Finding Nemo

We have a total of just over 3 weeks at Bingin which becomes two then one and before we know it its our last night in our little ‘Villa’. The morning arrives and with teary goodbyes our procession of bags and porters ascend the cliffs to Ketut our driver. We are headed for Tamarind a resort on Nusa Lembongan, a smallish island south of Bali for some more SURF and snorkeling. Ketut takes us to Sanur our departure point to the island, its hot, confusing and crazy busy. After so many weeks of living somewhere permanent it’s a bit of a shock to be in ‘Ops Mode’ again, Nicky sits on the pile of bags and surfboards and with a resigned look on his face says “Dad I don’t know if I want to be doing this”.

We are pounced on by 5 touts offering various options on reaching our island when completely to our surprise we see a man approaching waving a placard with CRAIG KILLEEN written on. Rescued we follow him down the beach and there purring in the silky sea is our ‘ride’, a super sexy fast looking craft with Tamarind written on the side. Powerful engines fire up and we are soon pounding through deep blue sea towards our destination.

The island feel reaches out to us, reggae music wafts across the water and Blackie the resort owner and his smily staff are all waiting thigh deep in the breakers to carry our bags and boards onto the beach and into our new home,. The resort consists of five bungalows and a pool bar area right on the water and is empty other than a pretty Dutch Girl who immediately becomes part of our family (much to Bills delight). I think she is super relieved that we have arrived as this is a small island with nothing other than a few resorts, bars and warungs.

First things first, I set off down the road to the village to find a scooter when Ketut drives up, “want a ride to town” he says, “no thanks” I reply “I want to rent a scooter’. “You can rent mine if you can drop me back at work first”. I ask for paperwork, he laughs and says just return it when you have finished, you can leave the keys with anyone here if I am not around.

Blackie organizes his cousin Made to take us snorkeling on his fishing boat which is a brightly colored trimarang. Made is a cheerful fellow flashing big gums and buckteeth. We hug the coast passing forests, cliffs and bays, seaweed farming is the main source of income and the bays are laced with seaweed farms consisting of underwater netting fences from which the seaweed is harvested.

We arrive at our first dive spot called Gamut Bay and a new world is discovered. All 5 of us go under and come up screaming spontaneously with delight. We feel like we are in inside Finding Nemo – in an Imax theatre with surround sound. A feast of colors, forests of coral, bright sand and deep blue crevasses open up. We found Dory ( just keep swimming , just keep swimming) but Nemo was nowhere to be found. Nicky and I (Lou) decided all we were missing was the turtles saying “woooowwwww this is incredible hurry up guys surfs up !!!!” Nicky, Bill and Lou feed the fish with bread and there is underwater giggling going on as swarms of fish nibble our fingers. They all have there own personality depending on their colors and the coral they hang out in.

There are three surfing options near us - Playground, Shipwreck and aptly named Lacerations. Playground is a 400 m paddle away from our resort, through anchored boats and buoys and becomes our wave of choice. It’s a user friendly left and right break that works for both Bill and I, what better than to have your son paddling out with you in time to watch the sun rise?

This was probably the best surfing overall, like the name suggests playground is less hardcore and I can feel more like a big fish in a small pond. The most outstanding memory of the trip for me has got to be paddling out as the sun rises each morning and then catching wave after glassy wave but more than just a wave experiencing the sensation of flying over crystal clear water and seeing every detail of the magnificent world below!

Zen and the Art of Surfing

I started surfing relatively late in life, I had always dreamt about it and woke up on my fortieth birthday thinking that if I don't start now I am gong to have to surf in another life, I decided to make it this one and bought a surfboard. For the last few years I have been surfing on and off, probably more off than on. Surfing in the Cape is challenging, its mostly freezing cold especially after a good blow from the Cape Doctor, the wind is often onshore mushing up the surf and then there are flat days. Good days of swell coinciding with my being in town and having time on my hands have been fairly few and far between.

Every surfers dream is to have a month or more on an island with good waves, warm water and lots of time. So here we are in Bali certainly one of the best surfing venues in the world living that dream.

Not all waves are the same, in fact there are as many different waves as there are surfing spots in the world and each one presents its own challenges. Further each wave is affected by the tide, swell and wind direction, the period between waves and of course swell size. I realize very quickly that the breaks around Bingin where we are based are not for beginners by any means and almost all of them (other than Dreamland) break onto very shallow reef.

The Bali tattoo is evident everywhere, surfers walking around nursing nasty scrapes and gashes across backs, arms, legs, faces, heads. The standard of surfing is high and unlike a friendly easy break like Muizenberg or Big Bay the points are crowded, surfers are from all over the world and its each man for themselves -you snooze you lose.

I am here to learn so sit out at the backline and observe the good surfers.

Firstly you need to be really fit to paddle into waves and catch them and even more so to paddle out after catching them pushing under endless foamies. I realize I am paddling all over the place backwards and forwards, in and out wasting energy, often being caught by the big sets. I am also allowing others surfers to hustle into position past me.

The good guys don't, they paddle out and take a key position refusing to allow other surfers to hustle them out of it. They have patience and don't waste energy chasing after smaller waves and consequently are ready when the big set arrives. More though they seem to intuitively know where that position is and when the big set is coming. When it does they choose their wave and then have the confidence to commit 100% and squeeze all the juice out of it.

I decide to practice this philosophy in business and have a feeling that by doing this I will have a lot more time for surfing.

I make some surfing buddies, Eric the local surfboard hire man from Dreamland is a gem that shows me around and we shared a few Bintangs on the beach with the local boys. I meet a few South Africans and lots of Europeans; of course there are loads of Australians but its weird that Aussie - South African rivalry extends to surfing as well, so not many mates there. Special thanks to Andre a Brazilian now based in France who surfs all over the world. One morning he pulls me out of my comfort zone and we go out at Uluwatu.

This feels like the big time, the cliffs are lined with professional photographers, surf shops; look out points, bronzed surfers and striking woman.The paddle out is tricky with currents, reef, sets and surfers to avoid, There are three main breaks to choose from, the one we start at is called Peak and I catch my first wave which is snapped by one of the photographers (attached), the other breaks are called temple and railway tracks aptly named because it works at low over a shallow reef and you need to to go like a steam train to make it.

Another day when its really flat everywhere else we venture out at a place called Green Ball which is a magnificent bay at the bottom of 300 steps. We are the only ones out that day and I soon realize why, its a lot bigger and more powerful than it looks from the cliffs and with spring lows rapidly approaching when the wave sucks up the reef is knee height. There is something pioneering about surfing a new place for the first time, you are on your own and need to rely on your own observations and common sense.

I surf most days over 6 weeks and by the time we leave I am feeling fit and a little more confident in what I am doing (ready for Elands!!!). Yes there are crowds which can be a little frustrating but I am getting my fair share of waves. There are also days when I find secret places with only one or two other surfers, we sit out there in the early morning a couple of hundred meters from the shore as the sun rises enjoying each others companionable silence. Surrounded by nature one lives in the present, there is nothing else, horizons are limitless, you move with the ocean and in that movement you can feel the energy of the whole universe, that is Zen.

Bingin - Beach Living on the Cliffs

We wake early to make the journey to our new home and on the way stop to stock up on provisions. We have been eating out forever and the idea of making some home style food is very appealing. A simple domestic chore like grocery shopping in a foreign country is fun, trying to figure out labels and making sure you are buying toothpaste and not bum cream. Makes one feel like a local.

Another stop is Kuta, a busy seaside town and surfing Mecca to find a surfboard for William. I hook up with a local board rental guy who takes me on a tour of all the surf shops, second hand boards are a rip off in this town but as luck would have it I stop at a book shop and end up buying the owners board for a song, he is broke and desperate. Its a classic quicksilver gun, really cool and one to take back for a big day at Elands.

We arrive at the top of the cliffs laden with boxes, bags and boards. No shortage of labour though and we are soon a long procession with Made, Ketut, Wayan etc as porters carrying our assortment of bundles down the stairs. There are 130 big steps down the cliff to our Villa and over the next month we become fit going up and down.

After nearly 2 months on the go it feels good to unpack and call this home, its an intimate unusual set up, being at the base of a cliff and the end of the line so to speak, the only people around are resident and so within no time at all everyone is a familiar face. From day one we feel at home, secure to leave the house unlocked and allow boys to wonder off for hours unsupervised.

The break directly in front of our Villa is a very technical, hollow left that breaks onto shallow reef at low tide but at mid to high tide it becomes a friendly soft wave perfect for the boys to learn on.The first day out I slip and smash our beautiful new camera on the rocks so from now on we are relying on friends photos to illustrate the story further. Bummer but we are philosophical it could have heads connecting reef, we are insured and will buy a new one in Singapore.

To the right of Bingin and a 15 minute walk at low tide is Dreamland which has an amazing left working best at low tide, a fast and hollow wall that gets the adrenalin pumping. For some reason its often empty and this turns out to be my favorite wave. To the left and a 500m paddle is Impossibles and just past that Padang Padang. Around the corner and a 10 minute scooter ride is Uluwata, all world class surf breaks. William and Nicky were learning to get their head around the surf, reef and beach and it was so fabulous to watch how they progressed - no school work in sight.

Janine and Lawrence our Canadian friends arrive a few days later. Janine chose Kellys Warung a simple room with a share bathroom over the beach (they didnt get much sleep as the pounding surf literally broke on the rocks below). It was so fun to have them join us, we have spent a lot of time together in many different countries and unusual situations. Janine and I climbed the dreaded steps 3 times a week for yoga at Temple Lodge (stunning classical Hatha yoga with Christiana as a fabulous teacher)

The time with the Canadians went so fast and on our last night we had dinner at Temple Lodge with the owners Mario and Christiana (both keen Elands aficionados, Janine and Lawrence as well as Cameron an American friend whom we had met at Elands in South Africa - what are the chances?

We morph into Bingin life and get to know the locals as well as an interesting array of people from around the world who pass pleasantly through our lives. I am happy to sit around for hours doing nothing just shooting the breeze as they say, understanding how other people live and think. South Africa shrinks into perspective, we have'nt read a paper or listened to news for months and whilst we love our home and wouldn't swap it, its just another country like so many others around the world.

We each take turns shopping and cooking, simple food with the limited availability on the peninsula. Louise makes the odd trip for a treat to the Gourmet Garage a superb foodie store which supplies the hotels. We also have many fine fish barbeques at Didis our French neighbour, whatever the days catch - simple, fresh and delicious.

As the sun sets each evening we take the few steps down to the beach and pop open a quart of Bintang. The little rocky beach fills with locals, surfers, animals, fisherman, children and the scent of incense from the newly charged Hindu offerings. The light is magnificent, the air is still and a peaceful silence descends with the setting sun.

Paradise Found

Ketut arranged a stop over in Nusa Dua (a really touristy part of Bali) we checked in for 2 nights and began the search again.

The place in Nusa Dua is clean and respectable but the owner a Dutch guy is vile, he has 2 monkeys in a small cage, they have no food or water and they pace up and down on their pole all day, when I asked him why he never let them out, he said they were 2 vicious and naughty, - I wonder why?????, we were all tempted to let them free, the only thing stopping us is that they might attack us, we feed them fresh fruit and peanuts and they were very jittery, shame poor things there was also a bird – Indian Mynah who spoke in Dutch and made these shrill noises, Thank God we weren’t there for the holidays it was depressing.

We had had a week of limbo and from phoning around it seemed that what we were looking for was becoming impossible to find as season approached and it way beyond our budget. Ketut rented us his taxi and Craig and I set off again for the elusive dream. We had decided that Uluwatu the little nipple on the south of Bali is where we were headed and let the universe guide us. We took a few side roads and then ended up at this shop where we hopped out to ask if they knew of Villas for rent. We were directed vaguely through a field with beautiful cows and clinking bells and arrived at the top and saw a sign saying temple lodge and Marios left. (My chiropractor had told me about Mario and so we took it as a good omen and universal one too) We followed the signs and bumped in to Christiana, Mario’s wife who was on her way to the beach. We chatted – she didn’t remember Patrick the chiropractor- (it turns out she had been in SA at the time he stayed there, they are Italians who lived in Cape Town for 15 years) She directed us in the other direction for a villa and we eventually ended up at the car park for Bingin Beach.

We chatted to the locals who sent us Made (2nd child). Made was a skinny gorgeous tiny Balinese woman who whisked us through a labyrinth of paths down a steep cliff to a village of little warungs and beach villa’s (very simple, reminded us of what Clifton might have been like 50 years ago.

Craig was sooooo excited when we arrived at the cottage. It has 2 bedrooms upstairs with 2 bathrooms, a balcony with a view over the surf break and downstairs a simple kitchen (yes), a lovely chill out lounge with built in sofa with lots of cushions and our own little garden. It was exactly what we had been looking for.

Our Neighbour is a Frenchman married to a local with 2 little villas he rents out, a intimate little bar, sexy French music and a deck over the beach. We discover later that he makes the best fish barbecue ever.

We negotiate an excellent rate on a long rental and speed off home to tell the boys to pack up, we have found our Villa on the beach.

Moving to Medewi ........ and Back

We opt to call our driver Ketut to take us out to Medewi and pack up ready for the big move. There are no internet cafes in Medewi and so Craig has to stop somewhere on the way and try to connect his modem onto a local network which proves really tough and takes most of the morning of driving around, wasting time with Bali geeks, without Ketut it would have been impossible. Eventually Craig buys another modem, get it configured and off we go.

Next stop is provisions, Ketut who is showing incredible patience stops at Hardy’s, a local version of Shoprite. We have fun working out all the provisions needed for our trip with our taximan in tow pushing the trolley. Whilst eating lunch at a Warung Nicky discovers wonderland, a kids play emporium with a water slide – this child has the largest capacity for fun fun fun, we go and watch him hanging with the locals flying down the water slide.

We arrive at our new house a few hours later, the owner is nowhere to be found and has left us with 2 girls and a young man, none of who can speak a word of English. The girls are super shy, they giggle and look confused every time we try to communicate.

Craig organizes a scooter and promptly looses the paper work for the licence and then discovers even more frustratingly that there is no signal so no internet and the nearest internet café and any form of civilization is 40 minutes drive away.

That night the girls cook us dinner which is painfull. a really weird combination of sausages (eewww imagine whats in them), rice, prawns? Ugly looking sausages at that and salad with an instant Bali salad dressing. The owner still hasn’t arrived, in fact he never does so its really hard to try and make these girls understand that we want them to leave us alone to do our own thing.

Early next morning I (Craig) head for the break, which is what I came for right? Over night the swell has arrived and its humongous, I stand around nervously in the early morning light trying to figure the sets out and plan a route to paddle out. I watch 4 gnarly Aussies paddle out and they get pounded, eventually I follow a young local trying my hardest to keep up with him and manage to get out past the backline. I am now out and to be honest petrified, the waves are mountains and the surfers are unfriendly and all look like pro’s. My first wave is a disaster, I realize too late someone is already up and riding and drop in on a Frenchman, we collide and my skeg gashes his head. Whilst all this is going on the set of the day arrives and we are caught in front and I am pounded by wave after relentless wave. An hour later I make it back to the beach after cutting my leg open on jagged coral.

This is not working out too well, still we make the most of it, our surfer guide Harris takes Bill out at too more friendly break and he has his first surfing lesson. There is not much else to do but our Villa has a glorious pool and so Lou and the boys hang out there.

Next morning early I decide I have to get over this fear and go back out. Harris is with me this time and shows me the best way to get out to the backline, the swell is if anything bigger and I am thinking what the hell am I doing here. To non surfers the way it works is that the surfer closest to the point where the wave is breaking has the right of way and it’s a continual game jockeying for position. Harris takes me far out and I am thinking why so far when this set arrives blocking out the horizon, I look around and realize I am in position and everyone is watching me. Harris is shouting paddle paddle and proving beyond doubt that a males pride is far stronger than his sense of self preservation I paddle.

Next second I am up and dropping down the biggest wave I have ever caught….... ever.
I hit the bottom at speed, make the turn and settle into the wave. Medewi is regarded as the longest left in Bali and I am riding it, this smooth green wall of water that goes on and on for ever. I eventually kick out what seems like a kilometer away and begin the long paddle back out to the point with adrenalin pumping, grinning like a fool to big cheers from Harris. More waves follow and I think that this is all worth it.

Surf and sweeping vistas aside we last another two days and decide this is not for us. (Well lets face it Craig is getting a surf but with no internet connection he is a grumpy bear and not such fun for us) also we are in the middle of nowhere, the only way I (Lou) is going to get any company is to paddle out to the backline and make friends with Aussie surfers and as you all know me well, know I am more a yoga class, massage and glass of wine kind of girl.

We sms Ketut who arrives promptly the next morning to save the day, he negotiates a payoff to the scooter owner for losing the licence, a payoff for our surf coach Harris (what a gem) who we had booked to spend a week with Bill, payoff for the board and bootie rental and finally explain and cut a deal for the accommodation which has been booked for another week. Thank god for Ketut as he had to do the maths with the staff who had borrowed money from us to pay for the electricity……..it was all very complicated. But it was such a relief to leave, it was a wired place and the Aussie owner, well he was probably getting pissed somewhere and we found out he hadn’t paid his staff for 2 months (thank god we left them a tip too)

Anyway we are finally packed and hightail it out of there back to civilization.

Mission to find Paradise

Whilst Ubud is a dreamy utopia we are here to surf and need to find our patch of beach to spend the next month. We decide to hire a car and take a day exploring the island looking for Craig’s elusive dream, a place where he can start his day surfing and end his day surfing.

Thank God we have Lawrence as navigator extraordinaire, Craig as driver and Lou as the final say. The poor kids are dragged along for good measure (they could have stayed and swam and had a good day poor critters)

Driving a car for the first time in Asia is going to be a new challenge and I approach it with a good deal of respect. The roads are narrow, potholed and crammed with people, dogs, kids, scooters, trucks and cars. We set of and surprisingly find our way to Uluwatu the grand and famous surf venue featured in a 1000 surf magazines. The roads are narrow and windy and there is little or no signage so most of the time we haven’t a clue where we are. We wander down little severely potholed roads that take ages to negotiate, stopping frequently to receive vague advice from well meaning locals. Time is pushing, its now already 1pm and we are nowhere closer to finding ‘that for which we seek’.

We read in the book that there is a fantastic surf spot called Medewi, its right up the West coast about 140km away. We think okay lets just skip all this and head out to the middle of nowhere. First though we have to fight our way through lunch time traffic, the centre of the city, past the airport and onto the coastal road. We discover that there is no highway, the first 80km’s consist of built up towns crammed with dogs, kids, footballs, scooters, the odd funeral procession, you know just your normal island life…….on the streets.

Its 4.30 when we arrive in Medewi which is literally just a surf spot with 2 basic resorts and a few warangs (general dealers). Rural to the extreme with black volcanic sand and a wave that makes Craig tingle to the toes. As always the Gods send us a guide, this ones name is Harris, a charming young surfer, facilitator and translator. He shows me the break which is outstanding with the promise of big swells arriving in the coming days and then says he knows of a good place 300m (read 3km) down the road. So we jump in our car and chase his scooter through friendly little villages with people greeting us from all sides. Suddenly a tiny little child darts outs of nowhere and appears smack bang in the middle of the track literally under my wheels. I slam on brakes and stop with my bumper inches from this smiling little cutie pie. Our aching nerves!

We arrive at the Villa which belongs to some Aussie guy who checked out of mainstream and now has 2 suites to rent and spends his days surfing and drinking (his complexion is ruddy to the extreme). He is keen to have us, but we really envisioned our own villa with a kitchen as I am desperate to cook without MSG (trying to keep the itching at bay). He says no problem we can use his kitchen. Not ideal and we are not sure but the surf is beckoning Craig, our suite is large and comfortable with exquisite uninterrupted views over a rim flow pool, rice paddies and onto the ocean without a single building in sight.

We are under time pressure, its past 5pm we have been driving since early in the morning and we still face a four hour journey back to Ubud. It’s an all or nothing kind of decision so we commit to the Villa and start our return journey.

The trip back is worse in the dark, the road is full of trucks carrying containers to the city. In India we had experienced a different type of driving, let’s call it ‘just in time’ driving, similar rules apply here. There are no double lanes and very few straight sections. In order to overtake you have to face oncoming traffic up close and in your face. Between you, the truck you are overtaking, the dogs, scooters all around and the oncoming traffic everyone gives a little and somehow you slip back into your lane just in time. With trucks crawling along at a snails pace I was forced to start driving like a local or we would have taken all night!

We made it back late that night, the car was intact but our nerves were in tatters. I can say with a fair amount of confidence that I am now qualified to drive anywhere.

Ubud UOOOOOOOMMMMMMMMM

Setting off early in the morning the sun makes its presence felt through millions of sparkles reflecting off dewy leaves. Climbing aboard my newly rented scooter and wobbling down our bumpy driveway I enter the country lane and weave through dogs sprawled in the road oblivious to my concentration. Young men strut fussing over their prize roosters recovering from the previous night’s cockfighting. Different smells mark the progress, musty cow manure permeates the air, past lush green rice paddies ready for harvesting, laborers priming scarecrow cables to chase greedy birds. Turning left onto the main road I head down the dip into cool forested shady gloom, avoiding nasty potholes in the road I cross the river then full throttle and a burst of speed up the other side and into town. Villagers balancing fresh produce head to the market walking alongside children dressed in crisp white shirts for school. Streets rich with deeply Balinese architecture, thick green foliage, moss, pebbles, wood and glass. Smoky smell of incense permeates the air from ornate bamboo offering to the Hindu Gods. Trendy shops, Polo, Dolce, Gabana, Art Galleries meshed with local Bali life. Temples, monkeys, coconuts, warangs, scent of rough cut fresh timber, beautiful Bali girls on scooters. Left turn down the lane and Louise and I are at the Yoga barn ready to evolve……..“ like hey shew wow”, is not the phrase here, we are amongst the highly evolved beautiful people - more like “when I met the Dali Lama ………”

Ubud is our first stop in Bali and after Vietnam the Hindu influence is refreshing and very evident, its gentle presence setting the pace and mood. Our Canadian friends have organized a stylish introduction to Bali. Our home is exquisite and sets the mind buzzing once more on new ideas for creating living spaces back in SA. After the intense urbanization of the city of Saigon this oasis surrounded by fields and rural life is a treat. Our living spaces are open air, no concern for security but more for dealing with aesthetics and climate. On the first morning in the shower I reach down to grab my razor blade and instead almost grab a snake, who continues sliding over the rocks unperturbed. Frogs and geckos also share our space keeping the mosquitos at bay.

I have always seen images of rice paddies filled with water and people with pointy hats but now we are in the picture. One morning we walk along the thin ridges and examine a system perfected over the centuries, paddies separated by narrow hand packed clay ridges just wide enough to walk on, gravity fed channels for flooding the fields. We have eaten lots of rice throughout Asia and can’t seem to tire of it, its alkaline properties sooth the stomach.
Rice is the food of Gods and is offered everyday at each little temple, an offer first and then the day begins, I think it is such a fantastic way to start your day, little baskets with flowers, money, rice and sometimes sweets. I love watching their ritual, it is flowing, graceful and serene.

I get given the translation into English of the beautiful prayer they say every time they make an offering:

OFFERING TO GOD

My prayer
So deep in my heart
Is whispering to God
In the dancing smoke
Of the incense

My hopes
Are opening
In the fragrant flowers

My soul
Is cleansed
In the holy water

All together glorious is my offering

Ubud is a unique and special town, a good mix of local Balinese and foreigners from all corners of the Western World seeking an organic, intellectual, spiritual and unhurried kind of existence. It has something for everyone (except surf) and so we fly through our time here yogaring, eating out, eating in, talking laughing, shopping, playing with monkeys and absorbing this highly civilized piece of the world.

Singapore to Bali

We take an early morning flight from Ho Chi Min City’s shiny new airport to Singapore and then have a 5 hour layover before our flight to Bali. The boys love Singapore Airport, there is so much too do, they disappear into the games section, I go shopping and Craig goes online to do some
e-mailing. What he hasn’t done is reset his clock, a recipe for disaster. We have arranged a meeting place for us to collect him on the way to boarding but when they announce boarding for our flight Craig is nowhere to be found.

I think he must be at the gate which is a good half a kilometer away. We get there and NO CRAIG (I start to panic slightly and think typical, as he always finds something to do just as we are about to leave for anywhere)

I tell the kids to wait at the gate and I’ll go look for him and with 15 minutes to spare start running, can’t find him, run back to the gate have 5 minutes, plead with them to call him, they won’t, can’t give names, now I’m thinking we will all miss the flight and frustration isn’t even the word. Eventually they come up with a lost child scenario (the only way they can make a public announcement.)

I, in the meantime am engrossed in work thinking I have another hour to spare when Mr Killeen over the PA system penetrates into my subconscious and I start running. Now this is a big airport with signs estimating time needed to reach different sections. I have 2 minutes to cover a 20 minute walk. Somehow I make it and arrive as the gates are closing, slip through and see my pale faced family……am I in KAK. There is a stony silence aboard our lovely Singapore Airlines flights to Bali, the plane is empty so we spread out and descend into our own respective movies.
We have six weeks in Bali and our plan is to chill and get to know one little corner really well. We arrive at about 7pm and line up for passport control noting the prominent signs warning about the death penalty for drug trafficking. We draw cash - figure out the currency and stock up on tequila and wine at the duty free. We pass through customs unhindered and walk out into our newly adopted country. After the slickness of Singapore the difference is profound, we have arrived on a tropical island.

Lawrence and Janine had arranged a driver called Ketut to pick us up and whisk us to Ubud to join them. We search the assortment of signs amongst the enthusiastic Bali faces at arrivals but no Ketut. It is now 9.30 pm and the airport is thinning out rapidly, I wander off to find an internet café, print out the directions Lawrence has given, befriend a “taksi” driver and negotiate a fare for our 1 ½ hour trip up to the centre of the island. We introduce ourselves to the new driver and guess what his name is? KETUT - he laughs and says everyone in Bali is Ketut.

It seems all the names of children are the same, child number 1 Wayan and if a girl Ni wayan , child number 2 Made, child number 3 Nyoman and child number 4 Ketut, then if number 5 comes you start all over again.

Anyway our Ketut is a real gem chatting away about life and business in Bali and generally making us feel very relaxed. Made us laugh too, we were discussing interest rates and when we told him the interest rate in South Africa he said FUCK in his Balinese accent, it was so unexpected we burst out laughing. We decide he is going to be our man on the island and he proves to be invaluable over the next 6 weeks helping smooth over a few sticky situations, a real Mr Fixit!

The streets are dark and its almost midnight by the time we arrive in Ubud. We are staying on the outskirts of the town and spend some time tracking down our new home called the T house. We stop, leave the car and lurch down a lane and knock on a door several times unsure if we are at the correct house. Eventually we hear “who is it?’ and when we say the Killeen’s a huge shriek comes from inside, they weren’t expecting us till the next night. We had all mixed up dates but it was a great reunion, Lawrence started making Arak cocktails, a local rice wine brew and we knew we have made it to Bali.

Just Step off the pavement and walk

Kids are in heaven, after a few weeks of roughing it and being constantly on the move we are in a clean modern hotel, free internet, cable TV and room service. We left them to enjoy and head out to explore Ho Chi Min City (Saigon).

We had heard from a few people about the traffic in Saigon. The only way to cross is to just step of the pavement and walk, trusting all the drivers to flow around you. It is quite a thing to get your head around and I had thought about it a lot. Finally here Louise and I were at one of the busiest traffic circles in Saigon opposite the main city market and we had to get to the other side. Taking a deep breath we stepped of and walked……..like schools of fish the hundreds of scooters, motorbikes, and taxis flowed around us without missing a beat.

Our trip through Asia has been like this, no plan or agenda just step of the pavement and walk, often putting our lives in other people hands. We are coming to the end of the first half of our journey and are once again on the banks of the mighty and inexplicable Mekong River. From the northern most tip of Thailand near the Chinese border, through Laos, back into Thailand, through Cambodia and now close to the ocean in Vietnam we have been zig zagging the Mekong.

We had used every mode of transport imagineable - busses, scooters, boats, canoes, trains, bicycles, tuk tuks, elephants, pontoons, rafts and rickshaws. Traveling this way has its rewards, slow travel lets you appreciate where you are and gain an insight into the daily life of the locals. Your rhythm changes, distances become real again, you acquire a sense of discovery and adventure sharing your days, meals and boredom with people you would otherwise never meet. The humanity that moves about with bundles and children while the world of the aeroplane passes over their heads in every sense of the word. Slow travel is for us, but then I guess you have got to have the time.

What a great and pleasant surprise Ho Chi Min city turns out to be, feels like the Paris of SE Asia. We arrive at the market and after 2 seconds Craig is bored, anyway we end up in the food section and he is no longer bored - funny that. We sit down to Vietnamese spring rolls and a beer from one of the many stalls yumm, Craig’s in heaven and he could have stayed all afternoon but I dragged him off to look at all the groceries and delicious delicacies.

The food market is staggering and we realize that there is a whole new world to food in Vietnam. After spending so much time in little rural towns and villages we are back in foodie heaven. We start thinking about dinner and having seen lots of fresh seafood we decide to fetch the boys and hunt down some chilli crab. We walk back to the hotel, down-load, un-pack, freshen up and then get our concierge to flag down a “real” meter taxi to dinner. Bill is mortified as he is missing his Arsenal game to come and eat with us, shame poor deprived child!!

This restaurant comes highly recommended from an article given to us by the foodie of all time Irene and boy was it an incredible experience! The restaurant is packed, mostly with locals, which is a good sign but after a few minutes at the entrance we are shown to a table by our friendly waiter. There are 15 different kitchens surrounding a central courtyard with each kitchen preparing its own delicacy. A salad section, a barbecue section, a steam section, a soup section and so on and so on.

After being taken on an impromptu guided tour by our showman waiter through all the various kitchens we are flummoxed - how to decide when everything is so mouthwatering! We finally settled on a papaya salad – spicy (just for a change) a chicken mince meatball packed around a sugar cane stick- deep fried, a prawn toast/fritter and the piece de resistance our Crab steamed and stir fried in a Tamarind sauce - God it was sublime. Kids have salad and chicken – a few beers, a bottle of wine all bloody marvelous and happiness all round.

Back to the hotel to drop the kids and we decide to hit the town. It’s a Friday night and the city is busy, the streets are lined with bars, clubs, restaurants, massage parlors packed with people and noise. We settle on a corner bar and try and get a take on things, we are in the touristy part so there is lots of action. People on the make everywhere sex being the central theme- “love you long time one dollar”. Tomorrow we leave and are feeling sad, having caught a glimpse of the shade we want to see the sun. Vietnam we hope to see you again soon.

Flie Lice a Chika

One more bus ride to Saigon, Lou made sure it was the “top of the range”, not a double Decker (remember the Barf Bus) and no changing busses at the border.

A 4 hour bus ride out of Cambodia awaited us before reaching Saigon (Ho Chi Min City).

Cambodians can’t pronounce the R sound or use consonants at the ends of words so Fried Rice and Chicken becomes Flie Lice a Chika. Somewhere near the border with Vietnam we stop for lunch. I decide Flie Lice a Chika would be a safe bet and was I wrong!!! All of us felt squeamish as its plopped down in front of us, Bill got a sharp bone stuck in his cheek, I am busy scrapping all the chicken off and just gonna eat the rice, when Craig in true style casually asks, “do you think this is dog or snake”? the mental picture was too much to swallow, I heaved and almost vomited in my plate, tears flooded my eyes, and Craig laughed, oh my the thought of those poor mangy dogs, or even a snake eeeeewwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww.

Shortly thereafter we arrive at the border. Borders can be pretty intimidating places and this was no exception, first up this medical man, dressed in swine flu mode takes everyone’s temperature using this syringe looking device which he inserts into your ear. All forty people on the bus – one syringe, nice. Louise has fed Nicky a Myprodol in desperation half hour before the border because Nicky had been running a temperature and we can’t face a six week quarantine dining on local cuisine at the Cambodian border. Anyways we all pass the swine test and join the queue to go through passport control. Nicky is REALLY feeling fiiiiiine after the myprodol and fooling around big time, once again as the blonde baby of the bus he is getting the rock star treatment. Whilst we are all standing waiting to X ray the bags and obtain stamps he jumps the rows and is led of by the guards for a behind the scenes tour to watch all the bags being scanned. One more mention of snakes, Louise starts heaving, I feel bad and before we know it we are in Vietnam!

Once again we cross the Mekong, there are no bridges so our bus boards a ferry, I get out of the bus and watch Cambodia fade away. Whilst standing with the truckers and some locals this adorable little girl approaches selling bits and pieces. I buy some tiger balm and Wriggley’s and in exchange get a photo, our last memento from Cambodia.

We arrive in Saigon, Craig points to one taxi man and says okay you’re our guy. He was an extraordinary little creature with small teeth (like he never got his adult ones) and a round button mouth, a gruff voice- “where you going” he barks, we give him the name of a hotel we have chosen in mid range lonely planet, he assures us he is a meter taxi (which the book also tells you) and we squeeeeeeeze our bags into his Mazda.

Bill hops in the back and as he is moving across the seats the man slams the hatch and almost propels Bill into the front seat, I just couldn’t hold it the laughter was so good Bill and I had tears running down our face. Off we wiz across traffic in the middle of the road on the wrong side of the road, Vietnam is a city of motor bikes its incredible, like swimming through a shoal of fish.
Eventually the mad one screeches to a halt at the hotel we requested (which turns out later not be the one) Craig goes in and comes out $ 90– too expensive so then this strange creature now becomes animated and writes $25-30 on his hands and goes befok , he knows where to take us, before we could do anything he whizzes off the meter clicking away. In a land of crazy drivers we have picked the outer fringe, he moves over into oncoming traffic and just stays there, cars veering off all around. Finally he slams on brakes on the wrong side of the road and disappears with Craig into another hotel and he comes out gesticulating like mad, still too expensive for him – yeah right and the meter seems to be speeding up!

Anyway we end up at this cool clean oasis exactly 30m from where we got off the bus, Craig negotiates a good deal for 2 rooms while I draw local money to pay the rally driver. I am about to walk into the hotel with “The Driver” to pay (always better when hotel staff are around and he whips it out my hand and gives me change, all the locals are laughing and I know I’m being ripped so I walk into the hotel to find I’ve paid $28 when it should have been around $4.

Anyway we all agreed that it was a fabulous entertaining ride and worth the money, Nicky has the action down pat, and if we need some cheering he does a rendition of the mad taxi driver and we all fall about. Time to explore Saigon!

Phnom Penh

With a banging on the door all hell breaks loose the next morning. The night before I had switched our cheap Chinese alarm off instead of on. Our pick up is outside pacing, he still has three more collections before getting us to the main bus station to catch our 7am, “super deluxe AC” to Phnom Penh.

Ten minutes later with vast amounts of luggage and sleepy children in tow we board the pick up which is a rickety old relic without windows. Louise and I have a good chuckle as we watch the horrified expressions of some Australians as we arrive to pick them up, “Hiya mate is this bus taking us to Vietnam”?

Another bus another journey, except now I’m (Lou) having an allergic reaction which started in Siem Riep in a small way just my arms were itchy, on the bus ride I was having an internal dialogue about what could be wrong, I would get these hot flashes somewhere on my body followed by intense itchiness, it would move all around, it was freaky.

By the time we get off the bus at Phnom Penh and the taxi drivers all attacked us I was ready to blow, which I eventually did, I mean come on they can see I’m with Craig and the boys and we are walking towards a tuk tuk , they still come into your face and say “madam tuk tuk , come with me!”

“CAN’T you see I’m with my husband and I have a tuk tuk, back (f>>K) off for god sake!” I yelled at them, Nicky told me later that they all were smiling and laughing at the mad woman ! Oh well! It's good to release some anger sometimes :)!

Craig decided to follow the 3 South African girls (mmm wonder why) who were staying in a budget guest house, oh help me god, so we had a look I thought, please no, we tried a few others which were just tooo expensive, said ok went back, jeeez Louise, it was horrid at R120 a night for all of us a dormitory room 4 single beds, lets just say it wasn’t the highlight of our trip. (…..It was great, clean rooms, cheap beer and food, lots of interesting travelers and we have to do at least one backpacker joint on the trip, part of the experience!)

Not to mention the itchiness was getting progressively worse and eventually I surrendered to the fantastic orgasmic scratching with my hairbrush, out of control I was doing myself serious harm, even the strong antihistamines Murray prescribed were doing nothing, I can only think it’s the MSG which Asians use in everything and I mean everything. The second night after nearly exfoliating my skin off, we stopped at a pharmacy and he said allergy (duh) Erticaria? Take these, cortisone, it did help but it took a while for it to go completely but by that stage would have taken anything to stop the itching, my god it’s terrible, and the worse thing is, msg is their salt.

Given Cambodia’s magnificent civilized past its recent history is horrific, 25-30% of their population were tortured, beaten and massacred just 30 years ago, their only crime being that they were educated, Pol Phot’s grand plan to develop an Agrarian utopia of subservient peasants

We decided to explore Phnom Penh and went to the war Museum, oh my god, thank goodness we didn’t go to the killing fields, Nicky said straight away that there were ghosts. What was once a school became a torture chamber where Pol Phot did the most horrendous things to anyone considered an enemy to their cause. I was creeped out and depressed, it is incredible brutality and they kept meticulous records with photo’s to prove it all. The fact that most of the leaders haven’t been brought to justice astounds me beyond anything, Pol Phot died of old age in exile a few years ago. The photographs are haunting. There is still something in the atmosphere in Cambodia, how can a country just continue after such a brutal time. There has been little retribution for the people who caused such pain, no reconciliation, just a get on with it and dry your tears kind of attitude.

A poem written by a prisoner explains that time so well (below)

That night we popped in to the Foreign Correspondence club to cheer up, a beautiful colonial building on the Mekong River as another tropical storm hit. To be sure this setting must be the inspiration behind the launch of a thousand novels.

We sat next to a Dutch girl, who was writing to her friends back home on why men are such bastards- she met a cool European man at a bar the previous night really hit it off was thrilled and then gave him her phone number, on the way out his Cambodian wife pops up and asked her why she wasn’t taking her husband home, it was fine with her as long as she used a condom!!!
She is in love with Phnom Penh and is here to teach English. She recommended that night’s restaurant a hip, trendy and organic place that supports training of Cambodians for the service industry – good food and sadly as always crazy expensive white wine.

We have a family vote to end the traveling and settle down somewhere in Bali for a while (surf beckoning). I was keen to carry on but the boys were tired and it was 3:1 Our last stop was Saigon (Ho Chi Min City) from where our flight was booked to Bali, hasty emails to Lawrence and Janine to see if we could join them, flight numbers and dates changed, we were set.

More Siem Reap (See and Weep)

Its amazing the subtle differences one notices crossing borders. Cambodia is no exception, I mean we hadn’t see a live pig trussed up on the back of a scooter anywhere in Asia, now every third bike seems to be carrying one. The Tuk Tuks are different, the beers, local whisky/rum/vodka stuff, traditional clothes, facial features. In Cambodia you can’t get local currency everything is in $US even at the Autobanks. Some countries don’t use coins, change is given in sweets! One delicious thing in Cambodia is the bread, lovely fresh baguettes everywhere, a throwback from the French occupation.

As we entered Cambodia we started noticing little stands alongside the roads with bottles of yellow and red liquid, couldn’t figure it out, we thought perhaps a traditional drink until we stopped to fill up, turns out its petrol, no meters, no pumps just old bottles filled with petrol sold by the liter, not surprisingly petrol filters are evident in the shops. Cambodia is mainly Buddhist and one comes across simple daily offerings everywhere, little handmade baskets with rice, flowers and incense. The after effects of the war are visible all around, minefield survivors with no legs or arms are in bands playing traditional music in town at night on the pavement or at the entrance to temples, damn its heartbreaking.

The “Golden Banana” becomes our central point for our explorations, a little oasis with a pool to cool off and relax. Met a girl there doing a survey for World Vision on the kids, she goes out into the field and asks questions, some of the answers break your heart, child abuse, sex tourism, slavery. Kids as young as 4 or 6 approach you at the temples, why aren’t they at school?
One thing that seems consistent is both the positive and negative effects of tourism, towns and cities are changing at a blistering rate all over Asia. Siem Reap is showing all the signs of becoming a tourist trap, touts, western bars, expats, cheap sunglasses, Mexican restaurants in Cambodia huh? People start giving up their traditional ways and sometimes you need to dig a little deeper to find what you are looking for.

An early morning visit to the local market in Seam is fascinating, I am on a mission to find an even bigger suitcase, one with wheels on as our luggage is breaking out all over the place. With the heat and lack of refrigeration fresh produce pours in daily from the surrounding countryside, piles of fish, strange vegetables, flowers, skinned frogs, other unmentionable moving things. With the heat, smells noise and steam the atmosphere is rich in the market, my camera lens keeps fogging up as I try to capture the scene. Our stomachs are pretty tough and spicy by now and we eat a lot of street food, mama behind the wok, children serving, $ 8 dollars buys our family a delicious fresh crunchy tasty (albeit MSG filled) meal.

One morning Mr Sam took us out of town to a little boat from where we traveled for about an hour to a floating village set on the largest Lake in SE Asia, a source of vast amounts of protein. This village is not set up on the side of the lake but miles from any shore. Everything is floating - houses, shops, vegetable gardens, even their pig-pens. We bought a hundred pencils (at a vastly inflated price) and stopped at an orphanage where Nicky handed them out. 100 sweet little Vietnamese children, human flotsam living in the middle of a lake in Cambodia! Last stop and of course the boys highlight was a visit to a floating crocodile and snake farm/ restaurant – as tough as our stomachs have become we declined to stay for lunch.

Angkor Wat

Angkor Wat must rate along with Michu Pachu and the Pyramids as one of the wonders of the world. It’s not possible to describe the scale and magnificence of the place and so despite the difficulty in reaching Siem Reap (Angkor Wat) it was well worth the effort.

Built between the 8th and 14th centuries this vast area consists of literally hundreds of cities, palaces and temples in various stages of repair. One can spend weeks stumbling around discovering new wonders and unlike most sites of this importance it’s still relatively ungoverned and you are able to really go just about anywhere unguided giving you that feeling of being an old time archeologist discovering things for the first time.

Mr Sam, our tuk tuk arrives in the morning and we are all bleary eyed but looking forward to the adventure. The road leads through thick indigenous forests, it’s like a movie stage set - incredible with a huge energy. We arrive at the most famous one first and get absolutely bombarded by touts selling books, trinkets, guides, videos and anything a tourist will buy.

One of the girls takes a complete fancy to Bill much to his disgust and says to me
“Hey mother in law you give me your son I take him home and show him some loving!”

Yeah right sista!!!!!! More like I’ll Karate chop and kick box you if you lay a hand on him. We laughed our way out of that one and Bill was horrified – “her teeth were disgusting”

We walk around feeling overwhelmed by the size and complexity of it all, thank god we have a 3 day pass as there is so much to explore. Somewhere in the ruins we come across a Monk who performs a ritual on Nicky, it’s priceless, he tells Nicky that whatever he sets his mind to he will get, Nicky responds later “I want puberty”.

We travel a few kilometers further and reach Bayon the temple with the huge faces and now we are really blown away. Huge, powerful and moving. Most of the sites have been adopted by countries who undertake the restoration and maintenance of a single temple. A project of massive scale and expense, with all the modern technology and machinery available they still struggle to attempt the most simple restoration making one wonder how on earth these edifices were built in the first place.

The highlight of the first day for Nicky was the monkeys, we stopped and he fed and loved them, Craig got his hair de-nitted in the process.

The second morning Craig and I arrived at sunrise and visited the more remote temples. What a powerful and moving experience. Ta Prom was the set for Tomb Raiders Angelina Jolie has a tree named after her. The temple has been left and the jungle has grown back, ancient trees are growing in, through and around it. The energy is incredible, you don’t need to even know what the temples are about, no need to do anything but wonder around, let go and absorb the atmosphere.

On the last night Louise and I climbed up to a temple set on top of a “mini lions head” We started climbing with the first signs of an imminent tropical storm. From the top we watched the storm approach over this incredible landscape of ancient civilization. As the storm broke 3 monks appeared on the horizon silouetted against the landscape. What a sight to burn into the mind as a final vision before running through the rain and our descent back to Sam our trusty tuk tuk driver.

Bangkok to Siem Reap via Hell

Its an early morning start 6.30 and by now we have far too much baggage and we are all a bit grumpy. Nicolas has lost his shoes, we are fighting with the hotel staff and the bus is waiting. Luckily the mini bus is comfy, air conditioned and empty. Nicky gets to sleep on a seat of his own – thank god as usually I find I’m his pillow and spend most of the trip uncomfortable while he gets to have a soft cushion and a good sleep.

It seems so quick, four hours pass and before we know it we stop for lunch and think how civilized this is. This guy comes over and says he will organize the visas just fill out the forms, they will take all the passports get our visa’s while we have lunch (cooool) There are about 4 mini busses and we are all like sheep handing out our passports. So while we are eating a plate of fried rice we start calculating what we are being charged and then 2 Canadian girls say they want their money back and they will do their own visa and heated discussions erupt. We all look at each other and know how we have been scammed big time.

I have done this border thing a few times before and hence my earnest conversation with the agent in Bangkok the day before but damn if the point didn’t come when our comfy mini bus disappears with our tickets and we are standing in the hot sun with far too many bags, waiting for a switch in operators. We are in no mans land a long stretch of tarmac to the border post. We toss our bags into a prehistoric wooden donkey cart being pulled by an equally ancient man and head for our pre-border swine flu grilling.

So now we have a smiley Cambodian in a pink shirt who attaches to us like a leach, he starts working us, we queue in a crowded sweaty office to get our passports stamped and I lose the forms so we get to the front and get bumped to the back of the queue again to redo the papers– talk about a sense of humor failure!! Nicky of course has no shoes so has to walk vast stretches in this hellhole on hot tar. Welcome to Cambodia!

Heavy bags moaning children and heat all makes a great opportunity for an excellent con artist. He starts priming us about the length of the trip from the border to Siem Riep and the bus only leaves at 4pm and stops everywhere blab blab la. Its 2 pm we would have to wait 2 hours in the sun then travel another 6 hours awww noo man.

He convinces us an air-conditioned taxi is the way to go so we hand over another 400 Baht each. (we later found out the bus left at about 3 and took 3 hours) oh yes and he conveniently walks us to the atm and describes how this is the last point to draw money (probably making sure he gets paid)

We are so aware we are being conned but are feel pretty softened up. Anyway we walk on with Nicky hopping at the heat on the road (good lesson on how NB shoes are to keep) there are casino hotels everywhere in this no mans land.

We get to the temporary bus station and get whisked out the back door past some really smelly toilets and it all feeling very surreal, we get into the taxi and say goodbye to the tosser merrily waving probably thinking – good one suckers!!

Our taxi-man takes a detour down a really bumpy track and stops at this place for GAS and I do mean gas they pop the boot with all our possesions, now I’m thinking – this is sooooooooo dodgy, so Craig hops out to see what the hell they are doing and remove the bags to fill this huge gas cylinder with well Gas, not the petrol type but the real type of gas, Huh? I thought they were filling the aircon gas for which I was grateful, anyway our driver couldn’t speak a word of English so we just left it at that.

The driver is silent but non violent and the 3 hours are pretty relaxed after the border crossing and we watch Cambodia unfold. Along the way we are a bit puzzled at these bikes roaring along with pigs balanced upside down on their backs in a basket like holder. We later find out that they get the pigs stoned with Ganga (Dagga) and because they are stoned its easy to transport the poor things to get slaughtered, shame poor pigs, my only consolation here is at least they are zoned out and probably thinking wooohooo is that what things look like upside down. Asia can really make you become vegetarian.

We were assured we would be dropped at our hotel but surprise surprise we get dropped at the tuk tuk station. The tuk tuk driver “our chosen one’ tells us that the guest house we want is no good as its full of lady boys, no good for our boys, mmm heard that one before and we say that’s were we are going OK. Guess what the name is??? GOLDEN BANANA GUEST HOUSE
Well it is full of lady boys and they are efficient, the place is gorgeous and has a fab pool yipeeee. We do a deal with our homophobic tuk tuk driver to be our driver for three days and with promises of a 9 am start we head for the pool.

Last Night in Bangkok

So Nicky, Bill and Lou set of for Bangkok again with a card of a hotel in Ko San road area. We arrive at the Wild Orchid something or other and I just think nooooway anyway I go and check out the room and then the next price range up and then eventually the top range room which is on the 6th floor with NO LIFT- huh?

We decide to leave and get a cab to our trusty hotel near the river when some sweet Thai girl says we have a better hotel just round the corner called Villa Cha Cha and it has a pool. We are sold, she grabs a heavy pack – lucky Nicky and head for the mad streets with us in tow, it’s not just round the corner but a lengthy walk and when she slips into this alley I’m thinking paranoid thoughts. Then out pops Villa Cha Cha from the swirling mass of stalls and mess, we check in very excited and happy to have found a home.

The problem is Craig is on a plane from Turkey and then onto the Wild Orchid villa and we are not there, how to get a message to Craig with no phone and no computer. So I found an internet café logged onto Craig’s email gmail and sent an urgent message from Craig to Craig??? Hehehe
The boys and I hit Fuji and had sushi yippee; love Bangkok did some good shopping whilst boys got their fix of Games in the big Kids entertainment emporium.

I get the message as I arrive in Bangkok which after Turkey is starting to feel like home, easy transfer into the city taking no bullshit from the taxi drivers and find my way to the hotel. What a relief to walk into the Cha Cha and see my tanned and chilled family sipping mango lassies around the pool. Louise has chosen a particularly crazy part of Bangkok, restaurants and shops line the streets, and in front of these a second tier of restaurants and bars line the pavements.

We emerge from our alley and fall into a papaya salad, chilli fish and Tiger beer. Much later I weave of nonchalantly down the road with promises to find a trip to Cambodia. Feeling jet lagged and spaced out I catch a tuk tuk across town to the train station, find an agent, stared earnestly into his eyes for a sign of honesty, think I see it and pay over good money for 4 tickets and a hassle free ride to Siem Reap in Cambodia the next morning.

Evening’s arrived when I return, we dump the boys in air conditioned comfort watching scratchy pirated DVD’s and head back into the human tide looking for a night on the town. Dinner is Indian, lots of white wine and ends with a hubbly hubbly shisha pipe watching the second tier of restaurants through the haze on the pavement. It has been particularly hot and humid even by Bangkok standards, the heavens open up and a tropical downpour engulfs the world outside.

Total non panic as rickety awnings emerge, restaurants and bars continue unabated – wires stretched overhead, bare light bulbs, grills, fires, dogs, chickens, rabbits, gas and all. Our last night in Thailand …… just over a month from North to South and everywhere in between - we love it!

Bangkok to Istanbul and back in 5 days

Woke up at 5.30 am, pulled on shorts t-shirt and sandals grabbed my bags slipped out of air-conditioned family suite and hit the wall of humidy and predawn glow on our little beach in Ko Pangang. Crazy 40 minute taxi ride, grabbed a few weird things to eat from the vendor, lugged my bag onto the 7am ferry for the mainland and squeezed into a seat next to a Thai family, little boy staring at me pushing a little car around his make believe world.

Tried to sleep but ended up thinking of the last 48 hrs, wired shakes at the reggae bar, heading off to the half moon party with a bunch of fun people, not like our epic Cape Outdoor parties but I had fun. Arrived back early next morning slept a few hours and spent the last day taking in our piece of paradise. Had a farewell dinner with our new found island tribe at Soms kitchen, (the best Thai food around) and then onto little bar on the beach, animated discussions, tearful goodbyes and off to bed leaving far too little time for sleep.

Back to the present, disembarked the ferry 2 hours later, big thunder showers on the go and ran through warm big drop rain to bus station for the hour bus ride to the airport. Asia Air fantastic airline, arrived Bangkok Airport with a 6 hours layover, decided on a quick trip into the city and Siam centre, clothing wonderland, kitted myself out in clothes for a few days back in the business world and headed back through 6 pm traffic crush to airport to catch the midnight flight to Istanbul.

Bangkok -Istanbul, what an unlikely combination. Arrived at Attaturk Airport 12 hours and 6 time zones later, 8 degrees a chilly morning feeling slightly silly in my 42 degree Bangkok outfit of T shirt and sandals, figured out the money, haggled with the taxi driver and headed into town.
Istanbul - Constantinople a mega 22 million people city spanning 2 continents and just oozing history. Crossed the Bosphorus and arrived early in the morning at our very comfortable 4 star Midtown hotel. (Big change from Asia) Changed into something warmer headed out had a tasty kebab from a street vendor, did some people watching, these Turks sure can smoke, a national pastime, bought some sleeping tablets with instructions in Turkish, closed the curtains and dropped into Lala land for 6 hours.

I enjoy being part of IDS group - a departure from the fiercely independent small business operator I have always been, IDS group is a crazy, chaotic, slightly eccentric but smart and challenging group of individuals. We meet once and sometimes twice a year in exotic locations to talk shop and party. Prague, Marrakech, Milan, Barcelona, Den Hague. It is an intense 4 days of burning the candle at both ends. All day meetings and then nights eating at great restaurants, experiencing the best tourist attractions and nightlife on offer. The company motto – “Life is too short to drink cheap white wine”. Istanbul was no exception and 4 days went in a blur.

So here I am 11pm sitting in a darkened departure lounge waiting to fly back around the world to join my family in Bangkok. Airports are strange places and at the moment half the people are wearing masks for the swine flu, this reminds me of giant ants nests with each individual ant hurrying on their own mission, sometimes meeting briefly, moments of intimacy, connections made and lost and then off we each go heading back into our own labyrinth.

I DID IT FOR MY HUSBAND

We had seen signs up everywhere for the half moon party, and whilst I was sort of reluctant, I knew it was something Craig would love to do.

We started the evening at a bar near us and had hooked up with a few people who would share a taxi to the party. Nice people 2 girls from Germany, Catherine ourselves, Joquim and some guy who moaned the whole way about how expensive the taxi was- (I would have loved to say something but hey, I'm chilled so just smiled and thought - shut-uuuup) In the bar a local called Gak (I know but it is a Thai name and probably sounds beautiful to them) made a mushroom shake, it looked too hideous for words, I had to decline although the others didn't , then off on the back of a bakkie with bench seats on a shit road mmm (was I firkin mad, what would our boys do if anything happened) the driver god bless his soul Mr. Handsome loved him as he was sent from heaven safe slow responsible driver - I was sooo going home with him

We arrived and my first feeling was ………..

This is so contrived!!!!!

on the walk up to the party locals sit waiting to pounce on you – offering all kinds of drugs and selling body painting, standing with pointer sticks and you point to a psycadellic picture you wanted painted somewhere on your body part with allot of Baht (moola)
Food stalls every thing from pizza to revolting sausage, Thai food, falafel (always an Israeli at a party selling a falafel)
Bars that sell buckets with local rum - and a variety of additions
Lots of visual entertainment (psychedelic kind)
Lots of very DRUNK farangs and Thai's
mmmmmm it was gonna be a long night
There was a Reggae band to start which were quite good in a Thai island kind of way - no woman no cry,
Then the heavy trance started
Craig went skipping off to do his sweet smiley trance dance and I watched with fascination at the goings on.
A voyeur all evening was I and some of the things I saw!!
you know the kind of guy that is definitely not cool, he has newly acquired Thai pants on with his t-shirt off and tucked into the back of his pants, slightly podgy (and white obviously a new arrival) he had painted on each of his arms - the first was lips with the seductive tongue sticking out !!!!And on the other arm 7eleven????????????????????Huh
After about 3 hours (yes I did it) you know that movie, she is just not that into you, well I felt like, I just can't get into this. I was reaching the end of my tolerance level and left a message for Craig that he would find me outside.

This is so contrived!!!!! on the walk up to the party locals sit waiting to pounce on you – offering all kinds of drugs and selling body painting, standing with pointer sticks and you point to a psycadellic picture you wanted painted somewhere on your body part with allot of Baht (moola)

Food stalls every thing from pizza to revolting sausage, Thai food, falafel (always an Israeli at a party selling a falafel)

Bars that sell buckets with local rum - and a variety of additions
Lots of visual entertainment (psychedelic kind)
Lots of very DRUNK farangs and Thai's

mmmmmm it was gonna be a long night

There was a Reggae band to start which were quite good in a Thai island kind of way - no woman no cry,

Then the heavy trance started......

Craig went skipping off to do his sweet smiley trance dance and I watched with fascination at the goings on.

A voyeur all evening was I and some of the things I saw!! ..... you know the kind of guy that is definitely not cool, he has newly acquired Thai pants on with his t-shirt off and tucked into the back of his pants, slightly podgy (and white obviously a new arrival) he had painted on each of his arms - the first was lips with the seductive tongue sticking out !!!!And on the other arm 7eleven????????????????????Huh

After about 3 hours (yes I did it) you know that movie, she is just not that into you, well I felt like, I just can't get into this. I was reaching the end of my tolerance level and left a message for Craig that he would find me outside.

I was sitting opposite the food stall and this REALLY drunk girl all sweaty - makeup gone awry look about her, staggered and weaved up to a food stall pointed to a kebab and a revolting looking sausage both on a stick, took about three weaves and a lot of concentration to pay with the right bills - she staggered over and sat down next to me weaving and rolling - she was out of it, after nearly impaling her eye with the kebab stick she latched onto the kebab and bit down, it was tough so she was pulling hard with her teeth, yess! she got her bite, but her co-ordination was so impaired that as the rest of the kebab was freed - it flew into the air and all the dogs milling around pounced and devoured it in a second, she was confused for a moment - looked at her empty hand and then started talking to the dogs, whilst doing so her multi-tasking skills had lapsed and her last remaining food item the revolting sausage gently rolled off her plate into the sand - the dogs were there in a second, OHHH, I was laughing so hard by this stage.

Let’s just say it was the highlight of my evening - reality entertainment!

The trip home was funny too and we had a few drunk girls who were talking such hog wash one of them a South African living in London who whilst sober has this very affected poncey accent, but while drunk it keeps slipping from slur to south African, ha-ha, so Bust!!!!

Ok so been there done that got the badge, in fact I felt like I needed an endurance badge.
The thing is, - Full moon party started 20 years ago by a few traveling hippies and now they have full moon parties , half moon parties, black moon parties after parties 2 days before parties 2 days after parties , pool parties, where is the hippie soul in all of that, I would have been happier in the Yai Bar just down the beach from us , plays groovy sexy music , you can swim if you get to hot and well, its far cooler than crowds of sweaty drunk, high, young , I think I have been there and got the badge, I want soul !!!!!!!!!!!!!

Craig left for Istanbul and we are schooling till lunch and chilling for the day Bill played in the 5 o’clock local soccer game - must say he is braver than me. It looks pretty hardcore - go Bill
Nicky made friends with some local kids at Central gets to have free pool games must say the kid’s skills in Fuzeball and pool improving.

Koh Phagnan finding paradise

We arrive on Koh Phagnan on a Sunday without really knowing where we are going, trusting the universe (who sends us a tout, a good saleswoman at that!) and head straight to the bungalows the tout on the boat finds us (my worst are touts they bloody work you over - but we decided - tired and sleep a priority it will be ok for one night). Whilst it is ok, clean and with a pool its not where we wanna be - too close to the ferry and the lady boy bars, perfect for the sex tourist not us we want fantastic remote beach where we can swim in the sea and little or no distractions (like shopping!).

We hire a jeep and decide to do one more night where we are and find our home for the next 10 days. Mmmm well the jeep is a little Suzuki. Kids are squashed in the almost non existent back seat, we set off on our mission , we had been advised that the roads are pretty bad UNDERSTATEMENT of the century they are terrible, kids squabbling, us irritated with them, they obviously just don't understand our mission.......

We spend most of the day on the road and did the easiest road first, we found nothing that blew our skirt up, we went to Had rin (where the full moon parties are held), definitely not for us, by this stage the boys squabbles had escalated into full blown warfare, Nicky and I still having tummy troubles and having to make up stories for our pit stops at unlikely guesthouses without them knowing that all we needed was THE TOILET NOW. So we took a group decision to take the kid’s home to swim and head out on our own.

The road to Thong Nai pan nai is really bad and with a jeep that has no shocks, smooth tires and an engine that should be retired - it is quite a long and interesting journey, we decided to go there as some other travelers had told us about a place called Dolphin Bungalows, finally arrived and liked what we saw (the beach was amazing), but I (Lou) felt that Dolphin was not really what we wanted, and it was the wrong side of the beach - well it felt like that to me. I decided to walk the beach, I went into every resort and bungalow and finally found our home Candle Hut bungalows, they have new Zen (stunning) ones and older more traditional ones the older ones had what we wanted -A family room. (well family rooms are not for honeymoon couple or an active sex life - but hey we could always get creative - long showers etc :) yahh mission accomplished, we arranged for them to pick us up from Thong salan the next day and started our harrowing journey back in the dark on a shit road. I needed a stiff drink - in fact if I had a bottle of whiskey on the road I probably would have finished it, so we settled for beer and a quart was gone in a sec. We had to turn aircon off and grate into first every time we got to a hill, all ended well and we went of for a pizza - the last day of a dodgy tummy nothing like boring western food /bread to stop the runs.

Whilst Craig excited at the prospect of being able to work again (he was getting twitchy) he missioned to get connected - with not a lot of success - can you imagine how that affected us, mmm lets just say the 1st few days were interesting, here we were in Paradise and it was all a bit heavy.

What a difference a day makes! Once he was connected and sorted (it happened by accident he just picked up someone’s WIFI at our resort - perfect) it all got better and so the fun began. So did school work, the first day of math’s was as if Nicky had ants in his pants, but as the days go by its easier to get them both going. Bill has only had one email and he has accomplished all his tasks, if I don't have an eagle eye Nicky pops up his face book, so its constant - I think teachers should be applauded daily imagine doing this with 20+ kids every day - all day.

On the first day we arrived Craig went off to discover whilst I unpacked and made house, Nicky came running in at some stage to inform me Craig was talking to a girl on the beach who had NO TOP ON!!! When I asked if she had nice boobs, he wasn't very impressed, there he was looking after my interests and I was being Glib, no top ended up being Catherine from Sydney and a yoga teacher - weehee as the yoga studio in town was closed for renovations. Thank you universe!!

Kayaking to Vientiane and onto the Islands down South

We woke up early and got into the back of a truck with canoes stacked up to the sky and hit the windey road, a Dutch girl who had a dogey stomach and gets car sick was in with us - another barf bag, and my tissues and wet wipe later she sheepishly with many apologies started looking helpless holding the bag and not sure what to do with it. Craig who was sitting next to her and looking rather green himself told her this is not Holland toss the bag out the truck.We arrived at our canoe stop and hit the river anticipating 2, 3 and 4 grade rapids and watched our bags disappearing over the hill on the truck destined for our end point, wondering if we would ever see them again.

Lou partnered with Bill, Nick with Craig, I definitely lucked out with Bill he and I were a team and he worked hard, Nicky on the other hand played the fool the whole trip and at one point as I canoed past he was lying back and using the paddle pretending to be doing bench press, he definitely is training to be Mr. Funny guy. We stopped before the big rapids, climbed out and walked round to check them out and then got a vague go to the middle mmmm, who bloody thought of this. Anyway Janine and Lawrence, me and Bill ended up capsizing, no one injured so all ok, they made us lunch on the side of the river little kebabs, with baguettes, the last part of the journey got a bit long in the tooth and I think we all lost our sense of humor, anyway at least the car to Vientiane was air-conditioned and a mini bus.

We got dropped off and walked towards town and the river all a bit frayed at the edges and there like a mirage in the desert was a shiny new hotel, I was saying in my mind – that’s for me and then Janine god bless her soul said it, we walked in did the deal and had shiny new bathrooms and rooms, what a pleasure. Hit a local expat French restaurant and tucked into steaks and red wine for a change and languished in our aircon rooms seeing what had happened in the outside world in the last few weeks, elections SA! Viva Zuma!

The next day awoke to no electricity, no aircon, no money and temperatures soaring. Realized my mobile had been switched of and packed in the bottom of my bag for two weeks, not missing it at all!

We have been in Laos about 2 weeks now, for a communist country it has been remarkably free and easy but time to move on. Bus to border, border crossing, overnight train to Bangkok, and flight to the South and the islands. All accomplished in 24 hours, its amazing how organized travel is in this part of the world. Small operators, very entrepreneurial and cheap, SA could pick up some good tips here.

Decided on new financial plan for the boys - pocket money 250 bahts each every three days. Arrived at Bangkok airport and both boys blew their new found wealth in one go on Sushi. Took Nicky a 10 baht bet to eat a big blob of Wasabi, should have seen his face on his first Wasabi rush priceless!

Raiders of the lost ark

We woke up and headed for more caves these ones you swim through, same turquoise color tunnels heading into the mountain. After an initial recci, Lawrence the Canadian, myself (Craig) and the boys wrapped the one headlamp we had in a left over blue barf bag from the bus and descended from the 40+ degrees outside into the bowels of the earth, a combination of cool water and chilled mountain air. Great adventure ahead!

Once you go round a few bends with the odd bump of your head or toes the natural light disappears completely. Now we were reliant on the headlamp, Lawrence and I took turns swimming one handed with the torch held aloft. Eventually after a few forks it dawned on us that if the torch dies or if we drop it we were going to be in big trouble and reach a silent unanimous cave decision to turn round and head back to the light!

Headed back to the caves from the previous day- the scenery is SICK (stupidly beautiful)– time for the meditation lesson. On the way I (Lou) got a flat tyre, everyone was ahead so Nicky jumped off and we drove/ walked slowly until I got to a guy who? – fixes tyres. The old way with a hot iron compressor thing. Craig by this time arrived in a cloud of dust to see what happened. I waited patiently until my tube was repaired (R20) whilst Craig and Nicky went ahead to a rickety 4 table restaurant to order noodles and papaya salad. In these little places everything is made from scratch in a tiny kitchen so food comes out fresh in dribs and drabs as each dish is completed. You get to taste everyone else’s food whilst waiting perfect!

Its one thing going caving with a slightly gung ho Canadian and quite another leading your wife and 2 boys in sans the psycho, no warnings, no signs, no guides, no entrance fee you are on your own, needless to say we never got round to meditating but everyone’s comfort zones were stretched to the limit by the end of the caving expedition.

Another long beautiful day of adventure. At the end of the day I think it was Janine that suggested we kayak to Vientiane to avoid another 3 hour bus trip - through a combination of swirling endorphins, cold Loa beer and too much sun we made a decision to go for it!