Bangkok Day 1.5

Bad At Hammocks

Swinging at the Rock Bar in Vang Vieng, Laos.

Road Trip

I have been remiss in posting to the blog whilst I have Taiwaned. While the pace of life and adventure has slowed it has not stopped or dulled. I have no excuse. I have spent a lot of time stalking Facebook while listening to my wedded friends argue in their gated, five level, vaulted ceiling, $600 cnd a month condo.

On top of a lot lot of happy and dark/depressing stories I have yet to tell about Thailand and Laos, there is an incomplete story about the trip to the unpronounceable mountain park on the books.

Also, in an attempt to go bugging (looking for bugs) with a South African girl in the midget mountains near to "home", my excellent sense of navigation led to us exploring, heavily drinking, drugging and contemplating in a local abandoned amusement park, complete with a tea cup ride, carousel, giant hatched dinosaur eggs and a shady, or boards completely missing suspension bridge, all of an elevation much lower then the very stunted mountains visible from everywhere. Can not forget the peeing for distance contest (which I lost... to the girl.) It is amazing how fast nature reclaims anything abandoned and man made and that it doesn't negate the fact that I lost a peeing for distance contest to a girl even though it was a distance over pavement, down a slope, completely dependent on bladder volume type affair.

I also went indoor shrimp fishing and got Shanghaied into a Ford Focus by a Taiwanese family to another town and a private karaoke room. Subsequently, being me I rocked their worlds with the power of old country songs, left and got waved in by another group of friendly locals to an open bar. My long term, recently wedded,  newly fathered, PHD questing and suddenly/aggravatingly responsible friend somehow overcame my chorus of fag and quitter commets (apologies to my gay and hopefully understanding of my rural Alberta upbringings/I was trying to coerce a drunken friend of the same disposition to not suck.) Anyway he left me in the middle of a suburb of a major city, armed with a local vocabulary of hello, pork breakfast sandwich, thank you, and bottoms up. Friendly locals providing free booze led to my using two of those four phrases.

The first taxi was less then helpful in getting home. The police at the station didn't even know the name of the town I was trying for. Luckily the second taxi found me well to Dakeng circle which, is within walking distance from the secure community which I was frequenting.  How I got from the circle to the condo or burnt my tongue, I can not explain.

So long story only slightly summarized, I am heading out on a five to eight day, circumnavigation of Taiwan (unexpected scooter death omitted from estimated travel itinerary.) I will head south from Taichung down the center, mountainy parts of Taiwan for two nights (ok so not really a circumnavigation,) stoping to tent camp and search for bugs with my entomologist friend. Upon treating with his wife on the southernish tip of the country I will leave my friend because of his lame school, financial and family obligations. I will scooter, by my lonesome, up the unfamiliar and lesser occupied eastern coastline before trying to make it back across similar but different aforementioned central mountainy parts of the island to my friends inviting if not dysfunctional home. The Spot GPS tracker will be on, batterie and my memory of changing batterie permitted.

We leave 12:30 pm Taiwan time weather and wife being factors beyond our control. If I learn something on this trip there will be another blog or many to follow. If I don't or get caught in a rock slide or slide my scooter under oncoming traffic... only digital silence.

Oh Loathsome Sunrise

As a younger man I worked drilling rigs. They taught what I could do myself and taught me how little can't there is in the world with some creativity and a team. They paid for my university, a truck, my first trip to Asia and eventually film school but the most obvious thing rigs gave me was the sunrise. Two weeks on one week off.  Every morning, one week out three as the twelve hour shift wound down I would find my way to a railing a platform to watch the sun break over the trees or fields or mountains. Every one was amazing, a sign of an end to a long slow night or a hard dirty shift but it was always beautiful and never unwelcome. On this trip I have seen way more sunrises then any unemployed nearly thirty person should and every one has been hard. Every one was the end to a night of memories, a sign of friends moving on and one step closer to that long flight out of Neverland. It's upsetting to me that time and relative age has the power to taint and twist the meaning of something as simple as a sun doing what has always done and will do long past times we care to think about. I do not feel a old as lost and constantly wandering as I am but I do pay respect to time, change and reality.  It is time to go to bed old man.   

A Long Weekend In The mountains Part 1

I left Dakeng, mid afternoon, on a scooter accompanied by two other bikes and a small car. Our destination, an unpronounceable national park in the mountains to the east. The three hour ride almost ended five minutes in as I was waving at my friend Wes while driving 60 km\h towards the red light of a busy intersection.

Soon we were winding our way through mountains and valleys of Taiwans interior. Everything not of man is green here, unlike the dusty north roads of Laos or the flat, fugly middle parts of Thailand through which you must pass on the way to it's various paradises. Here all the little roads are paved, the cut banks reinforced and the ditches concrete to keep it all so. There are lines on the road but more importantly, people pay attention to them. They even put mirrors on the sharper corners to prevent accidents (thank you). Winding up, down and around on my little scooter I quickly knew that this was the most beautiful place I had ever been. The green is amazing but not as amazing as the the amount of different trees and plants that it represents. From palms to bambo all the way through to varieties that must be related to the poplar and then straight up evergreens. With the little drive ways, cute colourful roadside houses and valley towns it seemed to me that I must be driving through a Miyazaki animation only I didn't notice any airships or wizards.

We stopped at a betel nut stand to pick up the last of our supplies and have a beer. The owner seemed friendly enough so one of the expats in our convoy (also named Josh) offered him some Redman chew telling him it is western betel nut. We talked amongst ourselves for a moment before noticing that the betel nut guy wasn't looking so well. Josh Too had neglected to inform our new friend to spit out the juice.

Up in the park we got moved into our third floor room. Made for eight people it had two bathrooms and large raised hardwood sleeping platform set up with thin cushions, pillows and blankets. As Wes and his wife Anne did their best to organize their things tidally in corners, I was content to let my backpack puke it's all into the middle of the sleeping platform to find my camera and pipe.

After a good amount of beer we set out to look for bugs (Wes' job). The first we came upon was a beetle, Wes explained, who's defense mechanism was to mix together two reacting chemicals and eject them at a temperature around 105 C. Wes demonstrated the fascinating nature of the insect by grabbing not one but two of them and cursing a lot as he put them into a vile whilst his fingers burnt. We searched a while longer and decided that the rest of the night would be better served visiting and settled down at a rock table on the edge of the woods. 

    

So This Is Taiwan

My first day in Taichung, Taiwan:

Woke up 

Coffee

Watched the Oilers stomp the Flames live

Mcdonalds for a double cheese burger

Went to Costco and bought socks, shoes and beer

If it weren't for all the Taiwanese people staring and pointing at me and the complete lack of giant pickup trucks with cow balls hanging of them I could swear I'm back in Alberta.   

Last Day Of Squirrel

After a month and a half of adventure I am releasing the squirrels into the wilds of Cambodia to fend for themselves. As I wish them the best of luck, I will be leaving Laos on what is sure to be a brutal fifteen hour bus ride back to Bangkok. After two nights of suck town I fly to Taiwan to visit some good friends. The field journal should stay active as I will still be having adventures and there are still a lot of Laos stories that have yet to be told.

Tracker Fail

So my amazing GPS tracking system hasn't been working very well. It requires lithium batteries which I just can't find over here so I have been jamming alkaline batteries into it which work for about an hour and then as they please after that. Luckily we have not been to that many place in the last three weeks so here are some sat maps for Don Det and Vang Vieng in Laos.

Trekking Part 3

The trekkers made it to the village, tired but upbeat. "The hardest thing I've ever done" was uttered more then once. Reports said that our drunken guide had the worst of it, often falling behind and pleading for the group to wait for him as they called him names and pressed on. 

Home for the night was a long house on a big hill over looking the village and valley below. The twenty foot tall deck was made of widely spaced bamboo under thin reed mats which always left you with the feeling that you were about to step through. Our bedroom for the night was three bug nets covering a half dozen thin sleeping pads. The shower was a plastic waste bin full of water and a smaller bucket to get the water over your head. The American and Swiss girls were less then impressed with our accommodations. I asked them what they had expected, knowing that they were going to stay in a mountain village with no power. The response was a silent stare to the tune of "your an asshole." 

It was on our sketchy deck with the amazing view were we met a nine year old girl named Dala. A little shy at first, Dala was soon climbing the wall of the our hut to show us how she could monkey across the room swinging from the rafters. She went and got her eight month old brother, bring him up the steep two by four stairs on her back. He looked to have clubbed feat and Chat told us that he would never walk, but impressively he could sit up and make pretty good time scooting across the floor on his bottom. 

Some ladies in traditional dress who I think were part of Dala's family came up to the deck with some handy crafts as Dala went to the kitchen area and started a fire and boiling water in preparation for our meal. The adults took over the cooking while we sat on the deck mats and played Bullshit. Dala flung herself on my back and held my cards randomly shouting out the numbers she knew in English. On top of being the loudest back pack I have ever had she also destroyed my no fail, Bullshit strategy.

Chat had took a long nap and slept off most of his drunk. A little humble and possibly embarrassed he helped serve us a fantastic meal of green curry chicken, soup, and freshly made chili sauce. The sun set and little Dala got some wood and made a fire in the brazier that centered the deck. We managed to procure a bag of brown looking weed and a bamboo bong sealed up with candle wax. Chat, still feeling helpful, brought us a big kitchen knife and wooden block for the chopping and sorting of materials. Candles were lit and stuck to flat rocks as the night got easy. The bong made its rounds always seemed to be lost as it wouldn't stand on it's own and had to leaned up against some thing if not in hand. Adriana got the quote of the night for, "I'm not sure if that is the bong or the deck." Short of rolling papers, Michaela voted me most useful for ability to painstakingly emptying the tobacco out of cigarettes and repacking them with the aid of a pipe cleaner.

There were lots of extra sleeping mats, pillows and blankets but there were very few bug nets in comparison so the group decided would sleep in a big pile, Wild Things style. Brock, Damian and I started reconfiguring the long house's gear, double stacking the thin mattress', adding extra pillows and blankets before reinstalling the bug nets.

Back out on the deck one of the girls asked what it was like in the new sleeping quarters. "Do you know the Tajma Hall?" She nodded in the affirmative. "Yeah well it's a shit hole compared to the pillowy, bambo, palace we have created." Everyone laughed and the illusion held for about ten minutes. There was a terrible screem from inside the hut. Damian and I ran over meeting Chat at the door. Tiff had found a big cockroach in her shoe and another on the wall.

It's funny how simple the formula for a good time is and how universal. You start with a deck/ beach/ campsite, stars, fire, good people and then season to taste with alcohol and whatever other party favors are available. It was hard looking forward from that deck knowing that eventually I would end up in a crowded city or beach bar somewhere, listening to a remix of a song that sucked in it's original form and had gotten worse in the mixing. I let the thought drift away for the decidedly happy present. We finished our night talking, laughing and inventing with our endless supply of empty beer cans, pipe cleaners and candle wax before crawling into our netted, tree fort palace.   

Vang Vieng, The Human Wasteland Factoid Sheet

FACTS:

Laos is still a Communist country

Vang Vieng is located in northern Laos.

Laos is one of the most fucked over countries in history. The long list of fuckers include France, Japan and most recently America. During the Vietnam War, the US dropped more bombs on Laos then were dropped in the entirety of WWII by both sides. 

The biggest tourist draw for Vang Vieng is river tubing. Backpackers rent tubes, get a ride to the top of the river, float ten or fifteen meters and then get stuck at the first bar they come too. Zip lines and rope swings drop people from the bars into the slow moving river. They drink buckets of Red Bull and whiskey, cups of opium tea and mushroom shakes all while eating Bob Marley pizza. During the course of the afternoon their tubes are inevitably stolen which cost them a deposit and if they are silly enough to go back to the rental place empty handed an additional fine. 

When starting a bar inside the township of Vang Vieng you have two choices for entertaining you customers. You can buy a box set of the television series Friends or Family Guy. I am not exaggerating when I say that 90% of the bars play one of these two show all day every day with the remaining 10% playing soccer or sometimes music.  

Vang Vieng is Laos' revenge on the youth of the developed world for 120 years of douche moves.   

Proof of revenge scheme in approximate cnd prices:

• Liter of beer - $1-2
• 26 of whiskey (at a store) - $0.90
• Pack of cigarettes - $0.45
• Mushrooms, weed, yaba, opium prepared in a drink or as food. Available at EVERY BAR - $10-12
• Scooter - Under $4 a day
• River access - $2 ride to the top
• Rope swings/ziplines from bars, into river - $0
• Family Guy - $0
• Pack of three condoms - $15 

This Communist spring break ensures that anyone who survives and finds the willpower to leave will have a constant reminder of their trip in the form of: Drug or alcohol habits, liver damage, broken limbs, cancer, STI, an unplanned pregnancy and/or finally brain damage due to drugs/ drowning/ drunk driving accident. 

Mommas, don't let your babies grow up to visit Commies. 

Mom, Please Don't Read This

I had drunkenly waved good by to the Dirt Squirrels Chinese, New Years morning. I had a ticket back to Bangkok but the fantastic night had left me incapable of packing and unsuitable for an extended journey. I caught back up with them two days later. Tyler still wasn't drinking and while I'm sure he is a great sober, human being, his new quiet self was detrimentally impacting my little project. It was 11:30 pm and the Squirrels were going to bed after some good live music at a street cafe. Patpong road was my trump card and I played it knowing that the Squirrels could not resist the temptation of naked girls in dark dingy bars. Having heard stories from other travelers, I knew that this would be a dicey operation so I  dropped everything in the room taking only the camera with a fresh memory card.

We arrived on the in the red light district and were quickly talked into a bar for a "show."  200 baut for a small beer is ridiculously expensive (about $7 cnd) but there was a one drink minimum. I think it was about when the old naked lady on stage started pulling a string of razor blades out somewhere razor blades ought not be pulled from and then cut some people shapes out of a folded piece paper. I ended up buying those paper people because there was three of them and three of us. Memories. The show continued, culminating with the ping pong show. Ping pong balls flew around the bar as customers with paddles tried to return the... serves. We decided to move on.

Quote of the night goes to a bar sign we saw, "50 gorgeous girls and a few ugly ones too." A promoter managed to lure us into a bar with the promise of 100 baut beer and no cover charge. I repeated this to every employee we met on the way up having heard a lot of horror stories about tourist traps\scams on Patpong. They all agreed that that was the deal. Inside the bar was super dingy and run down even for a strip club. The girls looked sad on top of being unanimously unattractive. The shows were a poor imitation of what we had already seen at the first bar.

A waitress came around and asked us to pay. We moved to the counter deciding to hit the road. The bill was over 3000 baut ($100 cnd).

"Were not paying that" I said.  "We will pay for the beer." The squirrels were looking nervous. I asked the boys to pull out 100 baut each for their beer.

"You saw pussy, you pay now!" Insisted the one of three bartender ladies. Tyler pulled out 1000 baut.

"I don't have any hundreds." he said looking concerned. On of the bartenders took the 1000 from him and I instantly grabbed it and gave it back to him.

"I she takes that you won't get it back." I was starting to get mad.

"You saw pussy, you pay!" The girl repeted.

"100 baut a beer and no cover" I would repeat pointing to the beer money that Damian and I had scraped together. They weren't acknowledging what I was saying.

"You saw pussy, you pay!" She insisted one last time.

"Get fucked!" I roared waving my hands around a bit just in case there was a language barrier. They understood something because all three bartenders gasped and talked really fast between each other. "Let's go Squirrels." I continued grabbing my beer and heading for the door. I went from a little worried to a lot worried when I saw a waitress running towards the big, previously unnoticed, metal door. She got to the door just before us. I was pretty sure we were fucked. As we neared the door something remarkable happened, she opened the door. We quickly made our way down the stairs and past the door men at the street level.

We walked quickly for a block without talking. Ran up to a street bar, bought a Heineken and slammed it. We laughed and retold the story that just happened as the framework of Patpongs night market was ripped down boxed and loaded by forklifts into a back alley. We found a tuk tuk and told them that we needed to get away fast. The driver was young and understood. Off the line he popped the first of many wheelies and tore off into the Bangkok night.

I had accomplished my mission and got Tyler drinking again and we had escaped one of the oldest tourist traps in Bangkok. All in all, a proper adventure. 

Year Of The Dragon On Lonely Beach

Chinese new years looked to be a big deal. There were posters and pamphlets being handed out every were for the dragon party at the beach in front of our huts. The Dirt Squirrels and had a bus booked for the morning and decided it prudent to just stay up all night. Drinking at the Siam Hut I ran into a Danish, German and British posse I had met the night before. They introduce introduced us to some other people and soon we had a proper crew. We sat on the Thai pillows on the floor around miniature tables and talked. Tyler and Damian were not drinking and hadn't for a few nights. I was starting to get concerned. The music pounded on from the beach DJ stage but the showing was poor. Around 2 am the music stopped. Our crew rolled out looking for the mythical "other party." We got to the Lonely Beach strip and soon found out that there was no other party. defeated we headed back to the beach huts.

Almost home I had an idea. "All travelers must stop", I bellowed into the night. Our strung out line of disappointed friends stopped and from the side of the road turned to me. I prepared to myself for the epic speech I felt brewing inside. "This is a convenience store." I shouted. "They sell liquor. We party on the beach!" I was for at least a slow clap and though it never came the idea was well received. So organized our liquid picnic with cups, 2 6 of shitty Thai rum, mix and some magnums of Shinga beer.

We found a table under a light on the beach that promised to aid us mission. Drinks were poured and I started I started the toasts. "To the lost, the wayward, we intrepid travelers. The best fucking people on earth." That one did better then a slow clap. We took to swimming and the Alberta girl to her credit went in the buff. Just out of the water we barely had time to take a drink when it it started to spit rain. I had enough time to run to my hut and put away the camera gear before the sky opened up and poured rain. I got back to the beach where they had found beach umbrellas behind a tree. We huddled under the umbrellas cursing our bad luck. Finally one of the guys said "fuck it" and ran off diving into the ocean. Everyone followed. We laughed and splashed, and made noise for the sake of making noise. I pioneered the much needed emergency float system, periodically running drills by shouting "float" and then laughing as 80 toes bobbed to the surface. A silence eventually took the group as we watched, listened and felt the rain splash into the ocean. "Is this actually happening?" asked one of the girls. The group smiled and nodded agreement with the sentiment.

I tend to travel and live on the ridiculous side, with no belief in or want for perfect, but I think that night with two Dirt Squirrels, a pack international randoms, little plastic cups and shitty Thai Rum, that we came pretty damn close.         

Trekking Part 2

After our elephant rides everyone except the Dirt Squirrels showered up and ate. Damian and I moved some furniture in the open bar so that the eight from our group and two British girls from another tour could all sit around. We quickly decided that we needed a drinking game to start the night out and not so quickly decided which game. The final conclusion was Never Have I Ever. Someone says "Never have I ever __________", and if you have done that deed you to take a drink. We bonded over Chang beer and realizations that we were all bunch of disgusting, amoral, perverts. The bar ran on an honor system and the sheet to mark down what you had drunk filled up fast. The bottle of Hong Thong mystery liquor I had brought on the trek was disappearing fast. Our guide seemed to like me... a lot, so a new rule was added to the game. Every time your guide touches you and you feel awkward you take a drink. I vaguely remember slurring that "This will be funny till it's not." With everyone well liquored we powered down the party making the long march up the hill to the longhouse.

Day Two

Simple breakfast, elephant showers in the river and off again. An air conditioned mini bus picked us up at the village. Some of our group said that they had seen Chat, our guide, doing shots at the store across the street just before we pulled out. At our destination our guide talked with some people and then asked us to make sure we had all of our items out of a pickup truck. "Chat, we came in fucking van," someone yelled.

We made a quick hike up to a waterfall that you could slide down the rocks and into the pool below. Chat was getting weirder by the second. He tried to grab me at the waterfall while mumbling incoherently and I snapped a little, slapping his hand away and making some loud and open ended threats in front of a dozen or so travelers from other groups. As we departed the water fall our guide retreated quickly to squat facing a wall to gnaw on a chicken bone.

Some of the girls were getting worried about the making the much longer and harder, next leg of the trek with our drunken guide. I was firstly worried about my physical ability to make it up the mountain and secondly about the very real possibility of Chat touching me again and me throwing him off the mountain. So I did the manly thing and convinced one of the concerned girls that she should get a bike to the village at the top and I would accompany her to make sure she got there safely. The group walked back to the road, chat flagged down a passing scooter, hopped on the back and said, "See you tomorrow" and took off.

I was feeling bad about inconveniencing the group but they seemed more pissed at Chat then me and the other biker. We complained about Chat for a while and discussed just taking off and attempting the trek ourselves. Another guide from the same company as Chat stopped and checked on us and we told him the situation. A lot of the group asked for a new guide but where told that it wasn't possible and that Chat was always drunk and we would be perfectly safe on the trek. So the group waited and bitched and waited some more. Chat finally came back with one scooter and driver and claimed that another would come. The girl who wanted to ride up the mountain refused to go up or stay behind with out me so we waited some more.

For some reason Chat decide it was a good time grab at me again. It looked like an incoming hug at first and then I felt something graze my package. I got a little rough with him. Threats were made feelings were hurt but in the end I left him relatively undamaged, only for the sake of the people who actually wanted to spend four hours climbing up the mountain. Chat made a phone call and got two scooters to come down from the village to get us as our other scooter had got bored of waiting and took off. The trekkers set on their way as Tiff and I waited.

The scooters arrived. My driver seemed a little nervous as I climbed on behind him. I should have known that the ride up would be an ordeal when the other guide had told us that the road up the mountain was to dangerous for trucks. Dust, rocks, and deep ruts were my first impression. My driver couldn't control the bike with me on the back and we drove into a couple of deep ruts and then powered out on a steep incline. We stopped and transferred my twenty five pound camera bag to the other bike and it seemed to give the bike enough relief that we could continue. The drivers feet almost never left the ground as the scooter groaned up the mountain, listing between deep ruts in the road and the sheer cliff. The ride got scarier and I realized that I could steer the bike from the back. Our lines between the rocks, ruts and cliffs became cleaner and we even managed to start in to a couple of the steeper parts in second or third gear. As we summited and entered the village I let out a whoop and my driver cheered as well. The villagers pointed, smiled and shouted as we drove by. I can only guess at what they were saying but it must have been something like, "Holy fuck, look what Bob just brought up the mountain on his scooter!" I paid and tipped my driver for not killing us, bought a pack of cigarettes and a beer and sat down to wait for the the trekkers.

To Be Continued...

My Day Off

Decide to leave the camera in the bag and relax after two solid days of trains, buses and boats. Tyler and I spent the afternoon at the beach, found Damian and sat about some bars for some beers. Didgeridoo's and hand drumming signaled time to switch to buckets of harder stuff. We tried a beach party out but it didn't take. Back on the strip we decided it would be funny to drink at the whore bar. All of the girls were out for the night so we had the run of the place. The owner was a very nice lady named Moulin. Moulin is in her early forties but has only been a lady for the last six years. I played pool against Moulin for a drink. Moulin took great joy in flashing me during difficult shots. I lost. Tyler was still a little skittish about lady boys from his bad Bangkok experience and decided to go home for the night. Damian lost several games of connect four to Moulin before switching to a game similar to Janga. Having access to a very open and friendly lady boy Damian asked every question he could think of. I'm going to give quote of the night to Damian for "There's nothing there, she showed me!" Well informed we moved on to a bar with more people. Ting Tongs fit the bill so we sat at the bar and chatted up the other tourists. Very unfortunately the sun decided to come up. Realizing that the day was pretty much shot I stayed up a little longer had a swim. The end.

Nothing Actualy Blew Up

People from the west keep telling me that Koh San Road was blown up. I was there the morning after the bomb scare and I can assure you it's still in one piece.

http://www.bangkokpost.com/news/security/275278/pm-assures-public-of-safety

To The Beach

Took a sixteen hour night train from northern Thailand back to Bangkok. The Dirt Squirrels slept through most of it while I drank in the dinning car with a couple of Norwegian guys. I didn't get to say much as yelled stuff at me and over each other for several hours while insisting to buy all my beer. They had been driving motorcycles around northern Thailand for a few weeks and decided that it was time to terrorize the country around it's middle parts. Around four in the morning the train stopped, the bikes were unloaded. Tom and Giller finished their beers, stumbled off the train and drove into the night.

Got into Bangkok at around seven in the morning. We booked a bus to the island of Koh Chang and then drank in Lucky Beer* till noon when our mini bus was ready. *(Lucky Beer is currently the only Dirt Squirrel approved bar in Thailand.) It took us about seven hours to get to the island but I'm sure that five of those hours were spent at gas stations as our propane fueled bus could only mange about thirty meters of travel on a tank. The Squirrels noticed that the person who signed our tickets was named Poo and made appropriate jokes for the better part of two hours. I was suddenly and completely grateful for my three hundred dollar, noise canceling, squirrel proof head phones.

After a short ferry ride we were ready for beach life but couldn't find a place to stay. I took us farther and farther down the island looking for a quiet place I had visited seven years before. We acquired a map and I decided the place I was looking for was Lonely Beach. In route I bored the squirrels with stories of how chill and perfect our destination was with its little huts, beach barbeques and complete lack of amenities. The driver dropped us off and assured me that I was exactly where I had asked to go. Instead of a quiet unlit path to the beach there was a street lined with bar's, restaurants, tattoo parlors and vendors. Shitty dance music came at us from every direction and Thai working girls cat called us from the seedier bars. Seven years is a longtime, welcome to Koh Chang.

Better blog coming,

I know I said I would talk about the trek today but our trekking group went for a steak dinner last night which made six out of the eight of us violently ill. Managed to get to a pharmacy for some antibiotics with out shitting myself or vomiting on anyone. The moral of this story, don't eat western food in Asia.

Trekking Part 1

We picked up our guide in Chiang Mai and rode out into the mountains in the back of a pickup truck. Starting out into the jungle we crossed streams and rice paddies as our guide commented on the amazing foliage. Half an hour into our beginners level jungle walk (as described by out travel agent) we stopped to rest at a stream along a steep bank. Our guide told us to rest up for a bit as we would go up hill for a long time. I quickly realized two things, our travel agent was an asshole and I was in worse shape then I thought. For one hour up a 50 degree slope using steps, created by elephants I wheezed and sweated my way to the top holding on to roots and trees, struggling to get from foothold to foothold. When we would stop to break I would plop down in the dirt not caring how dirty my pants were getting and our guide would come around and fan me and the other girl who was struggling. My self esteem had never been higher.

We eventually summited "Holy Fuck This Sucks" mountain and started down the other side to a little village. Down is awesome. We stopped in the village which had a perfectly good road running through it. We got water and ice cream and then walked across a rice paddy to the Jumbo elephant resort and spa. There were some elephants with chains dragging from their legs a little open air bar next to a pig pen and an elephant dugout. Chickens, ducks and mangy dogs wandered around freely. On the hill a one hundred feet above us was a long thatch roofed building in which we would spend the night.

Leaving no time stop and smell the massive piles of elephant dung we were pushed up a ladder to a raised platform so we could go on our elephant ride. Tyler and I boarded together. The bench seat had a hint of padding and a back rest of three quarter inch square iron. The elephant driver or "mahut" sat lazily on elephant's head. As we started up the rocky hill I understood why the elephant never caught on in mass as a form of personal transportation. Our seat rocked back and forth as the elephant slowly climbed the hill. As Tyler made all sorts of unmanly sounds, I struggled to hold the camera and mono pod straight with out wrecking my back on the iron bar behind or being pitched forward and off the to my certain death. The elephants would stop constantly to eat leaves from the surrounding bush. To get them moving again the mahuts would strike them on the in the forhead head with wooden handled device that looked something like a fire poker. Our elephant was the only one of the group that had tusks and an attitude so we fell behind. At a large cut bank he stopped to eat and refused to move. Finally our mahut gave up, jumped to the bank, bank and left us to fend for ourselves. Tlyer's unmanly sounds intensified and I found a better grip as the elephant decided he wanted some roots out of the bank and took to ripping it up with his tusks. We contemplated jumping by which I mean I encouraged Tyler to jump so I could better secure myself. Fortunately the mahut came back with a bunch of big green leaves which he used to bribe the elephant into moving again before leaping deftly back aboard. Our elephant decide that one more 360 was in order and then took us the rest of the way home with out complaint.

Filming from an elephants back is nearly impossible

Just got back from jungle trekking in Northern Thailand. Very tired. Going to get something to eat and will write more in the morning.

The Reggae cat of the Central Guest House in Bangkok

On of the caretakers of the guest house loves cats. He dressed one up for us today and showed us this video he made.

Reflections from day five

Thailand is a very safe place to travel but... on our second night the Dirt Squirrels were drinking in a street bar against the wall of a monastery. Things were going fine I was talking politics with a Canadian working for the UN and two travelers from the UK, Damian was learning Cambodian from a guy named Wat and Tyler was passed out in the bartender lady's lap on a bench. The party grew and Tyler came back to life. Maybe it was the buckets of whiskey and Red bull or maybe it was just poor moral character but I suddenly decided that I was more interested in Finnish girls then Dirt Squirrels so I left the Damian and Tyler on at the street bar.

The next day I went for a shower at the crack of of 4 pm. The caretaker of the Central guest house told me that the police had called and one of my friends had been drugged and robbed. I automatically assumed Damian. Walking out the door the phone rang again and was passed to me. It was Tyler from the police station. Walking to catch a tuk tuk to the cop shop I just happened to see Damian in an alley talking to a guy selling bus tours.

"Damian" I yelled.

"Oh, hi Tuftin" He replied slowly.

"Have you been to bed yet?" Damian shook his head no. "Are you ok?" He shook his head yes. "Ok whatever, Tyler was drugged and robbed by a lady boy last night and we have to go get him from the tourist police station.

"I think that might have happened to me too, I can't find my debit card."

"Get in the tuk tuk Damian, one fucking crisis at a time."

Driving to police station Damian pointed out the stairs of a monument in the middle of a roundabout that he had slept on during some of the seven hours that he was lost in Bangkok.

Tyler was fine though a little shooken up. He lost a passport, watch, visa and all his cash money after accepting a free beer and coming to no longer on Khoa San road.

I had the boys get on the internet and find numbers and addresses for embassies and
banks. While I went and got them food and drinks. They slept for about fourteen hours and we spent a whole day cabing around Bangkok getting passport photos, police reports and international calling cards.

Tyler's new passport is on the way and we are heading to northern Thailand by night train tomorrow. Damian can't get cash advances off of his Visa despite multiple calls to his bank so he has now become the group's indentured slave. We don't think he was actually robbed.

Everyone is okay and excited to get the fuck out of Bangkok.

Squirrels sleeping on off

Safe in Bangkok. It's noon here and Dirt Squirrels are fast asleep after a big day of planes, tuk tuk's and bucket drinks. The tracker doesn't seem to Bangkok, might be where I have it placed.