Pondok 'palace'

Pondok 'palace'

2nd Dec 07

I could not possibly have stayed in the Empress Hotel at Sepang again. There is nothing that I look forward to at that location even though it is probably, geographically, the most convenient hotel for the LCCT portion of KLIA and indeed KLIA itself. So I took a gamble and booked one night in a backpacker lodge near to Bukit Bintang in the centre of KL. I was not looking forward to it for many reasons. I took the bus from KLIA LCCT to KL Sentral. That is only RM8. From KL Sentral I was quite happy to take a taxi to the Pondok Lodge in a road off Bukit Bintang; More than anything because I didn't really know where this Pondok 'palace' was. At KL Sentral the authorities deem it appropriate to operate a taxi control system that involves the purchase of a coupon from an appointed box office in the complex. Coupon price of course depends on destination. All designed to work in favour of the unknowing or unsuspecting possibly virgin tourist who has no suspicion that questions like 'is your meter on' or 'why is your meter already showing RM15 and we have not moved yet?' frequently need to be asked and even asked several times if they are ignored or met with a reply of negative inclination. Not realising there is more than one reason that one might choose to take a taxi, such as I don't want to walk but I don't want to walk and I don't know where this address is AND I don't want to get lost in this heat with two rucksacks and dodgy balance, the coupon sales person helped me tremendously by recommending an alternative mode of transport. In fact it was not only recommended but fiercely promoted, because, the attendant considered it less expensive which I would normally applaud as very tourist friendly. Take the monorail to Bukit Bintang and it's right nearby was the response to my wafting of the Starbucks receipt with the lodge address on the reverse under his nose. How much is the taxi? No, it's much better that you take the monorail to Bukit Bintang and it's right nearby. Oh Ok.. I do succumb very easily to suggestions of cost reduction which is what I assumed this to be. So with 2 rucksacks laced across my upper limbs and and a shoe bag hanging from the fingers of the longest one I swung on my heels to peruse the city horizon for what may pass as a monorail or even better a monorail station. In the polluted distance I could make out the form of what looked to be a large elevated bus shelter. An apparent route via covered market stalls seemed to be beckoning from across the road. Isn't it odd that humidity, heat and a little anxiety produce such an outpouring of moisture. I hadn't walked more than 50 paces or been approached to buy low priced sports attire more than 10 times before the bags I carried felt as though they had moulded themselves to my body. Before long the throng thickened and I was fighting football match like densities of people and, I noticed, had a major road crossing to negotiate. I am sure the perspiration must by now have turned my light colored shorts dark in all the embarrassing places. Which just served to raise the self consciousness and the rate of perspiration to a new level. Oooh traffic jam. Swing in between three lanes of stopped vehicles quickly before they move again. No chance..they move anyway when they have a chance of impaleing a heavily loaded white pedestrian with their Proton paraphernalia. I skipped and swerved a little ungainly at times but arrived at the steps to the KL Sentral Monorail station ticket office feeling and probably looking like a water otter moving house. With ticket purchased and escalator only paces a way I felt the rest must be simple. Initial indications were that my hopes would be correct. On a lightly populated platform there was little to do but watch the lights that soon suggested a vehicle was approaching. I was convinced the worst part of my journey was complete. Bukit Bintang was the fifth stop and being one of the early passengers into the vehicle I made my way to the far side and unloaded the baggage. At the third stop I suspected a possible error. The vehicle acquired an unbelievable quantity of passengers and the perspiration switch was thrown once more. If the fourth stop doesn’t deliver a large quantity of these people to their destination I may be on this vehicle for a while I thought. The fourth stop delivered no one to their destination but served as an apparent opportunity for Malaysians to attempt a world record attempt at the number of passengers in an over heated monorail car. I was at the back and due to alight at the next stop. Care I did not. Hope was disgarded at stop three. I readied myself for a monorail tour of KL. Deep breaths and salacious thoughts that included a sofa, dressing gown, slippers, comfortable temperatures, hot chocolate and possibly a girlfriend were ushered into my consciousness. A smile meandered across my hot face. I slipped away from reality in an exercise of mental consolation. The Bukit Bintang station arrived and the good Lord smiled on me. More than ninety percent of the passengers alighted. I began to reload my baggage bracing myself for the doors to close in my face. The good Lord continued to smile and I was allowed to walk from vehicle to platform unchallenged. From a gaggle of exits from the station I plumped for the simplest; the nearest. Outside I enquired at a Maxis promotion booth of directions to Pondok ‘palace’. A short walk to traffic lights, turn right and it’s not far down there. S i m p l e. Beyond the traffic lights and 5 requests for further directions later that had produced completely conflicting results I turned my attention to taxis. 'Five ringitt' danced the black lips of an Indian cabbie through the open window of his Proton Wanka who was clearly well tuned to making a fast buck from a naïve newcomer to the district. No meter but aircon. He drove 10 yards to the corner, turned left and another 10 yards and dropped me outside Pondok Lodge. We both smiled.

I won’t return to Pondok Lodge. I can’t complain about the cleanliness but I struggled with the sheer blandness of the place and the room with no window.

The photo here is actually shot in Boracay in a little kite surfing beach location which will be the subject of an upcoming blog entry. I was not inspired enough to dig out my camera on the short visit to KL that was the subject of this blog entry.

Too Long in Chiang Mai

22 nd Nov 07

Chang Mai is something of a centre for mountain sports. There are a host to chose from. White water rafting, mountain biking, trekking, climbing. Sadly I feel unable to participate in most because the balance is still not particularly brilliant. I have however ventured on an elephant safari where the highlight was about 45 minutes of elephant riding through jungle and river. Yesterday I had planned a solo trip to a famous temple and the kings palace (his country retreat) in the mountains about half an hour drive away from here. It was going to be a case of haggling a reasonable price out of a leg taxi. Crumbs, I asked so many people how to do this trip solo (without paying through the nose at one of those ostentacious high street tour stalls) and they all told me to go to this particular road and take a bloody leg taxi. Ok, I kept saying. A leg taxi, Ok. I asked a few more people, the lady at my lodge included. Finally I felt I must ask how I would recognise this leg taxi. Leg, I was told, leg. Mmmm. As a means of preparation for this ominous trip to the hills in a leg taxi I started to weigh up some of the vehicles that plied the streets of Chiang Mai. Taxis of all shapes and sizes were scrutinized for anything that might justify the leg taxi title. Pictures, writing, means of seating, modes of entry, alighting procedures. I still couldn't fathom it out. Short of flagging vehicles down and asking the driver directly if he was a leg taxi I was stumped. Stumped but not to be deterred. I decided to forget the leg taxi thing and just flag some vehicles down and regurgitate my destination in the Thai accent I had refined during my earlier enquiries. NO! Unbelievable, the first response I got from a driver was; 'ah you need leg taxi, not this one'. Kob Koon Krab. Thankyou very much. I turned away from the road to purchase water at a small roadside shop. Leg or blue bottle the assistant asked me. Leg please, I said…

Eureka!! I need the red taxi! He he he.

Within the next ten minutes I found myself next to a couple with similar intent. They were Spanish, from Madrid, I later discovered. David and Amelia. David was keen to practice his English with me. Amelia was a little more reticent but still enthusiastic and was a perfect compliment for the more outgoing David. We ended up chartering a leg taxi between the three of us for about 5 hours and did the Doi Suthep temple (originally built in the 14 th century), the Kings palace, the hill tribe village and some waterfalls. Whilst it was good to see these sights it was also splendid to have their easy going company and we concluded the day with beers together in the evening at an atmospheric location alongside the river called, as one might expect, The Riverside Café. Fireworks, a covers band playing Santana, Nirvana and Deep Purple numbers to name but a few, and attentive staff eased us through a couple of pleasant fluidic hours with much talk about everything from work to holidays and food to books and politics. Afterward we lit three hot air balloons and each made wishes as they soared into the sky. They were travelling the next day. Going south to Sukothai, another temple oriented spot on the backpacker route, from what I could make out.

Whilst music is in my mind I should mention the welcome contrast to stalls, handicrafts, and deep fried everything I happened across whilst traipsing the Tha Phae street market last Sunday evening. What must have been 300km into the seemingly endless market road there is a traffic lighted junction. The stalls had ceased but the throng of people had intensified. My height versus the average locals height offered me a clear view without having to fight through an army of excited youngsters. A rock band were making the final adjustments to their temperamental (as usual for energetic rock bands) electrical equipment. Bursts of distorted lead guitar dispersed with cable changes and checks for adequate feedback preceded half a dozen energetically and dramatically presented numbers from an impressive German band called Diva International. The lead singer/guitarist’s antics were clearly influenced by Jagger and the gaze from his cosmetically enhanced almost Alice Cooper like eyes was mesmerizing. Thirty to forty minutes of polished indie rock with dramatics to boot left me heady and missing a music player in my bag!

The photo here is taken in the grounds of the Doi Suthep Temple that I visited.

Dom

13th November 2007

Poor Dom. At breakfast yesterday I could hear a troubled Canadian accent rattling through issues of email, phones, home, how? how? how? with the staff at my lodge. It was clear to me that nothing was making a lot of sense to him. Dom is 67 and hails from Vancouver. He is desperately seeking a fellow Canadian to help him unravel in, Canadian fashion, the mysteries of existance in Chiang Mai. He is lonely. Not just lonely, but lonely, lost and confused. He descended at my breakfast table shortly after the whirring conversation that I had overheard with the staff. His introduction was by means of an apologetic request to join me. Mornings are not my best time, the cynicism in me before 9am, is often a horror to my dayself. An English-ish speaking village idiot and he wants to join my table; after such luck the day can only get better. Pre 9am speak.

I listened and nodded and listened and nodded. I began to understand how he felt. It was possibly the first time out of Canada in his life. It was certainly the first visit to Asia in his life. At 67. Nothing was working for him. He couldn't relax. He felt like a fish on the moon. 9am went by. I listened and I felt sympathy creeping up. He had paid for a month in this particular lodge. He had been here for almost a week and had spent most of his time looking for other Canadians, unsuccessfully. It wasn't working at all. With his months advance payment he felt locked in, a situation that just fuelled his unease. He had one friend back in Columbia that he wanted to let know of his whereabouts and probably feel connected to. A church lady. I began to realise that the church community was almost certainly a substantial part of Dom's life back in Columbia. I also got the distinct impression there wasn't much else.

Dom appeared to have three things in his pockets. A camera loaned him by the church. Cigarettes. Whisky. He gurgled on the latter several times during our conversation. Which he suggested was a result of his predicament. His thinking and speaking ventured toward the ‘booze’. He shook a little. A result of the booze which was a result of his disconnection from all things else familiar, was his unprompted explanation. He’d like to give it up. He’d like to go to the de-tox programme if he could find one. In my own assessment it was all just a little out of reach for Dom because it was all so unfamiliar. The whisky was within easy reach. Suddenly and surprisingly he decided his day would be consist of a visit to a lawyer (?!) that he had talked to the previous day in an attempt to get local advice on a de-tox location and connecting to his church friend back home. We had visited the email thing in our conversation. I discovered that Dom didn’t have his own email and would need to piggy back on others email addresses to communicate this way. I toyed with the idea of taking him to the shop to create his own email but he indicated he couldn’t type and wasn’t, it seemed, at all computer literate. I was glad for him that he had made a decision for his day. I indicated that I would see him later and we went off back to our separate rooms to prepare for our different activities.

It was my first full day in Chiang Mai. I had plans to walk the inner city roads and explore the many temples that appeared on the free local map that I had picked up. Temples visited, photo’s captured, city perimeter wall trailed and bottles of water consumed I wearily made my way back to the lodge toward late afternoon. I felt rather satisfied with my day. It was one of achievement if not particular excitement. Temples are temples aren’t they. I had wondered about Dom several times during the day and hoped that he had achieved things too. At the gate to the lodge I had to wonder no longer. Dom was sat there with a beer. It appeared that there may have been occasional conversation with a couple sat at the next table as the girl was half turned in his direction (and the guy had his head in his hands). I had no hesitation in enquiring of his progress. ‘The lawyers in jail but I met two girls who want to see me tomorrow’ was his succinct reply. ‘Well that’s progress isn’t it?’ I replied. He seemed to agree but it was clear that the easier comfort was alcohol. I imparted a brief description of my day and a need to go bathe my aching feet.

He would sleep soon and we would catch up again tomorrow he advised me. ‘Sure, have a good rest Dom’.

Today Dom was with a new friend. A professor. Yes, seriously. Tall the professor, born in Myanmar, from London but living in Oslo! In Chiang Mai to lecture on some new Asian University Venture. Tall had organized Dom as opposed to my encouragement toward independance. Dom was getting packed off to Pai. At Pai would be a previous Chang Mai acquaintance of Doms who was English. This fella owned his own bungalow and somehow Dom and Tall had worked out that Dom would be welcome and helped there. I last saw them at about midday in a taxi together. I hope you find relaxation Dom and enjoy a little of your time in Asia.

So today will be a ‘computer day’ for me. tomorrow I will take one of the reasonably inexpensive tours either to see elephants at work, trekking or the Golden Triangle.

My final 5 days or so in Bali were spent at Sanur. There were still parts of Bali that I had not explored but I chose to step back from the constant turnover of room and bus ride. Sanur had most things. Windsurfing figured. I was sorely tempted but balance is still a little iffy after the dive incident. I stayed at Agung and Sue’s and had friendly chats with family and staff remembering particularly the musical Elvis (struggling with, in his words, a broken heart, to which I have to add..of the new age; the more he sms’d her the less she sms’d back) Gundi who could get his acoustic guitar to sound like any accompanying music I suggested but particularly Nirvana stuff, and the malu Deane.

An Australian beach café attracted me most days. Pie, mash peas and gravy became a favorite. Wifi access made it all very convenient. Chilled. Very chilled. Brings a warm happy feeling to me as I recall it all. Mmmm.

Ooh I must mention Gary. Gary from Sydney. Gary and Tyo run this most hospitable little operation in Candidasar. Ari's Homestay. I was attracted to it by the BIG FREE BREAKFAST sign out on the pathement at the front of their place. After one night at a run down operation near to the stagnant lake in Candidasar this proved to be a pleasant find for my second night there and only 10,000 Rupiah more expensive. Tyo was from Java and the two were clearly enjoying the whole thing and making the customers enjoy it too. Gary, Viv, Henz, myself and a couple from the UK, Claire and Dave, I think, had a really nice social evening over a few beers. Breakfast was big as promised and set me up for the day and the ride onto Sanur.

4 days in Baguio

29th September 07

4 days in Baguio, Philippines and now I am leaving for Sunset Bay, San Fernando, La Union. Baguio days quickly move between pleasant pine lined walks in the cool temperatures of the glade to sooty diesel fume choked jaunts between lodge and the city shops. Having been to Baguio before and completely enjoying the climate contrast to Manila, I have quickly got restless this visit and am now looking forward to the virgin (for me) Philippine territory at Sunset Bay.

Most Pleasant Baguio Experience - The walk back from Mines View to town.

Most Dismal Baguio Experience - One night in the bug infested Starwood Hotel.

Most Likeable Character - Receptionist at the Bloomfield Hotel for displaying (?!) just about everything you'd hope for in a receptionist..welcoming smile, helpfulness, friendliness, a petite prettiness, patience and... charming.

Disorder is Order

29 th October 2007

My 2 nd full day in Ubud brings with it spiritual enlightening that has it’s good and it’s bad. I talked to an interesting Frenchman yesterday that has a bookshop and restaurant in the main street called Rendevousdoux (of course it would be called Rendezvous something). Life was explained in a 15 minute reverie that put Anglo- French relationships into much warmer waters than they had been for years. Thierry has a description for everything that is happening. In summary everything we experience is the process. The process rolls, non stop. The process content builds the future. It may feel barren at times but that is one of the most creative phases of the process. The phase that pre exists doing must be rich and deep with experience. Anyone can walk to the station because the route is defined. Arriving at the decision to take the train and where to take the train to will come out of phase that pre exists the doing. Disorder is order I heard several times which tasted like a consolation pill. Bless him.

Ubud, the heart of the Balinese arts and handicraft industry, offered relaxation over coffee or beer depending on the time of day at several pleasant locations with padi field vista’s. One late afternoon coffee hangs particularly dreamily in my mind as I recall the sun setting across the padi fields at the back to front café. My term. I think it was called Kita. But the kitchen and the mess was at the street side so it didn’t look particularly attractive from the street. One sat at the back and gazed across the padi field to enjoy the food and drink and on this occasion the long shadows and oblique rays of a warm setting sun.

I left Ubud on the 31 st October with the intention of staying a night or two at Padang Bai…an hours bus ride from Ubud on the east coast. My immediate impression at Padang Bai was one of an untidy ferry traffic processing town which I, uninspired, left behind an hour later on another bus heading for Candidasa. Koonikov was the other intrepid bus passenger. Yep just two passengers.

Mind Games

24th October 07

Yesterday was one of those 'what the hell is happening' days. Paul and Rachels Grandma passed away on the night of the 21st...into the 22nd out here. It threw me somewhat although I never had a great relationship with her Grandparents. Upset in the family is upset in the family. My whole world seemed to have a blue air about it. My mind worked overtime but never really achieved anything. I hate those days. I resolved to start thinking toward results, views, decisions and opinions later in the day. Structured thinking not just messy whirring thinking.

Lovina things aren't so Wow. It's another of those little Asian seaside towns that offer everything from girls to shells and make an unremarkable job of those and most stuff in between... speaking principally as a spectator, of course. There is a Wow to be explored offshore with trips to Dolphin watch and early morning remote bay snorkelling. It's in there but it's early and it has to follow a nice day that finishes with some comfort food (I have spotted one operation offering Chile Con Carne), a relatively early night and good sleep... not beers in a bar listening to the unremarkable job (but good effort) live music that, this morning, brings a smile to my face. 'Sue Lawley' still seems as appropriate to the tone and moan of that 'So Lonely' Police number as the original lyrics. Sue Lawley remembered! The Lovina impression perspectivised.

There is another aspect of this rather odd phase of my life that is coming to light and probably worth recording here. For my sake more than anything. I don't do holidays. I do missions and adventures. Attempting a mindless state in the search for holiday relaxation is the path toward frustration and an oppressed and crazed existance. So I am moving out of the holiday frame and into the mission frame. This is a 'chalking up' exercise.

Sunrise in Amed

22 nd October 2007

I was convinced that I would manage no more than 2 or 3 nights in Amed but here I am 5 nights later having only just checked out of the Sunrise Café this morning. Oddly enough for me that attraction was the serenity of it all. Evenings would end at about 9.30pm at the latest. I drunk little beer or any other alcohol (until the last evening) and ate healthily as dinners were always served with robust portions of vegetables and steamed rice. I think there must have been 5 small resorts along the beachfront that comprised of ‘Sunrise Bay’ so I had dinner in a different one each night. With that simple task complete it just felt like time to move on. The days were a mixture of walking, rehydrating, reading, eating and chatting although the chatting was pretty limited (another reason for choosing to move out and move on now I think about it) as there were virtually no tourists and conversation was limited to brief encounters with the locals viz the temperature, snorkeling equipment and transportation ‘bargains’. My biggest thrill was the snorkeling which revealed extensive hard coral no more than 10metres off the shore line with such a diverse range of marine life it kept me entranced for hours. Box fish, Jacks, I saw one bloody big Barracuda just skulking over sand, Cuttle fish, Angel fish, a plethora of Banded Sea Snakes with their heads out of the sand.. comical!, arguing/fighting Trigger fish, those little spindly buggers that hang vertical in groups of about a dozen, Moorish idols, it was endless and quite incredible.

A close second on the notable events calendar was the sunrise which despite the early evenings to bed I only managed to surface once in time to capture it on camera. It was supreme and added much to the mental image that the Amed visit created in my mind. The pictures are either on Flicker or Facebook.

Yesterday evening brought the Amed visit to a fitting close. The least attractive looking restaurant and therefore my last port of call on the dinner expedition turned out not only to serve the best food but to be the most friendly; and on the evening of my visit allowed me to meet some excellent company and make two lovely new friends. Warung Bali looked like a shed. I’m sorry Warung Bali but it does. A shed with some tables and chairs out the back..beachside. But it served one of the nicest fish curries I have eaten in years. Not rich in cholestrol (coconut milk) sauce it had a gentle non spicy curry flavour to it and was loaded with fresh (steamed, I guess) fish and vegetables. A perfect delight! At the next table were Alain and Mireille. Alain and Mirelle from Belgium. Also a perfect delight. Alain thought I was younger than him and he was younger than me! He knows how to make friends! Conversation was a pleasure and never an effort. Alain is an artist who works with metal. I wasn’t sure but I think he was into household items like candleholders. Forgive me Alain if you read this and I have that completely wrong. We both enjoyed to travel so there was plenty for us to talk about. Alain explained that he plays the flute and in his younger days took his flute on his travels earning his food money from his flute playing. He would learn the local music styles for the country he was visiting which I am sure attracted a few more sheckels than foreign music. He earnt just a little bit of admiration from me for all this. Just to complete the picture Alain still sports a healthy crop of curly hair (which spiked a seam of envy in me) and on this evening wore a Sarong. This is a note to me – I must have a look at the Turkish interior and the South of France. Mireille approved of everything as far as I could tell and clearly felt comfortable with Alain frontstage! Bless them. Oh Yes - Alain introduced me to the Balinese drink Errak. The locally brewed drink that derives from palm trees I think. We took it at Alains suggestion with lemon, honey and ice. It probably doesn't taste much on it's own because it tasted like we were drinking lemon, honey and ice. However it oiled the evenings progression admirably

A bumpy start in Bali

18th October 07 - A bumpy start in Bali

Sunday 14th October heralded my Philippines departure for KL. An(other) uneventful overnight at the Empress Hotel, Sepang, how many more times can I overnight at this throughly depressing location, took me into the 15th October and an afternoon flight to Bali. 25USD for the visa on arrival allowed me to move freely to the arrivals area outside of the airport and the taxi office news that Kuta was jammed and no taxis were even arriving at the airport let alone departing. Chill out and work it out are the thoughts that ripple through my mind in times like this. I had booked via email a room at the Melasti Beach bungalows in Kuta. As I hovered thoughtfully around the covered but empty traffic lanes I was approached twice by 'unofficial' taxi operators. The second offered to get me to Melasti in about 30mins for 10USD. As soon as I nod my head the luggage trolley is seized and I have no choice but to follow, at a canter. We do a maze of alleys and backstreets to arrive close to Melasti in about 10 mins. Melasti is fully booked. So much for their email booking service. However the driver smiles and suggests 'no problem' we will find you a room. As I subsequently find out this is perfect for him. 2.5hrs and at least a dozen hotel stops later we discover a fairly broken down family room at a hotel that could have been nice but was verging on a state of neglect. I can have the room for Rp400, 000. A place to lie my head, no debate. I must have dinner after that marathon hotel hunt I am informed. Little or no discussion precluded the 20minute ride to a beachside fish restaurant of the drivers choice. Ketut he had said I should call him. Over dinner Ketut announced that he would be arriving tomorrow with a motorbike to take me around to find more suitable accomodation. I hadn't liked the look of the overcrowded Kuta and suggested I would like to get out of the city to a quieter beach side location. Again I play into his hands. I pay for dinner and back at the hotel I pay for his taxi services (Rp300, 000) before I am bid farewell for the night. He is to arrive at 11am tomorrow morning to transport me to this fabulous quiet beachside location that is a mere 3hrs drive away for a bargain Rp400, 000. OK, I must escape Kuta.

16th October morning I am in exploration mode. No meals at the hotel was the previous evenings information so I am ready to venture forth and find coffee and something to start the day with in nearby streets. A scantly organised reception counter was manned by friendly enough young staff who responded to my enquiry of nearby cafe's with 'none' but you can take breakfast here. A hard boiled egg, two pieces of toast already prepared with strawberry jam and a cup of sawdust heavy 'coffee' complemented the neglected feel of the hotel perfectly. At check out I began to get a proper understanding of Ketut's game. Rp250, 000 was the rate offered on a sheet under the counter for my room. The staff said I could get Rp200, 000 as a returning guest (inc breakfast.. I was tempted to suggest for a further discount if I could eat that breakfast daily). Mmmm. Well I'd finally got a room in an overcrowded Kuta... probably worth a little premium on the standard rate. Is Ketut on comission?

Ketut was on time and we were off. No ATM's in Amed, our destination, so better empty a machine now was his advice. Message understood. I asked him for a number and used it to code the machine to deliver a wadge to me. I sweat more in his miniscule people carrier in the next 3hrs than I have done sat still for a long time. It's hilly and with the aircon on (I'm still sweating) the hills are quite a challenge for the little (worn out) baby. After two hours I offer to buy lunch. I need to dry out.

Finally in Amed I am delivered to a very well presented Bamboo Bali and given Bungalow no. 1 at the top of the rise amongst well presented gardens and an almost unblocked sea view. Rp250,00 per night. Done. Bye Ketut. A walk through the village revealed many vacancies. I have now moved to a 1st floor room with balcony, clean and comfy bed, shower and fan over the beach at the Sunrise Cafe for Rp80, 000 a night inc breakfast (nescafe available). Ketut, you opportunist. The picture here is the bay view from the Sunrise Cafe in Amed.

Rustling Palms, A Sea Breeze and UB40

Red Red Wine plays across the poolside terrace as I sit here in a gentle sea breeze compiling a smiley Philippines blog entry for the month of October 07. Today is the 12th. I brought a memorable and thoroughly enjoyable stay at Sunset Bay, San Fernando, La Union to a touching close on the 10th. Steve - a wonderfully positive character with a Philippina wife and young family newly arrived from England, George - on an South East Asian exploration trip from Wales, Tony - embarking on a job hunt , and Spider our Sunset Bay host, made up the UK contingent; Paul from the US with grizzly stories of his time at Bazra, and cool John from Perth completed a crewe with stories to share, views to debate and adventures to plot. A fine time was had by all! Departure inevitably included a bus trip. A sweaty seven hour bus trip that took me to Manila and city reality. Manila - jams, pollution, building work. Yuk! So, yesterdays schedule included another bus trip. A 2.5hr bus trip of escape to Alongapo, Zambales. My present location is the Mangrove Resort at Baloy Beach, Subic Bay just 10 minutes from Alongapo. Inexpensive, Seaside, Sunny. .

My picture is a San Fernado streetside snapshot taken one afternoon whilst on a shopping jaunt from Sunset Bay.

Spain stigma cornered

Why haven't I felt great about Spain? Happiness inspired by a healthy climate, mediterreanean diet and robust red wine is tainted by the relentless exit from England of a type who's prime aim is to recreate a sunny version of their crabby lifestyle around the Alicante and Benidorm apartment complexes that were the flagship of the generation that took package holidays from conception to reality but were never chilled enough to become Hippies.

I have been to mainland Spain 3 or four times in the last 3 or four years. There is still a splinter in my deep English heritage that pings a Southern European need in me. Its partly fuelled by my hatred of the English winter and partly fuelled by my persistent need to experience culture and lifestyle variation across continents throughout the world. Murcia has a draw. The coastline isn't particularly beautiful but that helps dispel the tainting element. Sadly it is Polaris World. Polaris appear to be attempting to take the apartment and villa scene to a new hierarchy of modern utopia. They are doing some progressive things. I even got tempted by their relentless advertising to go look at the stuff. I even considered buying a Polaris box. Luckily for me I had been to Murcia town the evening before 'deposit day'. Murcia town was what I had been hoping for. We sat in a square in the early evening drank a local robust red wine and ate a main course of seafood paella after a starter of sauteed vegetables and muscles. Our waiter looked like a Spanish version of Alfred Hitchcock. He was aided by a dark haired beauty from the opposite gender who had the type of smile that renders all male customers completely incapable of complaining should there have been anything to complain about. The whole thing was just marvellous. It was how Spain can and should be. Warm, friendly, foreign, interesting and satisfying. Polaris got steadily shelved and dreams of a town apartment with hopes of a bell tower visible across a pigeoned roofscape, of shuttered window openings, and a jungle of building corners owned by closely built dwellings in the chase for shade, of open evening windows and waves of Jasmin scented air coaxing one into soaring highs of rest, relaxation and pleasure.

240hrs After The DCS Strike

I am sorry the pictures do tend to emphasise the down side of it all. I guess the down side was pretty significant. However there is an upside. The upside is I have learnt a lot. It could have been a lot worse. I have come through it. I have discovered two doctors in Ipoh that have good experience in treating DCS and they actually have a sit in chamber in their surgery. In fact... I have been in it today. For two hours. It has resulted in some further improvement. No. I should say this..

IT HAS RESULTED IN SOME FURTHER IMPROVEMENT

I don't understand the mechanism of this further improvement but it is definitely there!!! I can actually look left and right before crossing the road without nearly falling over!! Therefore I think I had better celebrate with a beer tonight!!

Smile with me. Even better grin like an idiot... I am!

It's really odd the way things go on you know. I guess normally I would be pretty assed off that the arrangements for leaving this place are in tatters but I am not now. I feel that if there is anything that I should be assed off about it's my health issues. Now my health issues are declining (touch wood..don't really want to speak too soon) I am feeling pretty good about life and departure arrangements in tatters are almost a source of amusement.

What else to report... Oh yes, I have a smile on my face. Life is Gud. So I have posted a photo of the Gud Life. Tropical Island Gud Life. Pulau Tenggol Tropical Island Gud Life!

20hrs After The DCS Strike

Horizontal is still best.

One other thing that I have to say is that Niclas Jacobsson who took these photo's helped me through this like a brother. For anybody that sees this blog and knows Niclas shake his hand when you see him. For anybody that sees this blog and doesn't know Niclas.. get to know him - a great guy.

See where adventure gets you!

See Where Adventure Gets You



Had a mishap this weekend. It's messed up the forthcoming UK schedule somewhat. The mishap involved completing a 2nd scuba dive off a remote island in the South China Sea called Pulau Tenggol on Saturday the 4th Aug 07 to discover that within minutes of being back on the boat I had severe loss of balance and visual cognition followed by severe vomiting. After an hour or so of oxygen Charlie and Niclas got me to the shore. I could not walk and laid on the beach for most of the afternoon. When I tried to move at about 6pm I was a mess, ending up in a crumpled heap on the beach. A storm was on it's way in and I needed the hospital. No way the regular boat could do it so the Malaysian Marine Police were summoned and I was evacuated to a jetty on the mainland in a state of the art maritime vessel through the storm to a waiting ambulance and on to a small town hospital 1.5hrs away from Pulau Tenggol on the mainland. Their diagnosis was decompression sickness. I was transported to a 2nd hospital almost 500km's away in Kota Baru right in the north eastern tip of peninsular Malaysia where they could treat this stuff. It was 5am Sunday morning. I entered their hyperbaric oxygen chamber three times over the nxt two days and showed a little improvement each time. I was discharged Monday the 6th Aug in the afternoon but told to stay in the town overnight. The people were great. One of them drove my truck from the port I originally left it at (Dungun) to the hospital on the Sunday and sat with me for one of the treatment sessions smiling and encouraging me all the way through. The chamber sessions are a challenge. Claustrophobia was my biggest issue. I had a 2hr session followed by 2 * 5hr sessions. I asked for sedation to get me through the last session! The chamber is a monoposition hroizontal acrylic chamber. It does the trick but plays havoc on the anxiety chords. My friend Niclas drove me back from Kota Baru to Ipoh Tues morning 7th Aug. I appear to be continuing to recover (8th Aug 07). Great. I have some lovely friends here who get all concerned for me when stuff goes awry like that. I have learnt a tremendous amount!! Sadly no diving for 6mnths.

Back in the groove (or is it a rut?)

It's a tortourous blow that I have suffered. Imparted by life itself. A blow on life, by life. It was neither hideous nor ghastly. Not bloody nor excrutiating. It developed. Slowly. In the way that experts in torture will tell you that all the greatest tortures do. Now I have torture realisation. With the grey light of torture realisation I can detect the simple beginnings and the gentle cradling of self inflicted torture encouragement. Peaks of December 06 enjoyment that were then exquisite beams of sun, sound and happiness now cast long gloomy shadows upon my back as I toil once again in the groove of daily labour. Daily labour more despairingly tedious now because you enjoyed yourself. You sad torturous oaf, Graham.