Ok, so I’ll get the customary beard observations out of the way from the start. Firstly, I’ve noticed the more exposure to sun it gets, the more ginger it becomes. Secondly, apparently along with my hair style (which is in desperate need of a trim), and dress sense, I look like “Caleb”. The lead singer from Kings of Leon. The observation has come from 4 different people in 3 different countries now, and whilst I don’t see it myself, he’s a good looking man (albeit by becoming a complete sell out!), so I’m happy. When my brother saw the beard he looked at me oddly and said “stop trying to be a real traveller”, and then proceeded to assure all his mates I don’t usually look this hairy. My Auntie felt the need to ring ahead and warn my Grandparents about what has become of me before I visited them. My Grandad already calls me Hitler because of the apparent likeness with mine and Adolf’s hairstyle. He now calls me “trendy Hitler”, although did mention at dinner that actually I “look quite good”. My brother is forever getting told off for his shaven head look, which I find quite funny.

It seems like ages ago I last wrote a post, so I’m glad I’ve been making notes. It hasn’t been a very prolific time photography wise, so the photos are quite lame I’m afraid (although bizarrely I’ve put far more photos in than any other post). I have so many photos that I think I’m just gonna save them and whack ‘em on Flickr when I’m back home. After leaving Phnom Penh, Jon and I took a coach to the South of Cambodia, to an under-developed beach resort called Sihanoukville. We had an amazingly chilled out, party time there, and met some really sound people. In fact I was gutted to leave, and could have spent a lot longer there.

The first night we arrived there, we made the mistake of going to the area of town the guide book recommended as “budget”, and “sociable”, called Weather Station Hill. As it turns out, these terms are some secret code aimed at what we grew to call, BSTs (blatant sex tourists). These dirty, sick bastards were all over the place – deluded, fat, bald, old (and young) men (the majority probably with wives back home), going out in their packs to find young Cambodian prostitutes, mainly female but with the odd LB (ladyboy) around. Apparently prostitutes are better in Asia, because “they seem to really like me, they stay the whole night”. Anyhow, lots more on BSTs to come in this predominently ranty post!

After the disaster of the first night, we quickly got out and stayed in a place called Monkey Republic, which had small bungalows to share, along with an awesome bar/restaurant. It’s the perfect traveller hangout, run by people who know exactly what travellers want. It was also one of the more ethical places, where you knew the Cambodian staff were treated fairly and with respect.

It was by the main tourist beach which was a fun place to hang day and night. The days entertainment included enjoying the sun, swimming in the clear water, eating grilled fish from the ladies on the beach, being told you’re too hairy and need all body hair plucking and buying pointless bracelets from the kids selling stuff, amongst many other things. In fact it was a great place to get to know the friendly locals, as well as the monkey on a lead. The kids were regularly challenging us to games of “Rock, paper, scissors” – whereby if they won, we’d have to buy something, and if we won we’d get something for free, but would inevitably pay anyway through guilt! There were also beggars on the beach, all amputee land-mine/torture victims, or mothers with young children. We kept a reserve of small notes and took it in turns to give them something as each one passed. It’s really heartwarming seeing little kids take your money straight to buy some food.

By night, the bars on the beach came to life, and it became a fun party resort. Nothing Ibiza esque, just a general bunch of sound people having fun in some chilled wooden shacks (with hammocks!), and some really strong buckets of whiskey from the not so appropriately named “Nap bar”. One night involved us watching the horrendous Arsenal v Liverpool game in a convenience store after a drinking sesh (which we made some poor Canadians sit through – poor bastards).

The highlight though was probably the day we hired scooters (automatics this time, even easier to ride!), and went to remote beaches where the sand seemed whiter, the water clearer and barely a person was in sight. The winding coastal roads were great for riding along, and you get a real buzz when you feel the sea wind rushing past you. I can only imagine what a real motor bike is like! (although I’m a bit scared to try).

Anyhow, we were disappointed to leave, but a few days in Bangkok and a flight back to China were calling. The journey to Bangkok took an extra 3 or so hours, after one of the bald tyres finally gave in, and blew after probably years of overuse. It was right under our seats, and produced a bit of a bang that left people speculating all sorts of stupid possible reasons. It happened around midday in the middle of nowhere on one of the hottest days yet. It would have been pretty horrendous wait, if we weren’t kept busy by our new favourite hobby – BST spotting. We worked out our bus was full of approximately 80% BSTs, all on their way to their sex tourist Mecca – Bangkok. One very desperate German BST forgot that we were all stranded there in the same situation together, and proceeded to barge everyone out of the way, throw everyone’s luggage everywhere before ensuring he would get the one free spot on a coach that had stopped to help us. Anyhow, the equally bald spare tyre was placed on by the 3 small boys operating our bus, and we were eventually on our way.

Onto Bangkok, somewhere I didn’t have a great desire to go to previously, and somewhere I left with mixed emotions. It’s an incredibly vibrant, colourful and hectic city (something I loved being a city man myself), almost a microcosm of Asia and it’s many different sides. The bright pink, blue, orange and green taxis fit the city perfectly.

We met up with a guy who lives there that Jon knew, who is a self confessed BST and proud of it! Although he’s not fat, bald or old, I guess he just enjoys paying money for sex (each to their own). On our first night he showed us the grim side to Bangkok, which I guess is the side he loves. We started off at a pool hall, where essentially girls who are very good at pool hussle you, make you lose a lot of money, and then try and shag you (for money of course). It was pricey and shit, so we left. Jon and I asked him to just take us to a normal bar, so he said he’d take us to a “tame bar”. It was on this horrendous complex of brothels/bars with prostitutes and LBs everywhere. It’s the first time I’ve ever had a ladyboy grab my cock, and hopefully the last. The bar had a few rather old BSTs drinking inside, whilst watching 30 or so naked or near naked girls (all known by a number glued to their waists) dance in the middle. Some looked decidedly awkward, some actually quite confident. It was all horrendously seedy! Amsterdam has nothing on Bangkok for seediness. We left almost immediately, and ended up in a club with a live band, which was prostitute free, although still had a sinister side, which is where my next rant comes in – Western guys who feel like it’s their divine right to shag as many Asian girls as possible – but more on this in a bit. The band did a great cover of “Killing In The Name”, to bring to an end a very insightful, and pretty awkward night. It’s kind of what I’d expected, these types of things happen across Europe (Prague for example), but just far more magnified and horrendous in Bangkok.

When in another bar on a different night, we found ourselves in the smoking room (it must be the only bar in Asia with a smoking ban). Guys would start talking to us, and start the conversation along the lines of “so…how many have you banged so far?”, or “I’ve fucked 6 of them in the last 3 nights”. As if it’s the only reason you’d visit Bangkok, and every Western guy must be the same. It really was pretty horrendous.

So, an interlude for a(nother) rant! It’s something that I’ve felt the need to rant about since I first arrived in China over 2 months ago. There are a lot of Western guys living in Asia, and inevitably guys end up meeting girls, particularly Western guys and Asian girls, which is something I absolutely have no problem with – a lot of Asian girls find Western guys attractive and vice versa. For me, if you’re living in a foreign country, you should respect that culture, and try to learn more about that culture, and inevitably learn the language. But actually there are guys out there who have been there for years and not made any effort to learn the language, instead it’s their aim to fuck, and fuck over (ie cheat on their Asian girlfriends repeatedly) as many local girls as possible. They don’t care about the girls themselves, they don’t have a clue about their backgrounds or culture. It obviously makes them feel good about themselves, perhaps they have some form of power that they don’t get back home (possibly because on the whole they’re ugly bastards and don’t stand a chance back home!). But their deluded arrogance towards their stature in Asia is something that really got to me, particularly in China where Chinese people, mainly girls, are largely very innocent/naive people that they completely take advantage of.

On the flip side to this, there are those like Jon and his close mates, who speak really impressive Mandarin. Through practice – practice predominantly with people in shops, taxi drivers, and girls! Girls who they are interested in, because they have a huge interest in Chinese history and culture – and building relationships with them. One guy told me Jon is a lucky bastard because he “has blond hair which helps him meet the hot ones”- errr, the blond hair may have something to do with it, but it’s probably more because he speaks the language, shows interest in them, and more importantly isn’t out for a quick fuck! Anyway, enough of a rant on that subject, at the end of the day it’s usually a mutual thing.

Back to the journey. The next day in Bangkok was kind of bizarre. It was near Chinese new year, and a day known as “The day of the Buddah”. Which to us just appeared to be some sort of strange scam run by the government. Thailand is known for it’s gem scams, where taxi or tuk tuk drivers take you to their “gem” shop, and encourage you to pay lots of money for fakes (one such time we refused to go, and the driver got pretty angry and left us in a random street). On “The day of the Buddah”, tourists get very cheap tuk tuk journeys to all major religious sites in Bangkok – which seemed like a good deal, tick all the tourist boxes in a couple of hours. But what do the tuk tuk drivers get from it? Well, they get their petrol paid for by the government, IF they take you to several Thai export shops along the way – namely gem shops and tailored suit shops. Seemed a bit sus’ to me, even if the shops weren’t fake. Clearly we weren’t interested in buying a gem or a suit, as we left each shop after 30 seconds, so on the 4th shop the driver pleaded with us to stay in there for 5 minutes, which we did (to the second!), so that he’d hget his petrol money. When we were visiting the next tourist site, the driver just left us there without us paying him, as clearly we weren’t going to buy a suit or gem so it didn’t benefit him carrying us around. All very strange. That night we found a local Thai club, with a great reggae/ska/punk band playing, and not a single BST (or Westerner, in fact) in sight.

I also had a couple of incidents of losing stuff, before getting them back and looking like a complete fool. I thought I’d lost my camera after a night out, and even pinpointed in my hungover mind the bastard I’d thought stolen it. As it turned out I was the bastard for thinking bad of him, as I actually found it the next night hidden in my pillow case – ahh the drunken logic. And on our final morning in Bangkok, I managed to leave my bank card in the machine…I went back to the guesthouse, got all the Barclays details to cancel it, and then thought “why don’t I just go back to the bank and see if they can open the machine and get my card?”. And when I did, the lovely staff opened it and gave it back. And the woman just looked at me like the dumb foreigner I am.

So our SE Asia jaunt came to an end, and we got a flight back to Southern China, to Cantonese speaking Guangzhou, which essentially we used as the location for our grand pool finale. It was pretty much completely dead in Guangzhou as the Chinese were with their families for new years celebrations. Before the pool sesh we spent our time trying to find an open shop that sells USB sticks so that Jon could get a copy of the pictures from my camera. It proved an entertaining (and very time consuming way) to see the city which was pretty much a ghost town. So, to the pool finale, a truely gutting experience on my part. Coming into the Bangkok leg of the tour I had myself a 3 frame lead (equaling the biggest lead to date), and feeling pretty confident in my chances. But I bottled it, cracking under the intense pressure, and Jon carried the lead into Guangzhou, and then destroyed me in the final sesh to win a mighty 50 frames to 42. Given we were pretty much neck and neck the whole way, it was a gut wrenching way to end, but Jon’s extra class told in the end. I’ve never played so much pool in my life!

And so we departed emotionally for a second time on my trip, as I went to Shanghai, and he went back to work in Beijing. My flight was pretty entertaining. The English safety instructions were given by the queen (most audio translations in China have yank accents), and the Chinese girl next to me just stared at me intensely for the whole 2 hour flight, whilst Titanic style pan pipe music played around the plane. And my pen exploded everywhere which caused great excitement and laughter amongst the rest of the people.

I know I’ve mentioned before, but Shanghai really is an awesome city, a city that it’d be very easy to live in. This time round I spent a week there, did nothing touristy and in fact hardly left the hostel other than to go to the pub, or to take photos of residential areas (unfortunately all my touristy photos of Shanghai aren’t with me – I couldn’t upload them on my previous China blog). But it’s got such a great vibe to it, chilled yet so massively big. Upon arrival, Chinese new year had just ended, which meant it sounded and looked like a warzone! Friends getting together after spending new year with families, and setting off their many remaining fireworks, from any free space they could find (mainly along pavements, roads, or right outside my bedroom window) all night long. It was mental, but spectacular. Apparently in Beijing they managed to burn down 2 bars with their antics!

If anyone finds themselves in Shanghai, City Central Hostel is the place to stay! Lovely, friendly staff, chilled atmosphere, 750ml beer for 50p, and a great bunch of people to hang around with, who predominently live in Shanghai. The highlight of the week was an all you can drink for 4pound night, where I discovered my new friend Tom Collins. Tom is my new favourite alternative to beer (check out Wikipedia for an explanation – particularly read about “The great Tom Collins hoax of 1874″ – fascinating stuff…well, it’s funny when you’re drunk). I also had a taxi driver that had the longest finger nails I’ve ever seen in my life, as he held the steering wheels they curled all the way round. And I heard one of the best jokes ever, I still crack up at it now (apparently a guy’s Dad made it up):

Q: How do you turn a duck into a soul singer?
A: Put it in the microwave until it’s Bill Withers.

And so my limited time in Asia came to an end. I was only there for 2 months, and saw 3 and a bit countries, so am in no way qualified to give a full analysis. Asia’s never been somewhere that I’ve placed a huge emphasis on seeing (not sure why, I guess South America has appealed more), but I took the opportunity to visit a mate, and can’t wait to come back. It’s such a massive continent, with many many places to see, of great variety in terms of culture and scenery. I’d love to go to Vietnam, Japan, do the island hopping thing in Philippines, Mongolia, Nepal, Tibet, India (curry tour), etc etc and to see more of China, which is such a massive country that I have only scratched the surface of. On the whole, I’d say I’m surprised at how much I loved it over there, particularly China – a country that doesn’t need tourism due to it’s large economy, that allows tourists to get on with their own thing without forever being hassled, and therefore fully immerse themselves in the culture, and more importantly, it’s a country that hardly has a single Brit in sight!

I’m aware this is getting very long now, so will try to keep the Australia part to a minimum. The flight to Sydney was pretty uneventful, although I did notice that all the Qantas cabin crew were older than 50, which is unusual, and a Chinese man (and Chinese people have very little facial hair) spent a good couple of hours shaving with his electric shaver. Upon arrival I headed straight to the Opera House/harbour area where my bro’ works, so ticked the tourist boxes within my first hour! Was great to see him, and see how his life is out here…it’s fair to say the relaxed, hot way of life suits him, although I’m sure he misses us all!

I’ve never had a massive desire to visit Australia, it’s always struck me as a cross between Britain and the States, but with some different scenery. And I was right, but it’s still a very pleasant and beautiful country, and I can totally see the appeal to a lot of Brits. And of course I’ve seen about 1% of it, so am hardly qualified to comment. It’s also a fucking expensive country, given the strong state of the Aussie dollar and the terrible state of the British pound. In fact in 4 nights in Sydney, I spent more money than I did in 4 weeks in Laos, Cambodia and Bangkok. Still, I have free accomodation here, and am yet to spend more than 4pound a night on accomodation my whole trip. I’m amazed people can afford to travel here for 6 months to a year, it’d be like living in London without a job!

My bro’ lives in a big house with 5 others, overlooking a beach that begins with ‘k’ (cannot for the life of me remember it’s name!), which is the next one south from Bondai. In my time there I was gutted to miss a shark sighting, which meant the whole beach was closed. However, excitement soon came along when we were put on tsunami alert after the earthquake in Chile had hit, but that never materialised (despite us staying up the whole night in anticipation).

On the sunniest day, we did the coastal walk along to Coogee…where I realised once more what a small world it can be (albeit Australia is more likely than China). He wanted some water, and so went into a random shop (he could have chosen any shop along the road), and up popped the shop assistant from behind the counter, and to my surprise it was one of my former colleagues from (ahem) McDonalds back in the day. We were both as shocked as each other! It was also the annual Mardis Gras celebrations whilst I was there. I have a habbit of stumbling across these events after being in Amsterdam during gay pride one year (coincedence, honest). The last night in Sydney was when a massive storm came along, and the rest of my time in Australia has been shit weather ever since. Apparently these storms are the norm, but to me it just sounded like the house was going to fall down all night.

And on I went to Brisbane, to stay with my Auntie. Despite it not stopping raining the whole time I was there, I liked Brisbane (which a lot of travellers don’t). It reminded me of my youth, and particularly my student days. I’ve never lived in Australia, never even been before now. But I did used to religiously watch Neighbours, twice a day when at uni! The residential areas really reminded me of Erinsborough, and Ramsey Street, I was half expecting to see Harold or Lou bumbling about (even though it’s actually set near Melbourne). So I had fun. The city’s also pretty cool, most public transport involves getting the ferry around. It was great to see my Aunt, and hear about her job in research for animal conservation, and to meet Libby the dog, who is a legend!

Now I am chilling in Noosa with my grandparents, which is a town that very much reminds me of somewhere along the coast in Florida. The architecture, the large areas of water, and the types of shops/restaurants really remind me of when I went there as a kid. It’s great to finally make my way here after years of not coming, although it still hasn’t stopped raining! (we’re onto record rainfall now, with major flooding in the inland Queensland areas). I’m also very disappointed to have not seen a single kangaroo, koala or snake in my time in Australia,let alone no Harold Bishop. I thought that’s what Australia is all about! I do find the concept of drive through bottle shops (off licences) quite funny, as well as the fact that the greasy fried chicken fast food chain KFC sponsor all levels of cricket in Australia and New Zealand. And that there’s a place here called Wollongong (have you ever heard a more Australian name?).

Tomorrow my Grandad is taking me to his local barbers to get my barnet chopped, and on Monday I’m heading to earthquake hit Chile, which should be an interesting experience, before hopefully learning some Spanish in Bolivia.

Update: I wrote this monstrous post last night, but couldn’t upload it because my Grandparents are the only people in the world to have dial-up internet still. I have now had my hair chopped, which means the beard will need a trim so that it’s proportionally as long with my hair. It does like quite ridiculous now. It’s also currently not raining for the first time since Sunday.

Posted on Friday March 5th 2010 at 4:21 am