Thailand

Bed bugs and hookers and scammers oh my—welcome to Bangkok. Tired after a long day of travel from Manila, we found a guesthouse near Khao San Road (the backpacker haven) and headed to the streets to find delicious Thai food. The Tom Kha soup Priti ate was steamed with little green hot peppers, the hottest type in the world. Her stomach would pay for that later but she enjoyed every bite. After dinner, we checked out some live Blues music in a small narrow bar that was packed with smokers, causing our early exit. Returning to our guesthouse around midnight, exhausted and ready for bed, we turned over our pillows and discovered bed bugs. Thankfully we had not unpacked any of our bags. After checking out and getting a refund, we were back on Khao San Road, which at the late hour was crawling with prostitutes. White men of all ages openly negotiated prices with the women (undoubtedly girls as well) with their wallets open. Some were bargaining for more than one woman. Eventually, we found a place and a thorough check revealed no bed bugs, a no prostitutes sign, clean white sheets and towels, working air con, a hot shower, and finally, a good night’s sleep.

The following morning we headed by foot to check out some of the sites. Stopping in front of a museum to review our map, we knew that our destination the Grand Palace was nearby. The Grand Palace is the residence of the King of Thailand who at the time was in the hospital. During our stay in Thailand, we would quickly learn that the Thais adore their king, who is the longest standing monarch in the world and is the 9th descendent of the Ramas. Rama I became king by rescuing an emerald green statue of Buddha (which is actually made of Jade) from an ancient Laotian empire that had stolen it. Even the teenagers are very adoring and Thais of all ages frequently wear these garish yellow shirts to show their respect.

From nowhere, a Thai man in his mid-fifties asked us where we wanted to go. We told him where we were headed and he jovially explained that he was a teacher and had learned English a long time ago. He taught us how to say a few important phrases in Thai, which we practiced with him on the sidewalk. Then, he told us that our destination was closed until 2pm, but he could arrange a tuk-tuk (a motorbike with an attached seat on the back that fits two Western people, or six Asians) to take us to a couple of the other Wats (temples) of interest, one of the legitimate Thailand Authority Tourist (TAT) agencies, and then return us to the Grand Palace after it re-opened. What a friendly guy, we thought. He hailed the next tuk-tuk, negotiated a great price, and we were on our way. Our fist stop was a beautiful ornate Wat adorned with lots golden statues of Buddha and had many worshippers. At the second Wat, which wasn’t that interesting, we ran into another friendly Thai who showed us on our map that we were at a different Wat then we had agreed to. Oh well, we figured, perhaps it was on the way. When we arrived at the tour agency, we told the woman we were headed north and she offered us a tour of about 10 days for $900, which was a special deal only available that day. Keep in mind, Thailand is one of the cheapest places in the world to travel. Train rides for ten hours can cost just a few dollars and accommodation can be had for less than $5. We said “No thank you” and left with our tuk-tuk driver. Surprisingly, he then stopped at a silk and wool tailor shop, stating, “Free. Just look. I get petrol voucher.” We shrugged our shoulders. What could it hurt? Since neither Jason nor I needed fancy clothes during our travels, we left the store empty handed. Our driver seemed surprised by our lack of shopping but drove on, making a u-turn out of nowhere and stopping at another TAT office. We looked at each other skeptically but again told the agent our itinerary, only to be quoted an even higher price. Then, despite the fact that we asked our tuk-tuk driver to take us to a specific Wat, he took us to a different one, the Gold Mount. Priti protested but succumbed when the driver said, “Free, free, don’t worry.” After taking many pictures and ringing bells as prayers, we found the parking spot of our tuk-tuk driver empty. He had ditched us. We naively circled around the temple, thinking that we had arrived at a place different from the exit. We hadn’t even paid him! After some time, we realized that we had been the marks in an elaborate scam. Our guidebook had warned us about a few of the other popular scams, such as conning tourists into buying “gems” at ridiculously low prices. When we re-read the warning, however, we felt pretty foolish for not catching on sooner. Our feelings at the end of the day were relief (at not falling for the con) mixed with self-doubt (getting sucked in at all) to annoyance at wasting most of our day.

Fortunately, on our way home, we ran into a weekend festival, similar to the Taste of Chicago, where we feasted on fried eggs with seafood, various breads, and Thai iced coffee. We were stuffed by the time we reached the hotel where we rested before heading out to a club for some dancing. We got denied by about eight cabbies, some of whom laughed at us when we asked them to use their meter. The music was hopping and we enjoyed the scene which was mixed with westerners and locals, mostly women. We wondered how the men determined if the woman were working or genuinely out to have a good time. Anyways, Priti had a few Vodka/Red bulls followed and was unable to fall asleep and her body was buzzing. She learned later that one Red Bull in Thailand is equivalent to three cans of the Red Bull sold in the States. Searching for a taxi at the wee hours of the morning proved to be challenging, not because they were lacking but because the drivers wanted to charge three to four times the cost of the trip. Finally, one agreed to a reasonableFortunately, meandering back to hour hotel, we came across a huge outdoor market that was only around for that weekend (sort of like the Taste of Chicago) where we gorged on satay fixed price (still higher than our trip there) but proceeded to ask for more money when dropping us off...fat chance!

The following day, we decided once again to see the Grand Palace and started walking. We rounded a corner and observed our “teacher” friend sitting on a stoop, watching the tourists walk by. He initially pretended not to recognize us, but Jason greeted him and laughed, “You almost got us, didn’t you?” The “teacher” shrugged his shoulders, tried to look innocent and continued to watch more tourists walk by and figured out whom to approach next. As we walked on, it seemed like every single taxi and tuk-tuk driver would ask, “Where you go?” which was the complete opposite of how they had treated us the day before. Finally, we arrived at the Grand Palace. As we'd discovered in Malaysia, there were different prices for locals (free) versus tourists ($7!). We've discussed with other travelers how that kind of discrimination would result in a lawsuit in the United States or in Europe. Nonetheless, we paid our fees and entered a majestic world of ornate temples, buildings, and landscaping. The Grand Palace is indescribable. It makes the White House look like a cheap motel. We felt like the Japanese in the huge tour groups, living life through our camera lens as we snapped one picture after another, over 100 that day alone. Some of the highlights included the Emerald Buddha (the first picture, though it was much smaller than we'd expected) as well as the largest Reclining Buddha in the world, at about 190 meters (600 ft) long. It's hard to convey how massive it is, but perhaps the following two pictures will help (neither of which were zoomed in at all). Later on, we were ushered into a courtyard, only to sit cross-legged for over an hour with the locals to witness three of Thailand’s princesses walk by and wave. Yippee! Later that night, we explored a different lively neighborhood of Bangkok and went to this bar to watch a Thai boxing match. Although Priti endured it, Jason thought it was exciting and it ended in a knockout. Punches thrown everywhere, jabs, elbows, and knees in the stomach. Immediately after the boxing match was over, the ring transformed into individual platforms and dancers without any rhythm came out who looked like they were fifteen. One even had braces. We left immediately.

Although the food was incredible and the sites amazing, we decided to leave the city and head to Ayuthaya, a town of ancient ruins which is technically an island because it’s surrounded by rivers on all sides. We bought some yummy noodles from a road side shop outside of the train station and enjoyed the city scene gradually transform into rice paddies and hills. After arriving a bit dusty from the open train windows, we enjoyed refreshing watermelon shakes (Priti’s favorite in Thailand) and did a night Wat tour. The temples, from the 13th and 14th century, glowed a pinkish red as the sun was setting. We also went to an elephant camp where they bred Thai elephants and prevent them from being poached. Jason got a kick out of seeing two of the elephants attempting to mate. Check out the video but be forewarned, it’s not PG13 (to be posted soon) and will put every single male to shame.

The following day, we rented bikes and visited many of the same ruins from the night before. One of the highlights was this ancient tree with the face of Buddha carved into it. Sadly, many of the statues were headless, as over time various invaders decapitated them in an effort to suppress the Buddhist faith. We also went to a museum in town where we learned that Buddhist children are supposed to get their hair shaved at the age of one month to indicate that they survived the hardest month. They get their heads shaved again at the age of 11 if girl and age 13 if boy, before puberty. There are also rituals for a woman when she gives birth, about cleansing herself daily for a certain number of days. There was way too much information, but it definitely sparked an interest to learn more about Buddhism and Thai traditions.

We then headed for the train station. Since everything was in written in Thai, it was challenging figuring out which train to get on. However, it was even more challenging trying to get off. Our train was supposed to arrive in Phitsanulok at 8:30 pm and around that time, it made a stop. Having no clue what the signs said, we got off and fortunately showed our ticket to the train station worker, who immediately started shouting and ushered us back onto the train. Priti was on the stairs trying to get her bag through the narrow doorway. Jason was shouting for her to hurry as he gripped the handles and felt the ground start to move beneath his feet. He got on just in the nick of time and after our heart-rates returned to normal, we laughed at our near-miss. With the aid of a few other Thai passengers (despite one elderly woman who completely turned around and faced the window when Jason sat next to her) we arrived in Phitsanulok (or “Pee-loc” as the locals call it) 90 minutes tardy. It took us awhile to find a place so we were famished by the time we got to the night market. Perhaps it was our empty bellies but the food was excellent; Thai noodle soup, a spicy pork dish and for desert these dime sized pancakes with a sweet, gooey cream filling. Our hotel actually had a TV with English speaking channels and having not watched TV in so long, we stayed up late watching some really dumb movie with Jennifer Aniston and Clive Owen. (Jason stares at this last sentence in horror).

From Philok, we took a day trip to the Old City in Sukhothai. After renting bikes, we leisurely went around the ancient ruins. Cows, buffaloes, and stray dogs roamed amongst the temples which were serene and partly crumbled. Three female Buddhist nuns dressed in white and one male Monk dressed in orange were doing a walking mediation around the lake surrounding the ruins. It was very peaceful. We had definitely escaped the chaos of Bangkok. The escape didn’t last too long since we had to return to Philok where a tuk-tuk driver tried to drop us off far from our location and then demanded to be paid a larger sum than the one agreed upon to take us to our actual destination. Fortunately, a group of local teenagers got into the tuk-tuk and negotiated for us to get to the riverside where we dined on disappointing Thai food. In retrospect, we should have skipped Ayutthaya because they are very similar but Sukhothai was nicer.

The next day was another day on the bus to Chiang Mai, a northern city known for its many wats, tasty cuisine, and village trekking. Not surprisingly, the first guesthouse we checked out said they had no available rooms yet changed their tune when we mentioned being interested in trekking. Through another agency we booked a 3day/2night tour of trekking, swimming in waterfalls, visiting villages and interacting with the villagers to learn about their culture, and elephant trekking in the jungle. The tour started off on the wrong note when we showed up the next morning to a closed tour agent. We wondered if we had been scammed again but finally the tour agent appeared and we were ushered around town, picking up more and more passengers until we were practically sitting on top of one another. The tour agent had lied about the maximum number of people. We endured the uncomfortable and cramped ride, first to a local market, and then to the rainforest where we hiked for a few hours, swam in a waterfall pool, and then reached a hilltribe village. Our interactions with the villagers were short lived and thoroughly disappointing. The children ran over to us with woven bracelets in their hands, shoving them into our faces and saying, “10 Baht.” When the tourist would hand over the 10 Baht ($.30), it would quickly disappear and the price suddenly jumped 10-fold. Apparently the 10 Bahts were just a down payment. Similarly, the adults tried to peddle their various wares. As soon as all the sales were made, the villagers vanished and were not seen again. That night, we enjoyed a good Thai meal and hung around the fire, chatting with the other tourists who were all European. Then we slept in a large bamboo and wood stilt building that had elevated platforms on which bamboo mats were spread. The sleeping arrangements were communal with mosquito nets to separate individuals. The bamboo mats were flat without any cushioning and we had to use one of the two blankets to prevent getting sores on our hips and buttocks while sleeping. Priti slept with long underwear, a wool sweater, wool hat and gloves. Despite all the wool, she thought it was cold and worse than camping in a tent in the winter. Jason's night was even worse, as he was forced to repeatedly use the bathroom, which consisted of a disgusting outhouse with a squatting toilet. We could never live in a village.

The next morning, we had a minimalist breakfast of toast, butter, and jam with tea or coffee while the locals and guides ate hearty, warm noodle soup. We were jealous. One of the other travelers was feeling sick, said he was sweating at night, and had GI symptoms. We gave him some Imodium and Tylenol but he clearly wasn't enjoying life so he and his girlfriend said they wanted to leave early with those who had booked just a 2-day trek. Our 2night/3day guide initially asked them why they hadn’t told him at the village where he could have called and arranged the elephant trekking and bamboo rafting for them that day. He also said that it might not work out for them and almost insisted that the Danish continue trekking, even after they promised not to ask for a refund. Only after they put it in writing did the guide relent and let them leave early.

After settling that, our group of eight people hiked for about 4-5 hours. We reached a waterfall where we had lunch that consisted of fried noodles wrapped in banana leaves. Our guide made chopsticks out of a bamboo stalk that he cut from the forest. It was great that our “plates and utensils” were disposable and environmentally friendly. Along with the guide and Daniel, from Germany, Jason jumped off a cliff into the waterfall pool. The water was very strong and the jumpers tried in vain to walk in the pool towards the waterfall, only to be pushed back by the current. We then hiked to the next village during which we didn’t interact with any village people. However, there were 3 really cute puppies that were probably 2-3 weeks old. We had fun playing with them. At this village, they were in the process of building individual huts some of which had been completed. Jason and I opted for our own hut with a private Western toilet and a real bed instead of another night in the communal hut on top of bamboo mats. We had a great meal of red curry fish and some amazing curried pumpkin with rice. The fish was still alive right before dinner and was de-scaled and gutted...yum!

Priti woke up feeling tired and it was painful for her to swallow. She started to get a burning sensation at mid-sternum without any relief from taking antacids. She endured through breakfast. We then walked for an hour or so and got to the elephant trekking. It really wasn’t elephant trekking, rather a big loop through the mud. We felt like backpacks and nearly got sick from the violent lurching throughout the 45 minute ride. Jason didn’t like it whatsoever and said he would never go on an elephant again. We then had a pretty bland lunch of noodles. Our final activity was bamboo rafting. There were two bamboo rafts and Daniel and Jason got into a friendly rivalry, which resulted in Daniel falling into the water and breaking their teams bamboo steering rod. Ha ha. That night we met our trekking group at a good steak buffet for dinner, drinks, and dancing. We had fun dancing. Jason was in his own groove and even played bongos with the band.

The next day was slow and uneventful. Jason's GI symptoms persisted, as did Priti's heartburn symptoms. We managed to see a couple of wats and also scheduled a one day cooking course at the famous Chiang Mai Thai Cookery School. When shopping around for cooking schools, the clincher for this one was that the man who taught the class was a famous Thai TV chef. He walked into the office, we looked at the back cover of the cookbook, raised our eyebrows and the woman trying to sell us the class, said, “Yes, that’s him.” Despite our maladies, we went to the class and made the best spicy Thai food ever, 6 dishes including a desert of steamed banana cake. The entertaining chef tasted Priti’s Tom Kha soup with the tip of his pinky finger and shrugged his shoulders. Although she liked her food, Jason’s was (shockingly) better. We now know who will be doing the Thai cooking when we return home.

After a full day of eating, we relaxed and enjoyed Thai foot massages followed by a night out with friends from our trek. Priti, unfortunately, continued to eat antacids during the night as her heartburn kept getting worse. She abstained from any alcohol since it exacerbates the symptoms. The following morning, after doing some research on the internet, she figured out what medicine to take and bought some at the Australian pharmacy chain sans prescription. We then headed for the small mountain town of Pai with a population of a few thousand. The drive was amazing and luckily we don’t get car sick. The curving roads up the mountains would send us back and forth in our seats. Looking out the windows all you could see were green trees covering misty mountains...similar to Colorado. We arrived in Pai and found a room on the river. This particular guesthouse is famous for having treehouse rooms, but unfortunately those were all occupied. We headed out and were quickly surrounded by yippies (i.e., young lost souls with money but dressed like hippies). The social atmosphere was thus not quite what we had hoped for although the street food was excellent, according to Jason. Priti, by this time, wasn’t eating anything spicy (which was mostly everything available) or any citrus fruits. She had one banana all day and wondered how people could willingly fast for extended periods. It hurt for her to even drink water. Although we were in Pai for a short time, we would see a handful of the same people later in Laos, although our paths were very divergent, as we'll explain in the next entry.

The next morning, at the hour of 8:30am, we decided to catch the 9 am minibus back to Chiang Mai so Priti could visit a doctor. We went to the hospital in town which was recommended by our travel insurance. Priti hadn’t been able to eat for two days and the heartburn wasn’t improving. Although she had done research on the internet, she also knew that she shouldn’t treat herself and the deferred pain from midsternum to her left arm freaked her out. Thailand is known to have one of the best medical and dental systems in Southeast Asia and it was the most efficient medical service we have ever seen. She was ushered by staff from one place to the next – person who had her fill out papers, nurse who checked vitals, doctor, payment for chest x-ray prior to chest x-ray, Priti read chest x-ray while walking to doctor’s office, doctor who read chest x-ray, pharmacy for meds – all within one hour. Priti’s diagnosis – peptic ulcer disease (PUD). The cost of the entire medical visit including the chest x-ray was about fifteen dollars, more than half of which was the x-ray. Although the doctor spoke English, took a good history, and did a focused physical exam, she failed in asking Priti about other medications. Although Priti felt relieved because she had given herself the same diagnosis, she also researched our current meds and learned that the prophylactic malarial pill was the likely culprit rather than the spicy Thai food. (She cannot give up Thai food for the rest of her life!) Her symptoms subsided the day after she stopped taking the pills.

The following day, with a six week supply of PUD medications and the unsatisfied cravings for spicy food for Priti, we traveled to the Mekong River village of Chiang Khong where you can cross into the Lao village of Huay Xai. We had been told that Laos today was what Thailand was like 25 years ago (i.e., much fewer tourists) and we were ready for our next adventure.

Philippines

Our arrival in the Philippines had an auspicious air as we were greeted with a personal driver; the first and likely last time either of us will be so welcomed. The driver was compliments of Priti’s long-time friend Collette and her husband Joe. Priti went to junior high and high school with Collette but they hadn’t seen each other since 1996.The long awaited reunion would have to wait another two hours to go 30 miles as we sat in traffic heading into the center of Manila. Traffic in Asia, and especially Manila, is not for the faint of heart; although, as Joe would inform us, it is “controlled chaos,” to us uninitiated Westerners there was nothing controlled about it. Lane markings, if present, were ignored; horns were constantly blaring and could signal a number of warnings but mostly meant “get out of my way,” and the bigger vehicle always had the right of way. The most common were jeepneys, which are basically old army jeeps that have been modified to fit two benches in the back and had anything from the Virgin Mary to the Chicago Bulls painted on the outside. As much as we tried to tune out, we were still stressed out just being chauffeured and couldn’t imagine having to drive everyday there.

After catching up with Collette and Joe, and meeting their wonderful daughter Sky, our royal treatment continued as we were taken to the 24^th floor to our very own fully furnished 2-bedroom 2 ½ bathroom condo with a balcony and AC. This place, by far, was the nicest at which we have stayed during our travels. We also were privileged to the services of their two Yayas (nannies) Remia and Wang, who cooked us meals and even did our laundry. Ah, the good life in the Philippines. Of course, this was in stark contrast with the dilapidated metal shacks we passed on the way from airport, where the river bank served as their bathroom and their only source of running water.

During our few days in Manila, we couldn’t help but visit the Mega Mall, which was close by to our residence. The mall has 5 or 6 floors, several “wings”, an ice skating rink, a few cinemas and stations in their public train system. We found ourselves lost at several points. After picking up some supplies at the SM store we were disgusted to learn that they fire most of their employees after five months in order to avoid paying them higher wages which are required by law after that tenure. Perhaps that’s why no one could tell us where to find shampoo, even though at every turn there were three employees looking over our shoulders. We wondered if SM was owned by Wal-Mart? We also visited Intramuros which is the oldest section of Manila and had old monuments and churches in the Spanish style. We learned about the history of the Philippines and how she has struggled for independence, including the importance of Dr. Jose Rizal who, upon his execution in 1897, became a national martyr and for many he is now considered a saint. On the way back, we braved a jeepney ride. Since there wasn’t any glass for the windows, we had to inhale the exhaust from all the other vehicles. Nonetheless, it was an interesting ride, as people got on and off from the back, including the hawkers selling individual cigarettes for a couple pesos ($.05). Although we spent several days in Manila, we recommend that those traveling to the Philippines get out of the capital city as quickly as possible. Despite its lack of appeal, the variety of food in Manila is very satisfying, especially if you have a sweet tooth. It seems that they add sugar to everything, even mayonnaise! And for those ice tea lovers, be warned that it is so sweet that your teeth tingle.

Our escape from the city came when the weekend rolled around and we headed with our hosts toward the provincial town of Tagaytay...at the snail pace of 15mph. Yet when we reached the countryside, we could breathe the difference; the air was clean and you could hear the crickets chirping at night. The roosters woke us up in the morning along with the neighborhood's stray dogs. Although we’d heard the rumor that dog is part of the Philippine cuisine, we never saw it on a menu. From Tagaytay we ventured to Lake Taal which is a lake within a volcano within a lake (within a volcano within a lake….). Very post-modern. We took a small outrigger, a traditional boat, from the larger lake to the volcano and hired horses to trek to the rim of the volcano which overlooked a crater lake. Although we went “horseback riding,” some of these horses were so small that the staff called them “goats” in Tagalog (the Filipino language). At the top of the volcano, we enjoyed some buka or fresh coconut milk through straws and even scooped out the fleshy coconut meat...yum.

Our day of goatback riding was followed by a trip to Anilao, where Jason and Joe went diving Colette is an avid diver but had to abstain since she is pregnant (!) so the girls had fun hanging out all day while the boys dived. Then, we endured the traffic back to Manila where we learned that a “terrorist bomb” had gone off at Glorietta Mall, another mega mall, where Colette’s mom has a store. Later, the news reported that it wasn’t a bomb but fuel stores at the ground level exploded, but this was unconfirmed by the time we left. This unfortunate news was followed by some more bad news; Joe’s sister, who lives near San Diego, lost her house in the devastating wild fires. Thankfully no one was hurt. We ended up going to Glorietta the following day to purchase our onward flights to Palawan. Although we were unable to see the spot of the explosion the acrid air was suffocating and likely toxic. Incredibly, the place was packed, as if nothing extraordinary had happened. On the way back from the mall, we got to experience the joys of Manila's public transport at rush hour. We had to wait as full trains passed by and when we finally got on, we were packed in so tight we couldn't move. And, as was true throughout our stay in the Philippines, Jason was a full head taller than everyone else.

On our last night out, we visited the Hobbit House which employs only “short people” with the exception of the bartender who has to be able to see above the bar. While there, we listened to the headliner Rheena (mistakenly introduced as “Sheena”) who tried to imitate Shakira but without the stage presence and hip shakes. Apparently this was her moment to shine as she was so nervous that she had to use notes to remember to thank her parents. Fortunately for her we were in the back so she couldn’t hear our laughter.

Our next destination was the remote islands of Palawan. We boarded the cozy charter plane that had a maximum capacity of 22, including the pilots who were visible from our seats and within arms length of the front row passengers. The propellers were loud and the ride was beautiful as we flew over hundreds of the 7000 islands that comprise the Philippines in the blue and turquoise water. We arrived at El Nido, whose tiny airport consisted of four wooden posts and a thatched roof and whose runway doubles as the road to the airport. Thus, we had to wait for our airplane to take off with a new set of passengers before Giselle, Colette’s younger sister, and her husband, Mik, picked us up. Mik’s grandfather, former mayor of El Nido, was ill and had asked Mik to take over the family business, the Marina Garden Cottage Resort. From our oceanside cottage, we could hear and see the gentle waves hitting the beach. There is no better way to fall asleep than to the sound of ocean waves. The town of El Nido was not very commercialized, although the markings of development are starting to creep in. There were no hawkers asking you if you need transport or to buy a cheap souvenir. Dozens of children played on the beaches, and some of them skim boarded, which entails running with the board and dropping it down to skim the waves. Normal surfing is impossible because the waves are way too small. Mik’s younger brother Johan and his friends were in the process of creating skimboards for some of the local kids. The beach has a small port which is too tiny for large boats so you get a nice view of the traditional outrigger boats, one of which had been built in the 1940s! Electricity is available only between noon and 4 pm and then again from about 6 pm to 6 am. The roosters and pigs act as a natural alarm clock and a loud horn sounds at 9:45 pm sharp, warning the children that curfew is in fifteen minutes. In addition to all of this, the island is surrounded by hundreds of other lush granite islands. Although the island is peaceful, we found entertainment on our first night, at a restaurant that served the best steaks we’ve eaten since leaving the States. Some locals played live Filipino folk music by Freddie Aguilar and others and Jason even joined in on a homemade bongo drum.

Unfortunately, it rained all through the following day; however, we hung out with our hosts and had many good laughs and Jason and Johan introduced each other to lots of new music. Mik was always willing to share his extensive knowledge of marine wildlife, among other things. Did you know that sharks and manta rays can have offspring? (at least in Mik’s world they can, haha).

The next day, we awoke to menacing looking grey skies. However, after some reassurance from our tour guide Bamboo that the seas would be calm, the four of us, sans Johan who had to “work”, hopped onto the outrigger to go island hopping. We started off in the boat and passed by “Helicopter” Island which we all agreed looked more like a dinosaur than a chopper. When we reached the small lagoon on Miniloc Island, we were happy that Bamboo’s instinct was correct and the rain was gone, leaving us to bask in the sun. This pattern of the sun following us to each destination would persist throughout the day. We got into the water and had been warned about stonefish which are painful and look like coral. Sure enough, within minutes, Bamboo found one and pointed it out to us. We then swam through a small cave opening in the water to a small lagoon which was enclosed by granite walls mixed with lush tropical flora. The water in the lagoon was a mixture of warm ocean water and cold spring water. Under water, we could hear the crackles of the spring water entering the lagoon. We swam through the lagoon to an area where there was an even smaller enclosed area. The water was much colder here and we learned that spiders (even great big hairy ones) can swim. Our next stop was the Big Lagoon on the other side of Miniloc Island which had an entrance just big enough for the boat to get through. Due to millennia of erosion, the granite cliffs had very interesting formations, and Bamboo showed us the most famous ones, including Batman and the Virgin Mary. We then went to the tiny Simizu Island for some snorkeling, where Bamboo caught a puffer fish and we played with it before it waddled away. Bamboo found a secluded and deserted beach at which his assistant BBQ’d pork and fish. After lunch, we proceeded to Snake “Island” which was in actuality just a curving sand bank that connects two islands during low tide. Apparently the official island designator was padding the stats on that one. Then we went to Cudugnon Cave, the entrance of which was tiny, so Bamboo helped us climb through. Although it smelled like bat droppings, the colors were fascinating and changed depending on which way the sun hit the walls. Our final stop of the day was Seven Commando Beach for some more superb snorkelling.

A couple days later the same group (plus Johan) went to see some more islands (there are usually 3 tours but Bamboo combined them into 2 for us). Whereas the first time we went out, the threatening skies proved harmless, this time was the opposite and the rain seemed to follow us around all day. Despite the rain, we enjoyed the misty views and snorkeling, although we all had to endure jellyfish stinging us at one of the spots. While driving through the Tapuitan Straight, we stopped at a church which stood alone on the island without any other establishments. We learned that this church has only one service per year in May. It was set against the green background and above it were granite cliffs. We then went snorkeling at another site where Bamboo, being a conservationist, was angry that the coral was mostly dead due to dynamite fishing even though he'd recently seen it alive. Sadly, even though dynamite fishing is illegal, it still happens in areas not designated (and thus protected) as national parks. This second day of island hopping also included a barbeque lunch at our very own beach. Jason was adventurous enough to eat pork face, including the ear and snout. Priti opted for the fish. Bamboo then took us to the Secret Beach, which was hidden behind huge granite stones and not listed on the maps, meaning we once again had the place to ourselves. Although it had been raining earlier, the water was crystal clear and we could see the sand waves at the bottom. And then all of a sudden, we saw baby black-tipped reef sharks dart across the water with acceleration that seemed impossible. Then, even more incredibly, they made a 270-degree turn without slowing down. After arriving back at the Marina Garden Cottage resort wet and tired, we learned that our flight the following day from El Nido to Basuanga, another island in Palawan, was cancelled. We decided to think about our travel options over a steak dinner but were disappointed to learn that they were out of steak. The thing about Palawan island is that it is so remote that if one place doesn’t have a food item, like beef, that means all the restaurants and stores don’t have it either and won’t until the next shipment. We figured bad things happen in threes – the rain, the cancelled flight, and no delicious steak for dinner.

The following day was the most gorgeous day thus far at El Nido; not a cloud in the sky and totally calm water. We kayaked to a small island called Cadlao that was a few kilometers from El Nido beach. Our own private island – well at least for the afternoon. We basked in the sun and snorkeled around half of it since it was pretty small. The coral was beautiful and untouched since tour groups do not go snorkeling here (they figure it’s too close to El Nido beach to charge people.) While snorkeling, we came across a school of six or seven dark silver/grey barracudas. We hovered, keeping our distance and waiting for them to move along, but they just stayed there, essentially warning us that we were on their turf. Even though we’d been diving with sharks, this was the first time that underwater animals had a truly menacing presence, and when Priti saw one open its jaw and show off its sharp teeth, she ended the snorkeling excursion. No one wants to be a meal for barracuda. During the evening, before dinner we tried chicken intestine from a local vendor. The top part tasted like gizzard but by the end it tasted more like liver...yuk. Luckily another vendor had fried bananas to get rid of the bitter aftertaste. Later, we enjoyed a candlelit dinner with our hosts in their courtyard. Then we moved to the restaurant next door to enjoy desert and more snacks on the beach with the waves crashing literally at our feet.

Our time in Palawan sadly had come to an end and the next day, we lounged on a large outrigger for eight and half hours to Coron, which is well-known for its numerous wreck dives, mostly Japanese ships from WWII. Coron itself is a city built on the water with each building elevated on strong wooden posts. The passageways between homes are rickety bamboo bridges that seemed barely able to withstand our weight. Priti had another go at diving and Jason again fed the addiction he had acquired in Fiji. The coral was the most pristine and colorful that Jason had seen thus far diving and the wrecks were something to behold. Jason even got to go inside (i.e., penetrate) one of the wrecks at a depth of about 30 meters. It was a bit scary but exhilirating to look up and not see sunlight. Also, the bubbles would get trapped in various spots so once they surfaced they continued to see bubbles as if there were ghost divers still underwater. After enjoying a full day of diving, our all-too-brief stay on Coron was done. The next day we were off to Manila which was spent, strangely, at a local cemetery for All Soul's (or Saint's) Day, where we saw thousands of families honoring their deceased relatives by hanging out at their grave sites, lighting candles, and feasting on food. Similar to when we arrived, the contrast between the rich and poor Filipinos was eye-opening; whereas some families relaxed in compounds, others lit effegies in vacant fields littered with debris. We were the only tourists there and thus got some interesting looks from the locals, both positive and negative. We joined in the festivities by sampling some skewered meats and sweets from the street vendors. And onward we go to Thailand where the feasting will continue.

Malaysia

After arriving in Kuala Lumpur (or KL as the locals call it), Malaysia at 3 am, we caught a teksi into the city and kept looking at each other in trepidation as we zoomed by other vehicles at 160+ kph (100 mph). We arrived in record time at the condo of Mr. Reyes, the father of a childhood friend of Priti’s, who graciously hosted us in KL. As the taxi driver searched for his street, we drove in small circles in the Golden Triangle neighborhood of KL. Despite the hour, the streets were alive with a random assortment of people. The kadai kopis (street cafes) were packed with Muslim Malays eating their morning meal prior to fasting from dawn to dusk for Ramadan. Lamp posts had festive lights dangling from them, as though it were Christmas. Others have compared KL to NYC due to its incredible diversity and active nightlife. Although the majority of the country is Islamic, according to our host, KL is comprised mostly of Chinese, along with Malays and Indians. Thus, the people wore a range of clothes from tank tops and shirts to being fully covered from head to ankle. Many women wore jeans and long-sleeved t-shirts with a head scarf.On our first day, we went to the KLCC mall which is, like most of the malls in Asia, massive. It was six stories tall and had stores, and shoppers, from all over the world. One of the funniest sights we’ve seen on our trip is a group of Japanese tourists marveling at one of the stores in the mall as the tour guide told a fascinating tale about…your guess is as good as ours. One cool thing about the malls in Asia is that many of them host cultural events to offer a reprieve from the consumerism. Thus, we enjoyed a set of traditional Arabic music and watched a fashion show. Despite the fasting period, the restaurants in the mall were open for business. One of them was a desert place that served Durian which is a tropical fruit that was forbidden in Indonesia and Australia due to its unpleasant odor. We figured it was now or never so we gave it a try. The “ABC Durian” consisted of pureed durian on top of what looked like shaved ice mixed with an assortment of jelly candies and beans. The smell of durian was malodorous, sort of like rotten meat, yet the taste was sweet and nutty with the texture of sweet potatoes. Surprisingly tasty but something we probably won’t be eating again. Upon leaving the mall we stumbled into a local after-work market selling various skewered meats that we couldn’t resist, despite having full stomachs…yum!

The next day we went to the Petronas Towers, the tallest building in the world at 452 meters.

For some reason, they only let visitors up to the 42^nd floor to the sky bridge that connects the towers. Before they let us ascend, we had to sit through a 3D presentation about the wonders of oil exploration, courtesy of Petronas. The views weren’t that impressive and we were ushered back down after about five minutes. At least we hadn’t arrived early and stood in line for hours like all the other tourists, as Mr. Reyes scored us tickets. From the outside however, the Petronas Towers were spectacular, with their stainless steel exterior and building design modeled after an eight-pointed star which is an important symbol in the Islamic faith. We're not sure whether it looks better during the day or night.

Despite its chaotic appearance, KL is a city of street vendors and markets. We explored Masjib India’s markets and searched in vain for Jason’s favorite Indian sweets called ladoos, which are little orange flecks of fried dough sculpted into ping pong balls. The Indian food was pretty good, but of course couldn’t hold a candle to Mom’s home cooking. We also enjoyed eating seafood at Jalan Alor street market where the oysters, calamari, and fish were freshly caught. Malays like their food spicy and every table has sweet and spicy chili sauce – something that will definitely be added to our cupboard when we return to the States. Another interesting characteristic of all the restaurants, save for a few Chinese ones, is that they are Halal, meaning no pork due to the Islamic religion. Even the fast food restaurants alter their menus to serve “turkey bacon” or “beef pepperoni.” As described, the nightlife in KL was pretty good, with a wide range of environments and music. One place alternated a grunge cover band with a DJ spinning house music while another coupled reggae with R & B.

After four days in the city, we finally managed to venture out on a day trip north to the Batu Caves. Before arriving there, the “tour” (which was basically shuffling a bunch of tourists on a bus for 20x the cost of the local bus), took us to a pewter plant and a batik factory. Other than trying to get us to buy things, we couldn’t figure out how or why the three locales were combined into the same tour. The Batu Caves themselves, which house a Hindu temple, were spectacular with a cornucopia of carvings under the shadow of a gargantuan gold statue of a Hindu God. While we were visiting the caves, a Bollywood movie was being filmed that was depicting the biggest festivalof the city, Thaipusam, which typically draws more than a million worshipers. We watched Indians in colorful orange and yellow garb dance to the festive music, and Jason spotted a hippie doppelganger of Priti’s brother Pinto among the performers.

Tired of the urban environment, we flew to Sabah, Borneo, which is known for its natural splendor and captivating wildlife. Unfortunately for us, we hadn’t accounted for Hari Raya, or the celebration at the conclusion of Ramadan. Thus, when we tried to arrange activities outside of our arrival city of Kota Kinabalu (KK), we were disappointed to learn that all of the public busses were booked for the week. Thankfully, the company had arranged for a small mini-bus in a few days so we were only stuck in KK for a few days. But, the delays meant that we would not be able to see everything, so we had to cut out Sipadan, which is world-renowned for its marine wildlife. The nightlife in KK wasn’t nearly as exciting as KL, and consisted mostly of cheesy non-English karaoke bars and overpriced drinks.

Our first Borneo excursion consisted of a two-day hike up Mt. Kinabalu, the tallest mountain in SE Asia at over 4000 meters. Even from afar, it has a menacing presence, and we knew we were in for a grueling couple of days. Sure enough, the hike was a hellacious one. The trail is 8.5 km and the elevation increases 2.2 km, from 1800 meters above sea level at the trailhead to 4095 km at the summit. In other words, it is STEEP. The entire trail is uphill, offering almost no reprieve to hikers. As we slowly paced ourselves on the ascent, we were amazed at the porters who would zip right by us with loads ranging from 20-50 km (66-110 lbs.) that were harnessed on wooden contraptions to their heads/necks! Near the end of the first day, we experienced some heavy rainfall, which is another characteristic of Mt. Kinabalu. Exhausted and wet, we arrived at our lodge and were pleasantly surprised to learn that we’d gotten a heated room (we were told it would not be). (Tangent: During dinner, we spoke with an Aussie couple who told us a harrowing tale while they were traveling in India fifteen years ago. The driver of their public bus misread a narrow road and flipped their bus, killing several passengers. The driver had immediately fled the scene, knowing the other passengers would have enacted revenge for his stupidity.) After dinner, we tried to get to bed early in order to be rested by our 2 am departure to the top of the mountain the next morning.

After a fitful night’s sleep, Priti decided to stay in bed and let Jason ascend to the pinnacle with our guide. The rest of the hike was similarly brutal and at one point became so steep that the only way forward was with a secured rope. Jason was the 3^rd hiker to the peak and thus had beaten the sunrise by about 45 minutes. Although the weather at the base of the mountain was hot and humid, at the top it was freezing temperatures. When the sun finally appeared over the adjacent mountaintop it was a spectacular view. After about ten minutes, the clouds began to roll in, and five minutes later the visibility was virtually nil. As Jason descended, he felt sorry for the many other hikers he passed on the way down who had not reached the summit before the clouds rolled in. Thankfully, there was no rain on the way down, as the granite trail was already slick, as evidenced by Jason’s several wipeouts before returning to the lodge, where Priti had enjoyed a nice restful morning. We had more time on the descent to examine some of the local flora, including various orchids and “Pitcher” plants. We also enjoyed the company of our roommates Peter, a German physician living in Britain, and his wife Regina, who were traveling for four months for their honeymoon.

The grueling hike took its toll on Jason, whose left knee began throbbing, forcing him to limp back down the mountain and use our guide’s walking stick for support. By the time we finished, Priti’s legs were numb and Jason was jealous since he was feeling only pain in his.

We returned to KK for one night before departing for Sakau for a safari cruise along the Kinabatangan River. The drive took about seven hours as the roads were not in the best condition. Over the course of the three days, we went on four different boat rides to go searching for the local wildlife. They included the Proboscis monkeys, which, due to their large noses and large bellies were nicknamed the “Dutchmen” monkey by the locals. After seeing them just sitting up in the trees inert, we understood why their stomachs were so large. We also saw many Grey-tail monkeys, and for those of you watching the videos, be forewarned that they are a horny lot. We spotted lots of different birds, including Kingfishers, Rhinocerous Hornbills, Whitecrested Eagles, and many more which we don’t recall the names. Unfortunately, we just missed the Pygmy Elephants, which had been around a few weeks prior to our arrival, but had moved deeper into the forest with the arrival of the rains. During the evenings, we went on night walks and saw many more birds. Jason, feeling courageous, even let a gigantic scorpion crawl up his arm.

Priti served as a leech repelant for Jason (she must have tastier blood) and unfortunately had to endure several leech bites. To get leeches off, you can flick them when they are crawling or use vinager, salt, insect repellent, or tiger balm after one has attached to the skin. The night walks were a bit disappointing because we had so many people in our group, due to understaffing because of Hari Raya. The tradeoff was that on the 2^nd evening we were invited to attend a celebration courtesy of the owner of the nature lodge. We found their hospitality during their holiday celebration admirable, and the food was delicious. We met some cool people on the Kinabatangan River tour, including Frank, a German who’d been living in Austin and was on a circuitous route home to renew his visa. He was also the keyboardist of an indie rock band called the Glass Family. Incredibly, Frank was on the same flight to Fiji as we were, and we have basically been on the same route during our trip! We’re pretty sure we’ll see him again.

Our final stop in Malaysia was Sepilok, home to the Orangutan sanctuary. Of course we went on probably the busiest day of the year, as it was the Sunday of the long holiday weekend. Thus, the crowds were pretty big and, although the animals have free reign in the sanctuary as they are rehabilitated back into the wild, it felt more like a zoo. Also, we couldn’t believe the discrepancy in the prices they charged locals (5 ringits) versus the tourists (40 ringits).

Although it was only $12, the skewing of the pricing structure seemed a tad extreme, but apparently we'll be experiencing a lot of it in Asia. Despite these annoyances, it was a great experience to see the Orangutans in their natural habitats. The sanctuary has platforms set up and there are two daily feedings. We saw a handful of Orangutans and they were fascinating to watch, as they swung acrobatically on the ropes and enjoyed bunches of bananas. There was also another group of monkeys that mischievously grabbed the leftovers.

Wow, how the time is flying; we hope everyone is well and keep in touch!

Indonesia

Picture the following scene: a crowded bustling street filled with surfers on their way to catch some killer waves, tourists from around the globe, scores of motorcycles screaming by, passing and avoiding each other by mere inches, merchants and charlatans alike trying to make a quick buck, and incense wafting through air from the practicing Hindus offering morning prayers of rice and fruit. KA-BOOM. The noise seems to surround you and the onrush of air knocks you to your feet. Every store within view no longer has any windows, as shattered glass rains down around you. You turn your head to see an unimaginable spectacle; smoke billowing out of a nearby hotel, the parked cars half-missing and in flames; charred, mangled bodies in impossible angles, and then come the screams....

Just over five years ago, on October 12, 2002, extremists exploded a bomb in a Kuta hotel, killing 189 people, including seven Americans. Unbeknownst to us when we booked it, the location of this senseless tragedy was less than 200 meters from our hotel. Today there remains a fenced-off vacant lot, adorned with a handful of remembrances from the victims’ friends and families. Across the street, a memorial lists the victims by nationality. Although we had forgotten the specifics, we remembered hearing about this bombing when it occurred. Upon realizing just how close we were to this horrific scene and not even knowing it, we became pretty emotional. Later on, we would meet someone who had a friend perish in the blast.

The reason we were in Kuta was because our flight arrived too late to get somewhere further from the airport. Nonetheless, we were thrilled when we arrived to find a king size bed, full a/c, bathroom with hot shower, and a pool to boot!

The next day was spent in recovery, as we both slept throughout the day in our spacious and oh so comfortable bed. After having spent the last week either in tents or dorms, we were completely content just catching up on some z’s. Well rested, the next day we hired a driver, who took us to a parasailing spot. It was a bit disappointing because it lasted only about 5 minutes, but it was just $10. Next we visited this temple with massive statues of a religious figure and a dragon (see Jason cowering below for a sense of scale).

Then it was off to Uluwatu, a famous temple right at the edge of these scenic cliffs, where we caught the sunset with some monkeys and watched a Kecak fire dance depicting the classic Hindu story of Rama and Sita.

Watching a group of barely clothed men swaying and chanting in rhythm, with the sun setting on the ocean, was definitely a moving experience (see video). Our final stop was Jimbaran, where we enjoyed a romantic seafood dinner on the beach while being serenaded by local musicians with “Something” and “Could You Be Loved?” in broken English.

Our next stop was Ubud, the art center of Bali, where we were accosted by Yandy, who offered us a room for 75,000 rupiahs a night, or about $8, including breakfast! We were skeptical so he took us back to the homestay and we were blown away by the décor, which were like a shrine.

We booked a couple nights and then ventured out to see the town, passing galleries galore, massage parlors, and shops selling clothes, wood carvings, and jewelry. We made our way to the monkey sanctuary, where about 300 monkeys live. We were both glad we hadn’t booked a tour that would’ve given us a set time in the forest because we ended up staying there for about three hours. For dinner, we ventured a bit off the main street to a local warung, and enjoyed a simple but great dinner of mie goreng (fried noodles, meat and veggies) for about $2 each.

The following day we went whitewater rafting on the Telaga Waja river. Unfortunately, it was the end of the dry season so the rafting was pretty tame, although we did get to go over a four meter fall and learn how to say “paddle forward” in Japanese (hungataki!) Following Yandy’s recommendation, we waited until the following evening to attend a Legong dance show, hosted by a group that has toured the world. Balinese music is unlike anything we’ve ever heard before.

To our ears, which are accustomed to melodies and western rhythms, it initially appeared as noise; however, as we grew acclimated to the structure of the music, it became much more enjoyable. There were also lots of incredible dancers with very striking features. Following the dance show, we ate some great seafood at a restaurant overlooking rice paddies.

During our 2nd week there, we got to witness a glimpse of the true Bali, compliments of a daylong bicycle and cultural tour. We started off by driving north from Ubud and having a splendid breakfast overlooking the Gunung Batur volcano, which last exploded in 1963. Forty-four years later the remnants of that explosion were still clearly visible, through the gaping crater and lava rocks covering the southern slope.

During the drive up, we learned a wealth of information about Bali from our intrepid guide Darma. Now 41 but looking at least a decade younger, Darma had left his banjar, or community, at age 14 to seek an education on the island of Java, Bali’s western neighbor. His first five years in Java were spent in servitude, working from 3:30 am until midnight, as he was too ashamed to inform his family of the extremely harsh conditions under which he was enduring. He eventually saved up enough money to fund his English education, which he pursued over the next five years, again at the absurd hours of 10 pm to 6 am (he slept on the bus). After finishing his studies, he returned home (as the youngest male, as opposed to the more common custom of the oldest male, he is responsible for the caretaking of his parents) and now lives with his extended family of 40 in a compound.

Later in the day, we would visit a compound to see firsthand how he and millions of other Balinese live. Besides his history, Darma described many of the beliefs of the Balinese, who are Hindu but of a very different sort than Indian Hinduism. At its most basic, everything revolves around one’s banjar. This is why a family will willingly accept conditions of abject poverty in order to save up the 30-50 million rupiahs ($3-5K) in order to cremate their dead; not individually but collectively every three to five years (as an individual ceremony would be cost prohibitive)! Some of the underlying beliefs for these seemingly bizarre priorities are the well-known concept of karma, whereby humans are reincarnated based on the quality of their lives. Also, they believe in the separation between sekala (visible world) and the much more important niskala (invisible world) [Jason interpreted this as the equivalent to the notions of the implicate and explicate orders: DO YOURSELF A FAVOR]. Apparently these beliefs are not always enough to keep the people in line, as the banjars can expel a member for not adhering to the rules.

This is no laughing matter as the price of re-entry is a whopping 75-100 million rupiahs ($7500-10K), about 10 years’ salary of the average Balinese. A few other interesting facts about the Balinese: they don’t have surnames, and 1st born children receive one of three names, 2nd born on of three different names, and so on until the 5th child, who gets one of the three names reserved for first-borns (yet another example of the emphasis on banjar rather than the individual); they do not celebrate birthdays (although they do have a six month shaving ceremony) and thus do not know how old they are; during adolescence they have their six canine teeth filed down to be even with the rest of their teeth because they look too savage and represent the six primary sins of lust, greed, anger, drunkenness, confusion, and jealousy.

Once we got on the bikes, Jason was a bit disappointed that it was all downhill; we literally did not peddle the entire trip and had to ride our brakes throughout most of it. However, we got to stop at some wonderful spots:

the famous Tegallalang rice terraces that have to be seen to be appreciated; a “plantation,” where we had fresh snakefruit (mix of apple, pineapple and kiwi), hot cocoa, coffee, and cigarettes (from the sweetest tobacco we’ve ever tasted); a family compound whose business was bamboo and whose “bank” was their cow, worth a cool four million rupiah ($400); and a wood carving shop, where a dozen uneducated males created scores of identical “antiques” for the local shops. Throughout the day we also saw dozens of genuinely ancient Hindu temples, many of which were in preparation for ceremonies and thus adorned with colorful vertical ribbons and ornate animals, all made from bamboo. Our final stop was to see another rice field that was near the end of its four-month harvesting process.

Having eaten rice with every meal over the past week, we did not have to be told how important rice is to the Balinese, but we were astounded to learn that the former Indonesian Prime Minister, Nurdin Halid, had actually imported rice back in the early naughties, and was currently standing trial for this and other malfeasances during his tenure. Perhaps the world would be a better place if all politicians were immediately placed on trial so that we could weed out all the scumbags and start anew with the one percent that made it through the vetting process. We would attach the addendum “save for all of the rat bastard politicians” to the principle of “guilty until proven innocent.” To work off some of his pent-up rage, Jason thankfully got to do some uphill riding while Priti and most of the others followed along in the van. Finally, we were treated to an incredible feast of roasted chicken and duck, satay, fried tofu, nasi goreng (rice, meats & veggies) and the best tempeh (sweet & spicy) we’ve ever tasted. Despite spending an average of $8 per meal for both of us, Balinese cuisine is the best we’ve tasted thus far on our trip.

Although we were having a great time in Ubud, we left the next day for Padang Bai, a quiet beach town that would be our launching point to the Gilis (islands). Jason went snorkeling in the blue lagoon and got mauled by the coral because the tide was low. That night we hung out a bar that actually had some acoustic live music, then proceeded to the “reggae” bar, which consisted of Bob Marley and then some more Nesta. Sadly, despite all the locals being reggae fans, none of them have heard of Toots and the Maytalls. We weren’t too impressed with Padang Bai so we left the next day for the island of Trawangan.

The ride over was pretty crazy because of the choppy conditions. There were several points where the boat seemed to be on the verge of tipping. Priti went inside the cabin and some of the tourists had put on lifejackets while the locals laughed at them. Meanwhile, Jason was hanging out on the side that was closest to the water, obliviously taking pictures. Upon arriving we got a decent room on the beach for $8 and headed out to see the island.

A few things are absent on the island, leading to a very unique atmosphere: 1) cars, 2) police, and 3) cat tails . The only mode of transport are horse-drawn buggies and any law enforcement is handled by the tribal chief. Also, our fears of animal cruelty were allayed upon finding out that the cats were sans tails due to inbreeding.

The following day, Jason signed up for an advanced open water diving course with Bruno, a lively Frenchman who had a doctorate in marine biology. That afternoon he completed the navigation dive but the night dive was pushed back due to the full moon. That evening, we ate dinner at a place that had private viewing booths on the beach with tvs/dvds; we initially picked the Bourne Supremacy but after seeing a person's head in the corner of the screen, we switched to 300, a solid albeit violent flick. The next morning Jason did the deep dive, which was pretty cool; then the peak performance buoyancy, where we tried to hone our skills and did back flips a la the Matrix; then the night dive, which was much scarier than he thought it would be. It didn’t help that the boat drivers stopped at the wrong place so we had to ride the sides of the boat for about 10 minutes before climbing back aboard with our gear still on. The final dive was a photography dive. Throughout the course, we saw lots of cool things like massive turtles, a Spanish dancer, an octopus, and a school of big bumpheads. While Jason was diving, Priti enjoyed a day of snorkeling on a glass bottom boat that took her to two other islands, where she saw lots of fish and turtles as well.

Our final evening in Trawangan was pleasant, starting off with a sunset hike to the top of the island with Mohammed, a local guy who had “taken care” of Priti during the snorkeling trip while I was diving. He took us on a “short cut” which essentially meant sans trail considering it took about the same amount of time. He also informed us he was a Marlboro Man (Me Always Respect Ladies But Only the Rich/Right Ones). After the hike we had a nice sushi dinner with three Dutch: Bin, a divemaster; Loren, a 2nd Basemen, and his girlfriend Desharda. Much to our relief, the return trip was far less harrowing as the seas were much calmer. We returned to Ubud so that Jason could get a massage and Priti could take a cooking class. After her class, Priti took a nap. Her unconscious was working overtime, as she realized in a dream that our plane was later that night rather than the following day. The brilliant Qatar Airlines scheduled our flight for 12:05 am, causing us to miscalculate our departure. Fortunately we were able to make our flight without too much hassle, although we were set to arrive in KL at 3 am, far from the city center. Thanks QA!