I had a great time in Byron Bay but it is always important to keep rolling. So up I traveled towards the sun. That's north in this part of the world - and eventually a small town called Noosa. And very nice it is too. I was recommended a place called Dolphins, but it was full when I arrived so I had to settle for a couple of nights at the local YHA. Noosa's YHA is supposedly one of the best around; it's a lovely building and the staff are friendly. But I have to say one thing about YHA's - they seem to be full of weirdos. Not everyone of course, but far too many people who are too afraid to try any other backpacking resorts. I shared a room with a guy who was visiting for ONE DAY - and as a result of this decision faced a 16 hour bus ride. And a middle aged South Taiwanese couple who presumably hadn't slept together in months since they were sharing dorms with others throughout their trip. Don't get me wrong - lovely people, but not really the sort I want to be meeting...



Within half an hour of getting to Noosa however I had befriended a couple of local lads. I was eating dinner in the YHA - hungry after my bus ride from Byron Bay and at the bar (the cheapest in town, hence their presence) I espied words on the back of a t-shirt:

Put on the mask and dance for daddy.

I had to know. I finished my food and tapped him on the shoulder.

"Alright mate? Is that a Tomahawk t-shirt?"

"Yeah."

"Cool."

And the conversation went on from there. His name was Chris; his equally cool mate Ryan. We spoke of Faith No More, Mr Bungle and Fantomas - the last two bands obscure enough to create a connection with anybody one meets who also knows of them. I name-dropped Secret Chiefs 3 - that impressed them, although I know little about their music except from a time when my mate Chris played them to me. We rocked the YHA by insisting they play the Faith No More songs The Gentle Art Of Making Enemies and their collaboration with Sparks This Town Aint Big Enough For The Both Of Us. The last the boys had never even heard of, and they loved it so much they immediately invited me back to theirs for a drink and some music listening. I cursed the oddity of such a place as the YHA for being so dull yet providing me with such generous and friendly natives.

Chris and Ryan also had an eight track recorder, two guitars, a bass guitar, keyboard and PC with various music software. The next day we made a tune. It sounded okay, but bits were out of tune. It involved us shouting Australian nursery rhymes down a microphone. I utilised their X-box and N64. It felt like home. Their coffee table had the same paraphenalia that mine did when I lived in Elephant and Castle and in Camden with some friends. Marvelous.



Arthur Thacker - the funniest man since Bill Hicks found on the Internet alive and well!!!

And more genius here...

Note folks: Arthur has a bit of a potty mouth. The crazy fucker.

I took a plane from Sydney on Tuesday to Byron Bay. To my relative delight I discovered I would be flying by a propeller-driven aircraft which meant low altitude and another (albeit not amazing) first for this blogger. It was a fifty seater - there were about 35 passengers. And the flight was a fantastic experience. The start of the flight was over Sydney and the harbor looked terrific from the air. I saw the northern beach town of Manly where I spent much of my time and I proceeded to followed my map as the plane flew up the East Coast towards Byron Bay - a gorgeous town half way up the coast and the most easterly point of mainland Oz.



It's quite touristy here but very pleasant nevertheless. It does seem that the traveling scene is quite different here than it is in South East Asia. For a start there are a damn sight more English people here (although there were still many in Asia) and the travelers seem to be younger and more inclined to drink beer and attempt to have sex with members of the opposite sex. Here you'll meet far more horny eighteen year old boys looking for some sexual adventure than anywhere else in the known world (except Ibiza probably).

So I've got to grips with Australian culture. It took me about three minutes. Shit, shit, shit television; meaty foods; beer; sport; and a love of life - which all the previous things in the list point to. Bad television is a sign that the population are actually doing things rather than watching the box, so that's good. It's easy to travel here, the most difficult thing is that there is too much to choose from. Everywhere can be found countless brochures, magazines, books and leaflets advertising methods of travel and things to do. Everybody has tips on where I should go. I just want to see a bloody kangaroo and a koala. That's it.

And the football. I must see all the football...

Australia really is a strange country. Because it is an island continent that has been seperated from the rest of the world for millions of years, it has spawned its own branches of evolution that have created plants and animals that are alien to the rest of the world. European colonisation has bought with it much foreign life (and therefore familiar to me); but merely strolling around even a major metropolis like Sydney has caused me much nature-related consternation. The plants are weird, the trees even odder, and there seems to be a completely different animal hierarchy than what I am used to. There are these huge and fat long beaked birds waddling around the city called White Ibis'...



....and odd odd odd looking trees....


Sydney is a very beautiful city, although the traffic lights have ridiculous sounding pedestrian crossings, pubs are called 'Hotels' although few actually rent out rooms and the prices here are extremely expensive . So much so that I wonder how much time I dare spend here before flying back to the cheapy cheap south-east Asia. The meat pie looms large here and nationalism is strong. I have to say the "100% Australian Owned and Managed" signs on some shops are disturbing to say the least but in general Ausralians are extremely friendly and approachable.

One of my last nights in bangkok was an interesting one. A Canadian chap I was travelling with from Cambodia for a couple of weeks idioticaly accepted the invitation to smoke a joint whilst in the Khao San Road area. Which is an idea even more stupid than Australia's animals and fauna. The Thai government has really been cracking down hard on drugs (overdoing it in fact, much to the consternation of the world's civil rights groups) and being caught in posession of even a trace of narcotics of any kind brings with it a long spell in a dark and unpleasant prison, followed by deportation and a criminal record. And so Brandon (for that is his name) was inevitably arrested with spliff in hand and marched down to the local police station. I saw the police surrounding Brandon and I followed them as he got taken to the station along with a couple of other concerned friends. But Brandon was a fortunate boy as members of the International Red Cross happened to be drinking at the pub and witnessed the whole thing. One of them came down to ensure things were conducted properly and to help Brandon say the right things. In the end I had to run off to a local 7-11 (great places - air conditioning and massive Squishys for only 20 bhat) to buy a bottle of whisky for the coppers. Classic SE Asian bribary.

Lucky Canadian git.

Thinking about going to Byron Bay next - but must be careful regarding the Euro 2004 fixture list.

I don't have access to Photoshop, nor do I have any of the patience or time required to change the banner at the top of this page. Which is a bit of a bummer because I'm leaving to fly to Australia tomorrow and that is not, strictly speaking, or actually in any sense whatsoever, in the tropics.

I have departed from Cambodia now and I am currently writing from Bangkok. My last stop before entering Thailand again was at the town of Siem Reap, situated near the Temples of Angkor which is easily the most amazing place I have ever visited. My second World Heritage Site, the Temples are situated in a beautiful forested archeological park about 400 square kilometers in size. The temples are the remains of structures built between the 9th and the 15th century and include Angkor Wat - the world's largest religious building:



Some temples are in a better state than others, but all are covered with exquisite carvings and intricate patterns. I spent three days exploring the temples - and I felt like Indiana Jones. In fact the Indiana Jones inspired film Tomb Raider used most people's favourite temple Ta Phrom. Why should this be so?

Here's an example:



The archaeologists discovered the site of the temples in the first half of the twentieth century and since then have undertaken a massive clearance and restoration project. However they decided to leave Ta Phrom of an example of what the jungle had done to the temples over the many centuries. So they half cleared it and left some amazing examples of wood clasping stone. I wondered around this site open mouthed.

During my time in Siem Reap I also visited the Aki Ra Landmine Museum which was the most fascinating museum I have ever been to. Please, please, please take some time to read Aki Ra's story. I have used a lot of what might appear to be hyperbole in this entry but I assure you I have chosen my words very carefully. And without exaggeration I also tell you that his story will leave you in utter amazement:

My Story - Aki Ra



Aki Ra still clears mines and uses them to fill his museum, but since his website was written the Cambodian government has confiscated his metal detectorand has tried various times to shut him down. Not being an NGO (although trying to secure NGO status), Aki Ra is not permitted by law to clear mines - he currently uses a spade tied to the end of a long stick. Whilst NGO's clear mines at an agonisingly slow pace and at the cost of $500 per mine, Aki Ra has been clearing mines quickly and very cheaply. His museum is filled with various mines he has recovered and made safe, plus bombs dropped by US planes on Cambodia (very, very heavy) and various other miscellany.

The museum survives on donations and Aki Ra uses the money to educate local farmers about the dangers of mines and to look after orphan children who have been the victims of mines themselves. What is most striking about the issue of mines is that both sides laid them and victims would be as likely to get injured by mines laid by their own side as those placed by the other - although the Americans also laid many mines in Eastern Cambodia when they secretly bought the Vietnam War west over the Vietnamese border. The US' actions during this period and their indifference to anything except their own ends is largely, if not entirely, responsible for the horrors that Cambodia suffered after the US withdrawl from the region. The American's called Cambodia their 'sideshow' - yet their interference with the country's entire infrastructure had direct consequences that are still being felt to this day. I'm currently reading a history book regarding Cambodia and the US' involvement there. I'm almost ripping my hair out with anger at what I have been learning. I promised myself I wouldn't write about this until I finished reading the whole book, so more about this next time....

In accordance with the fundamentally cyclical nature of travellers everywhere I travelled to the south coast of Cambodia last week and a town entitled Sihanoukville. I went there expecting sun, surf, white sandy beaches and interesting people.

What I saw was: MONSOON!

In a way it was a blessed relief. Phnom Penh has a kind of permanent cushion of humidity surrounding it. Every night I've spent in Cambodia's capital has featured a thunderstorm on the horizon but never above my head. So to travel to underneath the storms was nice in that I could sit, in one place, and not find myself drenched in my own sweat. In Sihanoukville I soaked up the weather like a person used to the cold might soak up the sun. I had gone to the coast and I was rain bathing. It was not what I had expected but that was just fine.

I do like Cambodia; the people here are so chilled out. As you might know if you have been following my travels, I have come here via Vietnam. In Vietnam, if a local approaches a tourist (us Westerners stick out somewhat) with goods or a service to sell and receives the answer "no", that salesperson would continue to follow you. I get the impression that "no" is seen as a bartering step, meaning "yes, but not at tht price". Here in Cambodia, "no" means "no" - which as a tourist is much more pleasant. While Vietnam could feel seedy and with a few dodgy characters, Cambodia has none of that. Even the chaps at the shooting range - where you might expect it to be a bit dodgy - were the salt of the Earth. I'll be sad to leave here as the pace of life is so relaxed and the people so happy, even despite the poverty here and the recent history of this country.

Seventy five per cent of the Cambodian population is under 25. The future of this country will rest almost entirly with this generation of kids; and it looks to my untrained eye like the future will be alright. There appears to be no adolescent revolution against the older generation, the teenagers are savvy, clever and friendly; and the society is increasingly liberal and content (although some parts of the culture is conservative, like attitudes towards couples kissing in public, or nudity - definitely both frowned upon, I know this due to books rather than any bad experiences).

Tomorrow I leave Phnom Penh (again) to travel north to Siem Reap and the site of the most furious period of temple construction anywhere. This includes Angkor Wat, the biggest religious building in the world. Angkor Beer meanwhile is the most cheap and delicious beer in the world. 28 pence per glass? Yes please...

Here I am in possibly the world's hugest adult adventure playground. Not that that is necessarily a good thing. Somewhere in this land resides Gary Glitter including his desire for young children - and I bet he can get them here too. Not that I've seen any of that sort of thing, but the law here is just a word - actually I don't even know if there is a Khmer word for 'law'. Anyway, should one drive down the wrong side of the road at night with your headlights switched off and a huge reefer billowing pungent smoke everywhere, you might solicit a smiling wave from the police - but probably not any hassle. The pizza restaurants here serve "happy" pizzas. Pizzas are inanimate so as such aren't happy, but the consumers of them certainly will be after half-an-hour or so...

Now most politicians might have you believe that such a situation is a recipe for crime, murder and general mayhem; however Phnom Penh is a laid back and friendly city where the locals smile and say hello but occasionally try to dislodge monkeys from the trees around Wat Phnom by shaking the trees and laughing. Which isn't very nice. But at least they aren't shooting each other which is pretty good news for any philosophical anarchists as the sheer amount of weaponry left over from the years of the Khmer Rouge is huge (so I'm told).



The average wage here for many is $20 a month so some creative military types have used that military surplus to their advantage by setting up shooting ranges for tourists to try hand guns, M15s, Rocket Propelled Grenades, and various other miscellaneous weaponry. I can't remember the prices but one chap who has already visited it told me that RPGs are $200 and that the cow is an extra $50... Shocking. I've yet to meet anyone who thinks that murdering a cow or chicken for a laugh is actually funny or fun - but I don't speak to the hunting types who populate Britain's countryside. The most visited range is near the Killing Fields - and anyone who's seen that cannot possibly relish the idea of bloodlust. I will take in this horrible scene of human suffering on Monday or Tuesday.

Backed by the Chinese and the Thais, the Khmer Rouge murdered two million Cambodians in a period of radical Communism starting from 1975 until 1978. In Cambodia in 1975, Pol Pot declared the calendar should start again at year zero. If one spoke a foreign language or even wore glasses you would be for the chop. Which is almost literally true as the cost of the bullets was beginning to get too costly. Babies would frequently get bludgeoned to death because they were not born into a peasant family. Thankfully the Vietnamese invaded and overthrew the Khmer Rouge at the end of 1978. And so bitter were the Americans towards the Vietnamese that they actually helped the most extreme Communists in world history maintain a guerilla war through the eighties merely because it was Vietnam who had brought it all down. The British backed the Americans through all this of course, and the Chinese as usual were throwing money towards the cause of evil as well.

Elections did not return to Cambodia until 1993 and the Khmer Rouge did not disappear until as recently as 1998 with the death of Pol Pot. Murders from the years of Pol Pot are estimated to be as high as three-and-a-half million. Cambodia is now an up and coming country, which is youth dominated and which wears a smile. It is really uplifting to see the people getting back onto their feet and enjoying life. That is why Phnom Penh is one of the most exciting places I have ever been to.

There is a definite cycle to this traveling malarky. It goes: city, mountains, beach, city, mountains, beach, and so on. And so it came to be that after descending from the peaks of north-west Vietnam we should head for the near-coast town of Hoi An and all its associated tailors.

Halong Bay was both beautiful and enjoyable. Firstly because it consists of thousands of separate island and caves and secondly because Vietnamese people trying to hawk me stuff don't generally get out to sea much. Halong bay is a World Heritage Site, which means it gets all sorts of special protection; but that doesn't stop ships captains' tossing their plastic bags of rubbish into the water. We went as part of a tour with six other travelers - I would definitely recommend such a thing as it is a great way to meet like-minded individuals from across the world.



And meeting such people in the days since Halong have caused me to realise how ridiculously expensive my home city of London really is. During my only day back in Hanoi I got chatting to a local who was studying English at university. Now remember folks, to work out a price in Vietnamese dong one must multiply the British pound by 27,000. 27 is a bastardly awkward number to work with. Also bear in mind that a long distant bus takes 12 hours might cost about 50,000 dong. And furthermore I ask you to consider that I am not doing the patronising phonetic representation of my Vietnamese chum's attempts at English; although it was rather good anyway.

"How much does it cost you to get to work in the morning?"

"Er.... *insert many seconds of furious thinking here* about 150,000 dong."

*makes face of surprise and concern* "How much do cigarettes cost?"

Ah. This was easy - it's the same price: "150,000 dong." I reply speedily looking smug as if I had just done the maths again but in super quick time.

"Really?"

"Yes."

A packet of Marlboro Lights here in Vietnam cost about 17,000 dong I am told by those who buy such things. Which is a mixed blessing for them I guess. I also guess that with no regulations on what the evil tobacco manufacturers can stick (get it? Weak pun there) into their product, ciggies here probably contain something nasty and highly addictive like heroin or the like.

"How much does a house cost in London?"

I baulk.

How much is the average London house price? I ask my friend Rob. "300,000 pounds" he reckons.

I baulk more - adding to the previous baulk - at the mathematics ahead of me. I decide to estimate a rough approximation. It's a billion dong I believe.

I put on my best Ren and Stimpy voice:

"A biiiilleeon dong!" I exclaim. It turns out I was wrong; the actual figure is more like 8,100,000,000 dong but he gets the message anyway: study English but don't visit England. Not unless you're prepared to be bank rolled by a Vietnamese tobacco company.

Yesterday I met a Japanese chap called Yoshio. After the initial and mandatory conversation about Manga and the marvelous Takeshi Kitano and his new film Zatoichi we move onto prices. Or rather I move the conversation on to it. I always thought that Tokyo, from where Yoshio hails,
was possibly the only city more expensive than London, but oh no. I won't bother with more details, but now I'm more pissed off than ever about the ridiculous expense us Londoners' are put through on a regular basis. Yoshio pays $100 a month for his Tokyo apartment.

Bah.

Today I paid $35 to get a tailor made tuxedo. It is very nice thankyouverymuch. Such an item would cost me double this to rent one for a weekend - although to be fair it would probably cost double anywhere else. I'm still baulking.

Finally here is a very sad man indeed. Or is it just a spoof website? Don't send your answers to me.







Fruits in Vietnam.Try the Sapodilla. Yummy.