Flying out from Toronto in the morning, time seemed to accelerate as we plied an arctic route to Hong Kong, which shortened my day substantially. The flight was more than 15 hours long, making it the longest (brutally so) flight I've ever taken.
That's why I was happy to get out of H.K's new Lantau airport to spend the day walking around the city centre. I was gladdened by the fact that Hong Kong still maintained its aesthetic quality, post-Chinese take over. The 25 C ocean breeze was refreshing as well. I felt recharged as I boarded my second bird for a thankfully shorter flight to Bangkok in Thailand.
Despite the mayhem, congestion and pollution synonymous with this city, Bangkok is a good place to base yourself for exploring the region because of its long experience with tourism and the wonderful infrastructure that facilitates it.
It was almost midnight when I cleared formalities but I had no worries. In a heartbeat, I was seated on an express bus which bee lined from the colossal new airport in Suvarnabhumi directly to the backpacker Mecca on Khou San Rd. in the heart of the city.
After securing a Spartan shoebox of a room in one of the area's cheap hotels, I hit the street for a closer look. Seeing Khou San after a 15 year hiatus all I could think was "Wow". It was touristy then but now, enormous neon signs were squeezed in front, behind, under and on top of more and more neon saturating the length of the road's 400 metre gauntlet where hordes of backpackers and locals filled the street shopping, eating, boozing and whoring everywhere in a drunken disregard of the stifling heat and humidity that clung to them like shadows.
They wove everywhere among the sea of vendors selling everything from fake press cards to pirated DVD's to any souvenir you could possibly care for. Essentially, the steamy night had become an electric day here. Several sources of deafening music competed for decibels, creating a constant wall of sound. Looking up and down the endless string of restaurants, travel agencies, night clubs, massage parlours and internet cafes, I found one word that would suffice to describe it all: Vegas.
I was quite exhausted but still managed to hit a few clubs and have a few beers before retiring for the evening. Next day was almost purely logistics as I had to scope the first leg of my trip to Myanmar (Burma). I was relieved that the embassy had resumed issuing visas just prior to my application. I would have to wait 4 days for the visa to be ready but had no desire to stay glued to Bangkok's mayhem. On a cool British guy's advice, I decided to bail the following day out of the metropolis to the wonderful town of Kanchanaburi to wait for my visa.
With the decision made, I took a water taxi from the central pier along the Chao Phaya River , past the beautiful temple Wat Arun, and back to to the Khou San area. I bought my plane ticket to Rangoon before enjoying a relaxing Thai massage to work out all those kinks I acquired from my Red Eye. I also watched some Kickboxing and dined on Pad Thai before having a laugh touring the various markets and Go Go bars of Bangkok's infamous Patpong area -the most blatantly obvious warren for Thailand's sinfully iniquitous denisens. It was almost 3 am when I staggered into a took-took (motorcycle-taxi) for the speedy return to my shoebox.
Next day I boarded the bus to Kanchanaburi on the famous River Kwai. Although it lay a mere 2 hours away from Bangkok, it is worlds apart, free of the capital's smog with a much quieter pace. I stayed in a cabin overlooking a shady garden with hammocks situated right on the river itself with the mountains of Burma on the horizon.
After checking out the famous Bridge Over The River Kwai, I took a day trip out to this Tiger Temple, which struck me as something out of Eden. Buddhist Monks leading fully-grown tigers around on leashes like oversized pussycats. The place is a Buddhist Temple but doubles as a sanctuary, practicing ex-situ conservation for the orphaned tigers all brought in from the region.
I was beside myself as I was led beside a few of them to pet them and have my photo taken doing so. I also videotaped a wild boar stampede right in the middle of the rush.
It was really dramatic and unnerving but when the dust settled I couldn't wipe the smile off my face. I got to sample some deep-fried insects at the night market there. Eventually I had to return to the "arm-piteous" metropolis to catch my plane to Rangoon, the capital of Myanmar.
I had mixed feelings landing in Rangoon (Yangon) but I soon discovered they would be mute. Furthermore, a former schoolmate of mine from elementary school had taken up a teaching position in Rangoon and invited me to stay with her while I was in Burma's capital. Joanne is quite the traveler/photographer so between us there was no shortage of travel stories to share. (Jo and her roommate Graydon were caught in the middle of the devastating tsunami in 2004 - that was one incredible nail-biting tale.)
Apparently the true number of casualties reported by the ruling Junta was in truth 100 fold. Joanne said the massacre happened a kilometer away from her pad. There was an uneasy quiet that had settled across the land in the aftermath and I had to downplay my background in photojournalism. I took Joanne's advice on this matter and said that I worked in advertising (which is actually not completely inaccurate). It was also difficult to get internet access and when I did I had to utilize this back-door program to get access to my hotmail.
Despite all the obstacle imposed on the Burmese and travelers in the country, I should say that it was really impressive to see the smiles and courtesy of the wonderful Burmese people amidst all the oppression of their military dictatorship. It's impossible not to fund the Junta by going to Burma, but I did try to spread the wealth around a bit, tipping and spending graciously and as locally as I could in an effort to offset this reality. One thing that really surprised me was the amount of English that is spoken here, mostly by the older generation. It's understandable when you consider that Myanmar was a former British colony.
The highlight of Rangoon is, hands-down Shwedagon Pagoda which is Yangon's crown jewel. I have seen images of this giant golden temple all my life through post cards, calendars and such, but nothing can prepare you for it's visual impact live. It dominates the capital's skyline from far away but up close it's simply daunting. I stayed there till after dark capturing stills and video clips. Being a sacred site I had to walk around barefoot which accentuated the humbling effect of standing in the giant pagoda's midst. As for the rest of the city I was reminded of Madagascar's capital, Antananarivo. It was a lot quieter than Bangkok with a lot more greenery and lakes adorning the various streets and esplanades.
After a couple of nights in Yangon, I boarded a night-train to Mandalay, the hilly former capital of the country. Highlights here included walking up the hundreds of steps that mark the entry to the Pagoda on Mandalay Hill, checking out the Central Palace and photographing Buddhist monk silhouettes walking across the Ubein Bridge at dusk. I also checked out the marionette toting Moustache Brothers at night.
Eventually I hopped onto a boat for a six-hour journey cruising down the Irriwaddy River connecting Mandalay to Bagan. Less than an hour after we weighed anchor we came across a series of picturesque hill adorned with a myriad of temples and pagodas. Impressive as it was, the visage was but a precursor to what I would see in Bagan.
The archeological zone of Bagan (pronounced bah- gun) spans 42 square km but is completely inundated with more than 3000 temples and pagodas of various shapes and sizes which I explored through a combination of bicycle and horse drawn carriage.
Unlike Angkor Wat in Cambodia, which is shrouded in canopy and rot, the various Hindu and Buddhist temples of Bagan, built mostly during the 8'th century, are located in wide open steppe rendering them easy to access and photograph. Nothing beat climbing the steep rampart of steps to the top of one of the largest temples to watch the sun set over the 360-degree panorama of temples. It was breath taking!
The dust took my breath away as well. It's dry and dusty in Bagan, year round and it really played havoc with my breathing. I also had a difficult time breathing when I thought I fell under the scrutiny of the Junta.
I was dining alone in an empty restaurant somewhere in the heart of New Bagan when the restaurant filled up with nothing but uniformed Burmese who instantly became focused on this honky. My entire meal was eaten under their eye and sideways glances. They started bringing stuff to my table and hanging over my shoulder, in front of me. They offered me a bottle of water and hailed me in Burmese. I smiled in return, rather uneasily anxious now to get back on my bicycle and scoot away. Well the joke was truly on me when I saw this juggernaut of a fire engine skid to a halt in front of the restaurant's open façade and all my uniformed watchers clamor aboard and hightail it out of there. Through the new cloud of dust the fire truck had left me, I simultaneously laughed at myself and coughed up a lung. It was a taste of Myanmar culture at it's most hilarious.
Another thing I could appreciate was completing a cultural equation between India and Thailand. Being here in Bagan, I felt like I was at the crossroads between the two distinct cultures where elements of both prevailed. Generally speaking, at different times the Myanmar vibe seemed to alternate between Indian, Siam and Chinese. This chameleon exchange fascinated me to no end but alas I had to make tracks.
I got on a night bus for the 14-hour trip back to Rangoon. It was uncomfortable at first but eventually I nodded off and woke up in the capital just before dawn. I got on a plane that same day and after a single night back in Bangkok boarded another bird to Cambodia.
15 years had passed since the last time I was in the land of the Khmers. During my previous visit in 1992, the country was upside-down with UN peace-keeping forces running around everywhere and a logistical nightmare to simply get a visa for the country let alone make any attempt at plying the horrible road from Phnom Penn to the ruins at Angkor Wat. I vowed that I would return someday to explore what has become a wonder of the world. It's incredible how Cambodia has picked itself up in that time. It was actually daunting and a little disappointing just how far they have come. Angkor Wat has become a Khmer Disneyland!
Wanting to take advantage of this newly available Cambodian convenience I flew from Bangkok directly to Siem Riep (It means Siam [Thai] defeated [even though they weren't]) which lay a mere 7 km from the most famous and biggest temple of the site, the mysterious, moat surrounded Angkor Wat.
Like in Bagan, I made use of a bicycle here, which I found to be the most efficient way to explore and photograph this wonderful site. It was fascinating to immerse myself in the labyrinthine corridors and passages within the main site but equally so to get on my bike and commute under the forest canopy to explore all the other temples of the Angkor.
One of my favorites was Bayon with its plethora of stoic Buddha faces adorning every available turn of a passage and wall. It was exceptional watching the warm glow of the sun at dusk on these faces that have continued to look out since the late 12'th century, unaffected by the ravages of time.
One temple that hadn't faired as well as Bayon was Ta Phrom. Ironically Ta Phrom's unique charm lay in that very fact. It is being swallowed back by the forest partially disseminated by the spiraling, crushing, twisting passage of roots and limbs of the surrounding, penetrating trees that tower above the rotting walls and ramparts of this lost city.
At times I was hard pressed to find a place of solitude without the throngs of tourists milling about, to appreciate the marvelous architecture that filled the cinema of my mind, but when I did it was a treat indeed. I would just sit there and imagine being there at the height of the Khmer Empire's magnificence when it spanned an area north to southern China, south to Malaysia, west to the Assam state in India, and east to the Mekong Delta in Vietnam. I was sitting in the heart of this now quiet ancient empire envisioning the Khmer people walking around me coming and going in their daily affairs. It was beautiful. I had to have my pic taken by the elephant tree, which looked as though a skeletal wooden hand was flash frozen as it grappled a wall a moment before ripping it asunder.
I videotaped this plant that would suddenly close up if your hand drew too close. I had my arm chewed by an old monkey as I sat on the forest floor, photographing members of his harem. I climbed a step-laden hill to it's summit where the temple Phnom Bakheng awarded me with a commanding view of some of the surrounding sites. Even while using the net, a cockroach scuttled down the wall beside my head just in time to be swallowed up by a gecko lizard that moved as though he was equipped with turbo boost! Bon Appetite!
I also got to see Angkor's main temple from the air when I arose "up, up and away in my beautiful balloon." Even though we were on a tethered line, it was an experience being in the Hot air balloon 200 m up meandering and pitching according to the slightest whim of the breeze.
On my last night, I got Angkor Wat all to myself and got to see part of a Son Et Lumiere show as darkness fell, Apart from the odd custodian the whole interior was deserted. It was a fitting way for me to cap off my exploration of the area and to say goodbye to the enchanting site.
I returned to Bangkok to find a party in full swing. It was the King's 80'th birthday and that meant revelry on a new scale. Traffic moved at a snail's pace as Thai nationals, all wearing banana coloured shirts to mark the occasion partied along the mega watt powered, blindingly lit, glitz laden esplanades underneath a steady stream of fireworks and a cacophony of music. It felt like Bangkok's answer to Rio's Carnival!
I bee-lined for my travel agency and secured a seat for the next leg of my journey before checking into a hotel and then joining in all the festivities.
My next leg would take me to new turf once again and slightly off the beaten path as I flew to my 133'rd country, The Sultanate of Brunei on the island of Borneo. It was a wonderful experience setting foot on Borneo but equally so discovering this tiny country,
In truth, it is aptly named Brunei Darussalam -Abode of Peace for it is exactly that. There is an instant vibe I felt landing in the country's capital Bandar Seri Begawan, not unlike the palpable Zen of Bhutan, which fills your heart with peace and serenity but in a Muslim vein.
Because of it's location straddling the Equator, the humidity of Borneo made me shed a few pounds in water loss but it didn't stop me from truly encapsulating this remarkable land. Apart from the city itself, which is so clean and well kept, the people I met were wonderful and spoke English quite well paving the way to greater insight about their place of domicile. I was really impressed with the Sultan Omar Ali Saifuddin Mosque and it's trademark stone boat and lagoon, which truly lent itself to photography at any time of day.
As oil exports constitute the lifeblood of Brunei, tourism really takes a back seat. Which isn't to say it's lacking in any regard, it's merely inconsequential to the economy. That's probably why all the museums in Bandar are free to enter. The only caveat is that you must remove your footwear before entering. I was OK with that as I felt I was promenading the inner sanctum of a palace rather than a museum.
Speaking of the tourism department, when I first walked out of Bandar's airport, I asked a stranger if there was a tourist information booth. He said "yes, it's closed right now but I am the director so can I help you". I say "great where do I catch a bus into town?" He simply asked, "where are you going specifically?" I told him the name of the hotel and he seemed to know it well and offered to drive me there. When I asked him the cost he just smiled and said no problem. Next thing I know I'm being given a free ride in his Mercedes right to the front door of my hotel. Talk about a tourist office going the extra mile. I had several experiences just as nice during my visit here as I hitched in and around town.
I got to explore the surrounding stilt villages that surround Bandar. Mere steps from the CBD, I found myself in pure untamed rainforest complete with it's colourful flora and fauna including the exotic indigenous Promiscus Monkey with their characteristic long noses, a myriad of birds and a strange kind of marine iguana which I previously had thought to exist only in the Galapagos. Interspersed among the trees and stilt villages, boats raced along all the waterways adding to the exotic atmosphere of this remarkable place.
After an exhaustive day photographing so much it was very relaxing to sit by the city canal and enjoy some delicious satay beef in peanut sauce and look at the fisherman cast their nets from the shore while storms raged out over the ocean with a spectacular light show and distant rumbling. I actually got caught in one such storm and just managed to make the sanctuary of a covered jetty before "Ark-inspiring" rain hammered Bandar.
Eventually I had to bid Brunei adieu for my final return to Thailand. With 2 weeks left in my gallivant, I decided to head south to the islands boarding a night bus to Koh Phuket. Initially I based myself in Patong wanting to look that hedonistic dragon right in the eyes. Patong can be best described as a Fort Lauderdale on permanent Spring Break. The hedonistic dragon had the power to heat the blood and any desire, setting all senses aglow, but if you're not careful it was quite capable of burning you alive. This was Pat-pong to the power of ten. I became spellbound.
Treading carefully through the carnival and all it's barkers proffering any fancy from drugs to prostitutes to restaurant menus, I managed to find a dive shop and secured a few dives for the following day. I couldn't relax too much on the beach cause it was saturated with umbrellas, beer bellies, fleets of beached jet skis and pods of beached sun-burned whales, and of-course a steady parade of barkers selling any beach whim that might catch your fancy.
The diving south of Phuket near Raj Cha Island was not great in and of itself, with more than 37 divers on the boat but it was my first experience bringing a digital camera with me down to a depth of 30 m so even small fish were something to behold, photograph and videotape.
My underwater housing unit that fitted over my Canon Digital Elph worked flawlessly, thanks to an angel named (and I'm not kidding) Mermaid Song who hails from Hong Kong and has her own dive shop. I asked her to give my camera a once over and she took it upon herself to properly clean my O-ring and educate me in the proper maintenance of my new gear.
As a result I captured images of lionfish and rays and truly enjoyed the dives because having a camera added a whole new element to the experience. Between dives we were treated to a seafood buffet, which was the proverbial icing on the cake. Sun, Diving, Angels and Seafood. I felt euphoria!
I partied a little excessively that night but still managed to skip the hangover the next day, despite the Evil Knievel ricochet I had to endure after a transport company forgot to pick me for the shuttle bus to the pier in Phuket Village. My travel agent became my chauffeur/stunt driver breaking about every traffic law in Thailand to get me to my boat. With 2 minutes to spare I clamored aboard the vessel for the 2-hour steam to Koh Phi Phi
This island was paradise for me. It hits you as you sail into the harbour, which forms one side of a beach-laden promontory connecting two giant hills on either side. I was thrilled to find a similar hut like I had previously enjoyed in Puerto Gallera in the Philippines. Spartan as it may have been, I couldn't care less as it was right on the beach with a hammock on the porch.
The diving here on Phi Phi was world-class. Just off the place where they filmed the movie The Beach I captured video and stills of leopard sharks, eels, a school of barracuda among the other exotic aquatic subjects. Even while snorkeling off the beach I had a close encounter with a very poisonous sea snake 7 feet long.
On land I scaled a hill capturing hundreds of butterflies alighting on and off trees en route to the top. From the top I was rewarded a spectacular view of Phi Phi's isthmus and the satellite islands. The nightlife on the island was a lot tamer than Phuket but I did hit a reggae bar for some hilarious female kickboxing, which had all the male patrons rolling in their chairs, including this one.
I liked Phi Phi so much I spent an extra two days here before sailing to the mellow town of Krabi on the opposite shore of the bay from Phuket. Krabi Province gets my vote as the nicest part of Thailand.
Cheese or no cheese, being an avid fan of the James Bond franchise, I simply had to take the day tour to James Bond Island or Koh Tapu in the heart of the Province's Phang Nga Bay. We got there by long tail boat traversing the beautiful islands within the Ao Phang Nga National Park. It was hilarious to re-shoot various scenes from the film Man With The Golden Gun as a retrospective, especially the entrance to Skaramanga's Hidden Lair, which has since become a woman's toilet. I think Skaramanga would use his Golden Gun to take somebody out for that one lol
The rest of the tour was just gravy for me but it was just as interesting. We had lunch at nearby Koh Panyee and its Muslim village before trying some spelunking in the cave Temple, called Wat Suwankhuha complete with a host of monkeys and monks.
Our last stop took us up a series of forest-shrouded waterfalls in Khao Nor Chu Chi National Park. At times I felt like I was back in the Taman Negara in Malaysia. Traversing the stone carved steps of the steeper sections was an instant throwback to El Ciudad Perdida in Colombia. But swimming in one of the refreshing pools formed by the forest stream; well that was all Thailand. It was a nice way to reflect all the wonderful memories I had accumulated on the trip.
It was another night bus back to Bangkok (which proved to be a really great place to wrap up my Christmas shopping). I bid the land of Siam Kop Koon Kap flying to Tokyo in Japan before the somewhat more civilized 12 hours back to Toronto in time for the holidays.
It's now Christmas day here in the Great White North and I'm writing this in the spirit of giving. Yes I hope you enjoyed my tale in the same spirit in which it was told. As an educator, which I like to consider myself, I, in turn, thank you for listening and helping to justify part of the point of what I do and why I do it.
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