I'm sitting at the public computer in this nice little hostel in Hue, Vietnam. A light but steady rain is washing the streets but the sun is strong enough to pierce the clouds and illuminate the land. I'm waiting for the weather to improve so I can get on Lucky Lucy, my Honda Win. She will take me to Da Nang in the south where tomorrow I have an interview to be accepted in a college ran by Canadians.
They will train me to become a teacher so that I can work, here in Vietnam. If everything goes well, I'll be putting my bags down for a while and get a more in-depth look at this amazing culture.
I've been in Vietnam for 3 weeks now, all of it has been great.
Right from the start, crossing the land border (a small bridge over a river) from China to Vietnam, I've had a huge weight lifted off my shoulders and been walking around, contempt.
First of all, everybody is warm. So warm. The locals are not tired at all of tourists. They stare at my tattoos a lot but if I smile at them, they smile back, 99% of the time. And what beautiful smiles.
No one is shitting in the streets, or spitting in the bus, or shouting at me for no fucking reason. This was a reality the second I stepped on Vietnam soil. Just a small river separates China from Vietnam and yet, the difference is stunning.
The food is delicious, not that spicy, and if you stick to street vendors you can get away with spending $10 a day for your three meals. A beer is usually $1. Not 2% Chinese stuff either. I've had a few hangovers already.
Around the middle of the country, near Hue, the coast with sunny warm beaches is just 50km away from wet and cloudy mountains. Diversity at such a close range.
My first night in Vietnam was spent on a sleeper train, traveling with Claudio the Italian basketball coach. After Nilkanth, he's my second favorite person that I traveled with on this trip. We shared a booth on the train with an Irish guy who froze when he heard The Pogues softly playing on my speaker. We shared some beers and stories.
We arrived in Hanoi at 5am, groggy, sleepy. There I would get my first Vietnam lesson: money is fucking confusing. 20,000 Dongs roughly equals $1. Our cab costs us 150,000 and as we all try to pay the driver at the same time, he starts moving money around, trying to confuse us as to who paid what amount and he is slightly successful. At the end of the transaction I overpaid by 30,000 Dongs and realized as he was driving away. I get very angry, until I realize that I only lost $1,50 in the transaction. Second lesson of Vietnam: count your change. Third lesson: everything's cheap.
We check in our hotel where the receptionist is sleeping in a small folder bed behind the counter. He tells us to put our bags down and go sleep in the common area, we're too early to check in. We gladly comply and sleep until 10am, after which we get to our rooms, drop our bags, have a little shower and workout, and go explore.
We get some cheap food and promptly get lost in the Old Quarters, the backpackers area, where every street has a commerce specialty. We see food street, bar street, metal street, bike repair street, clothes street. We see scooters everywhere, people just sitting around waiting, little dogs, birds in cages chirping away in the front of little stores, street vendors, cooked dog.
It's Friday, and when the sun goes down around 6pm, all the little bars and restaurants put small plastic stools out and the streets get clogged with beer drinkers, both westerners and locals. We quickly find out about Beer Hoi (tap beer), rumored to be brewed in a day but I don't know how this is possible. We sit next to the keg because, well, one mug is 5,000 Dong (25 cents), the beer is cold and the air is warm. After a few hours our duo of travelers has evolved into a full group of 10 people, some backpacking, some on holiday, some ex-pats. As we sit and talk and laugh, the street sounds of scooters, laughter, talking and dog barking lets in something different: the beautiful melody of 2 violins backed up by flute. Meters from us, 3 beautiful girls in black dresses are playing a free show. I am in love with Vietnam.
At midnight, the police shows up and closes everything. The tightly packed crowd quickly disappears but we are approached by club promoters. They take us to what looks like a fancy building, and on the 5th floor a dark club with loud music and a dance floor swallows us whole. We drink and dance until 5am.
We have to take a bus to Ha Long bay at 8am. It was rough.
We got packed in a small gray bus expertly navigating the small crowded streets. In the back, 5 Australian bros are talking loudly and laughing. They carry a huge boombox. Everyone else on the bus is quiet. I secretly hope that they are not on our boat tour, for I feel like taking it easy tonight.
We spent 2 nights in Ha Long Bay. The first night we spent drinking more Beer Hoi on the roof of the boat with other travelers. The bros were on a different tour so we got to relax. We had the crew turn off all the lights of the boat so we could just lay down and look at the stars while trading travel stories and everyone was nice. The next day we spent on Cat Ba island, where I meet a very dysfunctional couple of a 60-year old Vietnam millionaire woman who bathes topless, and a 30-year old scruffy-looking Brit. Weird conversations ensued.
I ended up getting pretty sick from swimming in the dirty bay where our bungalow was. I was afraid of Dengue but I just got mild fever and a cough that stuck with me for 2 weeks, until I resolved to spitting out the yellow shit that was coming up. I stayed a total of 8 days in Hanoi, relaxing, trying out the food, walking around, looking at INTESOL schools and streaming hockey very early in the morning, from the hotel lobby computers. I absolutely loved Hanoi and wouldn't mind working there for a while.
Buying my motorbike, that I paid $230 for - helmet, rack and bungee cords included - I ran into a German couple I met on mount Hua Shan in China, a month earlier. They're also buying a bike (that I later learned we should have paid $50 for) and we decide to travel south together, for safety's sake.
We left the next day on the first step to an amazing journey.
Cheers guys
Showing posts with label backpacking. Show all posts
Showing posts with label backpacking. Show all posts
Saturday, 8 November 2014
Thursday, 23 October 2014
Beijing markets, night train to Pingyao
23/09/14
After a nice day spent wandering around the Beijing weekend market laid out in a huge open area covered by a giant roof, under which are stalls are thrown together in long lines offering every kind of goods. The first end of the market seems to deal more in bracelets and necklaces, huge and ridiculously long, sold directly on a carpet thrown on the floor. People are haggling while smoking cigarettes, squatting comfortably inches from the floor. Again, like every place in China, there are almost no western tourists.
After a few rows of these the stalls change into huge piles of what looks like infinitely precious china - porcelain - all arranged neatly, waiting for a bidder. There are way less people in these rows and the stall owners are playing games on their phones or catching a quick nap on a tiny chair, head laid back, mouth wide open.
Following this rising trend, the last stalls are small rectangular affairs, more high than wide and my personal favorites: they deal in folk paintings of tigers or rice fields, mountainous landscapes or huge characters of Chinese alphabet, an awesome display of calligraphy.
When I even just ask to look at a tiny necklace of a Buddha sculpted in jade I am rudely waved off by an aged Chinese woman, her eyes closed to emphasize the gesture.
When you reach the outskirts of this mass (mess?) of people you run into these old, small stone buildings that look like something directly out of a Kung-Fu movie. The jewelers occupy these squat houses.
I soon realize that behind those buildings there is another, smaller market where they sell books, old vinyls and even propaganda art. I think about getting a booklet of fragile paper full of drawings against Japanese soldiers. I only know they are Japanese because of the flag insignia they are wearing - they are drawn resembling dogs or rats, stabbing farmers or common folk with bayonets! I know my friend Angus would go nuts for it but I'm afraid to destroy it if I take it with me on my travels. I settle on a classic small Chairman Mao red book written in french, from 1966. Easier to carry.
That night, in my little room consisting of a rock-hard double bed, a tiny desk and a toiler/shower, I read about leaving Beijing.
From the tiny bathroom window seeps in sounds from the street below. The incessant honking that was breaking the silence of day is replaced by chatter, laughs, spitting and burping as people eat their meals on tiny plastic furniture laid out in front of the restaurants. Classic Chinese music (it's exactly what you're picturing) provides a soundtrack to this social life buzz.
I am a little nervous as I read online that apparently it is nigh impossible to get a seat on a train on the same day. I set my alarm for 6 am and try to relax, reading a book in bed while the street noise slowly dissolves and all that is left is the man in the next room snoring peacefully.
After a short 3-hour night (time difference, a ridiculously hard bed and an even harder snorer team up to keep me awake) I take a cold shower to wake up, pack my bags and make my way to the train station.
I get there fairly easily - the subway system is efficient and there are plenty of directions in English - and I all but stop dead in my tracks, gazing at the scene unfolding in front of me.
First of all, the train station is intimidating. Huge, with no English signs at first glance.
Second, there's hundreds of humans moving about like ants working around their fortress. A policeman with machine gun, all dressed in bad ass black, is standing on a podium like a statue.
Not too far from him, kneeling on the hard ground, a lady of about 70 years is begging. I notice that she is not wearing a shirt... but you cannot see her breasts. They are completely engulfed by giant tumors flowering out of her chest. Several people are eyeing me down and pointing at my tattoos without shame.
After a few minutes of aimless walking around with my 15 kilos on my back I finally find the ticket office.
Judging from the giant light sign displaying trains, departure times, seat availability and prices on the far wall, there's a few seats left for the sleeper train that I need. Several minutes later and I have a spot thanks to the fact that there is one window at the ticket booth reserved for English speakers. The train leaves at 5 pm and it's not even 10 am yet so I find the place labeled "Baggage Let" and drop off my temporary home. The man at the booth tries to joke with me in his language and ends his sentence making a gun with his hands and pretending to shoot me.
We both laugh at the awkwardness that ensues.
A quick look at my map, there's still time to squeeze in a last sight! Temple of Summer it is.
Perched on top of a stony hill, overlooking a big lake crowded with small boats, sits a temple built right in the middle of jagged rocks. The climb is quick and easy and the view well worth it. During my walk I try some street food, this type of Pogo... a sausage wrapped in a gauffre, on a stick. Delicious!
Walking back from the Temple of Summer (it was, as you may have guessed, the summer residence of the emperor in ole days) I try more street food that I have been shying away from. All great, all cheap. I try this giant spring roll that turns out is packed tight with rice. I also get 2 types of pancakes, folder onto each other several times to become compact little squares packed with vegetable goodies. I feel that my grace period of adaptation is coming to an end: no more expensive hotels or fancy food or falling for scams, I tell myself!
That night, as a kind of confirmation, I climb into my hard mattress, 3rd bunk from the floor on a rocky sleeper train. There's small handles you can unfold from the wall to help you climb up since it's 7-feet high. I am the only whithey in the wagon. I keep waking up all night, afraid to miss my stop. I am scheduled to arrive at 5 am and I set my alarm for 4:30 but all the announcements are in Chinese and they have a very different way to pronounce city names.
At 4 am however, I am woken up by a train officer, this lady in blue uniform armed with a flashlight aimed directly in my face. When I first got on the train she came to take my ticket and exchange it for a small color card, big like a business card. She is now handing back the ticket to me as I return the color-coded card, I guess it's their little system to make sure people get off at the right place. She tells me to get ready with gestures. 40 minutes later and I arrive in Pingyao.
It's 5 am, it's pitch black, and it's cold.
After a nice day spent wandering around the Beijing weekend market laid out in a huge open area covered by a giant roof, under which are stalls are thrown together in long lines offering every kind of goods. The first end of the market seems to deal more in bracelets and necklaces, huge and ridiculously long, sold directly on a carpet thrown on the floor. People are haggling while smoking cigarettes, squatting comfortably inches from the floor. Again, like every place in China, there are almost no western tourists.
After a few rows of these the stalls change into huge piles of what looks like infinitely precious china - porcelain - all arranged neatly, waiting for a bidder. There are way less people in these rows and the stall owners are playing games on their phones or catching a quick nap on a tiny chair, head laid back, mouth wide open.
Following this rising trend, the last stalls are small rectangular affairs, more high than wide and my personal favorites: they deal in folk paintings of tigers or rice fields, mountainous landscapes or huge characters of Chinese alphabet, an awesome display of calligraphy.
When I even just ask to look at a tiny necklace of a Buddha sculpted in jade I am rudely waved off by an aged Chinese woman, her eyes closed to emphasize the gesture.
When you reach the outskirts of this mass (mess?) of people you run into these old, small stone buildings that look like something directly out of a Kung-Fu movie. The jewelers occupy these squat houses.
I soon realize that behind those buildings there is another, smaller market where they sell books, old vinyls and even propaganda art. I think about getting a booklet of fragile paper full of drawings against Japanese soldiers. I only know they are Japanese because of the flag insignia they are wearing - they are drawn resembling dogs or rats, stabbing farmers or common folk with bayonets! I know my friend Angus would go nuts for it but I'm afraid to destroy it if I take it with me on my travels. I settle on a classic small Chairman Mao red book written in french, from 1966. Easier to carry.
That night, in my little room consisting of a rock-hard double bed, a tiny desk and a toiler/shower, I read about leaving Beijing.
From the tiny bathroom window seeps in sounds from the street below. The incessant honking that was breaking the silence of day is replaced by chatter, laughs, spitting and burping as people eat their meals on tiny plastic furniture laid out in front of the restaurants. Classic Chinese music (it's exactly what you're picturing) provides a soundtrack to this social life buzz.
I am a little nervous as I read online that apparently it is nigh impossible to get a seat on a train on the same day. I set my alarm for 6 am and try to relax, reading a book in bed while the street noise slowly dissolves and all that is left is the man in the next room snoring peacefully.
After a short 3-hour night (time difference, a ridiculously hard bed and an even harder snorer team up to keep me awake) I take a cold shower to wake up, pack my bags and make my way to the train station.
I get there fairly easily - the subway system is efficient and there are plenty of directions in English - and I all but stop dead in my tracks, gazing at the scene unfolding in front of me.
First of all, the train station is intimidating. Huge, with no English signs at first glance.
Second, there's hundreds of humans moving about like ants working around their fortress. A policeman with machine gun, all dressed in bad ass black, is standing on a podium like a statue.
Not too far from him, kneeling on the hard ground, a lady of about 70 years is begging. I notice that she is not wearing a shirt... but you cannot see her breasts. They are completely engulfed by giant tumors flowering out of her chest. Several people are eyeing me down and pointing at my tattoos without shame.
After a few minutes of aimless walking around with my 15 kilos on my back I finally find the ticket office.
Judging from the giant light sign displaying trains, departure times, seat availability and prices on the far wall, there's a few seats left for the sleeper train that I need. Several minutes later and I have a spot thanks to the fact that there is one window at the ticket booth reserved for English speakers. The train leaves at 5 pm and it's not even 10 am yet so I find the place labeled "Baggage Let" and drop off my temporary home. The man at the booth tries to joke with me in his language and ends his sentence making a gun with his hands and pretending to shoot me.
We both laugh at the awkwardness that ensues.
A quick look at my map, there's still time to squeeze in a last sight! Temple of Summer it is.
Perched on top of a stony hill, overlooking a big lake crowded with small boats, sits a temple built right in the middle of jagged rocks. The climb is quick and easy and the view well worth it. During my walk I try some street food, this type of Pogo... a sausage wrapped in a gauffre, on a stick. Delicious!
Walking back from the Temple of Summer (it was, as you may have guessed, the summer residence of the emperor in ole days) I try more street food that I have been shying away from. All great, all cheap. I try this giant spring roll that turns out is packed tight with rice. I also get 2 types of pancakes, folder onto each other several times to become compact little squares packed with vegetable goodies. I feel that my grace period of adaptation is coming to an end: no more expensive hotels or fancy food or falling for scams, I tell myself!
That night, as a kind of confirmation, I climb into my hard mattress, 3rd bunk from the floor on a rocky sleeper train. There's small handles you can unfold from the wall to help you climb up since it's 7-feet high. I am the only whithey in the wagon. I keep waking up all night, afraid to miss my stop. I am scheduled to arrive at 5 am and I set my alarm for 4:30 but all the announcements are in Chinese and they have a very different way to pronounce city names.
At 4 am however, I am woken up by a train officer, this lady in blue uniform armed with a flashlight aimed directly in my face. When I first got on the train she came to take my ticket and exchange it for a small color card, big like a business card. She is now handing back the ticket to me as I return the color-coded card, I guess it's their little system to make sure people get off at the right place. She tells me to get ready with gestures. 40 minutes later and I arrive in Pingyao.
It's 5 am, it's pitch black, and it's cold.
Tuesday, 21 October 2014
Beijing Scammers and the Forbidden City
20/09/2014
As some of you may know, I made a conscious decision to leave semi-prepared, hoping this would make the trip more interesting. I checked the "essentials" online a few days before leaving to make sure I wouldn't miss out on any cool things to do or have problems at borders and that was it.
Well, it has certainly made things more interesting.
On my way to the Forbidden Palace, about to exit the subway station, I am intercepted by two Chinese women of about 40 who could speak english very well. They offered me to join them for the Forbidden Palace, they would act as translators. They were part of a bigger tourist group but decided to split for a day.
That's what they said.
"Cool", I thought to myself, some company.
My top, best, favorite thing in travels is to mingle with the locals.It's not always easy. It is also one of the reasons why I love Laos so much, they let you right into their life.
After we exit the subway, they guide me to the forbidden city, all the while making small talk and invite me for some tea before we proceed.
This is when the spider-sense would have been tingling, have I read a little bit more about Beijing beforehand.
We had some tea, I had a beer and they ordered some cocktails and snacks. We had a good conversation about China and Canada and some laughs, and then came the bill.
One. Hundred. Dollars.
Even better, the tiny place where we are is dead silent. Then my brain starts working out some details I should have paid attention to. There's only one table in this place, a tiny spot in the corner. Looks normal for a chinese place though, but still. Also, the sign for open/closed is switched to Closed in the window facing the street.
The waitress and both ladies are staring at me expectantly. I raise my eyebrows and say that this is really expensive and ask for a discount for my beer, which was $10. Considering there's 50 cents cans right next door to my hotel, this was ludicrous.
The waitress, upon hearing my request, immediately starts shouting! "YOU PAY! YOU PAY!". One of the ladies says that it is chinese customs for the man to pick up the whole bill. "That's fine but I'm not chinese, and you were the one to invite me." I offer to pay for my beer and 1/3 of the tea ($50 alone!). I calmly take out my money and put it on the table, then stare at the other two ladies without saying a word. No one picks up my moneys. After a few, very tense seconds, one of the two ladies starts laughing and says she will pay the rest. I ended up paying $35 for beer and tea! More than the price of my room for a night, or even a full day in South-East Asia.
Later on in my travels I would meet other people, men and women, who would fall for this scam. One french man explains "It is the most expensive water I have ever drank".
Very bitterly I exit the restaurant and tell the women that it was over-priced and ridiculous. It still hadn't crossed my mind that they were working in tandem with the store owner, just that they wanted to be spoiled.
"Tea made me hungry, do you want to come with us and eat some noodles?"
At this point I realized that I had been a huge idiot. I stopped in my tracks and stared at them longer. I told them I was going to go on, on my own. They said their goodbyes cheerfully and went their way, probably back to the subway station to hook more tourist-fish with their deceptive worms of smiles.
I hope that once in a while, lying in their bed in the evening, they think about what they do, and they can't sleep at night.
Moments later, I find myself in front of the ticket office for the Forbidden City. There is an inner battle in my mind: Cost for my day - scam included - versus memories. In the end I tell myself I made it all the way to freaking China, might as well. I'll skip on some other things.
Inside the walls of the Forbidden City I look around wide-eyed. This had been a dream of mine since I was a kid, hearing about it in a movie.
The entrapment scam had unfortunately left a sour taste in my mouth. I can honestly say that I did not enjoy walking the confines of this ancient, sacred place. Everything looked too new and rebuilt as well.
Surrounded by chinese tourists I climbed up and down white stairs sculpted in rock, up white balconies, always decorated with intricate railings where heads of what looked like dragons equipped with short elephant snouts pointing up stare out in every direction, for ever.
At the top of these stairs - always in red walls roofed by ornate green tiles supported by wooden beams lacquered in gold - are the buildings used by emperors centuries ago, where they prayed and held ceremonies. The first building was situated maybe 10 feet higher than the court but the more you moved towards the middle of the Forbidden City, the bigger these buildings became and the higher they were situated.
Amassed at the doors of said buildings are waves and waves of people - all chinese, all with black heads - pushing and shoving to get a cellphone picture of an ancient throne of gold or a giant gong or the empress's living quarters, separated only from the onslaught of chinese tourists by a metal bar, chest-high, and a quiet guard sitting bored on a chair.
Walking absent-minded I go through the process, seeing a series of buildings almost identical to each other for about an hour. I don't even feel observed any more, even if I am the only foreigner for long stretches.
Finally, I see something that truly impressed me.
In the middle of these stairs, always laid down and following the incline are stone carvings depicting various scenes.
In the center of the complex however, following the longest stairs, this stone is HUGE.
As you walk up the stairs you can watch the scene unfold, of dragons emerging from a stormy ocean to go dance in a sky occupied by clouds of tempest.
The giant white stone has apparently been dragged there centuries ago, from thousands of miles away. This piece of rock is enormous. I'm not good with dimensions but if it was laid up and straight it would probably be about 20 feet high at least, and 7 feet wide. It was brought there by very determined people during winter time. They would sprinkle water on the ground to form an icy path and slid the stone that way across China.
Impressive.
As some of you may know, I made a conscious decision to leave semi-prepared, hoping this would make the trip more interesting. I checked the "essentials" online a few days before leaving to make sure I wouldn't miss out on any cool things to do or have problems at borders and that was it.
Well, it has certainly made things more interesting.
On my way to the Forbidden Palace, about to exit the subway station, I am intercepted by two Chinese women of about 40 who could speak english very well. They offered me to join them for the Forbidden Palace, they would act as translators. They were part of a bigger tourist group but decided to split for a day.
That's what they said.
"Cool", I thought to myself, some company.
My top, best, favorite thing in travels is to mingle with the locals.It's not always easy. It is also one of the reasons why I love Laos so much, they let you right into their life.
After we exit the subway, they guide me to the forbidden city, all the while making small talk and invite me for some tea before we proceed.
This is when the spider-sense would have been tingling, have I read a little bit more about Beijing beforehand.
We had some tea, I had a beer and they ordered some cocktails and snacks. We had a good conversation about China and Canada and some laughs, and then came the bill.
One. Hundred. Dollars.
Even better, the tiny place where we are is dead silent. Then my brain starts working out some details I should have paid attention to. There's only one table in this place, a tiny spot in the corner. Looks normal for a chinese place though, but still. Also, the sign for open/closed is switched to Closed in the window facing the street.
The waitress and both ladies are staring at me expectantly. I raise my eyebrows and say that this is really expensive and ask for a discount for my beer, which was $10. Considering there's 50 cents cans right next door to my hotel, this was ludicrous.
The waitress, upon hearing my request, immediately starts shouting! "YOU PAY! YOU PAY!". One of the ladies says that it is chinese customs for the man to pick up the whole bill. "That's fine but I'm not chinese, and you were the one to invite me." I offer to pay for my beer and 1/3 of the tea ($50 alone!). I calmly take out my money and put it on the table, then stare at the other two ladies without saying a word. No one picks up my moneys. After a few, very tense seconds, one of the two ladies starts laughing and says she will pay the rest. I ended up paying $35 for beer and tea! More than the price of my room for a night, or even a full day in South-East Asia.
Later on in my travels I would meet other people, men and women, who would fall for this scam. One french man explains "It is the most expensive water I have ever drank".
Very bitterly I exit the restaurant and tell the women that it was over-priced and ridiculous. It still hadn't crossed my mind that they were working in tandem with the store owner, just that they wanted to be spoiled.
"Tea made me hungry, do you want to come with us and eat some noodles?"
At this point I realized that I had been a huge idiot. I stopped in my tracks and stared at them longer. I told them I was going to go on, on my own. They said their goodbyes cheerfully and went their way, probably back to the subway station to hook more tourist-fish with their deceptive worms of smiles.
I hope that once in a while, lying in their bed in the evening, they think about what they do, and they can't sleep at night.
Moments later, I find myself in front of the ticket office for the Forbidden City. There is an inner battle in my mind: Cost for my day - scam included - versus memories. In the end I tell myself I made it all the way to freaking China, might as well. I'll skip on some other things.
Inside the walls of the Forbidden City I look around wide-eyed. This had been a dream of mine since I was a kid, hearing about it in a movie.
The entrapment scam had unfortunately left a sour taste in my mouth. I can honestly say that I did not enjoy walking the confines of this ancient, sacred place. Everything looked too new and rebuilt as well.
Surrounded by chinese tourists I climbed up and down white stairs sculpted in rock, up white balconies, always decorated with intricate railings where heads of what looked like dragons equipped with short elephant snouts pointing up stare out in every direction, for ever.
At the top of these stairs - always in red walls roofed by ornate green tiles supported by wooden beams lacquered in gold - are the buildings used by emperors centuries ago, where they prayed and held ceremonies. The first building was situated maybe 10 feet higher than the court but the more you moved towards the middle of the Forbidden City, the bigger these buildings became and the higher they were situated.
Amassed at the doors of said buildings are waves and waves of people - all chinese, all with black heads - pushing and shoving to get a cellphone picture of an ancient throne of gold or a giant gong or the empress's living quarters, separated only from the onslaught of chinese tourists by a metal bar, chest-high, and a quiet guard sitting bored on a chair.
Walking absent-minded I go through the process, seeing a series of buildings almost identical to each other for about an hour. I don't even feel observed any more, even if I am the only foreigner for long stretches.
Finally, I see something that truly impressed me.
In the middle of these stairs, always laid down and following the incline are stone carvings depicting various scenes.
In the center of the complex however, following the longest stairs, this stone is HUGE.
As you walk up the stairs you can watch the scene unfold, of dragons emerging from a stormy ocean to go dance in a sky occupied by clouds of tempest.
The giant white stone has apparently been dragged there centuries ago, from thousands of miles away. This piece of rock is enormous. I'm not good with dimensions but if it was laid up and straight it would probably be about 20 feet high at least, and 7 feet wide. It was brought there by very determined people during winter time. They would sprinkle water on the ground to form an icy path and slid the stone that way across China.
Impressive.
Sunday, 19 October 2014
Un peu de langue de Moliere
Je m'excuse d'avance, j'ai pas les accents sur ma tablette!
19/09/14
Ca fait bizarre d'ecrire dans un cahier, en lettres attachees en plus, mais bon! J'ai ignore les lecteurs francos trop longtemps.
Alors voici:
Beijing... le dragon d'Asie. Il m'a bien mordu, cet ancien dragon.
Hier, apres un reve assez bizarre merci, je me reveille a 4h du matin. J'ai profite du wi-fi chancelant pour ecouter quelques episodes de Attack on Titan (pas si pire) et lire un peu. J'ecoute la ville se reveiller lentement au travers de ma petite fenetre. Pas de coqs qui hurlent comme aux Philippines et Laos, mais des klaxons... Tant de klaxons.
Tout le monde vit dans des petites maisons cubiques grises en ciment, avec un toit en tuiles chinoises classiques. Ca fait plutot pauvre, mais on dirait que tout le monde a une voiture. Car dans une petite rue plus large tout proche d'ici, il y a des autos a n'en plus finir. Stationnees de par-choque a par-choque, 3 de large, 6 de profond.
Et bon, le matin, il faut que ca sorte! Alors BEEP BEEP BEEEEEEEEP ca sonne jusqu'a ce que tout le monde soit en chemin, avant 7am.
Mais ne vous laissez pas confondre par mon texte! Le klaxon est un outil essentiel a la conduite, en plus il vient avec le vehicule. En effet, il sert a signaler a la bicyclette en avant qu'elle est trop lente (ce qui n'y change absolument rien), si l'auto sur le cote de la rue prend trop de place (elle ne bougera jamais), si il y a des gens dans le chemin pendant un signale pour pietons (ca marche sur les etrangers), si je m'apprete a depasser, si je suis derriere quelqu'un, si je suis dans un angle mort, si je vais vite... en plus des klaxons-signaux auxquels je n'attribue aucune utilitee whatsoever.
Apres mon reveille enchanteur, hop! C'est le temps du pti-dej.
McDo, meme pas honte.
Ensuite, bapteme du metro a 8h am. J'ai une mission: me rendre dans l'ouest de la ville pour aller brasser des affaires dans un centre d'achats entierement pour cameras.
Pour votre benefice bien sur, chers lecteurs.
Surprennant, c'est pas trop complique. D'abord, soumettre son sac a une passe X-Ray. Y'a un policier qui se promene avec un BOSTAFF (le baton de Donatello!). Ensuite, le comptoir a tickets. La femme en uniforme et tres serieuse ne parle que chinois mais pointe sur la vitre, le signe "¥" suivit d'un 2.
40 sous le metro!
Bien sur, j'etais empile parmis tant de chinoix, plus tasse que je ne l'ai jamais ete a montreal, mais c'etait quand meme plus propre que dans la rue et personne chialait.
On me regarde sans trop se gener. Tattoos, barbe, etranger. Plein de points!
Mon epopee vers le centre de camera ne fut pas la plus brillante. En sortant du metro je me fit a la mediocre excuse de soleil que le smog nous laisse avir pour determiner le nord.
Le Japon, c'est le pays du soleil levant, ou couchant?
Et ca se couche de quel bord, un soleil?
Quel voyageur exceptionnel. Parfait moment pour avoir un blanc.
En tout cas, j'avais bien choisit.
Sauf que j'ai devie trop vite en voyant un centre d'achats. Longeant une espece d'aire libre immense et poussiereuse ou un chinois age s'amuse avec un avion teleguide, un autre avec un cerf-volant, je me retrouve au pied d'un centre d'achats pour ultra-riches. J'y entre.
Wi-fi et toilettes, pour faire le vide et m'orienter.
Je suis loooooin de ma destination! Sur la carte, encore une fois, ca avait l'air si proche. Montreal est si petite.
En sortant, j'essaie de lire le nom des rues et de les trouver sur ma carte, elle aussi en chinois. Les jeux videos m'ont prepare on dirait, je triangule (Si t'as joue a Myst, t'as une longueur d'avance)
Par contre, le resultat: je marche en rond pendant 45 minutes.
Les voyages, c'est pas seulement la biere pas chere et les belles rencontres...
Pour en faire une histoire plus courte j'ai finalement atteint ma destination, ou tout les magasins annoncent Nikon et Canon, des fois mal ecrit, et tout le monde porte un chandail rouge "officiel" Canon.
Apres avoir marchande un peu et achete une Gopro je retourne vers mon hotel.
Je debarque du metro une station plus tot "pour voir la ville" et je me perd pour une autre heure. Sur la carte, c'est que de beaux boulevards bien droits...
En vrai, entre les boulevards y'a rues, ruelles, chemins, couloirs, tous sinuants entre petites maisons grises et petits magasins de cigarettes et boissons, tous identiques.
Une autre heure plus tard et je reconnais finalement mon coin. J'arrive finalement chez moi... je sens mon coeur battre dans mes pieds, j'ai soif, j'ai faim.
En me perdant toute la journee par contre j'ai pu observer le petit quotidien chinois.
-Un gros chat blanc tout sale se prelasse sur une pile de dechets.
-Un petit garcon en trycicle s'arrete soundainement et me pointe, tout surpris, la bouche grande ouverte. Je lui envoi la main et sa maman me sourit en lui disant de me dire "helloooo".
-Des retraites se gardent en forme dans de petits parcs remplis de petites machines d'entrainement, en metal, peinturees jaune et bleue.
-Un petit groupe de vieux jouent une chanson traditionnelle sous un viaduc, assis sur des blocs de ciment.
-Des memes, assises sur leurs tabourets de chaque bord de la ruelle jacassent bruyement, une petite flaque de crachat a leur pieds.
-Dans le metro, un tattoue a la coupe d'Elvis et un chandail Ed Hardy et sa copine regardent mes tattouages et me donnent leur accord. C'est de bonne qualite. Ils aiment particulierement mes squelettes et cranes.
(Blog mit a jour directement d'une petite ile a Ha Long Bay, Vietnam. J'en reviens pas qu'ils ont le Wi-Fi jusqu'ici!
19/09/14
Ca fait bizarre d'ecrire dans un cahier, en lettres attachees en plus, mais bon! J'ai ignore les lecteurs francos trop longtemps.
Alors voici:
Beijing... le dragon d'Asie. Il m'a bien mordu, cet ancien dragon.
Hier, apres un reve assez bizarre merci, je me reveille a 4h du matin. J'ai profite du wi-fi chancelant pour ecouter quelques episodes de Attack on Titan (pas si pire) et lire un peu. J'ecoute la ville se reveiller lentement au travers de ma petite fenetre. Pas de coqs qui hurlent comme aux Philippines et Laos, mais des klaxons... Tant de klaxons.
Tout le monde vit dans des petites maisons cubiques grises en ciment, avec un toit en tuiles chinoises classiques. Ca fait plutot pauvre, mais on dirait que tout le monde a une voiture. Car dans une petite rue plus large tout proche d'ici, il y a des autos a n'en plus finir. Stationnees de par-choque a par-choque, 3 de large, 6 de profond.
Et bon, le matin, il faut que ca sorte! Alors BEEP BEEP BEEEEEEEEP ca sonne jusqu'a ce que tout le monde soit en chemin, avant 7am.
Mais ne vous laissez pas confondre par mon texte! Le klaxon est un outil essentiel a la conduite, en plus il vient avec le vehicule. En effet, il sert a signaler a la bicyclette en avant qu'elle est trop lente (ce qui n'y change absolument rien), si l'auto sur le cote de la rue prend trop de place (elle ne bougera jamais), si il y a des gens dans le chemin pendant un signale pour pietons (ca marche sur les etrangers), si je m'apprete a depasser, si je suis derriere quelqu'un, si je suis dans un angle mort, si je vais vite... en plus des klaxons-signaux auxquels je n'attribue aucune utilitee whatsoever.
Apres mon reveille enchanteur, hop! C'est le temps du pti-dej.
McDo, meme pas honte.
Ensuite, bapteme du metro a 8h am. J'ai une mission: me rendre dans l'ouest de la ville pour aller brasser des affaires dans un centre d'achats entierement pour cameras.
Pour votre benefice bien sur, chers lecteurs.
Surprennant, c'est pas trop complique. D'abord, soumettre son sac a une passe X-Ray. Y'a un policier qui se promene avec un BOSTAFF (le baton de Donatello!). Ensuite, le comptoir a tickets. La femme en uniforme et tres serieuse ne parle que chinois mais pointe sur la vitre, le signe "¥" suivit d'un 2.
40 sous le metro!
Bien sur, j'etais empile parmis tant de chinoix, plus tasse que je ne l'ai jamais ete a montreal, mais c'etait quand meme plus propre que dans la rue et personne chialait.
On me regarde sans trop se gener. Tattoos, barbe, etranger. Plein de points!
Mon epopee vers le centre de camera ne fut pas la plus brillante. En sortant du metro je me fit a la mediocre excuse de soleil que le smog nous laisse avir pour determiner le nord.
Le Japon, c'est le pays du soleil levant, ou couchant?
Et ca se couche de quel bord, un soleil?
Quel voyageur exceptionnel. Parfait moment pour avoir un blanc.
En tout cas, j'avais bien choisit.
Sauf que j'ai devie trop vite en voyant un centre d'achats. Longeant une espece d'aire libre immense et poussiereuse ou un chinois age s'amuse avec un avion teleguide, un autre avec un cerf-volant, je me retrouve au pied d'un centre d'achats pour ultra-riches. J'y entre.
Wi-fi et toilettes, pour faire le vide et m'orienter.
Je suis loooooin de ma destination! Sur la carte, encore une fois, ca avait l'air si proche. Montreal est si petite.
En sortant, j'essaie de lire le nom des rues et de les trouver sur ma carte, elle aussi en chinois. Les jeux videos m'ont prepare on dirait, je triangule (Si t'as joue a Myst, t'as une longueur d'avance)
Par contre, le resultat: je marche en rond pendant 45 minutes.
Les voyages, c'est pas seulement la biere pas chere et les belles rencontres...
Pour en faire une histoire plus courte j'ai finalement atteint ma destination, ou tout les magasins annoncent Nikon et Canon, des fois mal ecrit, et tout le monde porte un chandail rouge "officiel" Canon.
Apres avoir marchande un peu et achete une Gopro je retourne vers mon hotel.
Je debarque du metro une station plus tot "pour voir la ville" et je me perd pour une autre heure. Sur la carte, c'est que de beaux boulevards bien droits...
En vrai, entre les boulevards y'a rues, ruelles, chemins, couloirs, tous sinuants entre petites maisons grises et petits magasins de cigarettes et boissons, tous identiques.
Une autre heure plus tard et je reconnais finalement mon coin. J'arrive finalement chez moi... je sens mon coeur battre dans mes pieds, j'ai soif, j'ai faim.
En me perdant toute la journee par contre j'ai pu observer le petit quotidien chinois.
-Un gros chat blanc tout sale se prelasse sur une pile de dechets.
-Un petit garcon en trycicle s'arrete soundainement et me pointe, tout surpris, la bouche grande ouverte. Je lui envoi la main et sa maman me sourit en lui disant de me dire "helloooo".
-Des retraites se gardent en forme dans de petits parcs remplis de petites machines d'entrainement, en metal, peinturees jaune et bleue.
-Un petit groupe de vieux jouent une chanson traditionnelle sous un viaduc, assis sur des blocs de ciment.
-Des memes, assises sur leurs tabourets de chaque bord de la ruelle jacassent bruyement, une petite flaque de crachat a leur pieds.
-Dans le metro, un tattoue a la coupe d'Elvis et un chandail Ed Hardy et sa copine regardent mes tattouages et me donnent leur accord. C'est de bonne qualite. Ils aiment particulierement mes squelettes et cranes.
(Blog mit a jour directement d'une petite ile a Ha Long Bay, Vietnam. J'en reviens pas qu'ils ont le Wi-Fi jusqu'ici!
Monday, 25 August 2014
Canada-UK fool
As part of a small project in continuity I'll post a picture of what I look like on my passport versus what I look like at the border. Here goes, the first Fool Pic (Canada - UK):
Friday, 15 August 2014
Inventory: Starting Point
I've seen these things on reddit and other travelling websites and always thought they were cool. Also, on my last trip, my inventory list RPG-style was one of the most popular posts.
So here's mine, at starting point. More or less accurate, with a list, details, tips following!
Just click here!
(Sorry for potato quality)
We'll start from the top left, since this is how I read (probably how you read too. If not, holy shit! I have exotic readers! Or people who read way too many mangas).
1- Rainproof/windproof Camo jacket. I bought this in Chiang Mai, Thailand, for $10. There's nothing to keep me warm in there, it's pretty much just plastic. I love it, it weights nothing.
2- Black "meh" hoodie. I try to keep my black clothes to a minimum because I don't think that they separate laundry types in hostels and the likes, but I don't have a colour hoodie (at least if I have everything in colour they can just throw everything in the same load with minimum impact). I also bought this shirt for the sole reason that it would be hilarious to have a shirt that says "meh" when you're pictured in front of medieval castles or jaw-dropping scenery. I don't expect to wear it often in asia but it should come in handy in England and during cold wet-season nights (had some pretty cold ones in Laos last time).
3- Boxers. Nothing special about them, except that they're coloured and not 100% cotton. Try not to wear 100% cotton underwear as you can start chaffing when in warm countries. That can lead to heavy discomfort and in some cases, itchy fungus between the thighs (they call it athlete's crotch). I also met a dude that was sweating heavily from the buttcrack and a mushroom developed there! SUPER itchy and hurtful apparently. He had to apply a cream 3 times a day and sleep with no underwear on. Both of these things can be quite annoying when you sleep in dorms. He couldn't go anywhere so he lounged at the Hostel for weeks, losing precious travel time. I promised to not tell anyone so no, I won't tell you who it was.
4- Green and Red bandana headbands. I can't get over how useful these were last time around. I will probably buy more of them as I like collecting them. They're great wrapped around your forehead for sweat. Too hot? Dip them in cold water and wear them around your head or neck to cool down. Too sunny? Wear them ON your head! Some drunk guy in your dorm is walking around with the lights on? Pull it down over your eyes! It also served me as impromptu plate, book protector, or wrapped around a fresh tattoo to keep the sunlight off. They take minimum space and weight nothing. Love 'em.
5- Green Marley tanktop. A gift from Ben. Originally purchased in Thailand, passed on to me in Laos.
6- Long-sleeve button shirt. It's warm but you can pull up the sleeves or open it up when it's warmer. Sometimes you just want to keep the sun off your skin. I might end up throwing it out but I doubt it. Fun fact: apparently it looks exactly like my friend's dad's shirt that HE wore around the world, more than 30 years ago.
7- Swimsuit. On my last trip I took an old one which ended up ripping at the spot you don't want it ripping at. The 2nd one, I bought during my last trip. It was fugly and the net was giving my parts a rash. The 3rd one I bought was stolen. The 4th one was too big but I would still wear a lot, it's a great excuse to go commando when it gets REALLY hot. The one on the picture is nice quality, great size. A nice swimsuit is important, folks!
Back to the left, 2nd row:
8- Jeans. I might end up throwing these out or making shorts out of them. Last time I brought them and didn't wear them AT ALL. They are hot, and heavy. I will wear them in England though and that is why they are going in my bag at the start of my trip. They can be useful when visiting sacred sites, however, as sometimes they don't let you walk in wearing shorts. Useful at border crossings too - for me anyways - because they let me dissimulate my leg tattoos. Les tattoos = less questions.
9- Montreal Canadiens pyjama pants. I might end up throwing these away. It's mostly comfort stuff and to make sure I don't freeze at night in bamboo huts. Can also double as warmer garment if I'm hiking in cold mountains (what I plan to do in China).
10,11- More underwear. 3 pairs in total, the maximum I will allow myself to carry in total during this trip. I tend to wear these 2 days in a row and go commando or wear my swimsuit when it's laundry day.
Right underneath the headbands. 12- Black winter hat. You never know.
Underneath that, and then to the right:
13- Red Belt. In the buckle is a bottle opener, super useful. Last time I had a leather belt with holes but my weight fluctuated a lot (lost 50 pounds in total) so this adjustable belt is better for me.
14- Montreal Canadiens T-shirt. It's getting old so I don't mind throwing it out at some point but it'll remind me of home. Also a conversation starter.
15- Black dress pants. These are for the British wedding. I might keep them instead of the jeans since they are lighter. They are less durable however and I don't know how they will fare against hostel washing machines (on my last trip the t-shirts I started with lost ALL colours over time. That is also why you shouldn't bring fancy clothes or ones that mean something to you. I lost one of my favourite band shirts like that). I was also invited to a lot of Laos weddings on my last trip and I plan on staying there 6 months this time around so they should be useful, as you shouldn't wear shorts to a wedding (even if on a small, super laid-back island) and jeans can get hot.
16- Brown shorts. I bought sturdy black shorts for the trip but the buttons keep falling off. I don't want to have to deal with that over there. I still have my trusty camo shorts from the last trip but they go down to half my tibias. These brown shorts go just below the knee. Less fabric means it'll be less warm. The shorts also pretty old so I don't mind throwing them away when they get ripped. I found them in a box of my brother's old clothes when I moved back to my parents.
Under that:
17- Black dress shirt. I'm invited to a wedding in England and that's the shirt I will be wearing, I don't feel like renting a suit or wearing somebody else's shirt. I will probably keep it for museum and temple visits or when I feel like hiding my tattoos or looking nice, to make a better impression on the locals.
Back to the left! From here, it'll be more of a vertical flow.
18- Blue sunglasses. Last time in Laos I bought 40 pairs of these sweet fake Raybens to sell when I'd get back home. I'd carry a few pairs with me and sell them to my friends in order to have money for beers. I also went through 4 pairs (the pink ones) while landscaping, they were my protective eyewear. This is the last surviving pair.
19- Under the glasses are a small notebook, a bigger notebook and a sketchpad. They take a LOT of room but I'm going to be doing most of my writing in these. I plan to be less "connected" to Bragbook and the internet in general this time around, these will help me stay off computers.
20,21- Headlamps. They use AA batteries. SUPER useful. You can read with them in the bus, overnight train, bamboo hut with no electricity, etc. I'm bringing two pairs in case one breaks and for impromptu buddies.
Underneath that:
22- Pens, pencils, crayons. Like I said, I plan to write a lot but also draw, sketch.
23,24- Sharpeners and erasers. I will probably just bring 2 sharpeners and chuck all these in a tupperware.
25- Red necklace wallet. I don't know how else to call that. Super useful. Put your money and emergency info in there. Also harder to get pick-pocketed. Last time around I pretty much walked around with my money right in my pockets and ended up "losing" a few bills at a jungle dance. Not pictured: waterproof neck wallet. Bought it in Bangkok during the water festival for something like 15 cents. It's transparent so people can see how much money you got in there, which I don't like, but your passport fits, which is great when in airports and the likes. Easy access, ya know?
26- Books on Laos language. Half of my trip will be spent on Don Det and I plan to be able to speak Lao by the time I'm done. Also necessary for a future project involving Laos.
27- Stormtrooper with removable helmet. This little dude was with me last time around! I had a plan to photograph him in front of famous landscapes but felt kind of silly when I was trying to position it in front of a temple with the monks pointing and laughing at me. He is the one pictured in the background of this very blog! Great at following orders, not so great at aiming. Yes, he's a little short.
28- Playing cards. I thought about bringing Settlers of Catan: travel edition or Cards Against Humanity in order to make friends in hostels (everyone's on their iPads/laptops! So boring) but the weight and size threw me off. You can also learn new games with a simple playing cards (Germans know tonnes of drinking games).
29- Asia iPod charger. I got this in Bangkok since the last one I owned burned out due to the power outage difference. I hope it still works.
30- Damaged iPod with earphones and cord. This little buddy was my favourite tool on my last trip. Internet access, camera, music player. It did fine for 6 months across Asia but I smashed it when I was back in Canada and didn't bother repairing it. It still works fine, I just can't play games on it any more, which is kind of a good thing.
31- World power socket adaptor. I can plug anything into anything with this, super useful. Kind of heavy though, sometimes it falls out of flimsy sockets.
32- Portable speaker. Not very loud but still fun when you want to have some ambiance, like music in a hostel bedroom. Instant party! Trust me. It's also rechargeable so no need to worry about batteries. I bought this at the Russian Market in Phnom Penh for $6 on my last trip.
33- Rolled solar power charger. I bought this thinking it was a great idea. I would charge my electronics with it to avoid burning them with the power outage difference. After a few tests I realised that it takes about 12 hours of sun to be fully charged and it only charges my Kindle for about 15%. Not a great trade-off... I will probably charge it under my room windows when I'm out during the day and keep the energy for Kindle power if I'm somewhere with no electricity and I feel like reading. It's super light and small so I don't feel bad about bringing something I might use.
34- Earplugs. Super useful in dorms or when sleeping in rooms with paper-thin walls where you can hear party tourists fucking each other loudly (yup) or locals up at 5 am going about their business. Or in buses, trains, planes, you get the idea. Sleep is sleep.
35- Kindle Fire HD + plugs. So happy with this. My dad's birthday gift. Last time I was carrying around the Game of Thrones books, which ended up taking a LOT of space and were pretty heavy. I would mail them home when I finished them. I should have just left them in hostels but they are SO GOOD. This Kindle is loaded with travel guides (I know, I said to stay away from these but they ARE useful) and books I've always wanted to read like Isaac Asimov's Foundation series and the Chronicles of Narnia. It's also great for the internet and I can store videos on it. Entertainment is great when you find yourself alone for extended amounts of time. With this, no dealing with space and weight consuming books! Merci papa!
36- Beer opener. I already have one on my belt, this one is for Ken at One More Bar.
37- Old Passport. I'm bringing this one out of paranoia, I really don't know why.
38- Peroxide. Part of the first-aid kit.
39- Comb. I plan on letting my hair grow. Just because you're travelling doesn't mean you should let yourself go and look like a slob. I saw people walk out of tin-roof sheds looking like a million bucks in the Philippines. Asians seem to judge people a lot based on their appearance and being accepted by them is very important to me. So, look clean buddy! Not pictured: nail clipper, scissors for beard trimming.
40- Webber cream. I have fresh tattoos that require attention and I also plan on getting tattooed over there. this is my favourite healing cream.
41- Echinacea pills. Will be transferred into a ziplock to save space. Great for general health, natural product. Not pictured: Gatorade powder packages. When you start feeling weak, drink this with your morning water. It's great.
42- Ninja Turtles band-aids. Also other band-aids of different sizes and shape in the box. Will be transferred into ziplock to protect from water.
43- Toothbrush. Last time I was carrying it in a ziplock and it got all gross from leftover toothpaste. This time I got the cool little head-box, should be cleaner.
44- Deodorant. Yo, you get stinky when you're sweating constantly. That stuff was surprisingly pricey over there. It was on special at the store so I got what I think should last me for a year.
55- Soap Box. Same deal as the toothbrush, last time I was carrying it in a ziplock and it got all gross.
56- Tiny towel. Don't forget to bring a towel! Most places include a shower in the room but no complimentary towels. Also, small equals less space used and shorter time to dry.
57- Tiny facecloth. I don't even use facecloth at home, this will be used for my feet. Last time around, after 2 months walking in flip-flops my feet got super dirty, dry and started cracking. It was super painful! The Thai doctor instructed me to just take better care of them and I felt like a fool. A good clean-up to remove the dirt in the shower did the trick and I had no problems thereafter!
Not pictured:
Baseball hat, great for shadow.
I will purchase a camera in Beijing.
My shoes.
Hope this was sort of entertaining and the tips made some sort of sense!
So here's mine, at starting point. More or less accurate, with a list, details, tips following!
(Sorry for potato quality)
We'll start from the top left, since this is how I read (probably how you read too. If not, holy shit! I have exotic readers! Or people who read way too many mangas).
1- Rainproof/windproof Camo jacket. I bought this in Chiang Mai, Thailand, for $10. There's nothing to keep me warm in there, it's pretty much just plastic. I love it, it weights nothing.
2- Black "meh" hoodie. I try to keep my black clothes to a minimum because I don't think that they separate laundry types in hostels and the likes, but I don't have a colour hoodie (at least if I have everything in colour they can just throw everything in the same load with minimum impact). I also bought this shirt for the sole reason that it would be hilarious to have a shirt that says "meh" when you're pictured in front of medieval castles or jaw-dropping scenery. I don't expect to wear it often in asia but it should come in handy in England and during cold wet-season nights (had some pretty cold ones in Laos last time).
3- Boxers. Nothing special about them, except that they're coloured and not 100% cotton. Try not to wear 100% cotton underwear as you can start chaffing when in warm countries. That can lead to heavy discomfort and in some cases, itchy fungus between the thighs (they call it athlete's crotch). I also met a dude that was sweating heavily from the buttcrack and a mushroom developed there! SUPER itchy and hurtful apparently. He had to apply a cream 3 times a day and sleep with no underwear on. Both of these things can be quite annoying when you sleep in dorms. He couldn't go anywhere so he lounged at the Hostel for weeks, losing precious travel time. I promised to not tell anyone so no, I won't tell you who it was.
4- Green and Red bandana headbands. I can't get over how useful these were last time around. I will probably buy more of them as I like collecting them. They're great wrapped around your forehead for sweat. Too hot? Dip them in cold water and wear them around your head or neck to cool down. Too sunny? Wear them ON your head! Some drunk guy in your dorm is walking around with the lights on? Pull it down over your eyes! It also served me as impromptu plate, book protector, or wrapped around a fresh tattoo to keep the sunlight off. They take minimum space and weight nothing. Love 'em.
5- Green Marley tanktop. A gift from Ben. Originally purchased in Thailand, passed on to me in Laos.
6- Long-sleeve button shirt. It's warm but you can pull up the sleeves or open it up when it's warmer. Sometimes you just want to keep the sun off your skin. I might end up throwing it out but I doubt it. Fun fact: apparently it looks exactly like my friend's dad's shirt that HE wore around the world, more than 30 years ago.
7- Swimsuit. On my last trip I took an old one which ended up ripping at the spot you don't want it ripping at. The 2nd one, I bought during my last trip. It was fugly and the net was giving my parts a rash. The 3rd one I bought was stolen. The 4th one was too big but I would still wear a lot, it's a great excuse to go commando when it gets REALLY hot. The one on the picture is nice quality, great size. A nice swimsuit is important, folks!
Back to the left, 2nd row:
8- Jeans. I might end up throwing these out or making shorts out of them. Last time I brought them and didn't wear them AT ALL. They are hot, and heavy. I will wear them in England though and that is why they are going in my bag at the start of my trip. They can be useful when visiting sacred sites, however, as sometimes they don't let you walk in wearing shorts. Useful at border crossings too - for me anyways - because they let me dissimulate my leg tattoos. Les tattoos = less questions.
9- Montreal Canadiens pyjama pants. I might end up throwing these away. It's mostly comfort stuff and to make sure I don't freeze at night in bamboo huts. Can also double as warmer garment if I'm hiking in cold mountains (what I plan to do in China).
10,11- More underwear. 3 pairs in total, the maximum I will allow myself to carry in total during this trip. I tend to wear these 2 days in a row and go commando or wear my swimsuit when it's laundry day.
Right underneath the headbands. 12- Black winter hat. You never know.
Underneath that, and then to the right:
13- Red Belt. In the buckle is a bottle opener, super useful. Last time I had a leather belt with holes but my weight fluctuated a lot (lost 50 pounds in total) so this adjustable belt is better for me.
14- Montreal Canadiens T-shirt. It's getting old so I don't mind throwing it out at some point but it'll remind me of home. Also a conversation starter.
15- Black dress pants. These are for the British wedding. I might keep them instead of the jeans since they are lighter. They are less durable however and I don't know how they will fare against hostel washing machines (on my last trip the t-shirts I started with lost ALL colours over time. That is also why you shouldn't bring fancy clothes or ones that mean something to you. I lost one of my favourite band shirts like that). I was also invited to a lot of Laos weddings on my last trip and I plan on staying there 6 months this time around so they should be useful, as you shouldn't wear shorts to a wedding (even if on a small, super laid-back island) and jeans can get hot.
16- Brown shorts. I bought sturdy black shorts for the trip but the buttons keep falling off. I don't want to have to deal with that over there. I still have my trusty camo shorts from the last trip but they go down to half my tibias. These brown shorts go just below the knee. Less fabric means it'll be less warm. The shorts also pretty old so I don't mind throwing them away when they get ripped. I found them in a box of my brother's old clothes when I moved back to my parents.
Under that:
17- Black dress shirt. I'm invited to a wedding in England and that's the shirt I will be wearing, I don't feel like renting a suit or wearing somebody else's shirt. I will probably keep it for museum and temple visits or when I feel like hiding my tattoos or looking nice, to make a better impression on the locals.
Back to the left! From here, it'll be more of a vertical flow.
18- Blue sunglasses. Last time in Laos I bought 40 pairs of these sweet fake Raybens to sell when I'd get back home. I'd carry a few pairs with me and sell them to my friends in order to have money for beers. I also went through 4 pairs (the pink ones) while landscaping, they were my protective eyewear. This is the last surviving pair.
19- Under the glasses are a small notebook, a bigger notebook and a sketchpad. They take a LOT of room but I'm going to be doing most of my writing in these. I plan to be less "connected" to Bragbook and the internet in general this time around, these will help me stay off computers.
20,21- Headlamps. They use AA batteries. SUPER useful. You can read with them in the bus, overnight train, bamboo hut with no electricity, etc. I'm bringing two pairs in case one breaks and for impromptu buddies.
Underneath that:
22- Pens, pencils, crayons. Like I said, I plan to write a lot but also draw, sketch.
23,24- Sharpeners and erasers. I will probably just bring 2 sharpeners and chuck all these in a tupperware.
25- Red necklace wallet. I don't know how else to call that. Super useful. Put your money and emergency info in there. Also harder to get pick-pocketed. Last time around I pretty much walked around with my money right in my pockets and ended up "losing" a few bills at a jungle dance. Not pictured: waterproof neck wallet. Bought it in Bangkok during the water festival for something like 15 cents. It's transparent so people can see how much money you got in there, which I don't like, but your passport fits, which is great when in airports and the likes. Easy access, ya know?
26- Books on Laos language. Half of my trip will be spent on Don Det and I plan to be able to speak Lao by the time I'm done. Also necessary for a future project involving Laos.
27- Stormtrooper with removable helmet. This little dude was with me last time around! I had a plan to photograph him in front of famous landscapes but felt kind of silly when I was trying to position it in front of a temple with the monks pointing and laughing at me. He is the one pictured in the background of this very blog! Great at following orders, not so great at aiming. Yes, he's a little short.
28- Playing cards. I thought about bringing Settlers of Catan: travel edition or Cards Against Humanity in order to make friends in hostels (everyone's on their iPads/laptops! So boring) but the weight and size threw me off. You can also learn new games with a simple playing cards (Germans know tonnes of drinking games).
29- Asia iPod charger. I got this in Bangkok since the last one I owned burned out due to the power outage difference. I hope it still works.
30- Damaged iPod with earphones and cord. This little buddy was my favourite tool on my last trip. Internet access, camera, music player. It did fine for 6 months across Asia but I smashed it when I was back in Canada and didn't bother repairing it. It still works fine, I just can't play games on it any more, which is kind of a good thing.
31- World power socket adaptor. I can plug anything into anything with this, super useful. Kind of heavy though, sometimes it falls out of flimsy sockets.
32- Portable speaker. Not very loud but still fun when you want to have some ambiance, like music in a hostel bedroom. Instant party! Trust me. It's also rechargeable so no need to worry about batteries. I bought this at the Russian Market in Phnom Penh for $6 on my last trip.
33- Rolled solar power charger. I bought this thinking it was a great idea. I would charge my electronics with it to avoid burning them with the power outage difference. After a few tests I realised that it takes about 12 hours of sun to be fully charged and it only charges my Kindle for about 15%. Not a great trade-off... I will probably charge it under my room windows when I'm out during the day and keep the energy for Kindle power if I'm somewhere with no electricity and I feel like reading. It's super light and small so I don't feel bad about bringing something I might use.
34- Earplugs. Super useful in dorms or when sleeping in rooms with paper-thin walls where you can hear party tourists fucking each other loudly (yup) or locals up at 5 am going about their business. Or in buses, trains, planes, you get the idea. Sleep is sleep.
35- Kindle Fire HD + plugs. So happy with this. My dad's birthday gift. Last time I was carrying around the Game of Thrones books, which ended up taking a LOT of space and were pretty heavy. I would mail them home when I finished them. I should have just left them in hostels but they are SO GOOD. This Kindle is loaded with travel guides (I know, I said to stay away from these but they ARE useful) and books I've always wanted to read like Isaac Asimov's Foundation series and the Chronicles of Narnia. It's also great for the internet and I can store videos on it. Entertainment is great when you find yourself alone for extended amounts of time. With this, no dealing with space and weight consuming books! Merci papa!
36- Beer opener. I already have one on my belt, this one is for Ken at One More Bar.
37- Old Passport. I'm bringing this one out of paranoia, I really don't know why.
38- Peroxide. Part of the first-aid kit.
39- Comb. I plan on letting my hair grow. Just because you're travelling doesn't mean you should let yourself go and look like a slob. I saw people walk out of tin-roof sheds looking like a million bucks in the Philippines. Asians seem to judge people a lot based on their appearance and being accepted by them is very important to me. So, look clean buddy! Not pictured: nail clipper, scissors for beard trimming.
40- Webber cream. I have fresh tattoos that require attention and I also plan on getting tattooed over there. this is my favourite healing cream.
41- Echinacea pills. Will be transferred into a ziplock to save space. Great for general health, natural product. Not pictured: Gatorade powder packages. When you start feeling weak, drink this with your morning water. It's great.
42- Ninja Turtles band-aids. Also other band-aids of different sizes and shape in the box. Will be transferred into ziplock to protect from water.
43- Toothbrush. Last time I was carrying it in a ziplock and it got all gross from leftover toothpaste. This time I got the cool little head-box, should be cleaner.
44- Deodorant. Yo, you get stinky when you're sweating constantly. That stuff was surprisingly pricey over there. It was on special at the store so I got what I think should last me for a year.
55- Soap Box. Same deal as the toothbrush, last time I was carrying it in a ziplock and it got all gross.
56- Tiny towel. Don't forget to bring a towel! Most places include a shower in the room but no complimentary towels. Also, small equals less space used and shorter time to dry.
57- Tiny facecloth. I don't even use facecloth at home, this will be used for my feet. Last time around, after 2 months walking in flip-flops my feet got super dirty, dry and started cracking. It was super painful! The Thai doctor instructed me to just take better care of them and I felt like a fool. A good clean-up to remove the dirt in the shower did the trick and I had no problems thereafter!
Not pictured:
Baseball hat, great for shadow.
I will purchase a camera in Beijing.
My shoes.
Hope this was sort of entertaining and the tips made some sort of sense!
Tuesday, 12 August 2014
One for the Road? Season 2 Teaser
True to the tradition, here’s a little description of my
environment.
I’m writing to you in my parents’ backyard, a nice little apartment
on a quiet street in NDG, near bars and restaurants. I am in the shade, under
this dome of vines, with my foot petting the family dog sleeping under the table. The air is fresh and construction not too far from here breaks the
silence and the birds’ melody (and my concentration, already pretty feeble).
Good morning, good evening dear friends. I know, I know, it’s
been a while since I’ve written. The reason is simple: Route means Road and
since my return last year, I’m pretty sedentary. Also, I found myself writing heavy
stuff. Sad stories, bitching… it’s depressing! This is not how I viewed the
blog when I started it almost 2 years ago!
I decided to wait, to exercise patience, and to get back at
it only when I felt ready. I was expecting to lose a few dedicated readers, what
with not being any updates for months at a time.
Now D day is approaching, the first step on a path that I am
undertaking without any maps, kind of like last time. This time however, I do
have a few objectives in sights. We’ll talk about it another time.
Some details: since I’ve been back last April, I’ve been
sorta quiet. I had a plan in mind: pay off my debts (plane tickets bought on
credit cards) as fast as I could, work like a maniac, not spend a dime, and be
gone before winter. I gave myself 6 months to respect a promise made to Mr.
Ken, my Laos brother.
Today I look back at this and laugh… it wasn’t a very
realistic goal!
Oh well. 16 months after my return and I’m finally ready to leave.
To everyone who have nomadic friends, and who are telling them: “You’re lucky,
you can leave whenever you can, you’re free!”… Well, it’s not done with luck,
it’s done with willpower. I stayed at my parents 6 out of the 16 months in
Québec (being 30 years old, it kind of hurts your ego). I rented small rooms. I
worked 3 jobs in an industry I’ve never worked in before. I slept alone in 7
different rooms. I sold some of my stuff and stopped myself from buying new
stuff. I was a little bit more quiet than usual, I became a little bit more
grumpy than in the past. I think I grew apart from my friends a little bit, but
it’s finally done: the budget is reached, my minimal preparations complete. I’m
ready to go.
I heard a few times – more often than last time – questions like
why am I leaving again, why am I going to the same spots, what don’t I like
here, have you thought about your future? WHADAYAWANNA DO IN LIFE?
Well, yes, of course I think about it. I can’t sleep at
night because of it.
Thinking about it, the moment I’ve been the most happy in my
life was during these 6 months exiled, up until when I came back - too early
for my taste – because of small health issues. I don’t know if it’s my ego
talking, but I just have to go back, and do it even bigger this time.
I must admit that I am pretty jealous of legendary Bruno
Blanchet, with his books, upcoming tv show, poutine restaurant in Bangkok (he’ll
tell you it’s not his, but still!)
To stay motivated with my budget goals I took my dear
British friends’ date of wedding as the main goal, these friends whom I met in Chiang Mai, Thailand – with who
I travelled for 3 months and with who I connected so seamlessly. I would tell
myself, if I’m happy here, I’ll go to the wedding and spend 2 weeks in England
and I’ll come back. If I don’t feel like staying home, I’ll buy a one-way
ticket for London and we’ll see from there.
To me, it’s no use obsessing over a
single goal. Life changes, people change, we change. Better to adapt than to
dig in.
Next, I explored other options. I obtained a work visa for
New Zealand. I thought about moving somewhere else in Canada. I almost invested in a
small restaurant. All sort of things but in the end, with my shifting mental
health I decided that finishing the trip I started 2 years ago was the best
solution.
So here’s the conclusion: I have a one-way ticket for Leeds,
in the north of the British Empire, where reside Jen & Ben. I will be there
for 3 weeks. Then, 1 ticket one-way from London to Beijing, where I will be
stocking up on gadgets compatible with the power outage of Asia (cameras are
cheaper as well). From there I will be making my way towards Vietnam in the
south, where I am planning on buying a motorbike that I will ride all the way
to Malaysia, all the while writing to you. Because even it’s just a small
project, Bière de Route, the tiny blog started clumsily on a bench park of
Mont-Royal street is what gave me the most satisfaction up until now. I can’t
share with you the nice messages people wrote to me, encouraging me and
thanking me but it pushes me to keep going, to make it better.
That’s the basics, open to change. I can’t wait.
Before
like that however, there’s going to be a nice BBQ in Parc Lafontaine, Saturday
the 16th of August, so don’t be shy and come grill some hot-dogs and
down a few cold ones!
See you soon!
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