Travel Blogs: Pippi Langkous

Pippi Langkous's Travel Blogs

1. First past the post

... in that this is the first post and the time I had originally planned to post it has now past! I've been meaning to write the first post for ages, but a bit overwhelmed with preparations. Then I spent a whopping 12Eur on the Internet in Brussels and Frankfurt, saved it in my Gmail drafts and managed to delete it all. And then there was a big earthquake in Taiwan and we had no Internet access. Excuses, excuses... start as you mean to go on and all that!

Anyway, hello! I'm Laura Chapman and I'll be traveling for half a gap year to South East Asia (terribly intrepid I know completely uncharted territory) with my boyfriend of 5 or 6ish years, Davy Goossens, who is a Belgian (small country squashed between France and The Netherlands). He has threatened to post in Dutch at some point in advance, apologies!

 

Doing:

Officially on a 'career gap' as, unlike most of these young gappers, we've been working for the past several years. The lovely Belgian government kindly give everybody the right to up to 12 months off over the course of their career. They are even paying us a small amount of money each month, now who said Belgium was boring?!

 

 

Living:

We've been living in Gent (Belgium again) for the past few years (not good with dates), which is officially the best city in the world, don't let anyone tell you otherwise. If you've not visited, go now!

 

Motivation (look who's been in business too long):

Me:

see monkeys, dolphins and a bit of rainforest before it disappears. Broaden my horizons, meet new people, see new things. Not work for 6 months!

Him:

something about new cultures! Basically, we both need to get out of the 'comfort zone'-and comfort is something life in Belgium does well.

 

Fears:

 

Me:

sharks (totally irrational I know, but I'm a pisces, what can you do?), fish sauce, dried shrimp, the smell of fish sauce and dried shrimp, anything previously sentient ending up on my plate, the shocking carbon footprint my sinful flight will be inflicting on the world (offset at carbonfund.org as a token gesture, but still) and becoming one of those braying tourists we all love to hate who have total disrespect for local cultures, other travellers etc. etc.

Him:

ending up in prison (slightly concerns me - not quite sure what he's planning on getting up to).

 

 

The Plan:

Thailand (3 weeks), Laos (3 weeks), 1 month in Thailand rescuing baby turtles, which I really hope will be the highlight, Cambodia (3 weeks), Vietnam (2 weeks), Malaysia (1.5 months), Indonesia (1 month). But we're on about the zillionth itinerary revision so the chances of this remaining the case are slim.

 

 

Packing et al:

Unfortunately I suffer from an incurable disease (geekiness), which means that I like to plan everything in minute detail-in fact, I've been widely mocked for highlighting sections of my guide book. I've even used those little sticky page marker things. On the other hand, I also have something of a disorganised streak, which when combined with Davy's sloth like demeanor, meant there was much stress, rushing around and cross words in the run up to departure (bodes well for 6 months in each other's company no?!)

 

However, packing was a breeze. True to geek form, I created a hybrid packing list from my guidebook and the wonderful resource that is gapyear.com (such a godsend for the cautious traveler). I even printed out Tom's packing guide, and it has so far stood me in good stead no creased t-shirts or spilled shampoo for me!

We had a last minute disaster with the Thai visa, in that that the lovely woman (although Davy called her a slightly different name on his return from the embassy, gave us the wrong one, lied about it and then refused to change it. Other than that, no major dramas so far (ha, see, now you're envious of the geekiness!)

2. Sleepless in Siam

We had an eventful flight over totally overbooked so we ended up sitting apart. I'm ashamed to admit I sobbed when the person next to me wouldn't swap seats (stress and home-leaving-induced I like to think, rather than stupid bloody woman syndrome). The evil non swapping a'hole then proceeded to spend the rest of the flight hogging the armrest and with his feet in my footwell. He burnt his fingers on the foil of his airplane meal though. Karma. Not that I'm petty (no way).

Bangkok has so far been significantly less scary than I anticipated. There's definitely the odd conman around (usually driving the infamous 'tuk tuks'), but most people are extremely friendly, smiling and helpful.

It's a total shopping mecca. We went along to the MBK, a huge shopping 'mall', as they will insist on calling them, with a wonderful 7 floors. I nearly peed my pants! However, it doesn't give much in the way of ego massage when you ask for sizing advice, the shop assistant looks you up and down and hands you an XL bikini. And it fits.

The food is magnificent; lots of veggie restaurants and I've been super daring and eaten from street stalls! Oooh the high jinks us young'uns get up to. May Kaidee's vegetarian restaurant, which is in just about every guidebook is well worth it's reputation. The people are so friendly and there's so much choice, it was actually a bit stressful trying to pick something. A number of other veggie restos have sprung up nearby and are also great (but as they're not in the guidebook they're all but empty. I felt sorry for them so tried them out. I really need to ditch the big softy attitude.)

There's almost no wine here so I'm drinking Thai beer. Combined with my incessant eating (I fear I may not find vegetables outside the city!), I will soon develop a beer gut and won't even be allowed into the MBK bikini section.

We've been attempting to get into the local spirit and barter, although at first none of the stall owners would lower the prices, which is not at all the way I've heard it's supposed to work! Getting slightly better (I've explained to Davy that the more I buy, the better it is for our haggling skills).

We spent our first night in the Gap Year-recommended Thai Cozy Guesthouse, which was clean and friendly. Unfortunately the devil incarnate was sleeping in the room next door (in the guise of a 3 year old girl - British, quel surprise), who roamed the corridors from 8am-4am wailing and throwing tantrums with a voice that could cut through steel. How I longed to pull a Super Nanny and put the feral beast on the naughty step (preferably in another city). Needless to say, we decided to move elsewhere.

I found a beautiful place in the guide (Shanti Lodge), where no shoes are allowed and it's all very yogic, veggie, organic (and well, very me). Sadly fully booked so Davy went out hunting while I minded the bags. In retrospect I now recognise this as misguided. I had a sense of foreboding when he returned to say he'd gone for something more 'basic' for 350Bhat (about 7Eur per night). It managed to fulfil all my expectations and turned out to be at the bottom of a staircase of a 5 storey building, past which our fellow grot hole dwellers were clearly going to be tramping well into the night. I fondly labelled it flea pit; filthy floor, bed, curtains, and even walls, and more damp than Reginald Perrin's bedsit (as evidenced below). I can't even begin to talk about the bathroom (dirty sinks are the bane of my life). Needless to say he didn't sleep a wink. Again, karma.

It's not as warm as we expected, which on the plus side means no nasty airco, but also means I'm still as pasty as the Pillsbury dough boy (but not bitter at all).

The frightening traffic makes road crossing a real joy as pedestrian crossings are routinely ignored. The only way to cross is to throw oneself in front of the oncoming traffic (the guide suggests you follow a local, which I guess at least ensures you're not hit first!) Overall much the same as Brussels in the road safety and density of traffic department. Fortunately they have a great sky train with flat screen TVs and aircon.

As for the sights, the Grand Palace and emerald Buddha are awe inspiring with incredible murals and craftsmanship, if a little heavy on the bling. Those not covering their shoulders and ankles (Davy), are forced to wear nylon shell suitesque trousers as punishment. Fortunately I was wearing my demure temple going skirt and really got into the self-righteousness, there was a German woman of about 40 with a pair of shorts so busy living up to their name they didn't have time to cover her bum cheeks. Shocking.

Most of the long term travellers we've met seem quite jaded, we're still at the wide-eyed hapless excitement stage and have loved ever minute of it (apart from when we got lost trying to find the station and were chased by a pack of rabid dogs, only a slightly exaggerated version. Well, one barked at me. Whatever).

We've traded in the night time rumblings of passing tuk tuks, yowling cats and frankly inconsiderate young revellers, some of whom wear t-shirts bearing the slogan "if the music's too loud, you're too old". Whatever, I soon saw them off with my umbrella. We now find ourselves in lovely Kanchanaburi, which is all stunning caves, waterfalls, forests and rolling hills.

We're staying in a lovely floating bamboo hut (Sugar Cane) on the river Kwai (and the sink's clean!!) The huts without river view are a mere 150 Bhat per night. The Thailand-Burma Railway Centre is fantastic and definitely worth a visit, telling in graphic and moving detail the stories of the POWs who were forced to construct the railway line, which includes the bridge over the River Kwai. We visited said bridge, which has huge gaps for small children to fall to their deaths in the water below (so far removed from England - particularly as it's free to walk across!) Fairly touristy, but extremely relaxed and a total contrast to bustling Bangkok.

Only been here a few days, but feels like I've been here forever. Next stop Ayutthaya. Bonne annee!

3. Life thru a lens

I will attempt to limit myself after the last tome (I'm even beginning to bore myself)!

I'm finding that travelling progresses in the manner of a cocktail party (bear with me on this analogy). You drift about saying the same things to different people, none of whose names you know, and then just as you start getting to like people, it's time to go home. As newbies, we've not got much to share so we're mainly stealing tips from others. I keep wanting to talk about our holiday to Kenya and Tanzania, but it just sounds too 'yar, yar, when we were on safari in Kenya darling', that I'm trying to keep it under wraps!

We spent a pleasant few days in Ayutthaya, formerly the Thai capital, now fairly rough around the edges, but still maintaining a certain charm. We rented bikes on the first day. Seriously I don't know what's got into me, I've not ridden a bike since a particularly painful Belgian cobblestones experience more than 5 years ago. It must be the whole spirit of adventure thing, it's clearly going to my head. Whizzed round the Thai countryside looking for an elusive elephant sanctuary. Got lost through small villages where the children delight in shouting 'hello' as you pass (although I think they were starting to tire of the game the 15th time we cycled past). Eventually decided to ask someone, but unfortunately our trusty phrase book and 'point it' book let us down in the 'elephant' department, so we were reduced to flailing about miming trunks with our arms and relying on a picture of an elephant Davy had drawn (although frankly looked more like a dog with a large appendage). Finally made it for elephant bath time and watched the gorgeous baby elephants fighting to be scrubbed and splashed by their keeper.

Stayed in a clean, quiet guesthouse called Chantana and went out boogying next door on New Year's Eve. All very cheerful, with foreigners from across the globe rubbing shoulders with drunken Thai youths, most of whom were barfing over their girlfriend's stilettos before the evening was out. All the different nationalities were called up to say 'Happy New Year' in their own language (there was another Belgian so Davy didn't get to go - what are the chances?!), other than America, which was conspicuously left out (Mr Bush is doing a great PR job the world over).

New Year's Eve Thai-stylee:

Next day I took off on my trusty bike accompanied by obligatory NY's day hangover and safe in the knowledge that I'd made hundreds of friends the night before (if only I could remember their names). We toured around the ancient temples, a tranquil oasis in the centre of the city, which was really quite breathtaking, even in my weakened state.

Next stop was Khao Yai national park, where we took a superb tour with a local Guesthouse (Greenleaf), with a very funny, knowledgeable (and dishy!) guide. We watched bats (2 million no less) swarm from their caves, saw all sorts of wildlife (snakes, monitor lizard, barking deer, gibbons, macaques), swam at a freezing waterfall when most of our group wimped out and I even held a scorpion spider (a peer pressure thing - can't have them thinking us Brits are yellow-bellies. Fortunately I have my vegetarian get out of jail free card, which at least gets me out of eating cockroaches, grasshoppers and other nasties).

On the way back we saw a huge elephant in the road and a large crowd around it taking pics. The tour guides were shouting for them to keep back, but hunting instinct took over and they were all closing in to get a picture (I was of course at the back of the group - my daring doesn't extend to wild animals). It really struck me how obsessed everybody is with getting a good photo, as if the experience counts less if it's not recorded in digital format. As a result, I'm trying to control my snap-happiness!

At Kho Yai, even the macaqs have to earn their keep:

Back on the train, ferry, bus etc. to a small island called Ko Si Chang, which is basically a small fishing village in the sea. Nothing going on, which suited us perfectly as we've been dashing about since arrival. Tried to get a tuk tuk and found they had formed a cartel with price fixing scams to put our supermarkets to shame. The first driver quotes a ridiculous price and word goes up the line and they all stick to it. At this point I should probably mention that we're usually haggling over about 10 pence. But you see, if tourists pay over-inflated prices for everything, locals will be priced out of the market. So we're really championing the little guy. Not being cheap. No, no, no. I dread to think what the haggling's doing to me - I have visions of myself walking around the supermarket at home shouting '1Euro for a bottle of milk, no way, I'll give you 25 cents for it!'

Spent a nice couple of days loafing about on the beach, and in my case hunting for shells (I'm a 4 year old trapped in the body of somebody old enough to know better. It's tragic really, when you think about it). The beach's proximity to the seedy town of Pattaya meant we met our fair share of dirty old men. Call me Victorian, but when did lady boys, ping pong shows (don't ask) and the like become a matter for after-dinner conversation? We met a particularly charming German, from Dachau incidentally, who tried to engage us in conversation with the opener 'you know Belgians are also responsible for genocide'. Chip. Shoulder.

We're now up in Chiang Mai, which is supremely touristy, and filled with the sort of people who like to eat tofu. We're fitting in a treat, I'm embracing crustiness with relish (I mean who wants to wash in cold water?!) My feet are black, I only have about 4 items of clothing, none of which match and Davy's grown a huge fisherman's beard and even bought a pair of those funny wrap-around fisherman's trousers! We thought of going trekking but became wracked with liberal guilt about exploitation of the hill tribes (basically it's group after group of people traipsing through their villages staring at them 'going about their daily business', which they do with photogenic flair).

So instead, today, we've been gung-ho on the bikes again, weaving in and out of the heavy Chiang Mai traffic like natives and visiting a peaceful temple in the middle of a forest (Wat U-Mong - extra points for comedy value of name). Next stop, Chiang Rai, where we hope to do a nature trek of the non-exploitative, greeny-friendly variety. Aaah, a conscience can be so burdensome!

4. The road most travelled

Chiang Rai, according to the guide book, gives more of a flavour of authentic Thai life. Certainly less touristy than Chiang Mai, apart from a small section of the main street where the sort of people who look like they would do better on a coach tour of Bavaria mass together to eat pizza and 'french fried' as they're fondly known here. However, it lacked Chiang Mai's chaotic charm and we lingered only a couple of days.

Didn't manage to find the ecotour company, so instead booked a tour with PDA, an NGO channelling all funds to the hill tribes and running the amusingly named 'Cabbages and Condoms' restaurant, which aims to make condoms as easily available as cabbages to cut the HIV rate amongst the hill tribes. Certainly a worthy cause. The tour was a bit of a disaster however. We did a beautiful longboat trip up the river, fantastic scenery, then went to a Karen (hill tribe) village for our elephant ride. Felt a bit uncomfortable about it, but our mahout was really kind to the elephant and we fed him a couple of bananas in return for him hauling us up a steep ravine for an hour. Fair deal say I. Was a great 'experience', but certainly not the most comfortable I've ever had (much posterior numbness engendered). We then went to see the tribal villages, which was quite as awful as I had anticipated. Our guide's English was less than exemplary and he appeared to know nothing at all about the hill tribes. The tour basically consisted of him dragging us round several villages, pointing and saying 'pig', 'chicken', 'bamboo house', which I can safely say I could have managed to work out for myself. All very commercial and intrusive. But it's horses for courses, as we've met people who love these kind of tours.

To atone, we visited the PDA-run hill tribe museum, which was superb, giving a detailed overview of the tribes and their cultures and customs, as well as the history of opium production, which was their main source of income pre-tourism. We gave some money to buy the hill tribe children warm jumpers for the winter and felt moderately cheered.

For those of you who've not yet been to Thailand, and you really should, here are some random observations to give a bit of local colour: Bangkok is a really diverse city, the modern faction have ipods, mobiles and Prada and wile away their time in Dunkin' Donuts (with the doughnut waistlines to prove it), while those less fortunate survive on $1 a day. Almost everything takes place on the street, particularly eating, with more food vendors than there can possibly be people eating the food. There are cats and dogs everywhere you go (and in Laos, avian-flu infested chicken broods stroll along the busy streets), capable of producing a cacophony of ghastly animal sounds at all hours of the day or night. The traffic can be horrendous - scooters abound and seem to work by their own rules of the road. Girls in skirts ride scooters side-saddle and you often see at least 2 small children trailing off the back. They love their King and there's a plethora of yellow t-shirts (the King's colour) wherever you go. The TV is sacrosanct (particularly dubbed kung-fu movies of dubious quality) - there's a large screen TV at Bangkok station and the whole station comes to a standstill to stare wide-eyed and riveted.

From a travelling perspective, it's a very small world and you repeatedly see the same people wherever you go. It's a much older crowed than expected (horror visions of sprawling on the beach surrounded by nubile 18 year-old Swedish gals gladly forgotten - I acknowledge some might count this as a drawback). Indeed, we've probably met more over 50s than under 20s and fair dincum to the dinosaurs, they make me feel young if nothing else!

Now on to Laos. I feel I've been misleading you thus far dear reader. While you're sitting in your sleek office, you are possibly imagining me hauling my backpack along dusty tracks in the searing heat with nothing but passing cockroaches for company. In reality, our trip through Laos thus far has been incredibly well-oiled and civilised (and long may it continue). Tis a very well trodden path indeed, not at all the remote destination it's made out to be.

We took the obligatory slow boat down the Mekong river, along with all and sundry and all and sundry's baggage. They managed to squeeze hundreds off us on to one boat, conjuring plastic chairs as if from nowhere, using the Ikea method of making the most of all the available space. I was stuck in front of a local gent who intermittently smoked, coughed up phlegm and spat said phlegm out of the side of the boat with alarming regularity. I know you probably didn't need to know that, but it's a frighteningly common pastime over here - even the women spit in the streets. Quel horreur! The scenery more than makes up for it, all water buffalo, waterfalls, craggy tree-covered hills and sandy coves. And small children board the boat to sell you beer and crisps. By the second day, we'd all got a bit tired of it though, ungrateful bunch, and out came the books and ipods so we may have well have been sailing down the M5.

We stopped overnight in Pakbeng, a small town sprung up from nothing to cater for the slow boat overnighters, where you are still enough of a novelty to attract small gangs of children shadowing you. Then on to Luang Prabang, a UNESCO world heritage site and ancient capital of the area. It maintains a lot of its old charm and orange-clad monks and their 'wats' (temples) abound. Mix in a dash of colonial French architecture and a welcome baguette and red wine legacy and you have something pretty idyllic (if a tad on the touristy side).

After a few days sightseeing, we took the bus to Viang Vieng. I can safely say it's the worst journey I think I've ever done (making my elephant seem positively bump-free in comparison). With 5 and a half hours of jolting, windy roads (and we took a so-called VIP bus as we were too wimpy for the local bus), the bus handed out special sick bags and stopped regularly so people could enjoy their use. I'd already been sick before we left the bus station (clearly food poisoning. Certainly entirely unrelated to the two for one cocktail offer at Luang Prabang's Hive bar the previous evening), so was thankful for the travel sickness pills we had the foresight to pack.

Viang Vieng is a wonderful place. Entirely artificial and horribly Western, it's burgeoned from a small village into a caving, tubing and bars-playing-pirated-DVDs paradise for the pleasure of the passing backpacker. We made full use of the DVDs, cramming in about 10 Friends episodes during our short stay and we 'tubed' twice, which I would highly recommend. All very leisurely with breathtaking scenery (and plenty of opportunity to buy Beer Lao along the way). Only faces full of river weed chucked by cheeky local kiddies and a Club 18-30s-style bar along the river, where macho men and scantily clad girls pose in time to the booming beats, detract from the idyll (such a snob!) Viang Vieng also has a fantastic organic cafe and farm which invests in local education, sustainable farming practices and all things that are good. Unfortunately the farm's accommodation was full, but we stuffed ourselves at the restaurant daily - I'm prepared to go to all sorts of terrible lengths for the good of the environment.

A drag to leave it, but onwards and upwards. We're now in Vientiane, which we like less - large parts of the city centre seem to be completely devoid of people ghost-town style. But we await a Thai visa, so we're retiring to a nearby ecoresort, Ban Pako, for a couple of days respite from our hectic lifestyle!

5. Lost in Laos

The obtaining of a visa in Vientiane was something of a kerfuffle-laden debacle. After 4 hours of nail biting our friendly visa official came outside, calling for a Miss Lola. It took us about 5 minutes to work out that I was in fact Miss Lola (lost in translation - in Thailand, 'flied lice' is to fried rice what 'Lola' is to Laura). All this much to the amusement of the 60 other visa victims in attendance. Well screw them, I think it suits me.

To recover, we treated ourselves to an utterly deserved break at the Ban Pako eco-resort (www.banpako.com). It's truly as lovely as it looks on the pics and all but deserted during the week as it tends to be more geared towards resident expats than passing backpackers. Struck me as amusing that resident Lao hanker after concrete homes, while we happily splash out $14 to sleep on a bamboo platform! An eco-friendly platform mind. They also have cheaper dorms for those of tighter fist. Certainly worth the money; we had the little natural pool completely to ourselves, met nobody on our 3 hour walk round the surrounding forest and were lulled to sleep with the sound of croaking frogs.

Much of our time in Laos has been spent on buses, as the country has yet to invest in a rail system. I have to say this is almost my favourite part as it gives such entertaining insight into local life. On our first bus trip towards the south of the country we stepped on the bus to a deathly hush as they all turned to gape at these lanky aliens who had stepped on with their huge rucksacks and matching huge feet. At the first stop the entire bus (bar us) emptied for a collective pee behind a nearby thicket. This was clearly a daily occurrence; I shudder to imagine the stench. The second stop we trooped out to buy drinks and stumbled upon a cock fight with a group of braying men cheering on the deathly pecking (why is it always men?) Very much a welcome spectator sport for any vegetarian. As the day wore on, an engine was piled on to the bus, an electric fan, a motorbike, three large bags of tiny live fish and a handful of chickens thrown in for good measure. Surely we could have had a good stab at a Guinness record.

Our next stop in Laos was sleepy Savannaket, where tourists are very much a minority, affording us near-celebrity status, with every resident we passed delighting in shouting 'hello!' and children running up to shake your hand. Thankfully I have antibacterial hand wash - some of them were really rather grubby! We ate at the delightful Xoxhay restaurant, as there was nobody else in it so softie felt sorry for them. The food was as lovely as the owners who brought us free soup, bottles of water and bananas. If you're passing, go there! At night we slept in a guesthouse near the bus station, which our guide failed to tell us also appeared to rent rooms by the hour. We were lucky enough to be next to a particularly vocal woman of, erm, certain repute who would have put Bangkok's wailing cat population to shame.

Then on to Pakse, which is a good gateway to the rest of the south and a nice stopover town. We moved on to Thad Lo for 4 days, which I thoroughly recommend as it remains relatively less touristy than the other destinations we visited in Laos. The waterfalls are spectacular, with lots of opportunity to dip your toes, and the bamboo huts are cheap as chips. Unfortunately on arrival it was going through something of a cold spat (didn't sign up for that) and we were forced to wear pullovers in the morning and evening, shock horror. We met an interesting German/French couple who frequently come to Belgium for medieval role play holidays (apparently, unbeknown to me, this is very big in Belgium??!!) They regaled us with fascinating tales of capturing an armadillo in Thailand to be sent to what they thought was a conservation park, only to find that they mayor who took it had in actual fact eaten it. And they made us drink rice whisky (known as Lao Lao), with giant dead millipedes floating in it (aah, that peer pressure thing again). The following day, we toddled off on our own with a frankly skimpy trail map and quite surprisingly got hopelessly lost. Fortunately we managed to find a friendly machete-wielding local who guided us as we trampled across his coffee plantation, making me not at all nervous.

Final stop in Laos (boo hoo) was the 4000 islands region, the emerald in Laos' crown and so-called for the many islands (4000 if I were to hazard a guess) dotting the huge Mekong as it spreads its way down through the country. It's utterly picturesque, with unrivalled sunsets. We stayed on Don Det, which is one of the smaller islands but not quite as untouched as we'd hoped, with far more guesthouses than residents. Rather like a low-key, chilled out Viang Vieng with sporadic electricity. Still, it's $2 a night for a bamboo hut with river view and a hammock on the balcony to help you wile away the hours. We spent 5 days lazing about, cycling round the island, visiting waterfalls, spotting the rare Irrawaddy river dolphins (well 2 small black fins in the distance, does that count?) and going with our crazy neighbours to sleep out under the stars in a hammock on a deserted nearby island.

And now for a few facts as I leave this marvellous, sleepy country. Laos is landlocked, relatively poor and it is apparently illegal for the women to dye their hair. It's official name is the People's Democratic Republic of Laos, our guidebook quipping that the PDR really stands for 'please don't rush'. A former French colony, the older generation still prefer French to English (goddamit, I travel to the other side of the world and still don't get to avoid speaking French), and much to my delight you can find baguettes and 'laughing cow' throughout the country. The children are probably the most delightful and cheerful I have seen; ever resourceful, they use plastic bags as balloons and grow up able to fix almost anything with a small piece of wire. Let's hope Playstation never makes it to Laos, to rob it of all innovation.

We're now back in Thailand, Ranong to be precise, down in the South for our turtle conservation/animal sanctuary project. And ohmigod, it ain't 'alf 'ot mum. I'm thoroughly looking forward to shovelling monkey crap in 33C heat for the next month.

Miss Lola xxx