Your Fearless Travelers

Your Fearless Travelers
Your Fearless Travelers

Wednesday, March 28, 2012

Getting By With a Little Help From Our Friends- Southern Thailand

Traveling around the world has afforded us many amazing opportunities. We've been able to try wonderful food, have interesting conversations, see works of art, explore different cultures and learn a lot about this planet we all share. But the one thing that we have rarely had throughout this journey is great people to share it with. Don't get me wrong. We have met wonderful people along the way, but there is something about old friends that makes traveling even more fun. Luckily, we have two brave friends who decided to leave behind the comforts of home and meet us out on the road. Abbie and Andy- This one's for you!


Mark and I flew in to Phuket, Thailand and immediately hopped on a ferry to Ko Phi Phi, a legendary archipelago made up of limestone rock islands and surrounded by emerald water. If you have ever seen a picture of the Thai islands, you have most likely seen a picture of Ko Phi Phi. 

Abbie and Andy met us on the dock as we landed, and we took a long-tail boat ride (the first of many) to our resort, Phi Phi Relax. Now, if you've been following our blog, you know that we are typical travelers, which basically means that we're broke. However, we are also planners, so when we found out that our friends were meeting us in Thailand, we allocated a special fund of money for the week that we would spend together. So for this week (and this week only) we were able to live like vacationers, not travelers. And MAN it felt good. 

We arrived at the aptly named Phi Phi Relax which is a collection of bungalows situated along a secluded stretch of beach, about a fifty minute walk from the main town.


We spent the first day swimming and snorkelling in the crystal clear water, and we spent the evening eating delicious Thai food at the restaurant.













As the sun went down, a group of French travelers that were also staying at our resort started a bonfire on the beach and we joined them for an evening of singing, laughing, and attempted communication. ("I'm going to speak to you half in French and half in Spanish. Is that okay?")

The next day, we were all looking for a little adventure, so we decided to head over the mountain and into Ko Phi Phi Town. On the way, there was a spectacular view point where you could see that the "town" is really just a few ramshackle structures built on a tiny strip of land that connects the two sides of the island. 

The views were breathtaking, but the hike was tough. The trail was rocky and ragged, and we were all wearing flip-flops, sarongs and bathing suits... not exactly the right hiking gear. When we got into town, we had some drinks at the beach-front bar then decided to get an early dinner. 

At around 5 o'clock we sat down to a dinner of fried red snapper, Massaman curry, shrimp with garlic, and pineapple fried rice. Pretty standard, really. However, as we finished that glorious feast, we noticed that the sun had gone down a bit earlier than we expected. By the time we got to the trail that led back to Phi Phi Relax, it was pitch black outside. And so began the adventure.

Luckily, Abbie had a flashlight app on her phone (thank you Steve Jobs) because without that, we would probably still be living out in those woods. Andy took the lead, and the flashlight, and led us through the dense jungle on a miniscule path peppered with roots and rocks (but surprisingly little reggae). We all experienced a moment of panic when we came to an intersection with 5 different paths. We just looked at eachother and said, "Straight?" We were relieved to see a sign post not long after that, so we knew we had chosen the right trail. We groped our way through that forest for an hour and forty minutes before we saw the sweet, sweet lights of Phi Phi Relax. We emerged unscathed, if a bit sweaty, and no worse for the wear. We dove right into the ocean to cool off and reward ourselves for surviving our most dangerous adventure... so far.

A few days later we traveled to the town of Ao Nang. There we booked a private long tail boat (oh yeah, a PRIVATE boat) to take us out to see some of the smaller islands in the area. We set out in the early morning with Captain Jack Sparrow (not kidding) at the helm.

Captain Jack! He'll take you to your special island. 

Captain Jack took us out into the impossibly blue Andaman Sea on a tour of four islands. 




The islands in that area are limestone rocks that have been whittled away over millions of years by rainwater, leaving dramatic craggy boulders in the middle of the water. I'll let Mark tell you more about it.


We stopped to snorkel at two different spots, which was a combination of a fantasy and a nightmare scenario. The fish were beautiful and colorful but there were times that I thought they were going to get organized and attack me (Hey, it's not completely unheard of! A fish bit Abbie at Phi Phi Relax and it drew blood!) Needless to say, Abbie and I stuck together... safety in numbers. 

One of the highlights of the day was our second snorkeling spot. Captain Jack took us to an island that had a cave underneath it. We swam into the cave and were surrounded by swallows flying about and making their nests. The nests are made from the bird's saliva and they are harvested by nimble Thais who climb rickety bamboo ladders to collect them. The nest is then placed in boiling water and VOILA you've got Bird's Nest Soup. At $100 per bowl, it is a fancy Thai delicacy. No, we didn't try it. We're vacationers, not Rockefellers.


We visited Chicken Island (so named because it looks like poultry.... kinda) and then on to Railay Beach. Railay is famous for the enormous limestone cliffs that surround it. Rock climbers come from far and wide to climb there.



At the far end of Railay Beach there is a cave that the villagers believe is the home of Phranang, the Princess Goddess. Before setting out to sea, fishermen leave offerings such as flowers or incense, but her favorite offering, according to the villagers, is lingams. They believe that placing a lingam in this holy place will ensure fertility and prosperity to earth and to mankind. If you're not sure what a lingam is, I'm not going to spell it out, but look closely at the pictures. 



We left Ao Nang and took a ferry ride over to Ko Phangan on the eastern side of the Thailand peninsula. We checked into our beach front resort (noticing a theme?) and spent our first day relaxing and reading by the pool. That afternoon we rented motorbikes and went into town to find some lunch. With only 12,000 people living on the whole island, the towns are all quite small, but we were able to find some of the best food we ate in all our travels. We chose Mama Pooh's because of her very persuasive sign.


When we sat down, there was a note on the menu that said, "Our chef does not speak English. Please write the number of the food you would like to eat." That's how you know it's going to be good. And it was. We ate curry, fried rice, Tom Yum soup and a side dish called morning glories, which we can only assume are the leaves of the morning glory flower.

After spending a few days relaxing, we were looking forward to another adventure. We decided to embark on the epic hike to Bottle Beach, one of the best known beaches on Koh Phangan, despite the urging of our guide book to avoid the "nightmare trek." We took our motorbikes to the end of a road and there was a small sign that said "Bottle Beach, 4km." That's not THAT far, we stupidly said to ourselves. But when you combine the distance with a heat index of 105 degrees and the fact that it was a hike over TWO MOUNTAINS, it was pretty outrageous. Again, we found ourselves clamoring over rocks and roots, slipping through loose gravel and getting smacked with jungle branches. And since we are apparently unable to learn from our previous experiences, we were, once again, inappropriately dressed.

About 40 minutes into the uphill climb, I slipped on a rock and my foot went flying forward and snapped my flip flop. The thong was completely detached from the sole and there was no way to repair it. Everyone gave me the option to turn back, but, not wanting to be a Debbie Downer, I said we should press on. Besides, if we turned back I would still have forty minutes of unshod hiking to get back to the bikes. So we fashioned a make-shift shoe made of the sole of my flip flop and a bandana. It worked reasonably well on the uphill climb, but as soon as we started down the hill, I knew I was in trouble. I was slipping and sliding all over the place, and I knew we had a lot more hiking to do before we got to the beach.

Just as despair was setting in, I looked into a tree on the side of the path and saw another broken flip flop, just like mine. I took solace in the fact that I was not the only idiot out there in flip flops. Then I looked to the other side of the path and saw, hanging from a tree, a fully functional flip flop! Apparently the owner of the broken flip flop decided to go on barefoot, and left the good flop behind. Not only was it the correct foot, but it was MY SIZE! The travel gods smiled on us again. I put on my new flop and we flew down the mountain to the beach.


The beach was breathtakingly beautiful, made all the more wonderful by the intense and harrowing hike we took to get there. We swam for hours then had a lovely lunch at one of the beach front restaurants.

Beautiful Bottle Beach


Thankfully, there was a taxi boat at Bottle Beach that could take us back to our beach resort so we didn't have to hike over the mountains to get home. I would honestly have paid any price to take that taxi boat, but since this is Thailand, it only cost me three bucks.


The next day was devastating---Abbie and Andy had to leave us. After spending a whole week together, they needed to head to Ko Samui to catch a flight back to Bangkok. Our week together was one of the best weeks of my entire life, and even now I miss them terribly. Mark and I consoled ourselves the best way we know how---we went to another beautiful island. We took the ferry over to Ko Tao and found a little beach bungalow to call our home. 
Stone steps over the koi pond leading to our bungalow. Rough life.
We thought we would spend two days there, and ended up staying for a week. It was the first time, in all of our travels, that we allowed ourselves to do that. But, if you've ever been to Ko Tao, you know why we couldn't leave. It is as close to heaven as I have ever experienced on this earth. `

The beach is lined with restaurants which have a unique seating arrangement. They flow from sit-down tables, to decks with pillow seats, to coffee tables and bean bag chairs right on the sand. Ko Tao is so relaxed it seems impossible to even sit up to eat a meal. I think we opted for a table once during our whole time there.



We spent a good deal of time at a beachfront bar called the Fishbowl, where we sat in oversized bean bag chairs and enjoyed the live music and fire dancers. In the evenings, a woman sells paper lanterns. The lanterns have a fire in the bottom and as it fills with hot air, it floats up into the sky like a hot air balloon. Travelers are encouraged to write a wish on the lantern before letting it fly.





One day, we rented a motor bike and rode around the entire island, which didn't take very long considering it is only one kilometer across and four kilometers from north to south. We drove to a beautiful beach called Hin Wong. We swam into the water and found the best snorkelling of the entire trip. The water was clear and calm, and the bay was the perfect size. Mark saw a school of 40,000 yellow-fin fishes swim by, and there was no shortage of colorful fish, coral, and anemones to look at.



On Saturday night, we headed back to the Fishbowl only to find out that it was Jam Night. The house musicians invited people to get up on stage to sing or play guitar. So obviously we jumped at the chance. Actually, the singer of the band called us out of the audience and said, "You guys are musicians, aren't you?" The same thing happend to us in Bali! We must have some kind of look about us. Regardless, we were ready for our time on the stage. We did a set of three songs, including one of Mark's originals, and it went over very well. So well, in fact, that later in the evening they asked us to get up and do a second set. We were happy to oblige, especially because they give free beer to Jam Night participants. The rest of the night  was a blast, with the exception of the run-in I had with a flaming jump rope (NEVER A GOOD IDEA!). Turns out Ko Tao is only chilled out during the day because it explodes in festivities at night. 


After a week in paradise, we were ready to move on, so we booked our tickets to Bangkok. Things have been pretty smooth for us over the last few weeks, but I have a feeling our travels are about to get a bit grittier as we head north. As always, we're looking forward to the next adventure that comes our way.

Sunday, March 18, 2012

Island of the Gods: Bali, Indonesia



The concept of reincarnation is a central belief to many eastern religions. The soul makes its journey through life, tangling with the vices and virtues of the physical world before crossing over into the spirit realm for a time, eventually to be reborn, hopefully a bit wiser than before. The earth, at least in many Asian cultures, is kind of like a nightclub with a revolving door policy when it comes to existence. “Stamp your hand for re-entry”.


In Hinduism, each soul hopes to be reborn into a slightly higher caste, while Buddhist reincarnation has the eventual goal of achieving a state of enlightenment or “Nirvana” (Smells Like Clean Spirit). If you don’t feel like you’re making much progress on the path to total consciousness, fear not. It’s a slow process. It took Siddhartha 500 lifetimes of trying before he figured it all out and became the first Buddha.





On the island of Bali, all of these sundry beliefs come crashing together in an explosive cacophony of sights, sounds, smells and tastes. To the Balinese, the realm of the gods is not some distant, metaphysical place. Body and spirit are all part of the same continuum. The spirit world is very much present in everyday life and must be treated accordingly.


Flying to the island of Bali at night is a bit unsettling. Outside the plane window, the inky darkness seems to stretch on forever over the Indian Ocean. With no landmarks or lights to guide you, the journey takes on the feeling of suspended animation; constantly traveling but never moving. The low-pitched drone of the engines, dim cabin lights and the sleepy, half-closed eyes of the passengers around you make the plane a floating limbo, an airfoil womb speeding you towards tropical rebirth.

Slowly, in the distance, faint lights appear out of the blackness. As the plane descends towards Bali, the lights get brighter and lower on the horizon until it seems impossible that the plane won’t crash into the waves below. At the last second, the runway appears beneath the plane and the reassuring squeal of rubber on the tarmac welcomes you to this new world, Bali, the island of the Gods.

Molly and I got off the plane in the capital city of Denpasar and were immediately greeted by ringing chimes, the thick smell of incense and signs bearing skull and crossbones. Drug smuggling is taken VERY seriously in Bali. For those fool-hearty enough to attempt it, the Indonesian government is more than happy to arrange a quicker turn-around for reincarnation than most people would desire.

We made for the beach resort of Kuta, just a twenty minute cab ride from the airport. When we found accommodations we quickly realized that we had moved into a higher echelon of traveling than we were used to. Whereas in Sydney, we had to shell out $55 for two dorm beds in a bug-infested hellhole in the red light district, complete with transvestite prostitutes and (even worse) basic cable, here in Bali we could live like kings. Twenty bucks bought us an air-conditioned suite in a Balinese pagoda called the New Arena with a private bathroom and a balcony overlooking a horizon pool with a swim up bar. Truly the travel gods were smiling on us.

Wandering through the streets of Kuta, you realize just how present the gods are to the Balinese. While Indonesia is the most populated Muslim country in the world but it is not made up of a single, unified people. The country encompasses more than 17,500 islands scattered across the Indian Ocean. Many of those islands have their own language, customs, and culture. The island of Bali is predominantly Hindu, with a few Buddhists thrown in for color. According to Hindu beliefs, gods, demons, and lesser deities are everywhere. Each home, business, and crossroad, not to mention the  sacred trees and rocks, has a shrine to a protector deity or ancestor that must be appeased.


These gods are made happy by a sacred offering called canang. The canang consists of several parts. It is usually given in an intricately woven palm leaf that symbolizes the purity of the offering. Different colored flowers are placed in each palm leaf, and each flower represents a different deity; blue for Vishnu, red for Brahma, white for Isvara and so on. After the flowers, devotees will light several sticks of incense and include a few other “treats” for the gods. As far as I can tell, Hindu gods love cigarettes, Mentos and Ritz crackers. There are canangs literally everywhere you look. They are placed in front of restaurants, on the dashboard of taxis, and even in the middle of busy intersections. More than once I got a nasty burn from walking into a pack of flaming incense sticks.



The morning of our first full day I rented a surfboard and headed down to Kuta Beach. On the way, it is all you can do to avoid the gauntlet of hawkers selling everything from massages to surfboards to counterfeit NBA jerseys. “Hey boss! Yes, taxi, motorbike, t-shirt? Yes, boss, yes?”


The waves at Kuta Beach are spectacular. They are beautiful--- gentle swells about 6 feet high with smooth, even breaks and long workable rides. The water is warm so you don’t need a wetsuit. I spent most of the day bobbing up and down catching a wave here and there, just happy to be alive.

Kuta Beach

The next day, we drove to the town of Ubud, higher up in the mountains. It was in this town that we truly found our love of Balinese cuisine. The food in Bali is as much of a mixture as the people who live here. The island has always been at the crossroads of many cultures and each of them has left a mark on the food. There are spice laden Chinese and Indian cooking techniques and halal Muslim influences that mingle with tropical fruits from the Pacific islands and, of course, the delicious bounty of the sea. While most restaurants can serve you up a tasty treat day or night, some of the best food is found right on the street from vendors who can give you some of the most authentic tastes of real Balinese food. We found a nice restaurant by a rice paddy where we relaxed with cold beer and hot curry. Later, on the street we picked up some delicious soup called “Bak so” (meatball) and satay, which is basically skewered meat marinated in herbs, spices and coconut milk then grilled on a barbecue.





After feasting, we took a walk down to the monkey forest near our hotel. Animals are highly respected in Hinduism, with many species figuring prominently into myths and legends. Monkeys are especially respected for their loyalty and intelligence, and for helping mankind in his eternal struggle against evil. The monkey forest in Ubud is a giant shrine to these simian allies. There are stone temples, statues and bridges that snake their way through a huge forest filled with chattering troops of monkeys. At the entrance, women sell bananas to any tourist foolish enough to want to feed the little critters. Here’s a tip, if you go to the monkey forest DO NOT BRING BANANAS! The monkeys go ape-shit. They jump up on you, rifle through your pockets and basically mug you for any fruit you might have. We saw one tourist covered with about six or seven of those furry little bandits, climbing though his hair and opening his backpack looking for booty. Thievery aside, the forest was beautiful. Amazing stone masonry seemed to grow right out of the earth and intertwine harmoniously with graceful trees and clinging vines. Also, the baby monkeys are adorable.

 




Beyond the monkey forest lay miles and miles of jungles and rice paddies broken up by a small village here and there. Molly and I spent the afternoon walking along narrow paths that lead us through the fields. Outside their shops, wood carvers sat in the shade chiseling intricate masks and statues of all shapes and sizes. Many times we got lost and had to ask for directions, getting by with sign language and a few butchered words in Indonesian. When we got thirsty, we would simply stop at the nearest coconut tree where a local would shimmy to the top and cut us down a tasty treat--- Balinese vending machines.




 We arose the next morning and had one of the most quintessential Bali adventures--- Motor-biking around the island. It cost a whopping four dollars to rent a scooter for the day and with gas being less than ¼ of the price in New Zealand, we could afford to go anywhere we wanted. Traffic laws in Bali are more like guidelines than actual rules. Thousands of scooters jockey for position as they dart to and fro. Lanes are mere suggestions as drivers pass each other on blind corners and kamikaze motorcycles careen the wrong way down the street or up onto the sidewalk to weave through traffic. There is an old saying that there are no atheists in a foxhole, and the same can be said of people driving on the roads of Bali. Fortunately, early in the trip, a holy woman blessed us with holy water and rice while placing a canang on the front of our scooter for protection.

We drove higher up into the hills and traffic thinned out. All around us, terraced rice paddies had been carved out of the mountains, tracing the topography of the land like delicate stairways to heaven. We stopped at a little coffee plantation and decided to sample the local fare. The waitress brought us coffee, ginger tea, lemon tea, ginseng coffee and Balinese hot chocolate while we picked mandarins right off the trees and munched away. The little man who lead us around told us about all of the different plants that grew on the plantation before offering us the “special” mongoose coffee.




We took the bike to the top of Mount Batur. The road is breathtakingly beautiful as it traces the edge of the crater of a huge volcano. We stopped at a roadside dive and went in for lunch. The place was packed with people, none of whom were tourists, which is always a good sign. They only served one dish, which is an even better sign. That dish was deep fried fish with chili sauce that the locals were literally pulling off the bone like a school of piranhas. That was the best sign.

We sat down and asked how much it cost for lunch. They waiter and cook chattered away at each other for a few minutes after we asked. That’s never good because you know that they are trying to figure out how much they can rip you off over the local price. Fortunately the “rip off tourist price” that they came up with was two dollars. Okay, I’ll pay. It was the best food we had on the island.


After lunch we snaked our way down the volcano to Besakih, the largest temple complex on Bali. Hindu temples are set up very differently than churches. In Judeo-Christian-Islamic religions there is only one god so their holy places are all set up around a central altar and everyone worships there together. Hindu’s have many gods, deities, and castes so their temples are set up accordingly. Besakih is like a miniature city spread over dozens of acres. Thousands of tiny shrines and altars are set up in courtyards all over the complex. The higher the ground that the shine occupies, the greater the status of the deity with the most revered commanding a position high above the rest of the complex. We climbed all the way to the top and rested  against the walls of a temple as we looked back down over the green hills that rolled towards the sea. 



That night we attended a dance performance. The text was taken from the Hindu epic Ramayana. It is the story of Rama, his wife, and his servant. Written by the Indian poet Valmiki around the 5th century BC, Ramayana and is much like the Greek poem “The Odyssey” in scope, and it is one of the great epics of early Indian literature. The performance itself was mesmerizing. The “orchestra” was made up of more than one hundred Balinese men seated in a circle around a pillar of flames. Throughout the dance they would sing and chant in unison emphasizing a strange syncopated chittering sound which created a trance-like state for both the performers and the audience. The dancers themselves moved with the slow fluidity of a dream. It was truly remarkable.






The next morning we took a shuttle to the village of Padangbai. Renowned for its snorkeling, Padangbai is a sleepy little town that has amazing seafood and an abundance of temples. We arrived on a Hindu holiday and were greeted by thousands of worshipers gathering on the streets, beaches, and cliff-top temples outside of town. Most of the women carried offerings of fruit and incense balanced on their heads while they weaved through the vendors who crowded the streets selling everything from satay to cell phones. I could not help but laugh when a child walked by holding a cartoon baby Krisna balloon. He’s like a little baby Jesus, but BLUE! We spent a day snorkeling at the Blue Lagoon just outside of town before heading back to Kuta.




We had been in Bali for over a week and we had yet to find the perfect beach. Kuta Beach had great waves and a party atmosphere but it was very crowded and a little dirty. We needed tropical seclusion and we needed it IMMEDIATELY. Again, we hopped on a motor bike and, with a quick prayer to the gods of the road, we zoomed off to the Bukit Peninsula. This tiny strip of land jutting off of the southern coast of Bali is home to some of the best surf breaks in the world. Waves rolling in from the Indian Ocean smash up against giant volcanic sea cliffs creating some epic swells. Surprisingly, this part of the island is sparsely inhabited. We drove for hours through dense jungles and up steep hills overlooking the gorgeous cerulean water. If you are traveling to Bali, do yourself a favor and spend a few days on the Bukit Peninsula. I highly recommend the beaches around Padang Padang. Just go and get lost. It is inevitable that you will end up on some of the most amazing beaches in the world. Molly and I turned down an unmarked gravel road and ended up on a beach in the village of Bingin that defies description.




Bali is known as the Island of the Gods for good reason. Traveling around this amazing place, you cannot help but feel the power of the divine. The air around you is thick with the smell of incense and the sound of prayers on the wind. Forces of nature here are larger than life. The tropical sun can gently warm your body or burn you to a crisp in minutes. The ocean is calm and tranquil at one moment and a roiling tempest the next. Images of gods and demons guard every home and stand tall alongside the capitalist deities of Ronald McDonald and Colonel Sanders. The delicious food here warms you to your very soul and the presence of god can be felt in the warm smile of everyone you meet. It is my sincere prayer that we can all meet up and share a drink in Bali in this life or the next.