Post-travel reflections

I'll try to water these down a bit to keep from sounding too much like a hippie.

The plane ride home was pretty grueling--KL to Singapore with a seven hour layover, then to Hong Kong, then finally to Chicago to rest for a couple of days at my sister's before hitting EL. It didn't fully hit me that I was returning to the US until I got to Hong Kong and saw tons of sharply dressed, blue jeans-wearing city dwellers and heard nothing but American voices in the terminal.

By the time I got to Chicago, I was used to those things, but not the rainy, cold weather I encountered or the return of American branding mania--BK, McD's, CVS, Walgreens, Starbuck's, Barnes & Noble, etc. on every corner, identifiable by the colors and shapes of the signs before you are even close enough to make out the wording. But nary an independent store in sight. Drew quite a few stares walking down Fullerton in my dust-stained saggy pants, dingy t-shirt, tanned skin and flip flops. Not to mention the large pack strapped to my back. By the time I made it to Erin's, I was a little unnerved (Odd that after three months, I found walking down a street in Chicago more unnerving than cities where I knew no one, didn't speak the language and usually didn't know where I was staying that night. Perspective can change everything.) Luckily, I had a familiar face, hot shower, laundry facilities and a bag of peanut m&ms waiting for me at my destination.

Two weeks into life stateside and I'm still adjusting, although I'm reminded less frequently of that fact. The first day back in EL, I went to the mall with Linds (probably not a smart choice on my part) and couldn't have been more ill at ease. I chastized a Biggby employee for trying to sell a plastic mug for $15, and made all my friends feel uneasy at the bar when I couldn't give a normal answer to the most basic questions (sorry for being wierd). Friends joked that they thought I was a hologram the first time they saw me, and I think that's an appropriate comparison for how I felt--my body was there, but I was still stuck in a Southeast Asian state of mind. I was uncomfortable with the US, unused to interactions here, and unprepared for the onslaught of conversations that began with "So, tell me about your trip." Not to mention I just plain missed the adventure of waking up every day and knowing I would see and do something I'd never seen or done before.

At the onset of my trip, I was looking for an adventure and a challenge. I got both of those things, but in different ways than I envisioned. I also got much more. I'm extremely glad I went and can't imagine not having done it. At the risk of being overly dramatic, it really was life changing. It raised questions I didn't even know I had about the world and about myself. I keep wondering how long it will take me to lose this feeling of empowerment, self-assurance, and ambition with a dose of realism and contentness with the idea of life not going according to the straight and narrow path we're expected tread.

I think I've snapped back into reality pretty well, but there are parts of me that have changed forever, and I'm happy about that. I doubt I'll ever make a purchase without considering how unneccessary most of the crap we acquire is, and why it's so cheap. Hopefully the answer will make me rethink buying it in the first place. I hope I'll never make a major decision without considering how my actions as a citizen of the most powerful nation on earth affect others. I think I'll be a better journalist with a broader world perspective, a greater tendency to look beyond the surface of issues, and a greater awareness of how good reporting, bad reporting, and lack of reporting can affect the way people view the world and directly impact people's lives. And I know this won't be the last big trip. I've just got to find a way to make some money first. Or maybe find a way to get travel to make money for me. Any ideas?

Final Days

After agreeing to all head to Kuala Lumpur together on the 10 o'clock bus, our Cameron Highlands group parted ways for the night. Turns out there are two 10 a.m. buses, and we didn't all book the same one. George and Lottie were on mine, but Dan and Jonathan, the two who didn't already have a place to stay in KL, ended up on the other bus. So after saying bye to George and Lottie, I sat around the bus stop for a while hoping the others' bus would arrive, then gave up and started looking for a place with a dorm. After a couple of responses of "we're full," I took the first open bed and later lived to regret it.

Somehow, Dan and Jonathan ended up in the same guesthouse, as I found out when they screamed at me from the roof while I walked past on the street below. By then it was late afternoon, so the three of us checked out KL's Chinatown and visited the Central Market before catching a movie at the Times Square Mall. The thing is massive--eleven floors, I believe--and includes an amuzement park, two movie theaters, a karaoke bar, and every item you could ever want to buy. This is what I mean when I say Malaysia is a far cry from the rest of Southeast Asia. After the movie we just went back to the guesthouse and crashed, which is how I encountered the worst case of bedbugs I experienced on my trip.

All night, I kept feeling little pinches on my legs and arms, but because I was still asleep I only half-acknowledged them by brushing them away then falling back asleep. But by 5 a.m., I coldn't sleep. Got up to find myself covered in rows of tiny red bites. Later, talking to some people who had been staying in the place for awhile, I learned the whole dorm is infested, but my bed is the worst because the previous tenant piled it high with his stuff and the staff never had a chance to clean his mattress. The bugs had formed a breeding ground on that bed, then crawled across the floor to all the nearby beds. If you look between the seams of the mattress, you can find dozens of them hiding during the day. Nice of the hotel staff to let me know about that little inconvenience!

That night, Dan, Jonathan and I sprang for a three-bed private room to avoid the dorm infestation. Still got bitten a couple of times, but it was liveable. After the rest of the world woke up that day, we caught a bus to the Batu Caves, a few miles outside the city. The cave is massive with cathedral-like ceilings, and is filled with Hindu temples and statues. Pilgrims still make frequent trips here and once a year, millions flock to the caves for the Thaipusam Festival. Although there is a significant Hindu population in Malaysia, I don't know much about the religion and, aside from Penang, rarely saw Hindu temples. It was interesting to go inside the cave and get close to the statues of various Hindu gods (including a monkey and an elephant) and closely observe people worshiping. Plus, there were monkeys all over on the hike up to the cave mouth, which was cool in and of itself. That afternoon, I napped in our new, relatively bed bug-free room and met up with the guys and a few other travelers later for some food and drinks before capping the night on the rooftop with a beer, a boom box and a bag of crappy Malaysian peanuts.

The next morning, Jonathan and I managed to drag ourselves out of bed early enough to get a ticket onto the Petronas Towers skybridge. The panoramic city view is well worth the early wakeup call it takes to get one of the 1,000 tickets that sell out by about 9 a.m. each day. We took it easy that afternoon then headed out for one last night on the town before I caught my flight for the U.S. and Dan headed to Borneo the next day. The night was a quality out with a bang night that didn't end until well into the morning.

My final day in KL was spent wandering the city, picking up a few souveniers to take home with me, and feeling ambivalent about the fact that I was going home. I was excited to see friends and family, but definitely hadn't grown travel weary yet. I just kept wishing I could start back at day one and relive my whole trip again. I guess that's what blogs are for...


Night view of Chinatown from our hostel's rooftop.

Old meets new.

View of KL from the Petronas Towers skybridge.

Hindu gods inside the Batu Caves.

Times Square rollercoaster!

Highlands and Islands

Well into the last week of my trip, and all I keep thinking is "do I really have to go home in five days?" It doesn't help that a major topic of conversation in every backpacker gathering is where you're headed next. I don't like having to say "back home."

In some ways, Malaysia has really grown on me and I've had a lot of fun here. At the same time, it's a much more sterilized travel experience than the rest of SE Asia. Everything almost seems too easy here. After three months of going at it alone when it comes to accommodation, transport, language and every other aspect of travel, it's a bit uncomfortable having the tourism industry so well-oiled that I barely have to make an effort.

After leaving Langkawi--two days later than expected because that place just seems to suck you in--I headed to the East coast island of Perhentian Kecil with a fellow traveler from my hostel. The island is tiny. You can walk from one side to another in about 10 minutes. It has no roads, just a few jungle walkways leading from beach to beach and a little fishing village on the southern point. And the water here is the clearest I've ever seen. Literally looks like someone filled a giant sand-filled tub with bathwater. In a boat with maybe 30 feet of water below me, I could still see the tropical fish swimming on the bottom--and there are loads of them.

Because there's only electricity on the island after 7 p.m. and there isn't much to see but jungles and beaches, we spent most of our time snorkeling or vegging on the beach. The person I was with is a diver, and he said just snorkeling in these waters put them among the top five dives he's ever done. The reef just off the beach is filled with all sorts of tropical fish, squid, reef sharks, sea turtles and colorful corals.

After a few days there, I headed to Teman Negara National Park, which is touted as the world's oldest tropical rainforest and home to protected species of rhinos and elephants. Hiking there was fun, but I didn't see what made TN so special. There are so many tourists filing through the first few kilometers from the park entrance and scaring away wildlife that you have to do at least a three or four day trek into the jungle to see any large game. I didn't have the time or the money to do that (they insist you hire a guide for stays of more than two days), and the few kilos I hiked revealed little more than a few exotic birds, snakes and one wild boar. The plants weren't any different than those I've seen elsewhere in Malaysia. Still, it was nice to move my body after more than a week of beach bumming.

From there, I headed to the Cameron Highlands, a place I had planned to bypass,but changed my mind at the last minute at another traveler's urging. So glad I came here. The weather here is damp and cool--much like Michigan in the mid-fall--and the entire landscape is rolling hills and mountains. The only indicators that I'm still in Malaysia are the giant ferns towering over the jungle and the everpresent banana trees. This area was a vacation spot for the British colonizers, and their legacy lingers in the style of buildings, the acres of tea plantations and strawberry farms, and the availability of scones and roast dinners at local restaurants. A few other travelers and I spent the first day hiking Mount Beremban, a nice (albeit steep and slippery) hike through thick, mossy jungle. On the way down, we visited a pretty impressive waterfall and somehow wandered off the main trail and ended up following a mountainside pipeline until it ended miles down the road at a bee farm. As luck would have it, it began pouring rain and we were stranded outside with several hours of walking time before we would reach town. Luckily, some friendly locals picked us up and gave us a ride back to Tanah Ratah town, where we indulged in hot showers an Indian feast.

The second day, we climbed Mt. Brinchang, the highest peak in the highlands. The slope wasn't as steep and the forest wasn't quite so dense, but the hike was longer and the views from the top more impressive--at least the whole 30 seconds they lasted before a massive cloud rolled in and enveloped the whole area in white mist. By the time we made the 7k road back down the mountain, it began to pour again. This time, though, we weren't so lucky getting a ride and ended up huddled beneath a banana leaf trying to keep dry. Could have been a miserable situation, but the mazes of tea plantations on the walk back down kept our minds off the mud and cold. After the downpour, we were finally able to get a ride in the back of some locals' supply truck. Pigged out again on Indian food, then spent the night huddled around a campfire before waking up early for the bus ride to KL, my last stop before flying back.



Cooling off in a pool at the top of the Seven Wells Waterfall in Langkawi. The spot right behind me dropped off over a steep rock face down the mountainside.

Ever wonder what a rice paddy looks like up close? This is it.

Massive lizard that made itself at home outside our bungalow. The thing was about the size of a crocodile.

Beach off Pulau Perhentian Kecil, Malaysia.

Ever seen water this blue before?

Catching the sunset on the other side of the island.

A snake in Taman Negara.

Not sure what this is. Some sort of cross between a peacock and a turkey? Either way, the most impressive wildlife I saw in Taman Negara.

Beginning the canopy walk at TN.

Vertigo.

Overlooking the tea plantations in Brinchang, Cameron Highlands.

Foggy jungle on the walk up Mt. Brinchang.

Malaysia: Not same same, just totally different

Editor's note: This post was completed in two separate sittings, so the tense changes halfway through and I was too lazy to go back and edit it.

I arrived in Malaysia yesterday and upon first impressions, this country--at least this island--is pretty interesting.
This is the most overstimulated I've been since I arrived in Bangkok on my first day. After traveling a region where, aside from the major highways, there is little modern infrastructure and what development is happening is moving faster than the country's government can keep up, Malaysia is a different world.

It's amazing to see how much development is taking place here. It seems the Malays are well on their way to being the wealthiest in Southeast Asia, but right now the money is coming in so fast, they don't seem to know what to do with it. So, similar to Western nations, it's been thrown into a bunch of services that weren't necessary before, but now seem irreplaceable--think supermarkets, air conditioned public buses with WiFi, specialty stores, Bally Total Fitness and drive-thru fast food joints. At least now I don't have to worry about culture shock coming back to the US. I'm going through it right now.

I'm on the island of Penang, in the capitol city of Georgetown, which also was a major British outpost until the Malaysian revolution. It was a major stop along the trade route between India and China, so the population here is extremely diverse--several different Chinese Clans, Indian Muslims and Hindus, Burmese and Malays, all living together without any tension. In fact, the people here embrace their multicultural city and it's not uncommon for a Chinese Buddhist to marry an Indian Muslim.

Upon arrival in Georgetown, the city made me nostalgic for everywhere else. The call to prayer from the city's mosques reminded me of Istanbul. The multiculturalism reminded me of Jerusalem (sans the prejudice). The crunchy chickpeas remind me of Greece. This place really is a melting pot, but unlike many multicultural cities where communities exist separately and primarily interact with their own kind, here there's a much more open vibe. One man I met was a Burmese-born citizen, but moved to Penang as a child and now speaks Mandarin as his primary language. Just a result of growing up around many Chinese on Georgetown's fishing clan villages.

The people here are also extremely friendly. You can't sit down to a coffee without the person next to you striking up a conversation. Although it's evident that women here aren't as independent as we're used to. People constantly ask "Where's your boyfriend?" and act completely shocked when I tell them I'm traveling alone.

In Georgetown, I met up with Luke, a travel companion from back in Vietnam who has been in Malaysia for the past few weeks. The two of us and Lawrence, a British guy who was staying in my hostel, set out to visit the national park on the opposite side of the island from Georgetown. Although it's not considered a rainforest, the jungle here looks a lot more like jurassic park than the jungles in Laos and, and there's no bamboo to be found. We walked a hilly couple of miles back into the park to a hidden sweetwater lake that connects with the ocean through a small tributary. The only other people on the beach were two retirees who left soon after we arrived, so we all took a few hours to enjoy having the beach to ourselves before heading back and agreeing to meet back up later for some of Georgetown's famed street stall food. Because of the city's multiculturalism, the food here is amazing and cheap. Good thing, because the beers are expensive as hell, owing to the fact that the Muslim culture frowns upon drinking and as a result, alcohol is heavily taxed.

The next day, Luke and I visited the snake temple, which was kind of a joke. It's basically just a Chinese style temple with a few small snakes in an attached garden. If you want to see any of the larger ones, you have to pay to visit the "sanctuary," which is a room filled with caged pythons, vipers, etc. and actually is kind of depressing. You can also pay a few ringgit to get your photo taken holding a python, making the whole thing feel more like a petting zoo than a temple. But I guess it was a good way to pass some time and the bus ride out to the temple let us get a glimpse of parts of the island we otherwise wouldn't have gotten to see.

That night, we all met up to go to Slippery Seniorita's, a local dance club frequented by the Malaysian city slickers. There was a live band, but most of the Malays were standing near the stage and listening without dancing or clapping. We decided to liven up the scene and started our own dance party in an open space, and before long the whole club was rocking out. Capped the night with some roti canai at 24/7 Indian place, then caught a few hours of sleep before Luke headed for Bangkok to celebrate the Thai new year (not sure how much celebrating is going to take place in light of the violence going on there), Lawrence headed to one of the southern islands, and I took the morning ferry to Langkawi Island, just below the Thai border on the northwestern tip of Malaysia.

I've been here for three days, and I can see how some people get sucked into the Thai islands and end up having to change their travel plans because their four day stay turned into four weeks. It's unbearably hot all day, every day, so most of us spend the day migrating back and forth between the shaded common area of our hostel and the cool waters of the beach. Not exactly as interesting as traveling in cool cultural areas, but I can't say I hate relaxing by the sea all day.

There's a water sports festival going on, so the beach where I'm staying is packed with Malay vacationers and it's a pretty lively scene. Grab a coconut juice and a towel, find a bare spot on the beach, kick back and watch tournaments of tug-o-war, soccer, survivor-style water contests and beach volleyball. There's also a stage set up where music is usually playing.

Today a few of us are renting scooters to go see some of the jungles and waterfalls on the other side of the island. I feel accomplished having made plans for something other than sunbathing!

Good morning, world.

Chenang Beach on Langkawi Island, Malaysia.

Gettin' down at Slippery Seniorita's, before the bystanders joined in.

This is the real Hell's Kitchen. Guy was moving so fast. Wonder if he burns himself often on the steam.

Chinese Tao temple in Georgetown.

The umbrella didn't do much help in the downpour, but this guy refused to pull over and seek cover.

Tributary leading from a sweetwater lake out to the sea on the western side of Penang. We had to hike long and steep to get there, but the seclusion and views were well worth it.

Georgetown skyline at lowtide.

Inside a Hindu temple in Georgetown.

This rainbow greeted me first thing when I arrived at the Church Street Pier on Penang.

Chiang Mai, Bangkok part two, and Koh Lanta

A few days of sickness followed by a few days with no free time to update means I haven't blogged in a while.

Last time I updated, I had just arrived in Chiang Mai and was having a bout of what I thought was a 24 hour bug, but turned out to be a four day bug. That kept me from experiencing Chiang Mai to the extent I would have liked to. Didn't get to visit an elephant sanctuary or go mountain biking as I had hoped, but I was able to do some sight seeing around the city on my last day. And luckily the people at my hostel were really cool with accomodating me in my misery. Hopefully it's the first and last time I'll have to deal with that kind of sickness on this trip, but it still bums me out that I basically got to see nothing of Northern Thailand. That, and the fact that, while I was in Laos, the Mekong River's water level was too low to take the slow boat into Thailand (one of the top plans I had for this trip) were both major disappointments, but good enough to give me an excuse to come back here someday.

After Chiang Mai, I headed back to Bangkok to meet Jim, who was already on a Thailand-bound plane for a whirlwind weeklong visit. Returning to where I started was pretty monumental for me--I've made the loop through all of mainland SE Asia! It's something that seemed pretty daunting just a few months ago, but looking back I can't believe how simple it's been.

This time, I picked a guesthouse on Khao San Road, Bangkok's infamous backpacker ghetto that never sleeps. I arrived at 6 a.m. and the last guitar circles were still going strong while prostitutes stood around hoping to turn one last trick for the night and street sweepers hurried to clean up the mess before the madness started all over again (if it ever really ends). I spent the day catching up on sleep and wandering the Khao San neighborhood of Banglamphu to kill time before Jim's arrival.

Jim arrived on my doorstep at 1 a.m., just in time to watch the Spartans advance to the Final Four. Normally I would think it's really lame to spend your first night abroad in an Irish bar, but watching that nailbiter was absoluately necessary. By 3 a.m., we were the only two customers there and the all-Thai waitstaff thought we were both insane as we yelled at the TV or cheered and high-fived. They get fired up about soccer here, but basketball is all but nonexistent.

Too wired for sleep after the win, we headed a few blocks away, where the Red Shirt protest was still going strong at 4 o'clock. The Red Shirts are a group of protesters who descended upon Bangkok several weeks ago, demanding the dissolution of parlaiment, unseating of the prime minister and a new round of elections. They're mostly poor citizens from Thailand's northern regions who supported the previous prime minister, Thaksin Shinawatra. Shinawatra was ousted from office during a 2006 coup, before a back door deal led to Abhisit Vejjajiva's instatement. I don't know enough about the issues surrounding the protest (which is preceeded by several similar events in recent years) to say who I think is right or wrong, but it's obvious that there's a huge class divide in Thailand. The country seems shiny and clean and miles ahead of its neighboring nations on the surface, but after seeing the tension between the rich and poor and the resulting political rift it causes, I don't have any trouble believing the rumblings about a possible civil war breaking out once the hospitalized king dies.

Despite the overall tension, the protesters were surprisingly upbeat. It was late at night, so there's the possibility that the ones left awake were drunk, but the scene looked more like a music festival than a protest--people dancing in the streets, waving flags, driving by on trucks with speakers blasting music. And they were all excited to see a couple of falang taking part in the activities. That wasn't the case when Jim and I got to the south, which I quickly found out when I wore a Red tank top around town one day, leading to scowls, laughter (most of them realized I was just an uninformed tourist) and many discussions about why sympathizers with both sides believe what hey believe. And I'm still not sure what it's all about.

Jim's first full day in Bangkok, we pounded the pavement, tuk-tuked and rode the river all over the place, taking in the Royal Palace, Wat Po and Golden Mount and seeing a bit of the city before meeting up back on Khao San with Kristen and Matt, a couple of friends who are studying in Bangkok. It was strange to see three familiar faces in one day after going more than two months without seeing one. We hopped between the restaurants and bars catching up and introducing Jimbo to Thai's food and drink, then ended the night with an argument with some Canadians who were talking trash about Michigan--although I can't remember what, exactly, their argument was.

The next day, we took the train to Ayuttayah, a small city a couple of hours northwest of Bangkok that also is Thailand's former capital and home to some of the country's best ruins. Rented some bikes and spent the afternoon climbing around a few of the temples before making it back to Bangkok to catch an overnight bus down south for the long-awaited islands.

Every time I take a long, terrible bus ride I swear if there's another option next time, I'm taking it. Then I never do, hoping this time will be better. And it never is. Our 12-hour "VIP" bus to Krabi to catch a one hour ferry to Ko Lanta turned into a 24-hour journey via bus, minivan and tuk-tuk (but no boat), combined with hours of sitting in bus stops or being herded from one place to another to catch yet another bus. This kind of thing has been the norm in Vietnam, Cambodia and Laos and normally I would be annoyed, but not surprised. But Thailand is a much more developed country with much better roads and a heavy tourist presence, so I expected more. Plus, since Jim only had a week, it really frustrated me that we wasted a whole day of his time sitting on buses. He took it well, but I was royally pissed.

All of that was washed away, though, the minute we stepped onto the beach in Koh Lanta and realized why people stomach the 24-hour journey. It rained briefly but heavily that afternoon so we didn't see much of the island. We managed to take a swim and catch the sunset after it cleared up, before snagging some dinner and heading down to one of the beach side bars to watch a fire dance performance, which was pretty cool. Even more entertaining were the German kids who gave it a go with the unlit batons and ropes after a brief intro from the Thai dancers.

Next day, we took a speedboat trip around four neighboring uninhabited islands. Jim will tell you this was his highlight. First stop: Koh Cherk, where we did some snorkeling in a really nice reef with all sorts of small tropical fish, as well as a few larger ones. The water here is so crystal clear that you barely even need the snorkel gear. You can just look down into the water and see all the way to the bottom of the reef.

Next stop: Koh Mook, where a hidden cave leads from the ocean into a cliff-ringed blue lagoon in the center of the island. Getting in was easy, if a bit creepy swimming in a small cavern with no light, but the return trip was a bit of a disaster. The first challenge was a group of more than 100 orange life vest-wearing Asian tourists who showed up out of nowhere and stopped for five minutes to snap a couple of photos, then decided to overtake our group as we were attempting to pass one-by-one through the small hole back into the cave to leave the lagoon. All of them lined up in a huge chain, chanting in unison as they forged their way into the cave, with or without leaving some drowned members of our small tourist group in their wake (we had no life vests and some didn't have flippers, either). Jim and I were among about six or so from our group who didn't make it through the hole and by the time the Asian group was through, the tide had risen so high it blocked the entrance. We waited for about a half hour before one of our guides came back and helped us dive underwater to clear the entrance and get back to the boat.

After some lunch and beach time on another island, we stopped one more time for snorkeling at Koh Ngai. There were a few jellyfish in the water, but several of us were brave or stupid enough to get in anyway. Then, all of the sudden, there were jellyfish everywhere. I saw a few within arms reach and began swimming back toward the boat to avoid them, then looked up to see that the coast guard was already there, pulling the other members of our tour group from the water. So twice in one day, we had to be rescued. Jim got a few stings but nothing too bad, and we ended up with a good story to tell.

That night we looked for the "huge Thirsty Thursday party" a flyer advertised for one of the beach bars, but the only people mulling about seemed to be honeymooners and families, so we went back to our guesthouse's bar to join all two patrons with a couple of beers and some chitchat. Somehow, though, that morphed into a pretty solid group of Koh Lanta locals and travelers from all over and the night ended up being a blast.

The next day we chilled out and met back up with a few acquaintances from the night before, then braved yet another long journey back to Bangkok for one more day before Jim shipped out. We visited the weekend market in the morning and whiled away most of the afternoon people watching on Khao San before randomly running in to one of my travel companions from Vietnam. That led to a night of genuine Khao San-style mayhem, including a visit to a Thai nightclub and partaking in a sampler platter of Bangkok's fried bugs. Jim ate one of each. I could only muster the courage of a cricket and a tiny frog. Both just tasted crunchy and soy-flavored.

Jim left at two for his flight back and I headed to bed for all of two hours before waking up to watch MSU take on Butler. We all know how the game went, and by 10 a.m. I was back in bed until the evening, when I ran into another fellow traveler from Vang Vieng and we joined a Canadian they'd met earlier that day, and he brought along a German girl he met, who knew some Brits who brought along some other travelers from their guesthouse, and before you knew it, the ten of us were sharing buckets and I was killing my last few baht just in time to take the airport bus the next morning for my flight to Georgetown, Malaysia and the last leg (!) of my trip.

Buddhist adages like this one were posted all over the garden of a Wat in Chiang Mai.

Novice monks chatting it up at a Wat outside Chiang Mai's old city. The place must be some sort of training grounds, because several young boys were there with their families, getting their head shaved for the first time.

Chiang Mai's moat and old city wall, used centuries ago to guard the city against invaders.

A decked out Red Shirt protester near Democracy Monument in Bangkok.

Jim gets pumped for MSU basketball!

This Thai flower hawker is none too happy with Matt's suggestion that she give him two flowers for the price of one. But in the end, I think we got them for free.

Wandering around Ayuttayah.



Part of the Grand Palace in Bangkok.

Jim's verdict on durian, the King of Fruits: What's all the fuss about? Tastes and smells like hell.

Can't beat a good sunset. This one from Koh Lanta just after an afternoon rainstorm.

Fire dancer on the beach in Ko Lanta.

Tropical fish swimming around my leg in the Andaman Sea.

Matt noshes on a fried bug. With his tubing tank top, cloth bracelets, tattoo and dreads, he has morphed into the stereotypical backpacker since I last saw him.

Slacking on posts

Sorry! Been too busy to use the computer much. Promise I'll get one up before leaving for Malaysia.

Anyone getting sick of reading about treks yet? Well I'm not sick of doing them.

Feeling a bit under the weather today, so I'm avoiding the heat and taking some time to blog.
Luang Prabang was nice, but more of a place to take a break from traveling and hang out for a couple of days than a place you want to be when you're traveling alone. There's not much to do and it's difficult to meet people there since there are no hostels and the town shuts down at about 11 p.m. I quickly got bored, and headed to the northern town of Luang Nam Tha.

I booked a minibus there, but arrived at the bus station to find that I was the only person in the van. This changed quickly, though, as my driver began stopping every few miles to ask people on the side of the road if they were heading North. We picked up several people and the van was completely full most of the way there. I wasn't complaining. More money in my driver's pocket, and I don't have to worry about the awkward silence of a 9 hour drive.

The roads in northen Laos are much worse than the south. For the first couple of hours, it was smooth sailing, but we soon came to the unfinished area, and spent the next several hours crawling along over huge bumps and constantly stopping to clear the road for construction trucks. It was rather interesting, though, to see the way road work is done here. Most of the workers were Chinese from the Yunnan province, and most of the equipment was man-powered. Men were literally breaking boulders with nothing but a big mallet, sifting concrete mix by throwing shovels-full at a giant screen, and carrying supplies up and down the mountain on wheelbarrows. There were tent camps lining the highway the entire way, and signs reading something to the effect of "Projects are the foundation of a nation, and hard work is the basis for all projects."

I arrived in Luang Nam Tha after dark and expected to spend all of the next day hanging out in the town and checking out my trekking options. But no sooner had I put down my bags and headed out for dinner than a group of people stopped me and invited me to go along on their trek the next morning. The more people, the cheaper the cost, so I took them up on their offer and by nine the next morning, I was in a tuk tuk headed for the Nam Ha NPA, a massive forest preserve that's reputed to be one of the world's great spots for nature lovers.

Luang Nam Tha is really foggy at this time of year, so visibility was pretty low and the views form the mountaintops weren't the best. But the cool air and cloudiness made walking through the jungle more bearable. And the jungle here is awesome! Unlike Cambodia, there is no deforestation inside the Nam Ha, no burning, and since the climate is a bit cooler and less dry, more greenery. Plus, the more mountainous terrain made the trek itself more of a challenge, which I enjoyed.

We spent a bit of time at a Khmu village in the morning, then traveled on and spent the night at a Lenten village of about 65 people that night. It was more of a visit than a homestay (which I liked--sometimes you can feel a bit vouyeristic staying in these people's houses and just observing them while they stare back at you) and we stayed in a small hut on the edge of the village. Among the highlights of the visit:

-Playing with the little kids. Some of them were scared of us, but others warmed up quickly. Especially after one of the trekkers brought out a bag of balloons. The little boy had no idea how to blow them up and it took him a while to adjust to their weightlessness, but once he got the hang of it, he loved it. We spent a good while bopping the balloon back and forth with one another.

-Fishing in the river. They use nets and a small homemade spear to catch the fish, which include a freshwater species of blowfish. We ate the spoils for dinner, bones and all, in Laos' national dish of fish laap.

-The FOOD! We might have been hiking several miles each day, but I'm sure we took in more than double the calories we burned. Every meal was delicious and aside from the first day's lunch, which our guide brought, it was all prepared with local ingredients-mostly bananas, bamboo, fresh caught fish and meat, and some plants and herbs from the jungle. Wish I could eat as well every day in the U.S. as I did while sitting on the dirt floor of a grass hut.

After returning home from the second day of hiking, we took our guide out for dinner, then I hightailed it to the border Town of Huay Xai the next morning, took a ferry across the river, and said hello to Thailand.

I made it to Chiang Mai last night and am laying low today with a slight flu or something. I'm starting to feel a little travel weary after the whirlwind through Laos, so I think I'll hang out in Chiang Mai and the surrounding areas for a few days before heading back to Bangkok to meet my brother, Jim, who's coming in for a weeklong visit. We'll do a bit of Central Thailand, then head south and hit up some of the islands. Bring on the beaches!

Trying to get artsy with some incense.

Trying to get artsy with some candlewax and a Buddha shrine.

The beginning of our gastronomic journey through the Nam Ha NPA. Squash with tofu, stir fried veggies, another veggie-meat concoction, and pureed eggplant with spices.

The classic lesson, with full color illustrations: Don't shit where you eat.

It's not every day you see a baby wielding a knife.

World's tiniest frog! These were all over on the riverbank where we stopped for a break. About a quarter of the size of a fingernail.

Our guide, Ponsap, gives out corn cakes to the Khmu children as part of the government food assistance program. The primary school in this village just opened this year.

Yet another test of my wits in the midst of creepy crawleys. Dozens of daddy long legs swarming the underbrush on our hike.

Vines are neat.

Another jungle feast: Ratton, banana flower and bamboo shoot soup cooked in a piece of bamboo, with the everpresent accompaniment of sticky rice.