Chiang Mai: The Food Was Good.

The five of us arrived at some point in the afternoon. I think we had different ideas on what was next, but what was immediately next was coffee and internet.

So we found a hostel, suited me. Had a pool too, so absolute bonus, even if the pool was a bit fly flecked. And soon we realised the famous Chiang Mai night markets were starting imminently, on the streets right outside.

Firstly it was full of crafts - jewellery, hanging things, sarongs, clothes, toys - and then food. The food was out of this world. I mean, yes, there were chicken heads. Yes the fish was barbecued in front of your eyes. Yes there were who knows how many different broths, stews and general deliciousness with varying ingredients most of which were indiscernible.

I ate a soup with pork, noodles, lots of spices, and a juice - one from one of the many juice stalls where you can just point at the fruits you like and they'll shove them all into the blender together to make fruity nutritious loveliness. 

Same same, but different

Next day I was due to fly north to Chiangmai. Was due to.

I hitched to the airport. The roads were in chaos with flooding, the airport was in chaos with people sprawling across every inch of covered check-in floor space. No go.

Several hours later I met four Essex kids in the queue by exchanging wifi codes. They took me under their wing and introduced me to the glorious intricacies of Essex banter. Great fun.

We kind of got through into a flight lounge but the plane still showed no signs of turning up. The airline brought everyone boxes of flight food in an attempt to placate us. One Mancurian wove his was around the sitters down high on whatever he still had left over from the full moon party.

FINALLY at about 8pm there was an announcement. No flight. Cancelled. Same flight tomorrow, same time, same place. (Same same, but different - now I understand the popular Thai saying). 

Andy took charge and sorted us all out with complimentary hotel rooms. 5* double ensuite yes please.

Next day, still raining. Same same but different. Oh and I'd had the most horrific food poisoning and so had not made nearly as much use of the luxury double as I should have.

Same same but different - hotel this night was an eastern influenced wooden delight interspersed with fountains and meandering waterways. This double room had a sliding glass window onto a massive bath, which certainly went some way to easing the pains of a doubly delayed flight.

Eventually we got to Chiangmai on Saturday.

Leaving Koh Tao

Oh misery!

Not only was it pouring as Tom, Brad, Sam & I hitched our open truck back to the port, it meant goodbye to many of the people I'd met during my week on the turtle island (it's name is something about a turtle..)

We were some of the first at the pier and as we munched a Thai breakfast roll some familiar faces from the festival kept popping up! Carolina was one I will remember as she floated off down the jetty with a mysterious smile. And the mop of yellow hair with his guitar.

We eventually arrived at Koh Samui at some point in the afternoon - to even more torrential rain. The boys thought it was best to sort out our stomachs first, so we found a suitable bar and some wifi for next on the accommodation hunt.

Unfortunately the rain didn't look like it was going to ease, so we went for it and found ourselves knee deep crossing the road, wading in search of a hostel (the wrong way) for somewhere nearing an hour. 

Finally when we did get there it turned out our room had been leaking. So crossed over again and gave up, which in this case meant paying an extra tenner for a two room suite.

New Year - New Friends

By far one of the best things I did in the whole of Thailand was psytrance. (And yes, I know this isn't exactly a typical Thai activity, but it happened as part of my travels all the same.)

The Aussies from Bangkok had told me about The Experience Festival on Koh Tao and on day two (I don't last long just sunbathing all day) I thought why not. So partnered up with Linus again and we decided to walk / hitchhike up the mountain (hill) to find out what it was all about.

As I was sipping beer at the entrance (obviously I bought glass bottles to a festival) guess who wanders past: Axel, Phil & Koda - perfect timing! So they show us the ropes (actually I think they sloped off for a snooze) and we get partying. For three days.



So many cool people there I felt out of depth. But made a few new mates too - plus came back with a whole list for the next trip (festivals to go to, people to meet, countries to visit).

Plus night swimming...

The festival was perched on an outcrop of mountain (hill) with the main stage bordered by two wooden balconies overlooking two valleys either side, stretching out to the forest, the bay and the sea. Scattered over each slope down from the main stage were everyone's tents and then down a tottering track a secret cove for night swimming under an upside-down crescent moon with one bright star picked out in the heavens.

Oh and hitchhiking home on the back of a scooter, more swimming and sleeping in a bunk as the rain came down in a tropical storm almost hammering so loudly it could drown out the noise of the air-con. Lots of experiences along with The Experience.

Beaches and beers

Koh Tao is the bees knees. Perfect sandy beaches, appropriately placed palm trees, huts lining the seashore selling mango smoothies, pad thai and banana pancakes. 

Good old Tom (ex housemate) met me after the sick boat ride. Swede Linus and I wobbled our way up the hill as Tom led us in search of some breakfast to settle our stomachs. He kindly put up with my lack of sleep and pale face and so after checking me into the 20 bed dorm where he and his two other travel companions (step-brother Sam and friend Brad) were staying we decided a day on the beach in the sun was in order. 

As I mentioned before, the most incredible banana pancake (+ nutella) and mango smoothie were consumed. 

Food on Koh Tao ranged from burgers (mostly avoided on my behalf - much too British - in fact managed to avoid most of the British on the island where possible too...) to fresh fish - my preference. Oh and what fresh fish it was. On my final night persuaded the boys to take me to one of the places where you could point at a fish and they'd cook it there in front of you and toss it on a plate with a mound of rice. It was lush. No more needs to be said. 

In between the sunbathing, swimming, beer quaffing and fish fondling I did frequent one of those flame throwing beach parties you hear about. The Thai's practising said flame throwing were nuts - both in that they were incredible, and actually nuts. One in particular was poy-tastic. The flaming limbo was a laugh, although we didn't have a go (much too sensible obviously, what was coming over me?!). Again unbelievably, two Thai guys limbo-ed under about 2 foot of space, one holding the other off the floor, and then another of the Thai men on the beach picked up an unsuspecting girl from the crowd and sidled his way under the spitting rope holding her too.

Calm before the storm

Because this picture is beautiful. It was damn early though. (Prequel to the 'sick boat').

Thailand's Treasures

Day two yielded many more Thai treasures. Quickly I got used to a few things:

• If you want to get across a road you just go for it
• Walking is by far the best means of transport, if you don't want to get fleeced that is
• A certain amount of fleecing is to be expected
• The king is final.
• The old king is even more final.
• Street food is the best (obviously)
• Thai's don't really like having their photo taken
• Unless it is a selfie
• In which case you're best of joining in and taking your own selfie

So I walked right through Chinatown and who knows where-else, past so many shops piled to the ceiling with pretty much everything - one shop seemed to specialise in tyres, the next would be mini temple things, and all of them had one of those mini temple things established outside surrounded by half-full cups of colourful juice, snacks and incense. 

This was the lovely lady who cooked my lunch. Sitting peeling peanuts in front of her neighbour's shop, which was, as afore mentioned, piled high with all sorts. 

Lunch, before the 15 ft gold buddha, was my favourite, noodle soup - chilli, pork three ways, beansprouts and herbs. All cooked in under 2 minutes, on the street corner.

The 15 ft solid gold buddha was... well rather gold. I like how Buddha is always smiling. And people are welcomed to go right up to him, kneel, pray, offer gifts, just generally be there, celebrate and be happy. It's not really like any other religion I've encountered. 

After some praying (these girls did some on my behalf) I did some more walking. And after the walking, checked out and did some waiting. 

Decided to get the local bus as thought it would be cheaper - in fact it was - it was free, and I made some new friends on the bus too - the lady bus conductor kept giving me a cheeky smile, and then finally when I did get a seat and got to move from the dusty floor in the space between the front window and the seats, the lady I sat next to wanted to show me all her favourite pictures of pretty English houses... very strange. 

The destination: Koh San Road. 

Thoughts: tourists. Lots of them.

Activities: catching another bus.

People met: 1 kiwi, 1 Canadian, 1 Swede.

Departure time: 9pm

Arrival time at next destination: 4am

Next leg: sick-boat x 2 hours

Things learnt: take some serious travel sickness pills, don't sit in the open air on the boat, even if it looks like the better option for not being ill - it's not, remember not to eat anything at least 8 hours before catching a boat (fortunately this time due to the most comfortable coach... and some good conversation, no food was consumed yet on the other hand, little sleep was had). 

Here's the man himself.

Asian Adventures #1

It's a few weeks now since I got back from my solo adventures. What sticks in my mind most is the people I met. So this blog isn't so much about travelling but about the journey via some amazing people.

I set off from Birmingham on Boxing Day. Mum was a little too emotional for a three week tour (well I suppose I was a girl going alone somewhere she'd never been before, having not booked anything apart from one night in Bangkok). Dad was possibly even more concerned, to my amusement.

'Don't get in any taxis on your own'. Obviously I did. On the first day.

I arrived in Bangkok at 9am after an overnight flight, making the most of the free wine and movies and only sleeping for about 2 hours. Proudly negotiated the airport link and sky train and found myself in the central shopping district near my hostel. Checked in to prison-like four bed dorm, showered, and went out exploring. The time for sleep was not now.

I spent most of the day acclimatising to the noisy highways and inner-city temples blistering in the sun.

At one of the many temples I got chatting to the Thai guide at the entrance. He said I just MUST go to the river, and just HAD to get a boat trip to see the city from the water. Oh and WAIT, here was a tuk tuk who could take me to this super secret dock where a 'cheaper' boat would leave from!

The boat trip was pretty underwhelming, verging more on the terrifying than relaxing. But as I was quickly learning there were few boundaries in Thailand. The driver was on a mission, ragging the narrow river boat through the winding canals - basically the city folk's back yards.

After two hours or so 'cruising' got back on soil ground. The Belgians who'd been my boat companions didn't seem to much want to socialise, but as we were leaving three rucksack-ed up Aussies strode up in search of an afternoon beer. Perfect. 

I joined the gang and headed in search of the promised land. However apparently Bangkok doesn't sell beer (at least in the shops) between 2-5pm. We walked for way too long, but eventually found a suitable back street with a corner store piled high with everything. A couple of Thai guys were sitting outside on mini plastic stools drinking so they couldn't exactly deny that they had beer. We joined in. For a few hours. 

The Last Leg

The final leg of the Brazilian adventure was - as seems to be the pattern - not as straight forward as planned.

Firstly there were only two boats off the island a day. 11am and 4pm. Our flight from Rio was in the evening (agreeably not until 9pm, but still) so we (I) opted for the early journey. Back on land we were literally packed to the rafters with everyone's bags - there was certainly no quick fire escape from this mini bus.

The drive back into the city was actually fine, despite Rio traffic generally being some of the most horrific. We arrived at the airport a full five hours before departure. And there really is not a lot to do at Rio airport. Listen to the samba school music on repeat perhaps... but that's about the extent of it.

Finally on the plane (awful air Iberia, no movies, no space, no free drinks) and back to Madrid at some unearthly hour in the morning.

Madrid airport is a little bigger than Rio. A little bigger in fact that we nearly missed the connecting flight as we were sat in the wrong terminal.

A kind airhostess spotted the stupid English and ushered us onto an inter terminal bus, and straight onto the plane back to Blighty.

But we're not there yet. The little aircraft flew into London City airport, the other side of London to where we departed, and where my little Clio was parked. And it was mid-afternoon tube rush hour.

And THEN back to the car at full on rush hour, and... it had a puncture!! Sort the puncture, get on the road home THE WRONG WAY!!

Anyway, what's important is we did get home, eventually. (Or is that even important?)

Signing off from the Brazilian adventures. For now.

Ilha Grande - island hopping

Final stop on the South American adventure: Ihla Grande. Backpackers playground, Emily sick inducing jealousy centre.

We took a mini-bus from Paraty winding along the coastline to a smelly town and pier where we'd catch the boat out to the island paradise.

Ihla Grande was the point on the trip (appropriately about two days before we're due to return) where I really felt that I could do more of this travel lark. Meeting so many travellers who were either on their way around the whole of the southern continent, or on their way back, turned me a shade of forest.

But our few days in the fleshy jungle and on the hot sands was nothing to be sniffed at.

High point was the boat trip - a whole 9 hours in blistering Brazilian sun speeding around every corner of the island. The little boat was filled with 15 Europeans and true to form the mad dogs and Enlgishmen chose to sit out front with no sun shade. Cue this fantastic picture of the boys mid-afternoon.

Had a great time floating off snorkel masks in full action, as we were gently caressed around the corner of the bay by the sea whilst in search of puffafish and tortoises. Also included in this most brilliant day; jumping off rocks, climbing in and out of the speed boat at each beautiful beach, making new friends and generally having a fab time - none of which I have a photo of (of course).

So instead here's a pretty beach shot...

Seas of green and skies of blue

Swimming, boat riding, relaxing. That's all.

A drive down south

After the incredulous experiences of Rio we felt we were in need of a little relaxation - que most luxurious hotel yet; Pousada do Ouro.

The journey was just under 4 hours - a blink of an eye for a Brazilian. We saw traffic tailing back most of the way, as Rio's population returned to their day jobs after the carnival holiday. Luckily Parati was not the destination of choice this side of festivities.

Finally we turned off the main road into the medium sized fishing town. It was not quite as colloquial as we were led to believe however once we were past Brazil's version of the one stop, the mini bus trembled its way around the historic centre, along the biggest cobblestones I'd ever seen. We circled the town centre (perhaps made up of just 10 rows of buildings) and parked up on a patchy grass bank near a double garage door. Closed for siesta perhaps?

The staff of the oversized pousada were not long to come to our aid and as we trundled along behind our suitcases we were revived from the drive by tumbling leafy outdoor corridors and tinkling water. 

Our room was over the other side of the cobbled street, through a bright yellow door with a window in it, and along another open corridor with colourful windows either side. Up some stairs and into a chilly but traditional room with rustic style bathroom. Not the epitome of comfort but oh so gorgeous.

We mucked around in the hotel for the remainder of the afternoon, enjoying the colonial settees, patterned paintings, dabbling in the geometric pool and supping fruity caipirinhas.

In the evening we went out to celebrate Jonny's 29th. After circling the block under the soft glow of the street lights and the murmur of music, we found a sufficiently upmarket restaurant which served traditional fish dishes. I had octopus on bruschetta followed by white fish with rice and Jonny had spiced soup with a juicy steak, washed down with a deep burgundy red. A wonderful evening.

Rio's A-listers

Taking a step back… (the whirlwind that was carnival mixes the mind a little, not least the order of the photos!) So, before our second night of carnival we were bundled along the coastline to the most exclusive part of town, over looking the south end of Ipanema beach. The tower blocks here are not as high, and although they may be overlooked, they aren't overlooked by just anyone. 

We were invited to an exclusive BBQ on the roof terrace of Goncalo's sister Seline's and their parents' private flat. We entered through the car port at the bottom, with a polite, rather large, Brazilian with dark glasses to hold the door and summon the lift. The lift took us to floor 2 where we found another big, dark oak door with giant bronze knocker. Through the living area, adorned with African art and glinting sculpture, we went outside to the pool side terrace where a handful of floatily clad Brazilians and Americans were clustered around a table decorated with fruit, a selection of alcohol and an ice bucket of beer.

The roof terrace was unbelievable. Glass balcony around the front side, with sliding doors onto the main room of the house. A side room was kitted out with a brick BBQ, along with chef, and aforementioned bar. Four tables with beautiful white canvass sun umbrellas sat between the pool and the glass wall, overlooking Ipanema beach.

After a couple of beers to loosen the vocal chords we got down to the business of mingling (luckily Michael knew several of the Americans who were all in the racehorse sect) and Selina coaxed a few lucky ones out into a chink of stone where a DJ and a rather glamorous dancer were already flinging around a few moves. We were to learn the salsa ahead of the evenings festivities. Oh dear.

Of course, with flip-flops Jonny did not take so easily to the dance, and the crowd of bespectacled gentlemen the other side of the pool was not exactly encouraging, although, in true Brazilian style, everyone is admired and dance is part of the language.

The afternoon got hotter and meat appeared (I think some of which was a small animal's kidney). We met some interesting people, spoke with Selina who was cultivating a wild grass rooftop above the patio, and briefly met the big dogs - Goncalo's parents, who were sensibly sitting inside.

At about 6pm we took our leave and went for a couple of hours rest before continuing the party at the sambadrome. But it was certainly an afternoon not to be forgotten.

Christ who redeems us...

Saturday and Sunday night were spent in the luxury of Goncalo's three storey box at Rio Carnival's sambadrome. You may have seen the pictures. Here's a few more incase you missed them:

So the carnival was unbelievable. Highlights (apart from the luxury of the heavily air conditioned box, with champagne, sushi, stunning company and English speakers, were

1. the giant white eagal which was lowered to 'fly' beneath a TV bridge

2. the 'host' dancer (or if it were a ceilidh it would be the 'caller') who initiated the dancing amongst the English / American crowd

3. of course, taking part in the 1.5 hour parade through the purpose built, concrete sambadrome

Arriving back to our hotel a second night only vaguely before sunrise, we knew we only had one more day in Rio. So sight seeing it was. Need I mention that the breakfasts at the Grand Marina Palace hotel were exceptional? 

El Christo - what a stunner. Unfortunately he was wracked by an inopportune flock of humans scaling the thin point of rocky outcrop to smooth his big toe, or more commonly for 2015, to take a 'selfie' using said 'selfie-stick'. The crowds quickly scared us off after capturing his holiness in this beauty.

And on to no.2 biggest landmark it was… Sugar Loaf Mountain, aptly named, after a sugar loaf. Imaginative. Luckily one of the Brazilian storms was fast approaching (lightning striking el Christo) so the mass swarms of tourists were diminished slightly.