Malaysia

Loved Bangkok, but time to get out - 6 days is more than enough. After an 11 hour journey involving taxi, bus, plane, taxi, taxi, ferry, taxi, we arrived in Langkawi, Malaysia. The flight covered the 1,000km or so between Bangkok and HatYai - a journey which would have been 12 hours by bus alone. Instead it took only 1 hour and 10 minutes and cost 20 quid each. Additionally though, it involved a sleepless night for Andy followed by several hours of sweaty palms. It would seem he wasn't too sure about AirAsia's safety procedures.

We entered via Padang Besar, crossing the border on foot. Nobody else was following suit in the midday heat, and we received some funny looks. After a taxi ride to Kuala Perlis, we boarded the ferry which was to take us to our destination - Langkawi. Perlis is a town where polygamy is condoned. Apparently, this is to stop men having affairs. I wonder who thought of that one. So we are now in Langkawi, a luxury holiday destination by all accounts. We're not on this map, but are situated to the West of Perlis which is on Peninsualar Malaysia (see left hand map). Island Malaysia is the right hand side.

Immediately, Malaysia had a different vibe to the rest of SEA. Predominantly a Muslim country, all the women are dressed in head scarves and long dresses. They even go in the sea like this - what a nightmare! As we sat at the ferry terminal, I became aware I'd attracted a couple of male observers. I didn't really mind (it's been a while) but they weren't beauties. Even though I was wearing trousers, I felt that the vest top was the item of interest, so I took the opportunity to wrap my scarf around my shoulders and tuck it down my
cleavage. The rapidity at which both men lost interest and vacated their seats was comical. I felt like Rose West at a speed-dating event. They could at least have been subtle about it.

Other than that, everyone has been very polite and kind. I get the feeling we're not going to be ripped off left right and centre here. That said, things are more expensive than we're used to. And what's worse is that beer comes in small cans. That's if it comes at all. Some restaurants and hotels are tee-total (like ours). As we're now accumstomed to massive bottles of 6.4% beer, it will probably do us good.

We're staying in a lovely place called Tropical Resort. It really is - especially after the first place we checked into. We were both knackered after the journey, so only Andy went to view the room. The woman had us pay upfront for a 2 nights stay - always a dodgy ploy. The room, it turns out, was a total hole. As was the toilet (literally). No way - I just couldn't stay in that place of depression and grime. So we had a quick scout about for somewhere decent, depressing ourselves at all the lovley places we couldn't afford. Then we happened upon TR, owned by a lovely German woman called Lila. After some grovelling to the first place ("Charlie's Motel" by the way - quoted in The Book as the best option on the beach - when? 25years ago?), we managed to get a refund (minus a few quid for 'housekeeping') - whatever - I'd pay three times that to not stay there. What was more, I knew Em & Andrew would have been horrified with the place.

So, we've slept 11-12 hour sleeps the past three nights (recovery after Bangkok) and are now waiting for Em & Andrew to land. They should be with us in less than 5 hours and we can't wait. Friends from home!! Our best mates! What's more, they're bringing a bottle of Bombay Saphire and a supply of Green & Black's. Kicking myself that I forgot to request the latest copy of O.K! magazine though. I mean, I only want to know if Angelina's had the baby and what kind of a state Brittney's in these days. And if she has had the baby, how's Jen taking it? The ONLY good thing about returning to work in 8 months' time will be catching up on 12 issues worth of celebrity gossip...better request some extra management days to cope with the increased workload...

Patpong and Pingpong

The only way to calm down after the excitement of the ladyboys was to visit the Forensic museum at the local hospital. A short journey across the river later we were looking at bits of the human body in jars, mmmmm. The question is, why go to a forensic museum? Obviously we're nurses with an interest in anatomy, but more than that, we've got an unhealthy interest in the macabre! The museum is split into several parts, one part being normal anatomy, another being about parasites and the third section being devoted to forensic medicine, which in this case, meant the mummified corpses of various serial killers. The parasitic section was particularly gross, featuring lots of worm type things that can end up inside unfortunate parts of your body, which always happens to be the genital area doesn't it. They had on display the biggest scrotum in the world (well it must be musn't it?) and I managed to get a sneaky photo, unfortunately there were to many people around to take pics of dead serial killers (sorry Flan).
Due to the Thai language on most of the displays I'm unable to give you a full report on the serial killing antics of See Uey, sufficed to say that he's definitely dead, you can actually see the bullet holes from where he was executed.
Feeling ever so slightly sick we decided the best cure would be the zoo. Now we've heard Asian zoo's are pretty grim and having seen first hand their pig killing methods, we were pleasantly surprised to find a well kept zoo in Bangkok, full of some very healthy looking animals. The whole range was there, the big cats, elephants (you can't move for them over here), hippos, birds (boring, Sorry Christina), monkeys and the always enjoyable reptile house. We sauntered round practicing our wildlife (and not so wild) photography and then came across an Orangutan which took up the rest of our memory cards it was so cute.
On the Wednesday after phoning Rachel and wishing her a Happy Birthday, we took a taxi to Lumpini park. We've been taking taxis everywhere in Bangkok, cause the Tuk-Tuk's are such a rip off and half of them are psychos, how I hate tuk-tuk drivers! They all try to over charge you and it gets very tedious bargaining with them and you save yourselves hastle and money by getting an air-conditioned metered (no bargaining) taxi which will take you across half the city for only a pound. Lumpini park sits smack in the middle of Bangkok and is a tranquil oasis away from the hecticness of the rest of the city. Its pretty much like any other park in any other town or city, except for one minor detail.....giant lizards! Theres no mention of these beasts in the LP, so we were mildly surprised to see them hauling themselves out of the lake and strolling about the grass. They look a tad scary, but if you got to close to them that would just get back in the lake and swim off. Very cool creatures indeed. After wasting a lot more memory card space on wildlife (this time really wild) we walked through the rest of the park, through the masses of Thai's doing aerobics, jogging and weight lifting and made our way to Patpong. At one point during our walk, I stopped to fiddle with my camera and then became aware of music playing, I looked up and every single person in the park was standing still, even Sam. It must have been the national anthem, I forgot to mention that went we went to the cinema, immediately before the film they play the national anthem and the whole cinema has to stand up. Luckily we didn't get the giggles and their anthem is miles nicer than ours, quite uplifting stuff! After the park I wanted to go to the night market (true this time) and Sam wanted to see the red light district. The market was extortionate in Thai terms, they were trying to charge me 4 times the going rate I'd previously paid for a t-shirt and their was a severe lack of redlights as well. On the other hand we did notice a lot of girls dancing around poles scantily clad (it was a hot night) and i was consistently asked if I wanted to see 'pingpong'. Now Bison will testify that I'm quite partial to a game of table tennis from our days working at the Pysch unit together, but these girls looked like they'd been practicing and I didn't want Sam to see me beaten by a girl! To shouts of 'pingpong' we left Patpong and that was out time up in Bangkok!

Now we are on the island of Langkawi in Malaysia and are meeting Andy and Emma tonight! Hooray! Malaysia blog to follow soon.

Con Artists & Ladyboys abound.

Bangkok - what a place. So much to do and only 6 days to do it in!!! Good job we have a comprehensive timetable drawn up which can't be deviated from for any reason. Day 3 in the City of Angels was, well, a bit weird. Nothing like being scammed good and proper to get the day off to a happy start. There we were, making our way to Ko Ratanakosin - the ancient royal district where all the most famous sights are located. On the way there however, we met a friendly chap who stopped us for and started chatting away. He talked to us for a while about England and what a great country it was. Predictably this led to a discussion about football and he reeled off a few names...blah, blah, blah.

Then he asked us where we were going. "Oh, the palace is closed until 2 o'clock!" At this point, he started marking on our map all the other temples and places we could visit in the meantime. Apparently there was a special 3 day weaving fair in town, which we really shouldn't miss as all the Thais (and Stephen Hendry) went there. He then told us not be be ripped off by tuc tuc drivers "Only go with the ones with white number plates - yellow is bad - they charge too much." As he was pointing to a good mumber plate, a tuc tuc pulled up alongside us (much like the shopkeeper from Mr. Benn) and started bowing. We waved them off politely and went on our way. We knew not to trust people who declared that something was closed and besides, we had our schedule to stick to! We continued to see for ourselves, after all, we knew all the tricks now...

Walking a little further, we weren't far from the palace grounds. Then we were stopped once more by another well-dressed chap who was just SO nice. A law lecturer at the University we were standing beside, he told us he was very pleased to meet us, he loved English people and sure enough, before long the conversation turned to...Rooney this, Beckham that and general World Cup b******* ! It had happened agin - the boys were communicating through the international language of football. I zoned out a bit here as it was getting rather hot and humid and I became fascinated by the fact this man had two coins lodged in his ear. I just had to ask him why and it seems it was just for easy access. He demonstrated further by shoving a massive 10 Baht coin into his ear along with the other two. Obvious really.

Anyway, it seemed the last feller was right - he confirmed that the palace was indeed closed, but if we had a map, he could show us where we could visit instead. After scrawling over our lovely new map, he mentioned the same weaving place and some lesser-known wats in the area nearby. Mind you, we were to ensure we caught the right tuc-tuc and even took us to the edge of the road to demonstrate. As if by magic, a feller appeared and before we knew what had happened, our man had negotiated a fair price with the driver (40 Baht) and we were zooming round the streets of the city.

"Well Andy, you know some things you can't always control, you just have to go with it. Things like this happen for a reason."

We berrated The Book for all it's warnings of not trusting anyone who stops to chat to you in the streets of Bangkok. You have to trust some people right? WRONG! The mysterious weaving place turned out to be a tailor's shop. We literally walked in and walked back out again. Our very polite tuc tuc driver suddenly turned a bit nasty when we turned down his offer of taking us to a jewellery shop. He said he got free petrol if he took us there to "just look." I put up a very good argument and said it wasn't fair to use travellers in this way and he had made us into fools (though obviously we'd done that all on our own).

It became clear he wsn't going to back down and so I thought it best to just go with it as he'd developed a bit of a mental look in his eyes. As we pulled up outside the jewellery shop, there were several other tuc tucs parked outside. Their victims were all inside - we'd all been had. Actually opposite the shop was a woman sat at a small table. She was stamping petrol coupons for the drivers once they had brought in their prey! Unbelievable. The jewellery shop was full of huge diamonds (at least they looked like diamonds, who knows?) - with pricetags way above what normal people can afford. The staff all resembled huge mencing transvestites and we were out of there in a flash. The tuc tuc man drove like a maniac to get us back to the Khao San road.

Now, the question was - was this a rogue tuc tuc driver or had we become embroiled in a very intricate multi-fascited scam which started with the well-eduacted, smartly-dressed man outside the palace? It suddenly all made perfect sense, but maybe I was being paranoid. We checked at the hotel - the palace is open all day every day. As we returned to the palace grounds, I wondered if we might see the same blokes again. If we did, it would confirm our suspicions. We couldn't quite believe our eyes when we saw the first bloke collaring some poor unsuspecting Canadian girl. I steered her from his ploy and told her not to listen to him but to come with us - the palace wasn't closed and it certainly wasn't in the direction to which he was pointing.

The plot thickened as we spotted the second bloke - hiding from us in the park. We asked the "law lecturer" if he didn't have a class he should be teaching. He didn't quite know what to say or do, but was clearly very shocked to see us again. I considered contacting the tourist police, but felt that they probably wouldn't be interested...I mean, how many con artists must be operating in Bangkok? Although we hadn't lost any money, we were upset for three main reasons:

1. We'd been had!! Again! (You must agree - it was a very clever ploy - even Stephen Hendry
was fooled.)
2. Our faith in humanity had just been diminished another notch.
3. The schedule had been interrupted. We now only had an hour to see the whole of Ko
Ratanakosin!!

Still, onwards and upwards - the Grand Palace! It was glitteringly beautiful and grand. We had come prepared and brought long-sleeved tops and trousers with us (unfortunately, no more fishing trouser pics of Andy). The former monarch used to live in the Palace and its adjoining temple complex houses the famous Emerald Buddha. The 94.5 hectare grounds encompass more than 100 buildings. So in the afternoon heat, we pegged it around about 99 of the buildings and then forked out 240 Baht for a Haagan Daz (3 quid?! - that's more than I'm paying for accommodation!)

Close to the Palace is the wonderous Wat Pho. This provides shelter to the largest reclining Buddha in Thailand. The Buddha is 200 years old and represents the passing of Buddha into nirvana (also the death of Buddha). Wat Pho is also the national headquarters for teaching traditional Thai medicine and massage.

After our stressful day, I decided the best way to cheer us up was to go and see the Ladyboy Cabaret! Andy was somewhat nervous about the whole thing, but to make him less anxious, I picked the most expensive show - the Calypso Cabaret at the Asia hotel. Very posh and tickets cost 1,000 Baht (14 quid). We were in for a treat, I knew it. What I didn't anticipate, was the amount which my boyfriend enjoyed himself. I believe the last time he let his hair down in this manner was Karaoke night, Hiroshima circa Jan 2006.

I reckon you could make a decent trannie out of most men in this country. Oriental people are at least blessed with fine features and delicate frames - something I'm sure most of the Bounty Kitchen Roll Advert men in dresses around Brighton would die for. I'd heard that the ladyboys (or kathoey) were all pretty convincing - what I wasn't ready for however - was just how stunning they would be! I wouldn't have thought it possible to leave a trannie show feeling unglamourous and unfeminine, but I did! There are around 1,000 kathoey in Bangkok and comprise both transvestites and transgenders. Even on a CCU night out, I've never seen such fantastic legs or boobs...

Anyway, on with the show. The girls did a number of different acts - ranging from Broadway to Tina Turner. With the exception of one who looked a bit like the baddie on the tricyle from SAW, most were truly gorgeous AND sexy! There was one who looked just like Kylie and the dance routines, miming and costumes were a visual delight. We had pretty good seats, but thankfully we weren't sat right at the front as one bloke in the audience had a right night of it. There was a Barry Humphries type who kept giving him the eye and getting him up on stage - brilliantly entertaining.

I was wondering how I would get another classic Andy photo onto this blog. But I knew I had to manage it for you, the viewers. You don't understand the lengths I have to go to sometimes, but this time it was simple. He was right there at the end, "Quick Sam! Get a picture of me with these two...oh, but I like that one as well!" So here they are - the two best blog photos you'll ever see. Enjoy them and never let him forget...

Ladyboy Action

Bangkok - City of Angels

Krung Thep Manakhon Bovorn Ratanskosin Magintharayutthaya Mahadilokpop Noparatratchathani Burirom Udomratchanivet
mahasathan Avatartsathit Sakkathattiya Visnukarmrasit,

Translation:

City of Angels, greatest of all cities,home of the emerald Buddha, immortal, precious jewel, invincable stronghold, ancient and honourable, crownded with nine jewels, heavenly city, founded by Indra and rebuilt by Vishnu.....

thankfully for us, this mouthful boils down to the single name, Bangkok (map). We arrived on Saturday lunchtime having escaped the packs of wild dogs that roamed the dump called 'Ayuthaya' and headed over to Banglampu, the district of Bangkok where most tourists stay. This includes the Khoa San (movie) road, which is a real backpacker dive, full of a lot of smelly, dread wearing types, yanks and drunk 18 year old westerners. We decided not to stay there and ran around the corner to a much quieter street called Soi Rambuttri where our pretty good hotel, the Four Sons Village is. Its got a/c, tv (Unique Remote control!) and hot water for 500 baat a night (7 quid), which is a little bit more than we've been paying for a room, but it is Bangkok and also we didn't want a scummy room for not much less.
After settling in and having a wonder round our local area we headed over to Chinatown for the evening. It's a mad rush of traffic, smells (not all food), neon, people and ?meat on sticks. Our mouths were soon salivating so we dived into the nearest restaurant and gorged ourselves on roast duck and dim sum.
The next day, being Sunday, we took ourselves over to Chatuchak weekend market. Its gigantic! Literally thousands of stalls and shops filled to the brim with almost anything you want to buy. Food, clothes, actually tons and tons of cloths, fish (alive or dead), puppy's, toys, lamp shades, sofas, you get the picture. Absolutely mind-boggling! We spent several hours gawping at it all, you can buy live fish in bags, not so strange if its a goldfish, but you can buy 200 quid coy carp in a bag! We even saw some small sharks, though not in a bag.

You don't expect Bangkok to look anything like Tokyo, but catching the skytrain to their brand new shopping centre, the Siam Paragon, transported us back there. Its 7 floors of air-conditioned first-class shopping, an aquarium, gourmet food, imax and digital cinemas. Absolutely superb! So good in fact we spent the rest of the day there. We went to the Imax cinema, which for those of you who don't know is 3D cinema and it's really impressive stuff, you feel like you can just reach out and touch the objects in front of your face, in our case sharks. They make you wear these daft glasses, like Timmy Mallet, but for 2 quid Imax who cares. After some gorgeous Japanese food just to really feel like we were back in Tokyo, but with Thai prices, we went for our second trip to the cinema, again for only 2 pound (8 pounds in Japan), to see the remake of the Poseidon Adventure. I normally hate remakes, but with only vague memories of the original, this one was a corker. Now they'll be those of you out there that might see this film and hate it, but we loved every minute of it. Non-stop action, a healthy cheese filling and some quality special effects. If you have any degree of claustrophobia, then you MUST see this film for one particular scene, which practically had been vomiting it was so disgustingly claustrophobic, brilliant stuff!

Bangkok is a big bundle of horribly polluted roads, seedy back streets, neon skyscrapers, scammsters, monks, farang, chilled out parks, huge lizards, amazing street food and we LOVE this city! Its well up there with Tokyo, a complete assault on the senses and I've not even told you about the ladyboys yet, still next blog........

Sukhothai, Ayuthaya & Cujo

Sukhothai was Thailand's first capital. It means Rising of Happiness. This is not something we felt as the bus pulled into the station. Summoning optimism, we concentrated on organising our trip to the ancient kingdom, which flourished from the 13 th to the 14th century - its architecture and religious art being considered the most classic of Thai styles. To celebrate this, we've checked into a hotel, opposed to a guest house. Andy was desperate to find a T.V. (...I don't think he meant a Lady Boy...) so he could wake me up at 2am to watch some obscure football match. There is A/C and a fridge too which is unfortunate as it's been cold from the past 4 days (I'm actually wearing my fleece, rather than carrying it around with me). This is no good - our bronze tones are fading.

A World Heritage site (not another one?!), Sukhothai Historical Park includes remains from 91 sites within a 5km radius. A load of very old Wats stuck together, basically. Pity it was raining - again! The light is very bad in the following photos, so you'll just have to use your imagination. Wat Si Chum contains a famously photographed 15m seated Buddha, which was rather impressive. Other than that, the various other wat remains showed various other Buddha images...a bit difficult to be enthusiastic, as we were soaking wet and a bit chilly (a bit like you lot at home have been for the past 4 months). The only splash of colour was this beautiful waterlilly pond. Focus on the pink there...

Anyway, did I mention that Sukhothai has no soul? The Book seemed to suggest there were days worth of activity to be had. There isn't and the weather's still terrible. And there is nobody here. Tomorrow morning we are heading on down to Ayuthaya. It sounds sort of similar from what I can tell, but maybe it will be a bit warmer? It sits 86km North of The City of Angels...a.k.a. Bangkok! How exciting. Will we feel just like Leonardo Di Caprio in the opening scenes of The Beach? Apparently though, that's not the real Khao San Road...they actually filmed it in Manilla?!

The bus to Ayuthaya was a bit of a nightmare as half an hour into the journey, the air con packed up. It didn't help that the technical problems faced by a long-haul bus (supplying food, drink, sorting out luggage, tickets etc.) was faced by two ladies of limited intelligence. My first clue to the limitations of Woman 1. was realised straight away. As we learn in Phnom Penh, it's always best to check three times that you're on the right bus (and so are your bags).

"Ayuthaya?" I asked, as simply as I could on approach.
Blank look into the distance.
"Ayuthaya??!" I persevered, determined to catch her empy gaze.
"AY-U-THA-YA??!" wondering if she might be a little hard of hearing.
Eventually she met my stare and said,
"THAI-LAND!!!!"
Good, I'm glad we got that one cleared up.

Then we had the business of getting the backpacks on board. We weren't allowed to put them in the luggage spot, Woman 1. would much rather we tried to enter the Hobbit-sized hole side door, wearing our packpacks. It soon became apparent that perhaps our Western-sized asses AND our packs weren't designed to squeeze into the space afforded by the Hobbiton doorway. Woman 1. thought it would be helpful to push us through the door, i.e. force our shins into the steps). She was stronger than she looked and she held me fast for a while, until I made my discontent known.

It looked O.K though - the bus was almost empty! I spied two seats with loads of legroom and attempted to make for them. Except Woman 1. was stood in my way. She was also stood in Andy's way - a difficult feat for a 4'11'' 7 stone native woman of 60. She stood there for so long, it became clear she has already decided which seats she wanted us to have...except she stood so close to us that we couldn't actually manouevre to get our packs off. She was desperate for The Tickets. Almost as if there was some vague chance they might enable her to spend the day at a chocolate factory. Judging by Woman 2. I can only say I'm glad she wasn't collecting the tickets. Considerably larger than most Thai ladies, this one for sure would have killed to spend the day at a chocolate factory.

So we settled into the journey which was due to take us "about 5 hours." There have been few exceptions to the equation :

Stated journey length + 2 hours = actual journey time.

Except on those journeys where it takes three hours more than anticipated. We had already established a Lumines tournament (which was to last the 7 1/2 hours) when the A/C packed in. At this point there were various attempts to explain why, the most popular involving Woman 1. holding up an ice-cube for me. The following 7 hours involved a Benny-Hill style montage of both women opening the two small air vents in the roof the bus. This was closely followed by longer periods of closing the air vents (presumably to see if A/C had righted itself?) and Andy sneakily prising them open once more.

Upon approaching a bus station, I felt a toileting urge come upon me. At this point, it was stiflingly hot on the bus and as I tried to squeeze my way past Woman 2. she asked me where I was going. I would have thought that a Farang clutching a toilet roll with an air of desperation and a slight sheen to the skin would have been enough of a clue. She then pointed at a box situated at the bottom of Frodo's house and said I had to go in there. I said that I was too hot and I couldn't possibly go in there. I only managed to go a few steps before I was stopped by a man asking me where I was off to. I patiently relayed my response at which point he pointed back at the Hell Bus. "No, I'm not going in there." At this point him and Woman 2. entered a great debate. There was lots of eye-rolling and lots of dialogue involving "Farang." I don't even think the man was anything to do with the bus. I left them to it and snook off in search of a Death Loo. I knew that my 3 Baht would not ensure a beautiful, clean convenience, but at least I wouldn't pass out in an unspeakable manner on board bealzibub's version of the National Express. (Enter the classic Divine Comedy tune "...when your arse is as wide as a small country."

Back on the bus, we were then omitted from the complimentary iced-drink round. Woman 2. gleefully handed out shimmering cups of Pepsi to every other passenger with a smile. I couldn't help but smile when we reached our second stop of the day and she reached for the bus loo roll and made a run for it. More fun was in store when we reached our stop. Without any warning we were approaching Ayuthaya, Woman 1. started attempting to lug our rucksacks from the back seat. We were far too busy packing up PlayStation/ travel pillow (absolutely invaluable, thanks a million Paula!!) / snacks / drinks ("Am I bovvered, I've got my own!") /books and squeezing my oedematous Cornish pasties into my all-of-a-sudden-too-small boots. This activity caused much further consternation in the eyes of our fellow travellers and once more we heard mutterings of "Farang, blah blah blah."

But all this didn't matter! We were now in Ayuthaya! An amazing city, apparently, "not to be missed!" said The Book. A place which represents "the kingdom's true historical apex," would surely bestow us with the magic of a bygone age. Turned out to be dog-infested hole of a city. As I laid in our (quite decent) guesthouse room, I glanced through The Book whilst I waited for my pasties to diminish. There in black-and-white was, under the "Dangers and Annoyances" section the following statement:

"be wary of the local dog packs. They won't take any notice of you unless you cross into their territory which will trigger a shrill chorus of barking, exposed fangs and even biting."

Lonely Planet : Thailand (11th Ed) 2005, p195.

As a caninophobe in recovery (I really have made much progress since entering SEA three months ago), this did not make happy reading. What had we done? Andy reassurred me that The Book was often a bit over the top in its scaremongering tactics (it can be a bit like a parent in literary form). However, when we exitied the guesthouse for our evening of fun, there was a notice on the door saying "Beware of the local dogs. They often bite people." Oh my God, this was really happening.

Feeling quite sure we had to spend no longer than one night in this trecherous place, we swiftly made plans to see the sights in a couple of hours that evening.

We crammed ourselves into the smallest tuc tuc ever made along with a couple of Swiss people and a Spanish chap (humour abound). I was in no mood for small talk and must have looked really ignorant - it really is difficult to not speak to someone when is such close proximity with them. We were dropped off by some temple ruins, which was truly terrifying as it was pitch dark. The ruins themselves were lit up, but we were blind to the surrounding ground. There were indeed about a million dogs surrounding the temple. How do you know when you're in their territory anyway? Well, I took a couple of tentative (and rubbish) photos and looked for the sanctury of the tuc tuc. Anyway, I only went and walked straight into a ferral dog! I closed my eyes and awaited my fate as I carefully stepped off his paw. I could feel its fetid breath on my leg, its mangy fur bristling with menace. (It would be O.K. I reasoned. It had my 3 rabies injections - a quick journey to Bangkok and I'd be in possession of that final life-saving booster jab). Then it happened...the dog just turned and walked away - not even a yelp, a bark or a growl. Quivering somewhat, I returned to the tuc tuc and relayed my tale to the rest of our group. Nobody said a word. Even when I reasurred them all I was in fact O.K. and they needn't worry - still silence. Fearless weirdos.

You only have to look at this picture to see what I'm on about. We soon determined what they class as their territory when I made Andy go and take a closer picture. I've never been so glad to get back to our guesthouse and it's definitely back to the drawing board with the old 12-step recovery programme. Now these beasts obviously don't just go for us farang - they attack locals too. The reason they're such a problem is the age-old Buddhist philosphy of not killing anything. Sounds O.K. in theory, but from what I can tell, they don't seem to mind keeping animals (and humans for that matter - has anybody read any Thai prison stories?) in inhumane and degrading conditions. A good example of this is the selling of tiny birds in tiny cages in the grounds of temples. You can 'buy' a bird and then set it free - to bring you good luck. We actually saw an advert at the cinema which shows Richard Gere at temple and he uses his Mastercard to buy about a hundred birds for this little girl whose brother needed good luck. Well I say shame on you Richard, for promoting this practice. At least they didn't get the hamster experience, I suppose.

You're gonna get your ....... head kicked in!

What a chant! Anyway the reason for such tuneful musings is that Samantha and I attended a Thai kick boxing extravaganza! We were keen to see what Muay Thai was all about and so paid our 400 baat each (5 1/2 pounds) and in we went. The place was obviously a training centre in the day, but there were a couple of bars in the building as well and tables and chairs laid out around two sides of the ring. We were positioned one row back from the ring, but as I discovered later on, no-one cared if you went right up to the ring and stood there taking photos. There were lots of tourists in the seated areas and lots of Thai's leaning against the ring on the other two sides, shouting madly as every punch and kick landed. Having never been to a fight and always disliked English boxing I wasn't sure how I'd react, but having always loved martial arts I was fairly sure I'd enjoy it, even more surprising was how much Sam loved it, but I wonder if it was really the oiled up, incredibly fit young Thai lads on view!

There were 8 fights in total, with fighting weights ranging from 30kg-65kg (I know!), the first fight being between a couple of kiddies who must have been about 10. The good thing was they weren't allowed to punch and could only kick, thus saving their tender young brains. Each fight is preceeded by a ram muay or "boxing dance." This ceremony lasts for about five minutes or so and expresses obeisance to the guardian spirit of Thai boxing and also to the fighter's guru or khruu. This series of manoevres is performed to music from a Thai oboe. All fighters wear sacred headbands and sometimes armbands for divine protection and good luck. The headband is removed after the ram muay, but the armband, which contains a Buddha image, remains.

The remaining fights were adult affairs and they were really exciting. Some amazing moves, really high kicks, round-house kicks, the lot. The ref's were all good and stopped the fight at the first sign of a fighter looking dazed. There was no kicking, punching or kneeing to the balls allowed, but accidents happen and a couple of the fighters looked like they might have had a tear in their eyes, I certainly did! There were also a couple of fights between a westerner and a Thai. One fight was between a Canadian and a Thai, the Canadian fella looked amazingly hard with a massive tatoo on his back and actually beat the Thai bloke within 2 rounds. The other fight was between an Englishman and a Thai and on this occasion, the Thai chap won, fairly convincingly, in fact, he seemed to be showboating towards the end of the fight, pulling out some spectacular kicks. It was a great night, except for the English boxer and we'd certainly go again, given the oppurtunity. As a special treat for you movie lovers out there I've uploaded two mini fights for you :)


Fight 1
Fight 2

Karen and the Mongs.

It's so strange being somewhere this Westernised after our latest exploits. Thailand has big roads with lines painted down the middle, cars and a Starbucks! It looks very futuristic and a bit weird, but as cities go, Chiang Mai is a nice, chilled out place. There is plenty of rural life in the surrounding area, it's just a case of getting out of the city a bit. So we did our new favourite thing and went trekking (I can't bring myself to use the treeking word any more). After travelling for about 45 minutes until we saw green, we walked up stupidly steep hills for a bit and ate some lychees growing wild. The reason? To go see some Mongs.

The Mong tribe originate from China and are Thailand's second largest hill-tribe group. They are also present in Laos and Vietnam (as we saw in Sapa) and their economy is centred around rice, corn and opium. We have grown to hate these sort of "ethnic zoos" as it feels like such an intrusion on daily lives. This feeling is compounded by people taking photos of the locals without asking their permission first. Next port of call was the Karen tribe, the most well-known being the "Long Necks" who wear heavy gold necklaces added one by one, to elongate the neck. These must stay in place throughout life as removing them would cause the vertebrae to collapse.

That debacle over with, we went on the exciting part of the trip - the elephant ride! Thai elephants are allowed 5 years of childhood before they become workers. They then undergo a training for 5 years under the guidance of a mahout (an elephant caretaker) which involves carrying and stacking logs, bathing and walking in procession. Mahouts often work as father and son teams - allowing them to see the same elephant through its lifetime. Thai law stipulates that they are only allowed to work until they are 61, allowing most of them a retirement of 20 years, when they are released back into the wild.

I read a horrifying tale about owners keeping their elephants stoked up on amphetamines, to enable them to work day and night (and proabably put them off their bananas too). Since the logging industry became illegal in 1989, there is now less demand for elephant labour. This has driven some unemployed mahouts to take their elephants to cities like Bangkok, where they make money from selling bananas and sugarcane to feed the elephants. Obviously, elephants don't fare very well in cities, so you're not meant to support this move by buying them food. There are now less than 3,000 wild elephants and 2,300 domesticated elephants in thailand, which makes them an endangered species. Believe it or not, there is still a black-market trade in ivory.

Obviously used to hard work, I still felt sorry for our elephant as we'd had a massive lunch. We set off with our mahout into the forest. Except we hadn't brought any money to buy him any bananas and as a result, he was a bit wayward and his trunk kept snaking its way upto us, in search of a nibble. He also seemed to have a very itchy bottom and kept stopping to scratch it against tree stumps (something we could both empathise with). A very weird and worrying sensation when you're sat on top of him...especially when there was no safety bar to hold onto! When I pointed out this fact to the mahout, he just laughed and led the elephant down a very steep slope. It had been raining and so the ground was muddy and slippery. Hanging on for dear life, I'm not sure we enjoyed the experience (remember the elephant ride upto Jaipur fort, Em?), but it was still lovely to see my favourite animals. And our new elephant foot umbrella stand will look great in our new flat.

We then had to go and see some rubbish brown waterfall, which wouldn't have looked out of place in Willy Wonka's factory and then everyone else went down the river on bamboo rafts. ever the hard- man, Andy didn't want to because it was quite cool that day and he didn't want to get wet. The decision was finalised when there was only one lifejacket left between two of us, so we sat and had a beer and a few prawn crackers to wait for the rest of the group. Anyway, I almost choked on my Singha when I spotted this monster, just lying in wait for some unsuspecting victim (like the next elephant that came along). Incidently, I'm enjoying the 6% Singha (pronounced "Sing" beer), not to mention the cheeky 6.4% Chang beer which is even cheaper. Hope you enjoy this picture Mazza!

Fortunately, the following day was free of unpleasant surprises and we enrolled on one of the famous Chiang Mai cookery courses! There's about a million schools to choose from, but we went with the Organic Farm, as the setting sounded very tranquil. First stop was the local food market, to collect our ingredients. Our teacher, (her name was Nice) told us all about the different types of curry paste, and the vast array of herbs used in Thai cooking. One revelation was watching (and tasting ) freshly pressed coconut milk, which we'd be needing for our recipes.

Interestingly, we learnt that the strange brown/purple gelatinous lump we'd been eating in our noodle soup turns out to be chicken blood. Someone also bought some durian, the infamous fruit so revered in Thailand. It's supposed to be as stinky as stilton and will make your breath smell for hours after ingestion. Some hotels and modes of public transport have even banned people bringing it on board. I thought it was quite nice - a sort of pineapple-flavoured cottage cheese. Too weird a texture for a fruit though, for sure.

A drive out into the countryside brought us to the farm. We all had to wear aprons and a funny farming hat in case it rained (it's been doing a lot of that in Chiang Mai). The farm grows all its own herbs and vegetables, which we all had a go of and then we were set on our way. My biggest challenge of the day was trying the ignore this nightmare Irish girl who didn't stop talking. I wouldn't care, but it really was a load of old rubbish. A particular favourite line was, whilst in conversation with three Ozzies, she said (obviously being an expert in this field, as well as many others) "Oh yeah, Australian films are amazing, really good." She managed to quote one which was (I think) Muriel's wedding before stating, "Yeah, my favourite is one called "Maori"". It was a great moment. Unfortunately, the response from the Ozzies only kept her quiet for a nanosecond and then she was right back to it.

Of course, she was sure to secure a wok opposite mine, but I did my utmost to ignore her. This was a tactic I'd observed her boyfriend employing rather effectively. First on the menu was making Green Curry Paste. Contrary to what Jamie Oliver had led me to believe, this doesn't contain corriander, just green chilli (more about that on Return of the Monkey recipe website). You have to pound the ingredients together for 10 minutes before it's ready - what's wrong with a Moulinex, I ask you? Anyway after that we made a lovely Chicken Green Curry, followed by Chicken with Chilli and Holy Basil (amazing). Basically, Andy's motivation to do the course was to determine how to make sticky rice. He's become a little obsessed by it of late and it's all he talks about. We were shown how to make this and I could see his excitement building. You first roll it into balls and then eat with your hands. I was starving by this point and wondered when we were going to get chance to eat something as it was all getting cold.

It wasn't until we'd made some Shrimp Tom Yum soup that we were allowed to get stuck in. We had to add a few extra chillis here and there as it would seem that every other Westerner is dead soft and prefer their food not to taste of anything. The old, "But I like to taste the flavours, not burn my mouth," argument was bandied about, but it just doesn't wash with us. Basically, if you can't handle chilli, you're soft. These are the sort of farang who thrive on omlette and chips. It became ever more clear we had nothing in common with the rest of this group.

Once we'd tried our hardest to eat three lunches, we set to with the task of making pudding (something light perhaps, after all that?). Try Bananas in Coconut Milk! They were very tasty, but too rich for my liking. Not finished yet...we then made Spring Rolls. Groan... Very easy and as nobody could move by this point, we were given little banana leaf boats to take away. I was beginning to detest food and was surprised to find myself nibbling away on my spring rolls in bed that night. We'd had a great day - made even better by the fact that we didn't have to do any chopping of ingredients or any washing up!! Very Delia (Dad, you'd have loved it and don't fret, the kitchen was "absolutely spotless!")

See Return of the Monkey for upcoming recipes!

Tomorrow we're off to Sukhothai (I know). Although the Golden Triangle sounded exotic and enticing initially, we've decided to give it a miss due to time contraints and the possibility of Karen and Mong rebels (can you imagine?). The Golden Triangle comprises of Myanmar, Thailand and Laos borders, within which the opium trade is prevalent. Papaver somniferum (remember giving Papaveritum at work?) is an accepted passtime of the elderly Hill Tribe inhabitants. It is also legal for them. Check out those grinning grannies...

Thailand

Here we are in Siam, otherwise known as Thailand. We've been here a few days now, having crossed over the border from Laos and our present location is Chiang Mai in the north. Thailand is a very modern country, all the comforts of home really, but at a lot less cost. There're also more cars on the road which we haven't seen the like of since Japan...and they drive on the correct side of the road. Its a sizable country, being twice as big as the UK and has a population of about 64 million.
We're just here for a couple of weeks, before we jet off to meet Andy and Emma down in Malaysia, where we'll be for a couple of months before resuming our travels in the south of Thailand.
We arrived at a border town over the river from Laos called Chiang Khong where we spent a couple of days relaxing our nerves after the Gibbon experience. We stayed in a really nice little place called Bamboo Riverside guesthouse owned by Mr Miyagi (no he's not dead, just living in Thailand) where our first taste of proper Thai food was.....Mexican! Fantastic grub, just not what we were expecting. Living at the guesthouse was the worlds oldest living dog, probably, 18 years old!! It really looked 18 too, which in human years is 126 and was stumbling around looking very frail, but Mrs Miyagi couldn't bring herself to euthenase the poor thing as she'd looked after it all its life.....sweet :)
She spent her day trundling around after the thing, supporting its back legs with a towel. After much laundry washing (not by us), sleeping and blogging, we got the bus to Chiang Mai.

Chiang Mai is the second largest city in Thailand and is reguarded by most people as the cultural heartland of the country. We assumed it would be much like Luang Prabang in Laos, small, peaceful and quaint, but Chaing Mai is a proper big city, the likes of which we haven't seen since Phnom Penh. Six lane motorways, cars everywhere, lots of nice houses and high rises; all the things you'd associate with a big city. In the center though its a different story and its here that you find the peaceful streets, the many Wats and the large amount of restaurants and noodle bars. On our first day here we trooped around the center of town enjoying the splendour of the various Wats. There are some cracking ones here, one in particular grabbed our attention, mainly because of its name "Wat U Mong"! I'm not joking, I even checked it with a monk and he confirmed it, he wasn't a mong, there are mongs round these parts, but I'll leave that for the next blog :)
The other two Wats of interest we visited were Wat Phra Singh which had some amazingly lifelike models of former monks on display, can you believe how realistic this picture is? We also took a tuc tuc to the top of the nearest hill to see the palace and a temple called Wat Phra That Doi Suthep. We had been told that the palace grounds were very nice to walk around, unfortunately for me, we hadn't been told you had to wear trousers, so I had to hire some Thai fishing trousers, the worst kind of clothing that are only worn by gone native westerners, a particlarly loathsome type of tourist who pretend they're one of the locals, try and live off one dollar a day and spend their time whinging about how it used to be and calling themselves "Sitaram". You can imagine I wasn't best pleased and you can also imagine how funny Sam found the whole thing, Grrrrrrr :)
(Sam here - I absolutely wet myself... for much of the afternoon. I took many photos and look forward to showing them off - especially to Rach & Flan. Priceless, though he did loose his sense of humour about it towards the end of the day! Just look at his little face.)

After the palace of horrors, we moved on to the Wat which was absolutely stunning. Lots of gold sparkly things everywhere and some majestic views from the hill of Chiang Mai. It reminded us a bit of Miyajima in Japan, one of the nicest temples we saw there. We took lots of photos, so have a gander at the slideshow.

Our Gibbon Experience

We've been rather busy, these past few days. What I'm about to tell you all will take some time. So go and make a nice cuppa (or perhaps a G 'n' T?) and have a few Hob Nobs at the ready. I'm about to take you all on an adventure into the jungle. Sitting comfortably? Then I shall begin. We'd first heard about The Gibbon Experience (no comments please Jamie!) on the traveller's grapevine and were very excited about the prospect of doing something which isn't in the Lonely Planet. It's basically a conservation project, which involves falang (foreigners, like us) paying a wad of money which contributes towards the employment of forest guards, to protect the wildlife from the hands of the naughty poachers. In return, you are guaranteed the adventure of a lifetime in the jungle of Bokeo National Park.
Gibbons are hunted for a variety of reasons. Sometimes they are sold as pets, sometimes to zoos or circuses as performers. The Chinese are particularly fond of them for their delicious meat and also for use in Chinese medicine. Once their bones are boiled, they are said to be an effective treatment for rhematism. As a result, the black gibbons are now endangered. We met Samsi (a monkey, not a gibbon, by the way) on our trek into the jungle. My fear that all monkeys are rabid was soon abated when she adopted me straight away. She lives by one of the treehouses we were on our way to visit and was rescued after being abandoned by a family who had once owned her as a pet. She instantly climbed up my leg and laid across my shoulders. (As I look at the picture now, I've only just noticed what she was holding onto). I carried her for some time as she was apparently tired from trekking all morning with another group. It proved to be a symbiotic relationship - she got a free ride home, my motherly instincts were satisfied AND I got a free nit check at the same time. 2- for- 1 deal.

Also adopted by the project was the most adorable baby bear. It too had been sold as a pet when it was very small and currently, it is very tame. When the time is right, she will be placed back in the wild, but only time will tell whether this will prove a successful transition. So on with the exciting bit. Our payoff was to have the opportunity to live in a network of jungle treehouses, access to which is only possible via a series of zip lines. I thought it was a bit of a scary prospect, but it was only when signing the disclaimer form did we realise the height above which we would be dangling. "Up to 150metres" was mentioned as was the usual waiver, absolving responsibility should there be any serious injury or death. Not the best sedative prior to jumping off a platform with only a poncey wire as backup.

In keeping with Asian regard for safety, we were shown how to attach our harness to the zip wire - once. We were then led to the platform as if being led to the gallows. Basically all the equpment consists of is a carabina (lovely word that) attached to a roller which is encased on its upper aspect with a piece of rubber tyre. You can push down on top of the rubber in order to brake, but mostly this is not necessary. You are then attached via another carabina to the harness - basically a nappy type affair consisting of straps which are tightened around your waist and each leg. This creates an unflattering bunching up of the trousers around the bum for the ladies and an hilarious codpiece type effect for the boys. It didn't help my concentration when the guide demonstrating the sequence did it with his flies undone. I should mention that you are also attached via a safety wire, which you make sure is clipped on each time. After being observed ataching ourselves a couple of times, we were on our own.

The first time, I was terrified. I just closed my eyes and went for it. After a few seconds, I opened my eyes and looked down, to see the many jungle tiers beneath me. God it was high! Apparently I giggled a lot and then started screaming. I was caught at the other end (Treehouse 1) and showed how to disconnect my safety wire and then attach this to a place within the treehouse, before disconnecting the roller. Andy, of course seemed to glide across the wire as if he was used to living in the trees (I guess he's not called Monkey Boy for nothing). We then had a quick briefing about safety and how the project operates by a couple of hippy-type volunteers who'd been employed to teach the guides English. Currently, you might point to a flower and ask "What's that?" to be told, quite proudly, that it is "A flower!" The briefing was momentarily interrupted by the arrival of two Dutch boys swinging into the treehouse wearing Tarzan-style capes. You can tell when someone is on their way, because the whole treehouse sways. Although many of the trees are maybe only 50 metres (ONLY?) high in themselves, you are often gliding over valleys which lie many many metres deeper still. I was about to find this out when we glided over to Treehouse 2. The wire went on forever (more room for error) and was ridiculously high. I know I often dispay a fatalistic attitude, but really this time, falling to the ground would mean only one thing. And it would hurt a lot in the process.

After doing another great big line, we were well and truly high (great joke, I know). We then split into two groups and started our trek to Treehouse 3, which was to be our home for the night. We couldn't believe the facilities - it was nicer than most hotels we've stayed in over the past 4 months. Set out were futons with lovely duvets, pillows and mozzie nets. In one corner was a mini kitchen with a gas stove, plenty of nice nibbles and, best of all...a bathroom!! The long-drop toilet was indeed a very long drop, and although the lack of privacy was a little disconcerting at first (we were sharing the house with a girl called Chrissy from Brighton and two guides), you soon got used to it. Of course, you can't use loo roll in the jungle, so you have to "Do it the Laos Way" i.e. water and hand! The best thing though, was the shower. After the long trek, it was the best shower I've ever had. Looking out into the trees whilst washing my bits, I felt like I was doing an advert for Herbal Essences shampoo.

The rest of the afternoon was spent just sat in the tree, listening to the amazing cacaphony (love that word too) surrounding us. It was truly deafening, I didn't know that we'd ever manage to sleep. There had been a couple of snakes living in the tree, but thankfully they'd moved out by the time we arrived. The treehouse was equipped with a very informative folder, containing lots of information about the animals housed in the jungle below. Lots of scary facts about the snakes and just how poisonous they are etc. etc. yet no practical knowledge on what to do if one comes into the treehouse. You can always count on the people who set these sort of projects up to be ridiculously pc and devoid of any humour. The introductory page said "We really frown upon use of the word "trekking."" Apparently it has connotations of using the minority groups as some sort of "Ethnic Zoo." It says you should never take photos of locals unless you can 100% guarantee that you will give them a copy. Call me picky, but I really don't think these places have a postal address. Anyway, the ultimate line and I quote "Rather than "trekking" we would prefer it if you use the term "treeking." Treeking??!! I mean - come on!!!

After reading the "Storm and Typhoon" policy, I did feel a bit apprehensive should such a situation arise. But I reasoned that we were only sleeping in the treehouse for two nights, so it would be pretty unlucky if we were forced to evacuate.

In addition to my growing cynicism, I must be getting old, as I placed little faith in our 16 year old guide. A bit like when old ladies can never quite believe the age of policemen or doctors. These doubts were confirmed in the middle of the night, but more about that later. After our guides had made us a tasty dinner, they got into their duvets and promptly fell asleep, with the candles still burning. We decided to retire to our beds as we knew we'd have another day of very hard trekking (sorry, treeking) ahead of us. It was amazing just lying there, listening to the nighttime antics of creatures you couldn't see, only imagine. Sometimes, the noises were quite alarming - especially hearing a Barking Deer somewhere beneath us. It was so loud, we thought it must be a massive creature. We soon drifted off into a lovely sleep, safe in the knowledge our mozzie net was securely tucked in around the edges, ensuring any snake, mozzie or spider attack would be safely thwarted.

Around midnight, I awoke to the appearance of lightning somewhere in the distance. I thought I'd go to the loo to investigate. I quit enjoyed watching the pink sky light up in the distance and the low grumble of thunder and felt relieved it was so far away. I returned to bed and continued listening, silently hoping the storm would travel in the opposite direction but also enjoying the comfort of my lovely bed. But as I listened, the thunder seemed to becoming more than a faraway growl and eventually I nudged Andy, my apprehension growing as the number of seconds between thunder and lightning decreased steadily. We agreed we'd just sit it out - after all - the guides were still fast asleep and surely they were tuned to nature much more than us. Suddenly though, the storm it appeared was upon us and the treehouse began to sway a little. We were still quite calm as we prepared to wake the guides, when suddenly they woke up. The following sequence of events must have only lasted 5 minutes, but it seemed to go on forever.

The young guide lept from his bed and began shouting "Quick, quick, evacuate now," whilst simultaneously running around the treehouse, knocking billy cans and plates over in his wake. "Harness on now!!" he was shouting, his eyes wide with panic. He attached himself quickly and sped off down the wire ("So long as he's O.K!," I thought), leaving the other guide to help us get ready. My hands were shaking so badly, it was a pretty tricky manoevre. Of course, we were still unused to putting on our harnesses - let alone doing it in the dark. I unsteadily made my way to the platform and the guide hooked me onto the zip line...in the pitch dark I might add!! Screaming at Andy for the torch, I had to see for myself I was secure before I lept into the blackness. All the while the guide was shouting "Go, go, go!!!!" I felt like I was in the Army - and coped with the situation by pretending I was in a film. I was picturing a scene similar to so many other films where I was the short chubster recruit who seemed to be rubbish at all the exercises. This could only mean one thing - in the face of adversity, I would succeed against everyone's expectation (I think the other ending is to go mental and get sent home on medical grounds).

I counted to 3 and then off I went, unable to see a thing. It was like a flying dream, real yet unreal. In some ways it was less terrifying in the dark, because you couldn't see how high up you were. I landed at the other end and made my way to the ground shelter, which is reassurringly fitted with a lightning rod. I sat there, anxiously awaiting Andy's safe arrival. It seemed to take forever, but soon we were all safely evacuated. I attempted to berrate the young guide for being so alarmist - there was no way he should have been such a panic merchant. It had only made the situation worse. Imagine him as a nurse! "Shit, you're having a heart attack!!! Oh my God, you could die at any moment! Quick, sign this consent form, go go go!!!!" No matter, we were out of the sky and this was the main point.

We then huddled together and attempted to sleep. Of course, the wildlife posed more danger at this level and so little sleep was achieved by any of us except the guides. At one point the young one sat bolt upright and said "O.K. You go back to treehouse now." But the storm was still upon us, which didn't make much sense and anyway, we were all very reluctant to move. Using the wire whilst in the eye of the storm is a definite contraindication as you put yourself at massive risk of being hit by lightning. Thankfully we ignored his statement, even though he repeated it once more. Considering the speed at which he began snoring again, we concluded he had been sleep talking. Turns out, he also sleep walks!!! Did he not declare this on his occupational health questionnaire when they took him on? Only in Asia would this be condoned.

Daylight came at 5:30 and we were all desperate to return to our treehouse as we'd had so little time to enjoy its luxury during the night. We could hear the distant singing of gibbons in the distance and hoped we'd see them for real later on. After breakfast, we set out early on our trek to Treehouse 4, which was to be our home for the next night. It was all a bit gruelling - some very steep uphill climbing. Still, Private Chubster managed it, all the while realising what a flagrant waste of money the David Lloyd membership had been. It's pretty tough exercising in such a hot climate - lucky for me, Em had given me a Platypus reservoir bag for such occasions. You fill it with water and place this in your rucksack. It is attached to a hose with a one-way valve which you use to drink through whenever you want. Brilliant device - thanks Em!! En-route we did manage to spot a couple of Black Gibbons frolicking in the tree tops. They were screeching the most deafening tunes, which was just mental - very funny. They are all black at birth but once they reach puberty, the females go a yellowy blonde (sounds like Whitehawk).

Treehouse 4 wasn't quite so luxurious, with no kitchen or bathroom. To access these facilities, you have to get on the zip line and then do a very steep climb down - a bit of a nightmare for nocturia sufferers. I found this the most scary of all lines. I went first, stupidly assuming there'd be a guide there to assist me at the other end. No such luck. As I arrived (stopping several metres short of my destination and after shimmying along using my hands - knackering not to mention scary) I realised I was stuck. With my rucksack on, I was wedged on the very narrow platform, unable to get myself properly into the treehouse. Eventually I worked it out, but every time I entered Treehouse 4 I encountered terrible problems and it's fair to say I panicked somewhat!

We spent the afternoon laughing hysterically about the night before, dozing and swimming in the waterfall below (this was the only way to wash at Treehouse 4). Chrissie was a bit bored though and decided she fancied yet another gruelling 3 hour hike (madness) so off she went. Our new guides informed us they would be sleeping in the kitchen at ground level and so we would have the treehouse to ourselves - the honeymoon suite! As we ate our supper however, we became aware of the sickening distant murmour of our nemesis - a storm threatened us once again. Luckily, we managed to persuade our new guide, along with the cook, to stay the night with us in the tree. We wouldn't have felt confident making the decision to evacuate on our own - especially when the evacuation process itself seemed so dangerous in the dark.

We felt our chances were much improved with this guide - after all, he was Chief of the village (see pictue below) nearby (at only 22!!), so he had to be responsible. So we taught the guide how to play shithead (our favourite card game) and then they disappeared down the zip wire to return the leftover food to the kitchen. This meant however, them taking Andy's harness with them. As we nervously continued our card game, the storm seemed to be getting nearer. The guides had been gone for about an hour and our concern was swelling once more. What if the storm was suddenly upon us and we only had one harness? In desperation, we shouted down to the guides below and soon enough, they were back with us. Panic over, at least for now.

Off to bed we went, feeling like Lady Luck was smiling on us this time. Wrong again!! I awoke with a sensation of feeling wet (nothing to do with bladder response to fear). It was pouring with rain. Andy had been awake for some time, listening to the approaching weather. Suddenly, from nowhere there was the most almighty crack of thunder, with lightning occurring simultaneouly. It lit up our expressions which were frozen in caracature with terror. This time, we were properly scared. We were in the eye of the storm and there was nothing we could do about it. The only saving grace was that there was no wind. In addition, our Chief was observing everything with a quiet confidence. "It's O.K." he said comfortingly, "No wind." We set forth producing our own turbulent air space within the mozzie net - a mixture of the green beans we'd had for supper and fear that made me literally quake. We busied ourselves by moving our bed out of the rain and before too long, the storm began to depart.

As we ate our breakfast, we hugged each other and agreed it was good to be alive - if we survived our final trek back to the village, we would have made it. I know this sounds very dramatic, but I've honestly never been so scared. Andy, who as you know is usually the image of cool, was terrified too, so I know I'm not being a drama queen this time.

The trek back to the Chief's village was another mini adventure in itself. Because of the rain, there were lots of interesting bugs about - check out this crazy type of bug! More annoyingly though, there were leeches!! We were well prepared and wore our long trousers and boots, except being forever vain, I'd fallen short of tucking the old trousers into the socks. After a while, I felt a sharp needling pain in my knee, which I duly ignored for a while. Surely a leech wouldn't bother to climb up my leg before it latched on would it? I though I'd have a quick peek and sure enough, one was merrily sucking the life force from me. Now, being an avid Ray Mears follower, I know that you are supposed to burn leeches off - if you pull them they can leave their face embedded in your flesh, which can get infected. Nice. However, it seemed this was the method favoured by the Chief, so I went with it. It was only later on that I noticed an area on my thigh (about the size of my hand) which was soaked in blood. I hadn't felt a thing - what rank creatures.

We arived at the village in once piece but I felt mildly disappointed that Ant 'n' Dec weren't there to meet us with a glass of champers. Safe in the knowledge I'd fared a lot better than that All Saints bird, I didn't care that I more closely resembled Carol Thatcher in appearance. We've just had the most extreme adventure of our lives and in all probablility, we were maybe never in any danger at all (apart from the anaemia caused by my FIVE leech bites). That said, it was truly brilliant and we've done something that so few others have. I have absolutely loved Laos and would like to say "Kwaap jai lai lai" to the people of this amazing country.