Loneliness is creeping in

It’s been over two months now since I left Saigon and I’m beginning to have my doubts if I can hack this anymore. Well, I know I can hack it, I can endure anything, but will I enjoy it? I gotta say, sometimes traveling alone is wonderful, but sometimes it’s downright boring and unfulfilling. I never wanted to travel alone, it’s just difficult to find someone who’s also fed up with their job and wants to wander around Asia for half a year. Hmmm, why is that?

I don’t know why I’m incapable of finding other backpackers and just going with the flow. I guess I have a plan in my head and I stick to it. And I know I also feel I’m getting too old for that shit. More often than not, I meet friendly couples and eventually we part ways. Or just don’t put myself into position to meet other people. Everyone’s got their guard up to some degree, especially when you’re in a place with hundreds of tourists from all over the place. Wary of each other for whatever reason.

Anyway, it’s really difficult to enjoy my own company at the moment. I’ve got a clean, comfortable bungalow 30 meters from the beach. I rented a new motorbike to tour the island. I’ve got cheap beer and delicious Thai food in abundance around me. There are places to go and see on the island, but it takes me so long to prepare to leave because I just don’t fucking give a shit!!!!

I want to have a conversation on the way, share a story, hold a hand, share the experience. Been there done that ALONE. Another fucking waterfall. Yeah it’s beautiful, but I don’t care, I just don’t. I've seen waterfalls. Ok, I’m here so I’ll hike it and I do and it’s nice, but something’s missing. Should I go for a swim and relax on one of the huge rocks? Alone? There is no fun in that. I’m not in the mood for meditation. I had my morning walk on the beach this morning - that was my meditation, but it didn’t seem to help.

I’m quite comfortable to be alone, to travel alone, but not for such extended periods. And with no purpose. Yeah I could read a book, that might help, but how many? I can surf the web, but for how long? I can ride my motorbike around and around, but to see what? Another ocean view, it’s stunning, it truly is, but all I can do is take a picture and post the postcard on facebook. Postcards are pretty, but boring. People are interesting.

I've been holding it in today. Trying to smile when I don’t feel like it. Trying to pretend like I’m enjoying myself when I’m really not. I hate pretending! Don’t get me wrong, I absolutely have moments where I am truly enjoying myself, but in my opinion, not as many as I should. And I wonder, what the fuck is wrong with me? Why is EVERYBODY else having more fun than me?! Should I be drinking more beer? Spending more money? Eating less tofu? Settling down and having a family?

Man up, Tyler! Fuck you. Man down. Show some emotion. I need to cry a little, but I first need a shoulder to cry on. And a good hug. And maybe an ass to grab. Funny how that always puts a smile on my face.  Any volunteers? Plenty of ladyboys around here if I get desperate.

I’m starting to talk to myself. Actually that’s a lie. I’ve been doing that for years. You do too, right? Well, I think you don’t spend enough time alone. Unfortunately, the more time I spend alone, the less I like myself. Tired of seeing myself in the mirror. Tired of my hair, my belly. Fuck man, I need to incorporate some crunches into my daily routine. Hard to stay fit on the road with a declining metabolism and half my calories coming in the form of beer. Oh and 5 baht sweets from 7/11. Cut down on that shit, boy!

 I’m getting a little tired of wearing the same clothes. Steady rotation of shorts, t-shirts and boxers. Cutting off sleeves to make something ‘new’ and mix it up. Buying a new shirt and feeling this stupid feeling of accomplishment. I’m really tired of my flip flops and my board shorts and seeing my belly through my shirts. That’s discouraging. I don’t want to lose any weight, just reconfigure what I’ve got. Isn’t that everybody’s story. It’s not a question, it’s a fact.

I also hate spending money when I’m not earning any. Start thinking waaaaaay too much about finances and it’s too early to worry. Hmmm, should I go to 7/11 to buy a beer? Cheap fucker that I am. But sometimes that’s the best beer. It just tastes better. Eating a small portion on a big plate at some fine restaurant has never done it for me. Give me the street food, there’s more of it, it’s cheaper and it tastes better. Usually.

So, sigh, where does all this leave me now? Well, in the moment, it leaves me sitting cross-legged on my bed listening to music while being gently caressed by the breeze from the fan on the wall. I’d prefer a woman naturally. And having said that, you all know that’s my problem. I talk about them too much, especially pole dancers. So why don’t I get one? As if they’re available at the corner market. Well, here, in fact they are come to think of it.

That’s not where I meant to go. Why don’t I have a girlfriend? Ask me why I’m incapable of love. Ask me why and I won’t be able to tell you. I don’t know what the fuck it is and how to find it. To get it, to reach it, to feel it. I’m afraid of it, I think that’s my problem. I fear it, I don’t allow it and sometimes I wonder if that’s prolonging my pain. But first you have to love yourself, right? How do you do that?

I don’t want to think about this anymore. Time for a nap if I can just stop thinking.

A rough couple of days

The last two days have been rough. That’s why sometimes it’s better to fly than to take the bus. Might have been cheaper too and less of a ballache, but hey, it was an experience. For better or worse. I bought my ticket to leave Kuantan (Malaysia) the day before. Booked a VIP bus to Butterworth. From there, I hoped to catch the train to somewhere in the south of Thailand and make my way to one of the islands.

The guy said the bus departed at 9:15am so I arrived at 9 and the bus was late, of course. It was the beginning of Chinese New Year so this was actually expected. We left about an hour later and eventually arrived to Butterworth at 6:45pm (nearly two hours after the ETA). From there I took the 7:30pm bus to Alor Setar, which was the farthest to the Thai border I could get without taking a taxi. We arrived around 9pm and I was spent. Doing nothing but sitting on a bus all day takes the life out of you. Kind of like working in an office. At least I had some good food along the way.

I got the information I needed about how to proceed to the border the following morning and then checked out the hotels near the bus terminal. Not so pretty as you might imagine. Somehow, gauging from their exterior, I expected more and so I checked out about seven of them, as I do, until finally content with one, barely. I checked in and realized it was nearly 10:45pm. Fuck me, if I had a traveling companion, they would have killed me.

I hate listening to other people in adjacent hotel rooms. Fortunately it wasn’t too long before the lady next to me stopped sneezing and clearing her throat. Oh and I hate sharing bathrooms, but there were no other options. Well, sure there were for twice the price, but it was still going to be a shithole with a shithole inside rather than out. Anyway, I proceeded to nearly fill up a 1.5 liter bottle over the course of the night and drained it into the toilet the following morning. Like having your own bathroom - same same!

The following morning, I missed the local bus by 15 minutes. Fortunately they came every hour. However, I was given the option to hop on an express bus for RM10 – only RM4 than the local bus and 45 minutes earlier. Let’s do it. Good for me, good for the driver. The drive from Alor Setar to Changlun took maybe an hour. From there, it was a taxi to the border, the only option. I initially hesitated because I was told it was RM10-15 for the ride and the taxi driver told me RM20. Not a huge difference, but out of principle I waited to determine if it was the correct price. It was and eventually I was off and at the Thai border.

The lines weren’t too long fortunately and I gave my passport to the fat dick with glasses. Without a word he handed it back with an arrival card. Ah yes, glad they had these on visible display when I approached immigration.  I quickly filled it in, in red ink because I didn’t have blue or black, but wondering if it would be rejected by the border official. It didn’t say on the form and yes, it was rejected. The mask wearing, acne-faced whore inaudibly told me to fill it out again. What? She took off her mask and repeated herself, much to my dismay.

I went to the area to fill in the form, inconveniently located behind the immigration queues, where black ink was available. I quickly scribbled the information getting increasingly agitated despite the lines not being unbearably long. I got back in line behind one dude. He approached the border official and then out of nowhere, his father comes and hands him the rest of the family’s passports. Not cool so I motion for the douche to get in line like everyone else. He said his son was waiting in line for the family. We exchanged angry words. Fortunately nothing more as the line adjacent only had one person as well. So I moved there.

This time I got through without any hassle and I quickly proceeded to the 7/11 down the road, purchased a minivan ticket to Hat Yai and within 15 minutes we were on the road again. Since Hat Yai wasn’t my final destination, I was to be dropped off at the bus station. It was nice to feel more alive again, with the hustle and bustle of Thailand providing more stimulation than I’d had in recent days.

The driver failed to tell me we were at the bus station. I should have been more alert, but having never been there and not being able to see signs until we were leaving the station, I just sat there and didn’t say anything until the driver looked at me later presumably wondering why I was still sitting there. I got off with some other folks, negotiated the price with a motorbike taxi and went back to the station. Fun.

I got dropped off a random bus tour operator’s office and decided on Krabi instead of Surat Thani. In my head, I wanted to see Railay Beach in Krabi, Koh Phi Phi and then up to Surat Thani and Koh Pha-ngan. It was 9:45am and the minibus and the VIP both departed at 10:30am. Let’s me think. Minibus or VIP bus? The minibus takes 4 hours and costs 290B and the VIP bus takes 6 hours and costs 350B. Naturally, I chose the minibus.

And I was on the minibus for an hour and a half before we left Hat Yai. It was timely, I was picked up at 10:30am, but we circled and we circled and we circled, picking up and/or waiting for passengers to fill up that bus to capacity. And it was jammed and after we finally got moving, it did take only four hours to our final destination, Krabi. That was a pain in the ass, quite literally.

From Krabi, I was hoping to go to Phi Phi, but the final ferry of the day had already departed. Ok, I’ll go to Railay first, I decided. So after perhaps thirty minutes of indecision and waiting, those of us going in that direction hopped on the local bus, me standing off the back and feeling fresh again with the wind in my face. Eventually, we got to Ao Nang Beach, a much more happening place than Krabi Town and I was happy to have made that decision.

From Ao Nang, I was going to take a long-tail boat to Railay Beach. But I started hearing how expensive it was there and how the neighboring beach, Ton Sai, was more affordable and Railay was accessible from there. So, I hesitated at Ton Sai for a second, but stuck to my guns and continued on to Railay. I shouldn’t have. It was high season and at 7pm at night there was virtually nothing cheap available. A group of backpackers looking for cheap accommodation converged after coming up empty on the search for reasonably-priced accommodation and decided to trek back to Ton Sai.

We made our way over some rocks – fortunately it wasn’t high tide yet and eventually got to Ton Sai. Although the scenery was pretty amazing on both beaches, I wasn’t exactly digging the vibe. I had met some nice backpackers, but a beach full of white people in Thailand with overpriced food and drink isn’t exactly my scene. I don’t really know what my scene is to be honest.

Eventually and I do mean eventually, I ended up in a tent for 100B. That’s cheap, really cheap. And it was bare bones, but I was lucky to get it. I had a place to put my shit, a ‘roof’ over my head and a place to shit, shower and shave. What more do you really need? I only decided on this place because I realized I didn’t have enough money to afford any of the other places. I hadn’t gone to the ATM. Doh!

So instead of trekking back to Railay, where there was an ATM, or taking a long-tail back to Ao Nang, which I would have privately chartered and wasn’t an option, I opted for the tent. That way I could also get some dinner and not be a complete pauper for the night. Dinner was good and I had  a nice conversation with an Argentinian couple I met on the boat.  The dude at the bungalows was also really nice so despite a long, seemingly ridiculous day, it wasn’t that terrible.

I left Ton Sai Beach the following morning. I was content with my limited time there and went back to the over-touristy Ao Nang, but I was fine with that. At least there was more action and more normal accommodation options – not just overpriced bamboo huts. I think I used to be into that, in the olden days. But still, Ao Nang proved to be difficult as well. After about an hour in the heat, I finally found some luck in these very reasonably priced bungalows in which I currently reside.

Now that the heat has subsided some and the sun has gone down, at 5pm, it is time to hit the beach. I need to wake up and figure out if this place deserves another night  or if I’ll be on the road again…

*Wrote this a few days ago and finally getting a chance to post now. Currently in Ko Samui - much better than any of the places mentioned above!

Why I live in Asia

Occasionally I get asked by fellow backpackers or locals why I don't live in America. After all, it is heaven, right? It is where one can pursue and attain their dreams, right? It is the land of liberty and justice for all, right? Why am I not married yet? Why don't I have a good job and a lovely home surrounded by a white picket fence with 2.5 kids and a dog?

First of all, I hate dogs. Not to the extent I'd eat them, but don't force me to pet your dog and let him sniff my groin and lick my hands. Just don't dig that shit. And with dogs comes dog shit, definitely don't dig that shit. Foul to say the least. Almost as bad as finding a human turd on your lawn. Almost.

I seem to have strayed off the path. Ok, where was I...in America I am tied down. I don't like that. I don't like receiving mail. I don't like having health insurance or car insurance. I don't like having a car or relying on a car to get from point A to point B. I don't like sitting in a car. Of course, cars are nice sometimes, but I don't want one.

I also don't like paying taxes. Who does? If I can choose not to, then I won't. I also hate mobile phone contracts. Who thought of that shit? Outrageous, yet a whole society lives and breathes in that fashion. I want to buy a phone, put in a sim and keep it simple. Not agree to a 2-year contract of rules and regulations that keep me down.

So, let's see, mobile phone contracts, taxes, mail, cars, insurance...what else? It's not all about what I dislike about America, it's also about what I love about Asia. I love driving a motorbike, I love the abundance of cultures within a hop, skip and a jump. While any one southeast Asian nation may be less multicultural than California as a whole, an entire nation is waiting to be explored the same distance as another state back home. Hmmm....each of them so unique in and of themselves.

I also love Asian food. Way more than Western food. And I love being sexually attracted to women on a daily basis not just once a week when a particularly stunning but out-of-my-league woman happens to walk past. Yes, she's taken. She has more suitors than you have friends on Facebook. You can try, but you'll more than likely be shot down and your confidence will be decimated for weeks. In Vietnam or elsewhere, you can try, fail and try again within the hour with no damage done to said confidence. Oh, southeast Asia.

The cost of living is also a major plus to living in a developing nation. There are certainly advantages from being from a developed nation, particularly America. And even more advantages are given to white males from America. I try not to take that for granted. Lucky me, life is so easy and seemingly unfair (to others) at times yet I still find reason to complain. Me, complain? You don't know me.

I don't know what else to say. I think developing countries have an energy that is unparalleled in developed nations. Back home, everything is too clean, brushed under the rug and too expensive. Too many rules and things you can't do. There is more of a sense of being ALIVE in Asia, particularly southeast Asia and even more particular in Vietnam. That's why I chose that place.

Yes, the noise contributes to that sense of being alive. There is a constant energy that can only be compared to having just downed a red bull in a club with throbbing dance music and sweaty, sexy pole dancers all around. It's invigorating, but exhausting at the same time. But sometimes it's the perfect balance. I don't know if it is sustainable, I don't know how long I can hack it, but it does the trick now. And now is the only time we have.

Where am I now?

Thanks for asking. I'm in Malaysia, truly Asia. Or at least that's their little catch phrase. I think they forgot to tell us something. Malaysia, truly (the most boring country in all of southeast) Asia. But the marketing folks didn't like that all. I'm only speaking from my experience in peninsular Malaysia - I'm sure Borneo would be amazing as would the Perhentian Islands if they weren't closed for the season. Closed for the season? What!?

Oh, it's not that bad. I like to exaggerate, but it is a very tame place compared to the rest of this region. And tame often means boring, at least in my book. Developed countries are nice places to live, I think, but they make me yawn. Don't get me wrong, I'm awfully glad I'm from one and have the opportunity to get out and explore the developing ones - the ones that really make me tick.

So, Malaysia. Yeah, exciting stuff. Kuala Lumpur was actually much better the third time around. Get me outta Chinatown! I think that was the key. I stayed in Bukit Bintang this time and upgrading to nicer digs also helped my situation. Everything is quite modern, the public transport is borderline amazing and the food is good. A great mix of cuisines ranging from Western shit that makes you fat, very cheap and delicious Indian or Pakistani and Chinese, Malay or Thai. At least that's what I saw.

In general though, Malaysia is not cheap. That's the price of progress I guess. I really don't want to drink if it's $5 for a pint of cheap beer. And it's not much cheaper in the convenience store either. $3? Damn, it's cheaper, a lot cheaper in the states. So, well I can teetotal for a while. 6 nights already, what's a few more? Besides, it's nice to know that I can. I must say though, that a beer does sound good.

Anyway, moving right along. I am now in Kuantan, a city on the western coast of Malaysia. Some might argue with my geography skills, but I'm sticking to 'em and will post a map as if anyone actually cared. Last night I stayed in the CityLite Hotel, which was located in the red light district. Not many red lights, but there were plenty of ladyboys lurking in the shadows. I stuck to the well lit streets, popped an Imodium before I went out, clenched my cheeks and hoped for the best.

Kuantan, you see it over there? On the right, silly.

There was too much noise in that hotel, mostly from inconsiderate folks jabbering away and slamming doors at 2am. You'd think people would get it, but I've come to the realization that nobody gives a fuck. But even I am occasionally unconsciously inconsiderate of others. Inconsideration happens. But unfortunately happens more often than it needs to. There were also probably a million birds making their nest somewhere in the back of the hotel and the noise was appalling.

Thus, I am writing now from a different hotel, a few doors down near the 7/11 in case you need to find me. I'm in room B12 facing the main street, which is equally loud from the cars whizzing by, but I have a rattly old air-conditioner that I'm hoping will drown out some of the noise. That and a toilet that is constantly filling its tank and creating even more white noise. I wonder what will cause me the most irritation tonight. Or if the cotton in my ears will suffice.

Well, it's time to set you free and LOL at you if you are still reading. It's time for some local cuisine, some coffee, some sitting and watching, some shoe shopping, some walking and figuring out tomorrow. Thailand beckons! See you soon. Not YOU...Thailand.

Learning the local language

Before my travels began, I was told to try and pick up some Indonesian. It was supposedly one of the easier languages to learn, if not the easiest. And it’s almost the same as bahasa Malay as well, which as you might imagine, would come in handy when traveling in this region. Anyway, I’m not here to teach you the language, just introduce you to some words, which you will remember just by reading this one time.

The easiest words, for me, have been those ending in -si - either ISI, ASI or OSI. Examples include informasi, nutrisi, polisi, akomodasi,  masturbasi, promosi, and komposisi. No need for a translation, I hope.

The second easiest words to remember have been those that sound a lot like their English counterparts, but have a different spelling. Examples of those include telepon (telephone), televisi (television), teh (tea), es (ice), kopi (coffee), bas (bus), stesen (station), sama sama (same same), botol (bottle), bir (beer), tahu (tofu) and tempe (tempeh). Not surprisingly, many  of them are food and drinks.

The third easiest words to pick up and put away easily are those commonly used words you see and hear everywhere, such as selamat datang (welcome), terima kasih (thank you), masuk (enter), keluar (exit), masjid (mosque), nasi (rice), gula (sugar), wanita (woman), pria (man), jalan (street), jalan-jalan (walking or going for a stroll), buka (open) and tutup (closed) amongst many others.

My favorite words, because I know you care, are laki laki (another word for man), gila (crazy), orang (person) and toilet – perhaps the most globally-recognized word in existence – which comes in handy in those emergency situations.

Some key phrases to remember on your travels, which may come in handy:

Barapa harga?                                          What’s the price?

Saya suka kamu.                                       I like you.

Saya mau tirdur dengan kamu.               I want to sleep with you.

Satu bir yang besar.                                One big beer.

Nama kamu apa?                                      What’s your name?

Nomor telepon kamu apa?                      What’s your telephone number?

Saya mau pergi ke pantai indah.             I want to go to a beautiful beach.

Saya mau pergi ke masjid lokal.              I want to go to the local mosque.

Thanks for reading. Terima Kasih!

Annoying interactions

We all have them. Occasional negative exchanges with our fellow man in the midst of our own human struggles. Here are my two examples from today.

-----------------------------------------------example 1-----------------------------------------------------

The first one happened this morning. I had to get a ride to the airport at 4:30 this morning so I spoke to the motorbike driver last night. He said 40,000 so I said 30,000 and naturally he countered with 35,000. As it was quite early in the morning and only an extra fifty cents, I didn't push it any further and agreed to the deal. I sensed the price was reasonable to both parties, but still in his favor.

He initially took me to the airport through some back alleys, which I presumed was a faster route. I didn't want faster, just wanted comfortable. So we're dodging pot holes and going over random speed bumps. Not really into it. And then he's making random conversation, which however nice, wasn't that welcome that early in the morning. Just drive.

We arrive at the airport. I get off the bike and the first thing the dick says is Help me out, boss. Give me 50,000. Sorry man, we talked about this last night. He continued trying to get a few extra rupiah out of me. If I had really negotiated with this guy and actually liked him, I might have thrown him a little extra, but not since he asked. Especially not the way he asked. Probably worked for him in the past, but not this time.

I looked in my wallet for the exact change and surprised not to find it, I decided to offer him 40,000 if he had change for a  fifty. He said Sorry and pulled out a couple crumpled bills amounting to 7,000. Dick 'didn't have change' so I looked a little closer in my wallet. Feeling less than generous, I pulled out two dirty tens, two dirty fives, two twos and a one - the only small bills I had - and happily handed them over. Here ya go, ya fuck.

----------------------------------------------example 2------------------------------------------------------

The second one happened this afternoon. Feeling good and settled into my one star hotel in Kuala Lumpur, I entered the local 7/11 for a snack and some water. Half the shit in the store didn't seem to have a price, which is annoying in and of itself. I decided to take my chances. The fat lady behind the counter rang me up and announced the total, which to no surprise, seemed slightly inflated.

Me: How much is the water?
Lady: 1R70
Me: I don't want it.
Lady: (with attitude) I already rang it in.
Me: (with attitude) Well, take it off.

She stood there for a few seconds not knowing what to do and eventually subtracted the water from the total in her fat brain and asked for the new balance. I gave it to her and went across the street to buy a water from the competition. I showed her! Of course, I didn't, but out of principle I refused cause I never would have brought it to the register in the first place if the price had been marked.

And I let this shit get to me! Gad man, it's hard to have a really good day when you dwell on stupid shit like this. If I wasn't so cheap and I would have just said Yeah man, no problem, here's 50,000. Keep the change, bro! And said to her Hmmm, that seems a little expensive, but I bet that water will be amazing. Or if I could only do what I do and then forget about it.

Budget accommodation

What does budget accommodation mean to me? Affordable. No stars. No frills. Hopefully no bed bugs, but no guarantees. Usually a couple chairs outside to make it appear to be some relaxing bungalow. Perhaps some low-class noisy motherfucking neighbors, but also perhaps some cool-as-fuck, like-minded individuals who are also budgeting their holiday.

Budget accommodation might mean a towel and it might not. Often it’s threadbare. Occasionally it comes with stink included. Sometimes there is soap, sometimes there isn’t. Don’t count on it. And don’t count on any toilet paper either. Almost always a cold shower, sometimes a broken toilet seat, usually a leaky sink. Sometimes no sink!

No bathroom mat, more likely a folded towel. And some nasty bathroom odors that weren’t caused by your own gastrointestinal distress. I swear my shit doesn’t smell like that! Budget accommodation usually comes with one light bulb in the ceiling. It’s light enough, but not enough to see that zit on the side of your face. Just as well.

It also means you probably only have one electrical outlet in your room. And a bathroom door that doesn’t close. And perhaps a rat in the walls, a spider in the corner and some ants that have permanently nested in the rotting walls. But not always. There are nice surprises! Don’t forget the curtain. There’s always a ratty looking curtain that doesn’t close properly, but closes all the same. And the color of that curtain, say no more.

There is furniture, but its spartan. Usually a side table or a desk and maybe a chair, nothing fancy. And the bed, sometimes you win, sometimes you lose. I’ve had my shares of lumps, springs and stains. The sheets are also highly questionable. Were they recently washed or not? I usually gauge by the smell test. The sheet and/or blankets are probably the least washed and apt to be the smelliest items, which you just have to overlook. Don’t pull them up to your nose!

What have I forgotten? Ah, sometimes you actually get free breakfast. Coffee or tea and usually a pancake. Simple but sufficient. Occasionally a small plate of fruit. Bananas, watermelon and pineapple or the cheapest fruits wherever you are. Who wants a buffet for breakfast anyway? Not me. I rarely eat the pancake, never if comes with banana.

I forgot the fan. If you have air-con you’re spending a little more. And not on a tight budget. Occasionally I’ll splurge, but usually I don’t need it. An overhead fan is the most desirable, but you have to check if it squeaks. They work the best, in my experience, to drown out the noisy fuckers who sleep late or inconsiderately chat outside until the wee hours of the morning.

If you’re lucky you get a key to the door. More often than not, it seems, you have to struggle with the lock. Or have a loose door handle. If you really have a shithole, you’ll have a padlock on the door. I hate that. And for windows, you might not have glass, maybe just a mesh screen, which is nice to prevent mosquitoes and keep the air fresh, but makes things potentially noisier than they need to be.

What have I missed? What does budget accommodation mean to you? And where do you sleep when you go on holiday? I think I might upgrade to 1-star tonight. I’m feeling the need for a fresh towel, some wifi and a hot shower.  Every once in a while…

Last day in Indo

It's raining, again. I think this is perhaps the 11th day in a row. Not surprising since it is monsoon season, but this shit gets old, let me tell you. I haven't done shit for days. Let me make sure you read that right, I have taken shits, but haven't done shit. And doing nothing gets old!

I have enjoyed Indonesia. Yes, I had some rough bits in the middle and I nearly threw in the towel. I remember being stuck in Denpasar, standing in a downpour wondering how I was going to renew my visa and whispering to myself I give up. I fucking give up.

And strangely, from that point, everything has gone alright. In fact, I wonder how I ever really worried about anything that I previously worried about. Anyway! I think I'm ready to move on. Tomorrow, Malaysia beckons once again. I'm pretty sure the first thing to do there, will be to get on a bus to Thailand. I mean, I liked Malay food and all, but just don't find developing countries that fascinating, I guess.

I could easily spend more time in Indonesia. So much is unexplored. I've been lingering in Bali too long, going to clubs, drinking too much cheap booze, staring at pole dancers and distorting my mind. That shit ain't good for you. Alters your perception of reality and fucks you up! I'm talking about the pole dancers.

So, here I am in Kuta Bali, for the third time. I've managed to enjoy it here despite initial fears of hating this place. I put on my blinders and ignore the ignoramuses - mostly those guys wearing big muscles and a tank top. They're invisible to me. And if you can do that, this place ain't half bad.

Unfortunately I didn't get to try surfing again. I was too lazy this morning. I blame it on the rain, like Milli Vanilli. It has deterred me from doing a lot of things lately, but just walking around from cafe to cafe isn't that bad. I have managed to listen to 46 of 48 Learning Indonesian mp3s. I am proud of what I know even if I can't string it together as quickly as I'd like. Just wish I started studying sooner.

And here we are now at 5:45pm. I have to get up at 3:45am - not looking forward to that. Still drizzling outside, just killing time now or I'll be walking around deciding if I need another pair of board shorts or if buying that 'Two in the pink, one in the stink' t-shirt would be a good idea. I'll probably pass.

What else can I do? I got a motorbike with gas in the tank I'd like to siphon out before I return it at 8pm. But I don't feel like driving in the rain and getting pulled over by a cock, I mean cop who wants to get some extra beer money. They seem to be everywhere in Bali. And I can't eat all the time despite my recent love affair with Indonesian cuisine and tempeh in particular.

I can prepare my bags though and with that, I will end this ramble and sign off! Until I'm bored again...

Finally getting some exercise

I exercised for the first time today in six weeks! Unless you count snorkeling or walking or hiking or casually riding a bicycle or swimming a lap underwater or learning to surf or dancing in a club. I’m not one of those people. That shit is good for you, but it ain’t exercise. Like those people who take the stairs instead of the elevator and say they started a new exercise regimen. Or who go on a walk with ankle weights. Keep dreaming.

Anyway, I knew I brought my running shoes for a reason. And today I realized why. Actually it was yesterday. I saw a few dudes going for a late evening run while I was watching this sunset that never fully materialized and I thought why didn’t I think of that? I’m on a small island with a sandy trail that goes around the entire circumference. I have beautiful views all around me and the only noise coming from crashing waves the majority of the time. Although I have to admit I used my iPod. I needed some music and didn’t really want to hear how hard I was breathing.

And now, to be honest, I probably won’t exercise again for another six weeks. Those 45 minutes spread out over time equate to about a minute of strenuous activity a day. Nice! And I only use the word strenuous for lack of a better word. But having said that, I will have some more beach time in the upcoming days and plenty of opportunities to jog on the beach. I presume. Haven’t seen the beach yet. Looking for excuses already.

And now it’s time to eat again. Not much else to do on a long holiday. Wake up when I wake up. Eat. Go for a walk. Read. Sit in the hammock. Study some Indonesian. Eat. Drink. Shower. Swim. Converse. Go online. Update my facebook status. Blog. Take pictures. Look at the scenery. Judge people. Think about tomorrow. Refocus and try not to think. Enjoy the moment. Eat. Converse. Drink. Sleep.

Clubbing solo

Have you ever done it? It’s definitely not something that needs to be accomplished. I'm just curious if I'm the only one. It strikes me as being a little strange although I don’t mind doing it at times. I’ve done it in Saigon, Phnom Penh, Siam Reap and now, Kuta. I don’t think I ever went to a club in my twenties. And now in my mid-thirties I seem to be going all the time. Well, when I’m traveling anyway. It's something to do.

I went to Sky Garden for the fourth time in five nights. The fourth and most recent time I was alone. This place is so big and there are usually so many people you can just blend in. Be a fly on the wall. And that's all I wanted. Oh and they also had cheap drinks. So I wanted to partake in that and be in a social scene without actually being social. You know, listen to some decent music without jamming the ear buds in my ears and perhaps even get to watch some pole dancing. Free pole dancing? Twist my arm.

I had just come down with a cold and I had to wake up at 6am the following morning so it probably wasn’t the best time to go to the club, but I wanted a beer or two. I walked in shortly after 10pm. They knew where I was going. Every floor I ascended, there was somebody directing me to the next flight of stairs, leading eventually to the fourth floor and the free flow of cocktails from 10-11pm. Hard to beat a free drink even if it isn't particularly delicious.

I had one and wandered around. Went back grabbed another and went down to the first floor where I leaned on the mezzanine and watched the dance floor below me. Watched the guy in the tank top try to pole dance under the strobe. Life was in slow motion. I ran out of free mojo so I went back to get some more. I swore I was going to buy a drink and not just be a cheap bastard.

I eventually ventured back to my spot overlooking the dance floor. Shortly thereafter the music picked up and I spotted my love climbing the pole again. It was 11pm now. Apparently that’s the time when the club gets serious. The dancer captured my attention for a while, as they do. I needed a beer. I don’t know when they arrived, I think I was just distracted, but eventually I was in the company of four local girls. I couldn’t tell if they were working girls or just friends having fun. I hate to often assume the former, but it all too often seems to be the case.

They were quite nice and diverted my attention from the sweaty pulsating figure in the distance, but she was never far from the corner of my eye. They took some pictures with me, we danced a little and I bought another beer. And then some guy came by with a couple strawberry daiquiris and I drooled. They looked delicious. A quick comment about his beverage and soon we were chatting about women, lndonesia and our respective (recent) occupations. And then we were drinking another beer.

It was time to go. I knew I had drunk too much for such an early wakeup, but I wasn’t working so the missing brain cells wouldn’t be missed. Just the lack of sleep and a headache, but I could sleep on the bus and the headache would eventually go away. Another fine night of clubbing solo. Didn’t quite manage to be the fly on the wall as I had initially intended, but I think I had more fun than I otherwise would have. I might have to do this more often.

The Gili Islands

A year ago, I’d never heard of this place. And then a friend went. And another. And when I got to Indonesia, I heard about these islands far more frequently. Three relatively small islands off the coast of Lombock, Bali’s neighbor to the east. Paradise. A place to relax. A place to party. Best of both worlds.  A place with no paved roads, no motorized vehicles.

It is really nice - that’s the truth. But it's not that amazing. It wasn’t just discovered yesterday. The locals are quite friendly as usual, but there are an abundance of island boys. Young Indonesian kids, each with their own unique hairstyle, working for one of the various hotels, bars or restaurants and also trying to sell you magic mushrooms to ‘take you to the moon’ or offering up wacky tobacky. There is no police on the island they tell you. There’s nothing wrong with the abundance of local dudes other than it gets old having someone call you ‘boss’ or asking if you want some mushrooms.

Most of the people here are tourists drinking overpriced beer and overpriced westernized local food. If not overpriced beer, then expensive cocktails or inexpensive cocktails made with local liquor. I suppose it’s not overpriced compared to back home, but compared to every other southeast Asian country it is and when you’re traveling for a long time it seems crazy to spend half your budget on alcohol. So I don’t.

You do get a nice view here though. And a nice place to sit when drinking that beer, but I prefer local scenery as opposed to the abundance of Western bodies. Aside from decent conversation, and that is nice, there is not much incentive for me to stay out late. I get tired. Yawn. I guess I’m saving money by going home earlier than I otherwise might.  There are only so many conversations you can have involving the questions Where are you from? How long are you traveling for? Where have you been before? Where are you going next?

Having said that, if you get past all the seemingly requisite bullshit, sometimes you do meet good people. And good people are essential to a person traveling on their own. Fortunately I’ve run into quite a few despite being a little antisocial at times. At times, however, when I’m not very conversational and instead feeling quite judgmental, I prefer to drink a quiet beer and eat some food alone while watching the world around me. And of course, silently judge them.

Anyway, here I am. Day three on Gili Trawangan. I’m predicting I’ll be over all of this by day five. Move on. I should try snorkeling again. Swim with the fishies and inhale some more salt water. It’ll be good for my sorish throat. Although I must say I don’t really like swimming in salt water, it stings my eyes and makes my skin feel funny. Nor do I really like sand. Gets all over the place, including my crack, but even worse is on the bed. Or in my pockets.

I’m going to be no fun tonight. I might need a red bull to kick start this evening. Just need a little boost otherwise I won’t have any patience to talk to anyone. Hopefully meet some random new people to spice it up. The old people are good people. Keeping me busy and entertained. Without them, I’d have met some other random people and have been doing other random stuff.

Almost time to go eat. The food market or whatever the fuck it’s called is the place to be. No overpriced shit there. No 10% added tax + 5% service fee. Fuck those surprises. Besides, it’s difficult to meet people when you’re at a private table. The food market is family style. Pick the local food vendor of your choice, stand in line, say what you want and go sit down next to whoever you want. 

In theory, it’s a good place to go scope out the scene before it gets too dark or you get too drunk to really know what’s going on. However, in reality, for me anyway, I just want to eat something that pleases my taste buds, indulge in that for a few minutes and just relax although I'll always be paying attention to the passing scenery as well. If it happens to be nice, I’ll enjoy the view.