Naomi's travelbug adventures

Hoofing it up to Buddha

2011-04-10T05:37:00.000-07:00

Think of Hong Kong and not surprisingly, you immediately visualize a concrete and glass jungle and wall to wall crowds surging through the streets. But what surprises me most about this place is the number of beautiful hiking trails that can be easily done on a day trip from downtown.

I knew I wanted to escape the urban mess, so it was time to try one of the famed trails. There's so many to choose from, but I thought I'd combine my hike with one of the well known tourist attractions, the Tian Tan Buddha, the giant bronze buddha on Lantau Island.

Getting there was half the fun -- after what seemed like an hour standing in line, I climbed into a glass floored cable car for a 6 kilometre ride to Ngong Ping Plateau. The views as we climbed to the 500 metres were spectacular:

The Ngong Ping village itself is a bit of tacky tourist trap; they have managed to Disney-fy the Buddhist religion with themed attractions, a fake Boddhi tree and a Starbucks to quench your latte cravings. But the Buddha itself is impressive:

And then it was time for the hike up Lantau Peak, and at 934 metres, it is the second highest mountain in Hong Kong. It started innocently enough and then quickly because ridiculously steep with stairs that seemed to go on forever. I was bathed in sweat and huffing and puffing the entire way. But the views were unbelievable:

The most beautiful city in the world??

2011-04-03T06:58:00.000-07:00

It was a glorious weekend in Hong Kong; the first warm sunny day after several weeks of "cooler" rainy weather. The air seems less hazier than usual so I thought this would be a good day to head to the Peak. Towering above Victoria Bay and home to the billionaires, this 552 metre mountain is one of the most popular tourist attractions in the city.

And no wonder! I actually think this place rivals Vancouver in terms of sheer stunning-ness. Judge for yourself.

Exploring the heart of Hong Kong Island

2011-03-27T04:13:00.000-07:00

Today, I decided to wander around Central, the main business district and the picturesque skyline of most Hong Kong post cards. I spent a pleasant Saturday wandering through streets taking in the views of the densely packed apartments crawling up Victoria Peak where the super rich perch their homes...

... admiring the few remaining colonial reminders of the British, swallowed up by modern skyscrapers ....

...walking through a botanical garden, a small zoo and an aviary....

... poking through narrow alleys where local proprietors sell everything from fake handbags, clothing and trinkets....

... and finally headed home to Kowloon on the Star Ferry ....

... all in all, an enjoyable day of exploring this fascinating city.

My awesome apartment in Hong Kong

2011-03-20T07:02:00.000-07:00

In case you're curious, here are some photos of my serviced apartment in Kowloon (74-78 Nathan Rd, Tsim Sha Tsui, if you want to google it). The set up is pretty sweet, and it comes with daily cleaning, an exceedingly helpful concierge, a teeny kitchenette with hot plate and a flat screen TV with DVD player. And the subway stop is right at my door step.

I could get used to this!

Cultural fusion on display in Macau

2011-03-20T06:54:00.000-07:00

A hop, skip and jump away from Hong Kong is another special administrative region of China that combines the architecture of southern Europe with the hedonistic joys of high stake gambling. Macau has a definite crass phoniness in that Las Vegas kind of way (like the made-in-China Venetian Hotel, complete with its own canals and gondoliers), but the influence of the city's Portuguese colonial past standing side-by-side with Chinese temples and shrines make it a fascinating place to visit.

I recently joined my colleague, her niece and her friend on a day-trip to the Vegas of the East, an hour ferry ride from Hong Kong. This is a popular destination that draws millions of Chinese every year to the only legal gambling destination in China - not surprisingly, the city has now surpassed its American rival in gambling income. I wandered around one smoke filled casino watching Chinese punters lay down $HK4,000 bills at at time to try their luck at black jack, roulette and several Chinese games that I couldn't figure out rules.

Then we hopped into a cab and found ourselves in the middle of the old town and in front of the city's famous landmark - the ruined facade of the Church of St Paul's.

The narrow cobbled streets (hello, Europe!) were congested with hundreds of tourists perusing the designer storefronts, stopping for the famous egg custard tarts (scrumptiously rich but apparently 5,000 calories) and cured meats (not so much a fan, but hugely popular). Here's one shop crowded by hungry customers:

I loved the architecture of the old city with the gothic, baroque and Roman influences, but the crowds were quite intense.

I am told that it's best to come during the week and spend some time getting lost through the back streets so I may be coming back.

First impressions full of surprises

2011-03-13T06:47:00.000-07:00

After my first week in Hong Kong, the one thing I can say is that this is a city of contrasts that continually surprises me. I've landed in the touristy ghetto neighbourhood of Tsim Sha Tsui in Kowloon, where gritty backpack hostels stand in the shadow of the $600-a-night Peninsula Hotel, where locals huddle over plastic tables, slurping down $5 bowls of noodles steps from the lineups of youngsters waiting to get into Prada and Louis Vuitton (yes, like night clubs).

Touts on the sidewalks wave pamphlets for massages and tailor at the hordes of crowds streaming down the main thoroughfare; yet at the base of this road, you're greeted by the most breathtaking, albeit a bit smoggy, view across the Victoria Harbour toward Hong Kong island.

Here's a few shots from around my neighbourhood:

And my first impression? This is an eminently civilized city where the transportation systems work well (wireless on the subways!) people are helpful, polite and respectful; and a single woman can wander around without feeling harassed or afraid for her safety. I'm looking forward to exploring more of what this exciting place has to offer in the weeks ahead.

A luxurious landing in Hong Kong - March 6, 2011

2011-03-05T22:19:00.000-08:00

I landed at the shiny Hong Kong International Airport early this morning, a bit groggy but excited for a chance to explore a city that I missed during My Great Asian Excursion in 2007. En route from the airport, I could see through the mist (or the smog?) the outlines of densely packed skyscrapers tucked into majestic mountains, and I could feel the familiar excitement of waking up on the other side of the world ready to immerse myself in a new culture.

But I also couldn't help comparing how different today's experience was from four years ago when I landed in Bangkok, with a backpack strapped to my shoulders and a free year to do anything I wanted. Today, I'm here for work, first and foremost, so over the next six weeks, my travelbug tendencies will have to intertwined with my days (and I expect nights) at the office.

And because I'm here for work, I get to partake in some of the luxuries that come with business travel -- business class on the airline (hello - pod seats that turn into a bed!), a car service from the airport and a nice, clean, fully equipped apartment in Kowloon. No backpacking hostels this time around!

Here's the view from my window:

At the top of the world -- November 27-29, 2007

2007-11-30T04:12:00.001-08:00

The next stop on our 10-day whirlwind tour of northern Vietnam was Sapa, a small community at the northern tip of the country and only a stone's throw away from the Chinese border. It's also home to emerald-green rice terraces, a breathtaking mountainous landscape and colourfully garbed ethnic tribes who flood the streets hawking embroidered textiles, silver jewellery and sometimes marijuana or hash.

Of course, the best way to explore Sapa's lush valleys, stunning vistas and tiny villages is by motorbike. We lost little time in renting our own rides and heading out with our new travel companions Rory and Danielle, a lovely couple who hail from gorgeous Hawaii. (We met in Cat Ba, and shared a 4-person sleeper cabin for the 10 hour train journey from Hanoi. They turned out to be the perfect travel companions - easy going, fun and adventurous -- so we ended up hanging out with them during our time in Sapa.)

The crisp cold temperature was a stark contrast to the tropic humidity that blankets most of Southeast Asia, so we bundled ourselves into scarves, mittens and toques and hit the road. Along the way, we got up close and personal with buffalo...

... haggled with young but savvy Hmong girls ...

... snacked on fire-roasted sticky rice, sweet potatoes and chestnuts at a roadside stall ...

... and posed in front of some pretty awesome peaks.

Scaling Halong Bay - November 22-26, 2007

2007-11-30T03:42:00.000-08:00

Up in the northeastern corner of Vietnam lies a vast bay sprinkled with 1,600 islets and islands. Named a UNESCO World Heritage site in 1994, Halong Bay is a popular tourist destination in Vietnam - and no wonder. Take a short boat ride into the bay and you'll pass hundreds of tiny secluded beaches tucked between spectacular limestone cliffs -- like Railay but multiplied by 1,000. Here's one particularly beautiful rock.

I had vague ideas about following the crowd and booking myself onto a multi-day trip aboard a boat to see some of the major attractions in the bay. With Shannon as my travel companion, I should have known better. While most tourists will simply gaze in wonder at the beautiful cliffs, he's quickly scoping out whether we can climb them.

So he hooked us up with Slopony, a new outdoor adventure outfit that is pioneering the sport of rock climbing in this most stunning of locations. Run by two Americans, Slopony is based in the tiny town of Cat Ba, a tranquil little town on one of the bay's largest islands. Here's the view from our fourth floor balcony.

Shannon's rock climbing obsession turned out to be the perfect way to experience Halong Bay. The rock climbing itself was great - it's a new sport here so unlike Railay, the routes are not overly crowded and the locations are gorgeously primitive. We spent one day climbing the cliffs in a pretty valley, surrounded by baying goats, meandering buffalo and rice farmers who must have thought we were slightly demented.

The company itself was great. They're professional and experienced, but best of all, Slopony has a laidback energy that is quite refreshing after the aggressive sales pitches of the local touts.

Here's a couple shots of me climbing. Here, Shannon happened to be coming down from a completed climb just as I was trying a route right next to him. Usually, there is a lot of "on-the-ground" coaching as the experienced climbers try and tell you where to put your feet and hands since from their vantage point, they have a better view of the route. This time though, Shannon was able to literally point out the holds to me, and at one point, he even grabbed my hand and placed it right on the ledge.

And here, I'm trying to get myself over a particularly hard "crux" - the most difficult part of the climb. I wasn't able to complete the climb on my first try, but did so when I returned the next day.

Hanoi's charms -- November 20-21, 2007

2007-11-30T02:22:00.001-08:00

After 12 days of scrambling up cliffs and lazing by the pool, it was time for Shannon and I to strap on our backpacks, bandage up our wounds and head to Vietnam for a whirlwind glimpse of this enigmatic country. Like everyone else, I was familiar with its recent history and I had heard rumours of its astounding natural beauty. Unfortunately, we had only 10 days to spend in Vietnam so we decided to concentrate on two of the more popular destinations in the north (Halong Bay and Sapa).

***

First stop of course was Hanoi, Vietnam's capital city and the political centre. It's also one of the more charming cities that I have visited in Southeast Asia -- the numerous lakes and trees provide a tranquil antidote to the city's hustle and bustle, especially in the early mornings when you can spot crowds of Vietnamese playing badminton and performing Tai Chi along the shores.

The Old Quarter is an especially intriguing area to explore on foot with street side vendors hawking every kind of merchandise along tiny winding lanes. We were delighted by the street food - in addition to the ubiquitous (and delicious) pho and spring rolls, we enjoyed the baguettes and pastries (we can thank the French colonialists for something!), the Vietnamese coffee with sweet milk and the "do-it-yourself" barbecued beef dipped in a pungent spicy sauce.

One of the more memorable Hanoi exploits involved renting a motorcycle and heading out into the chaotic yet controlled traffic. We quickly learned that red lights are just a suggestion, names of streets change without warning and size really does matter -- we deferentially gave way to the transport trucks, SUVs and cars lest we ended up on their windshields.

I also had the chance to meet up with an old university friend (Mike Coleman) who has been working for the UN in Hanoi for the past three years. It was great to catch up and find out what's been going on in each others' lives since Ryerson, plus he took us out to a few of the city's hotspots. Warning though - the nightlife shuts down pretty early in Hanoi with the streets virtually deserted by midnight.

A rock climber's paradise - November 7 to 19, 2007

2007-11-17T17:57:00.000-08:00

As I headed back to southern Thailand, I thought I was in for some serious relaxation and tan maintenance. Instead, in the 10 days I've been here, my knees, ankles, elbows and hands have been covered in bruises and scrapes. That's because the tiny postcard-esque isthmus of Railay is more than just a beach destination; its surrounding majestic limestone cliffs have attracted rock climbers from all over the world.

And my brother Shannon, an avid climber for many years, was determined to get me out on the rocks. He even bought me my own harness and climbing shoes so there was no turning back! Shannon's friend Jenny and her five year old son Aden also came equipped and ready to climb.

I've got to say, as I scrambled up 20 metre verticle cliffs, wrapping my fingers into tiny holes and cramming my toes onto narrow ledges, there is something slightly insane about this sport - especially when I glanced down at the tiny people on the ground and realized just how high up I was. Rock climbing is not for the faint of heart. Or for those scared of heights.

Here I am getting set for a climb - you can't tell, but I'm nervous. In the background, Shannon is ready to belay me so I won't crash to the ground if I slip off the rock.

Here's me "top-roping" a climb - if I fall (which I did quite often!), the rope will catch me so I will just sit in the air. It's much safer, especially for a beginner like me.

Here's Shannon leading a climb -- he is setting up the rope so we can top-rope it. It's more dangerous because there is less security -- although Jenny is belaying him from the ground, he will fall a much greater distance if he slips.

While upper body strength is key to a good rock climber, the scramble to the top of a climb is often a matter of flinging any available appendage onto sharp rocks, into crevices or onto outcrops in a desperate attempt to get yourself over a difficult patch. Hence all my bruises and cuts. But there is a deliciously satisfying feeling when, bathed in sweat and forearms throbbing, I haul myself up to the top and place my hand on the anchor -- and often the views are spectacular. Now that I have my own equipment, I will definitely check out the climbing gym in Toronto.

My time in Railay was not just sweat and bruises however. Daily massages, sunset drinks on the beach and afternoon lounging by the pool were required by all to smooth out the edges of our morning exertions.

My brother is coming! -- November 6,2 007

2007-11-06T03:44:00.000-08:00

I've been traveling on my own now for the past 10 months, and for the most part, I've really enjoyed the freedom and independence of making my own decisions and doing exactly what I want. But there are downsides of traveling alone. Practically, it's just that more expensive when you can't split costs of accommodation and transportation. But more than that, it can get lonely at times when for the fourth day in a row you're eating alone at a restaurant and glance over at a table of friends hooting it up together.

As a single traveler, I have met tons of other people, gone out for dinner and drinks, and even traveled together for weeks at a time. But most of the time, we're really just ships passing through the night; we pause for a bit of company, swap war stories and advice, and even optimistically exchange e-mail addresses. We then go our separate ways, knowing deep down that you'll likely never speak to each other again.

Well, all that is going to change in a few hours. I'm in Ao Nang in Southern Thailand, waiting eagerly and impatiently for my older brother Shannon to arrive. I'm thrilled to not only have a travel companion for the next month, but to be sharing this amazing experience with my beloved brother. I can't wait!

Hunting dragons in Komodo - October 30, 2007

2007-11-03T18:21:00.000-07:00

Before coming to Indonesia, I happened to catch an Animal Planet special on the Komodo dragon. Every detail about these ferocious lizards fascinated me -- their powerful jaws that can gulp down an adult deer in three bites, their poisonous saliva enabling them to attack and eat buffaloes (and sometimes humans!), the fact they only be found on three small islands off the coast of Flores. I knew that I wanted to see the dragons, not cooped up in some decrepit zoo, but in their natural habitat, where they are truly the masters of their domain.

Getting to Komodo Island from Lombok requires traveling by boat for three days past the volcanic island of Sumbawa. The journey itself was pleasurable -- given the dodgy reputation of some of the boat operators plying this route, I decided to fork over a bit of cash to go with Perama Tours, a company that has an excellent record for safety and professionalism. I was happy with my decision. The crew were attentive, the guide knowledgeable and best of all the food was delicious. I opted to sleep on the deck so was able to enjoy the spectacular sunrises and the rugged beauty of Sumbawa's coastline along the way.

As we neared our destination, the rich green jungles gave way to arid, savannah like terrain. It was hard to imagine that these desolate islands supported not only these gigantic carnivores, but a couple of tiny fishing villages, wild pigs and deer, buffalo and other tasty morsels for the dragons.

After a slightly scary safety lecture (example: women who are menstruating should let the rangers know so they can provide them with extra protection!), we disembarked and eyed the beach nervously -- the dragons are known to come to the beach to look for prey.

Our three park rangers then joined us, and with their big sticks, stationed themselves at the front, middle and back to begin our hunt for the dragons. We didn't have long to wait; two enormous dragons were lounging beneath the cafeteria hut, staring at us with the lazy confidence that comes with being the island's top predator. These creatures are simply awesome - at three metres long, their sheer bulk, enormous curved claws and sharp teeth were enough for us to realize that these were no ordinary lizards.

Then suddenly as we were walking back the park headquarters, we spotted a full grown dragon coming toward us along the path. To see these powerful creatures dozing around the cafeteria was intimidating enough, but to watch its leg muscles ripple, the toxic drool spilling out of its mouth and its tongue flicking as it sniffed for prey was just plain scary.

The rangers' voices suddenly sharpened as they told us to get off the path immediately. With adrenaline pumping, I and several other tourists scrambled into a small enclosure, which we realized too late didn't have an easy escape route should the dragon decide to go after us. As it got closer, the dragon seemed to turn toward us as if it had detected the delectable scent of a possible meal, but luckily for us, one of the rangers had stationed himself at the entrance of our enclosure and waved his stick at the dragon. It quickly decided we weren't worth the effort and slowly ambled past us. I don't think we were really in any danger as the rangers are well trained, but we exchanged relieved sighs and rolling of the eyes as we savoured our close encounter with this amazing beast.

Taking the plunge - October 23-27

2007-11-02T23:15:00.000-07:00

Back when I was communing with the sea turtles at Sipidan, I jealously imagined the kind of creatures the divers were seeing at 20 metres below the surface. I resolved then and there that I would take the plunge (literally!) and get my PADI Open Water license in Indonesia.

So after my week in Bali, I headed to Gili Air, one of three tiny tropical islands off the coast of Lombok and the site of several highly reputable dive centres. It turned out to be the perfect place to take my diving lessons - the waters were crystal clear, the white sand beaches pristine and with no cars or motorcycles on the island -- just the clip-clop of horse drawn carts -- the atmosphere was decidedly calm.

After some hemming and hawing, I decided to go with Dream Divers, a German-run outfit, mainly because they had several cute cats hanging out in the lounge area. Unlike Bali, few tourists make it to the Gili Islands outside of July and August so I was pleased to find out that it would only be me and the instructor that week.

After handing me a thick text book, my instructor had me get into the wetsuit and strap on the heavy scuba gear. We then waddled straight into the shallower part of the beach to begin learning the fundamentals of breathing from a tank of air, holding my nose and blowing to reduce the pressure in my ears, and inflating and deflating my "jacket" so I could float along the the ocean floor. My hardest challenge involved taking my mask off underwater, placing it back over my eyes and breathing through my nose to clear the water. For the first two days, I would panic as soon as the water hit my face and after several futile attempts would flap to the surface to gasp air.

My lessons also involved learning a great deal of scuba theory - the physics of the water pressure in your ears and sinuses, the geographical features that produce different kinds of waves and currents, the biological affects on your body as you dive to 20 or 30 metres. Complete with quizzes and a final exam, I spent my evenings studying the text book and working on mathematical calculations to figure how much nitrogen builds up in your body after a dive -- I think this was my first "homework" assignment in 10 years!

The highlight of my lessons, of course, was putting all the theory and newly learned skills to practice in a real deep water dive. On my third and fourth day, my instructor took me to four different spots around the Gili Islands -- and I'm happy to report that it was every bit as thrilling as I imagined! At first, I was a bit out of control as I kept bumping into my instructor or hitting the bottom of the ocean floor, but by my fourth dive, I was learning to control my buoyancy with greater confidence.

Best of all, the animals were even more colourful and weirdly shaped than I had ever seen along the surface. Lion fish, cuttle fish, stingrays, eels, sea turtles -- the waters around the Gili Islands were teeming with life. I wish I had an underwater camera so I could capture this beautiful new world.

Here are some photos of Gili Air -- whether you're a diver or not, it is a tranquil place to spend a few days.

These local boys starting hamming it up as soon as they saw my camera.

The full moon hovering over the horizon

A tale of two cities - October 17-20, 2007

2007-11-02T03:35:00.000-07:00

After a few days of chasing volcanoes, I decided to head to Bali to see for myself the mythical island that lures millions of tourists to its shores every year. As soon as I disembarked from the ferry at the western tip, it was clear that I had stepped into a vastly different culture than Java's. Stone sculptures of various Hindu and other unknown deities stood guard at all the intersections and bridges, while ornately carved doorways and palm thatched pavilions zoomed by my bus window.

During my time here, I visited two cities that symbolize the divergent worlds of Bali - one in which the Balinese religious and cultural traditions continue to thrive despite the crowds of foreign visitors and the other in which the Western gods of Starbucks and MacDonalds -- and dreadlocked surfer dudes -- rule the streets.

***

From the ferry, I headed straight to Ubud. Surrounded by terraced rice fields and lush river valleys, this laid back community is the artistic heart of Bali. The streets are lined with galleries showcasing the work of local painters, sculptors, woodcarvers, batik artisans, silversmiths and jewellers, as well as intricately carved temples and statues. Take a walk through the verdant countryside around the city and you'll find tiny villages with artists at work on their creations in one-room studios. Some of the merchandise in Ubud were of the usual souvenir mass-produced quality but there were many exquisitely crafted handmade, unique pieces on display - self-control was required to to resist the urge to buy one of everything!

As I walked the streets, I found myself just as fascinated by the subtle examples of Balinese creativity and beauty -- the fuchsia flowers tucked behind the ears of a stone god, the tiny palm leaf trays filled with rice, flowers, cookies and candies set out on the ground in front of stores and homes each morning to appease the demons. Sometimes, the artistry was a bit macabre, like this Rangda devouring a child.

One of the many highlights of my visit to Ubud were the nightly cultural shows - shadow puppets, fire walkers, traditional Balinese dances. They are quite touristy but well performed and entertaining. My favorite was the Kecak Fire and Trance show in which a circle of about 100 men chant and sway as an accompaniment to the dancers acting out scenes from the ancient Ramayana legend.

***

In my two days in the famed beach resort of Kuta, I felt like I was in a little Western enclave of fast food chains, designer stores (Ralph Lauren Polo franchises on every block!) and kitschy souvenir shops (giant wooden penis anyone?). Skimpily clad foreigners wandered the streets, blithely ignoring the modest sensibilities of the local people. At night, the streets became a pulsating mass of reggae, club music and drunken revelers.

There was nothing much to remind me that I was in Bali -- aside from the sticky heat and the odd palm tree, I would have a hard time knowing I was in Asia! I can only hope that the hordes of tourists here also make the effort to see Ubud and other parts of Bali so they get a taste of this fascinating culture.

The one moving "attraction" in Kuta is the memorial erected to honour the 200 victims of the 2002 Bali bombings, which exploded along Kuta's busiest street. All that is left of the Sari Club (the site where most of the victims died) is a fenced grassy plot of land, along which relatives have left heartbreaking messages and photos of their loved ones -- their pain and anguish are palpable. As I glanced through the names of the victims on the memorial, I thought of all the brothers and sisters, mothers and fathers, husbands and wives, friends and lovers, who on that fateful day were left behind to mourn the empty space in their families.

Volcanic beauty - October 15-16, 2007

2007-10-19T00:59:00.000-07:00

In recent years, Indonesia has had its share of natural disasters -- volcanic eruptions, floods, tsunamis, earthquakes. Splayed out along a major fault line, Indonesians have had to learn to live with their land's constant bubblings and grumblings, and far too often, the tragic aftermath of its violent explosions. In fact, just as I traveled through east Java, scientists put a nearby mountain on the highest possible alert for an imminent eruption and local authorities issued evacuation notices for residents on its slopes. Yet it's this very sub-terranean volatility that has produced some of the most haunting and breathtaking landscapes I've seen so far in my travels. And I was heading east to catch a glimpse of Java's beautiful fury.

***

My guidebook calls Mt. Bromo "nature's Borobudar." It certainly evoked a similar reaction as I walked up to the lip of the vast 10km Tenggera caldera and peered across the sand to the three volcanoes poised majestically in the centre. Two of the volcanoes looked relatively calm and benign, but an angry stream of white sulphur billowed out of Mt. Bromo's crater. This is an especially significant mountain for Hindus; every year, hundreds of locals come to the mountain to throw flowers, vegetables, chickens and even cows or buffalo into the crater to appease the mountain's spirits.

The next morning, I woke at 3 a.m. and trundled into the 4-wheel drive jeep, which then drove across the sandy desert and up Mt. Penanjakan -- the highest peak on the edge of the caldera to see the sunrise. As we snaked our way up the 2,770 metre mountain, I could see a long trail of lights following us as other tourists began making their way up to the lookout point. By the time I made my way to the viewing platform, there was already a crush of people but I somehow found myself in the front of the railing with a perfect view of the three volcanoes poking their way through clouds covering the caldera floor.

The wind was bitingly cold and the sand swirled into my eyes, but all the discomfort was forgotten as the sun slowly made its way up from the horizon to bathe the landscape in a purplish light. And as if to remind us weaklings of its dominance and power, the distant Mt. Semeru sent out several puffs of ash. It was an utterly magical and bewitching sight!

***

Shortly after descending Mt. Bromo, I decided to head about three hours east to visit the Ijen Plateau, the sight of yet another active volcano and the turquoise sulphuric lake of Kawan Ijen. I awoke at 5 a.m. and in the pink light of the sunrise, I sped along terraced paddy fields and coffee plantations on the back of a motorcycle (the best way to travel in my opinion).

Upon arriving at at the base of Mt. Ijen, it was a 1.5 hour grueling climb up the steep incline; I was passed several times by local men carrying on their shoulders two bamboo baskets filled with sulphur. When I finally reached the crater, I peaked over the edge -- the lake was more of an aquamarine colour but it was nonetheless spectacular and a little bit strangee. Out of the corner of the lake, furious plumes of sulphur jutted up through the air; the fumes were at times overwhelming.

And what I liked best was that unlike Mt. Bromo with its crowds of tourists, this was a relatively quiet spot. There were pockets of other people scattered around, but as I climbed around the ridge of the crater to see the expansive lake against the backdrop of the distant moutains, I was alone.

Java's Buddhist and Hindu icons - October 9, 2007

2007-10-17T03:48:00.000-07:00

Indonesia is often referred to as the world's most populous Muslim nation, but just outside Yogyakarta in central Java, two of the country's most stunning temples -- Borobodur and Prambanan -- point to its illustrious Buddhist and Hindu past. Considered among the world's greatest religious monuments, it is no surprise they are also Indonesia's most popular tourist attractions.

My first stop was the Buddhist temple of Borobodur. As I walked through the parking lot and through the landscaped grounds, I could feel my anticipation grow as I peered through the trees that temporarily obscured the temple. Then, I turned a corner, and there it was -- looming out of the surrounding rice fields and palms was nine stories of rectangular and circular terraces, an enormous structure that was once the spiritual centre of Buddhism in Java in the 8th century AD.

Built from 2 million block lava stones, the sheer size was impressive enough. But as I got closer, I could see thousands of exquisitely carved bas-reliefs and statues -- elephants and lions, musicians and dancers, kings and peasants -- along the walls as well as hundreds of Buddha images (with their heads missing) sitting in latticed stupas. I could only imagine the number of workers and the hours of labour required to create this masterpiece!

I then headed off to the other side of Yogyakarta to visit the Hindu temple of Prambanan. I think my mouth gaped a bit as as I walked up to the eight shrines dedicated to the three Hindu gods - Vishnu, Shiva and Brahma.

Standing 50 metres high and covered in beautifully carved balustrades and sculptures, this complex is quite simply breathtaking. Unfortunately, in May 2006, an earthquake measuring 6.3 on the Richter scale almost completely destroyed Prambanan and restoration experts are still repairing the damage. We were able to walk around the outside perimeter but we were not allowed to enter the shrines; I could still see pieces of stone teetering at the tops of the shrines so it was still quite dangerous.

Needless to say, I was a bit disappointed, but a few days later, I returned to Prambanan to watch the famous Ramayana ballet at an open-air theatre. With the towers lit in the background, it was the perfect setting to watch 200 dancers in beautiful costumes re-enact the scenes of this ancient Hindu legend.

Finding the hidden gem in Jakarta - October 6-7, 2007

2007-10-12T22:37:00.000-07:00

I have to admit that my first impressions of Jarkata weren't great. As I drive in from the airport, my view of the city is blurred by a thick layer of smog, and after the beauty and calm of Borneo, the relentless noise from honking motos and cars grates on me. Still limping from my hike up Mt. Kinabalu, I decide to spend my first evening partaking in the decadent services of my mid-range hotel which includes ordering room service, getting a one-hour in-room massage and catching up on my CSI episodes on the satellite TV!

The next day, I decide to venture out of the safe enclave of my hotel to see what this city of 8.75 million people offers. I take in a small national museum housing Javanese sculptures, batiks, ceramics and pottery and a somewhat ugly National Monument erected by Indonesian dictator Soekarno to mark the country's independence from the Dutch in 1949. It's amusing to browse through the collection of historical dioramas at the base of the monument, which depicts in great detail the glorious battles of Indonesian resistance against its colonial masters, yet makes no mention of Soekarno or Soeharto, the Indonesian dictators who ruled the country through much of the 20th century.

Here's a smoggy view of Jarkata's main mosque

Sightseeing can be a bit frustrating for pedestrians like me with haphazard sidewalks and non-existent crosswalks and traffic lights. And after my one-day of sightseeing, my impression of Jarkata remained somewhat negative; a typically Asian city - huge, polluted and busy -- but without the French colonial charm of Phnom Penh, the vibrant diversity of KL or the spectular temples of Bangkok.

Then, on my final night, I wandered a few blocks down from my hotel to see if I could find a cheap place to eat. I headed toward a street that during the day, was quiet but had a few vendors hawking their noodle soups from carts. By night, I was surprised to see it transformed into a lively night market with makeshift restaurants setting themselves up along the sidewalks and wandering minstrels serenading hapless diners for a few hundred rupiah. As I sat there chowing down my nasi goreng ayam (chicken fried rice) and watching the vibrant cacophony of families, courting couples and young children laughing and flitting in and out of stalls, I was glad to have gotten this glimpse of Jakarta, a tiny gem among the steel and concrete.

Ascending Borneo's crowning glory - October 4-5, 2007

2007-10-07T02:51:00.000-07:00

It was a beautiful, clear day as I arrived at the base of Mt. Kinabalu and the view of its craggy limestone peaks with just a few puffs of white clouds clinging to its sides was spectacular. But instead of basking joyfully in the beauty of this 4,095 metre mountain, I felt a great trepidation and dread in the pit of my stomach. Apparently, Mt. Kinabulu is one of the easiest mountains to climb, but at that very moment, it may as well have been Mt. Everest!

It's also a bit of a rite of passage for tourists coming to Borneo -- every year, people of all shapes, sizes and ages attempt to climb the 8.75 kilometre path to the top so I knew in my heart that I couldn't leave without giving it a try as well. Luckily, I was joined by my KL friend Sugee and her brother Sujay so I knew at least I could commiserate with them over what I knew would be a painful journey.

We set off by 10 a.m. and within the first two kms, we were bathed in sweat. By the 4th km and after about a zillion stairs, I could feel the telltale twinge in my legs. Between the 5th and 6th km, we began to stop more frequently - supposedly to enjoy the view but really to get our breathing back to normal. By 5 p.m., we reached the 6th km marker and our destination for the night -- Laban Rata Resthouse would be where we would stop for the night, eat some dinner and rest our weary legs. By now, the air had becoming noticeably harder to breath, and a pleasant cold mist drifted around us.

During dinner, the mist suddenly cleared and we were treated to this beautiful sunset - apparently, at this time of year, the mountain is often bathed in clouds; the Laban Rata staff told us that it had been three weeks since they had seen a sunset like this. There was a clattering of utensils and scraping of chairs as we all rushed outside to take photos.

Then it was up to our rooms for a short nap, and we were up by 12:30 a.m. to begin the second part of the climb and to reach the summit for sunrise. We had only 2.75 kms to go but other travellers had told me this was the hardest part of the journey. They were right - it was absolutely gruelling work scrabbling over sheer rock using ropes to haul you over some scary inclines. Breathing became quite difficult and I had to stop every 100 metres or so.

Unfortunately, about 200 metres into the climb, Sugee came down with altitude sickness and had to go back. Then, Sujay began having breathing problems and for safety reasons, decided to return as well. So for most of my struggles up the last 2 kms, I was on my own. There is no adequate way of describing that feeling of sitting on the rocky face in the dark by myself, the wind whipping around me and trying to conjure up whatever energy was left in my body to get to the summit.

The last 90 metres was sheer hell - the peak was just in front of me but I was completely drained. By this time, two other hikers caught up with me and began encouraging me to keep going. By this time, I could barely feel my arms and as I pulled myself up the last 10 metres, I had thoughts of letting go of the rope out of sheer exhaustion but I finally hauled myself over the lip and flopped down right on the summit. A round of high-fives were exchanged with the 6 or so who were already there and we sat in the bitter cold to wait for the sun to peak over the ridge.

If I look stunned in this photo, it's because I was! The jagged peaks surrounding the summit were especially evocative in the cold light of the sunrise, but I was almost too exhausted to enjoy it...

The journey down the mountain was equally hard - going down hundreds (thousands?) of stairs does a number on your knees, calves and quads and by the last kilometer, my ankles began to waver with each step. Four days later, and I am still having difficulty walking down stairs! But despite the pain, I'm glad that I climbed Mt. Kinabalu and that I made it to the summit.

A turtle moment - September 30, 2007

2007-10-07T01:09:00.000-07:00

Off the eastern coast of Borneo lies the tiny island of Sipadan. Measuring no more than 12 hectares, this unassuming looking island hides its treasures below the surface of the water. Located in one of the world's richest marine habitats, Sipadan forms the pinnacle of an ancient volcano that rises 600 metres from the ocean bed. The sheer underwater cliffs and the diversity of rare fish, sharks, manta rays and turtles have resulted in Sipadan becoming one of the top diving destinations in the world. There's even an underwater turtle graveyard, a vast cavern 20 metres under the sea where you can see the skeletal remains of turtles who lost their way at night and drowned!

Well, I don't have my diving license, but I decided to head there any way to see if I could catch a glimpse of these elusive creatures as a snorkeller. Snorkelling is one of my all-time favourite activities; surrounded by an eerie silence and gliding through a school of iridescence and vivid colours, I get to play for a few hours in a breathtakingly beautiful, alien world that seems to tolerate (or ignore) me as I paddle by. I've gone on many snorkelling trips over the years, and the life under the sea never fails to amaze and surprise me.

But now that I've snorkelled at Sipadan, the stakes have been raised! Along with the huge number of new and exotic fish species, I was absolutely thrilled to see a baby shark bob along the edge of the cliff wall. Minutes later, a large greenback sea turtle measuring two metres across floated by me.

I then realized that I was surrounded by turtles -- looming suddenly out of the dark water, these graceful animals floated nonchalantly around me, some passing underneath me, others veering off to my right or left. I looked in front of me and saw the knobby head of a turtle heading straight for me. As he turned at the last minute, I looked deep into his shining black eyes. What was he thinking? I like to imagine that he deliberately came up to me to check me out, and our "moment" was him accepting me into his world. Okay maybe not, but I still felt honoured and privileged to be in his presence.

Unfortunately, I don't have an underwater camera so I was not able to capture these amazing creatures. Here's a photo of our "crew" after a full day of snorkelling and diving, and the gorgeous sunset as we returned to the mainland.

A glimpse of Borneo's creatures -- September 26-28, 2007

2007-10-05T03:48:00.000-07:00

As much as I loved seeing the orangutans at the Sepilok Rehabilitation Centre, there is nothing like seeing a wild orangutan in the jungle. Unfortunately, much of Borneo's wilderness is quickly falling prey to vast palm plantations so many of its treasured animals -- such as the orangutans, rhino and elephants -- are endangered. One area that continues to house a wide variety of wildlife is the Kinabatagan River and consequently, has become a popular tourist destination.

With the exception of the cheeky macaques who often sneak up on distracted visitors to steal food right from their hands, the animals of Borneo are justifiably wary of humans and can be difficult to see with untrained eyes. That's why I decided to put myself in the hands of the expert guides at Uncle Tan's, a rustic camping outfit on the Kinabatagan River. The facilities were basic (bucket showers, thin mattresses with mosquito nets) but the staff were professional, friendly and evidently well trained to spot Borneo's shy wildlife.

During my stay at Uncle Tan's, I embarked on several treks through the jungle as well as river safaris, including one memorable night ride in an open skiff during a torrential rain storm. This photo shows the gathering clouds just before it hit.

In some cases, the wildlife came right into the camp so we got to see bearded pigs, civet cats and monitor lizards up close and personal. I was disappointed that the area's elephants were 50 miles downriver from Uncle Tan's, but I more than thrilled to see crocodiles, proboscis monkeys, silvered langurs, otters, hornbills, Brahminy kites and, on our last day, a wild orangutan high up in the trees near the camp.

One of the most popular activities was the night trek into the jungle to view nocturnal animals. Along with rare frogs, birds and a newly discovered tarantula species, we met up with this enormous scorpion. According to our guide, it is safe to allow it to walk onto your hand but we were warned not to grab it from above as the venom is sprayed from its back. Needless to say, I was still a bit wary!

While the organized activities were great, my favourite moments at Uncle Tan's was during our free time where we were able to walk along the jungle paths on our own. During these solitary jaunts, I could feel the jungle pulse with life around me - birds chirping away in exotic song, cicadas and crickets calling out to each other, the grunts of hidden primates calling out warnings of my presence. I could almost feel hundreds of little (or big) eyes peering at me from behind the dense jungle walls.

Borneo's jungle kings -- September 25, 2007

2007-09-29T01:39:00.000-07:00

Location: Sepilok Orangutan Rehabilitation Center, Eastern Borneo - the world's largest rescue center for orphaned orangutans.

Time: 9:45 a.m., 15 minutes before the daily morning feeding

Scene: About 50 tourists armed with cameras and politely jostling each other for prime position along the railing to see this iconic primate of Borneo. We peer eagerly into the trees for a glimpse of the telltale ginger fur amongst the greenery.

All of a sudden, a large male orangutan lopes along the edge of the railing toward the feeding deck. We all rear back in delighted surprise and the sound of clicking digital cameras ensues. Elbows become a little bit sharper as we rush in to get the perfect "National Geographic" shot.

Then the metal cables running up to the feeding deck begin to sway wildly, and soon, about 10 orangutans of all shapes, sizes and facial features swing into view. These particular primates are slowly being weaned off the hands-on feeding and emotional attachment to humans that characterize their early years at the center in the hopes they can be eventually released back into the wild. These are the "in-between" orangutans who now live in the jungle behind the center but still need to come back for the additional fruit, milk and multi-vitamins.

These beautiful and human-like creatures (they share 96.4% of our DNA) used to rule the jungle's tree tops across Southeast Asia and into southern China, but are now relegated to Borneo and Sumatra. Numbered at 50,000 in Borneo, orangutans are highly endangered as more and more of their natural habitat is cleared for palm oil plantations. While it is thrilling to see the orangutans up close at the Sepilok Rehabilitation Center, it is sad that such a facility is even needed here in Borneo.

On the doorstep of wild Borneo - September 21, 2007

2007-09-21T02:07:00.000-07:00

After weeks of anticipation, I've left the confines of mainland Malaysia and have landed in Kota Kinabalu, the capital city of Malaysia's eastern-most state on the island of Borneo. My Malaysian friend assures me that Borneo will be a vastly different and a more rewarding experience than the peninsula. I believe her, but right now, I'm surrounded by a bustling, noisy city that doesn't seem that different from any other Malaysian city.

However, the weeks ahead look promising - visiting the largest orangutan rehabilitation centre in the world, heading out on a three day journey on the Kinabatangan River to look for bearded pigs, crocs and elephants, killing myself on a two day hike up Mount Kinabalu.... I will keep you posted!

A historic and personal moment - September 20, 2007

2007-09-20T00:10:00.000-07:00

In recent days, news that former Khmer Rouge leader Nuon Chea has been arrested and charged with war crimes and crimes against humanity has made headlines around the world. For me, it brought me back to the day I visited Toul Sleng, the notorious S-21 prison in Phnom Penh. As I gazed at the photos of children who were imprisoned and tortured there, I remember the visceral anger and despair that washed over me -- Pol Pot was already dead and his comrades were in their 80s and not far behind. Would the perpetrators never have to answer for these unspeakable atrocities?

Now, I am elated and relieved. A few weeks ago, the Cambodian tribunal arrested Duch, the Toul Sleng commandant, and now with Nuon Chea they've got Pol Pot's second-in-command. Prosecutors have submitted the undisclosed identities of three other leaders who will soon be charged. Finally, after 30 long years, those responsible for murdering almost 2 million Cambodians will be brought to justice.

I am also happy for Youk Chhang, the Director of the Documentation Center of Cambodia, who I had the fortune to meet when I was in Phnom Penh. For the past decade, he has been doggedly compiling and recording information about the Khmer Rouge, much of which will be used as evidence in this tribunal. Mr. Youk was very friendly and helpful, and I admired his passion and perseverance, even in the face of unrelenting disagreements between the UN and the Cambodian government on how the tribunal should be formed and run. He played a huge role in gathering the information for the arrest warrants; I can only imagine how he must be feeling at this historic moment.

When I was in Phnom Penh, I also had a conversation with a young Cambodian about how he felt about the tribunal. At that time, it was still mired in procedural disagreements; he argued that the money would be better spent on building roads or fixing the education system. Our discussion was fairly academic - i.e., do tribunals such as these help heal the wounds of war torn countries; is the West trying to impose its judicial values on a culture that would rather move on and forget?

Now, as I pore over the details of Nuon Chea's arrest, my reaction is purely emotional as I realize how much I wanted this day to come. I'm not looking for blood or revenge or lengthy jail sentences. I don't even care if they confess or show their remorse (Nuon Chea has already claimed that he had no part or knowledge in the mass executions). I just want the leaders of the Khmer Rouge to stand up in a court of law and be forced to defend what they did to the people of Cambodia, including my own family, during their evil regime.

A quiet paradise - September 2-7, 2007

2007-09-08T03:23:00.000-07:00

Sometime in early August, I was trudging up a steep Lao mountain with my heavy backpack digging into my shoulder, when it suddenly occurred to me that I hadn't seen the ocean in over four months. Under a veil of sweat and aching muscles, the vision of me relaxing on a tropical white sand beach with aqua crystal clear water firmly planted itself in my brain, and I knew I needed to include some serious beach time with my next destination.

Funny enough, I spent my first weeks in Malaysia surrounded by the chaos of bustling cities but soon enough, I found myself on a boat speeding toward Pulau Tioman, the setting of the 1958 Hollywood film South Pacific and once voted as one of the world's most beautiful islands by Time magazine. Torrential rain pelted the awning of our boat, striking fear in all us sun-seeking tourists on board about the week ahead.

We needn't have worried; once we arrived at the beach, the rain melted away, leaving behind a scorching sun that would remain for the entire time I was on the island. Most of the beaches on the western side of the island have become quite busy since the island's Hollywood debut so I decided to head to Juara, the only eastern beach site whose sole connection to the overcrowded west was via a horrible mountain road.

I couldn't have been happier with the choice; nestled along a sweeping bay, the smattering of humble chalets were nicely spaced and a calm pervaded the pretty white sand beach.

Best of all, tourists have yet to flood the place with their Western demands of internet, laundry service and raucous beach parties so it remains a quiet fishing village with friendly locals that stop to guide new arrivals to their guesthouse (like me!)

This was a week about doing nothing - reading on my veranda, staring out at the crashing waves and trotting over to the local beach cafe to have dinner with my new found Dutch friends. Here's the view from my chalet...

On one memorable day, we went on an all day snorkelling trip where we were treated to an underwater explosion of greens, neon blues, oranges and purple floating around us. We stopped at this pretty beach on the way back just to lounge around.

A touch of class in Singapore - August 26-29, 2007

2007-08-31T21:09:00.000-07:00

For such a tiny place, Singapore is a city of superlatives -- it has the world's busiest port, its airport recently was ranked by world travelers as the second best airport (just losing out to Hong Kong, their Asian rival), its beautiful zoo rakes in tourism awards every year (including the coveted 5 Stars Happy Toilet Awards for cleanliness, functionality and creativity!). It's also the cleanest, safest and most expensive city I have visited yet and in my opinion far from being dull or sterile. I spent three jam-packed days wandering through excellent museums, sipping cocktails at the historic Raffles Hotel and sampling yummy cheap street food.

As a trundled through the skyscrapers and 19th century British colonial buildings I found myself comparing Singapore not with other Asian cities but with Toronto. Just how does Toronto stack up?

Food - Singapore's street food is delicious and cheap, specializing in Indian, Chinese and Malay, and although I didn't partake, I'm sure its high-end restaurants are world-class. But Toronto wins points for its sheer diversity -- Jamaican jerk chicken, Greek souvlaki, Mexican mole, etc. I'm waiting for the day that Toronto starts serving this stuff on the street!

Zoos - I like Toronto's zoo, but the Singapore Zoo is hands down one of the best zoos I have ever visited. Beautifully landscaped, enclosures designed to look like the animals' natural environment, but what makes Singapore's stand out is the proximity of the animals with the spectators. At one point, I wandered into a biodome, looked up and two feet above my head hung a sloth, starting down on me and slowly chewing on leaves. In another area, the gibbons swung freely in the trees along a path, with no fences or barriers. And at night, you can visit the Night Safari, where you can walk along paths lit by soft lights to visit nocturnal animals at their most liveliest.

Museums - Singapore's museums are interesting, diverse and engaging - with an emphasis on using creepy wax dummies to recreate moments in history or to highlight the cultures of Singapore. In one memorable museum in Chinatown, the curators have constructed a life sized 19th century Chinese shophouse, which you can wander through and peak into the tiny rooms that housed dozens of poor immigrants. You really get a sense of just how horrible the living condition were for the earliest settlers, and you can't help but admire what they managed to build in today's sparkling city. By contrast, I find Toronto's museums to be static, a bit sterile with items encased behind glass. It would be hard for a visitor to get a taste of Toronto through our museums.

People - the people of Singapore are courteous, decent and exceedingly helpful. As a traveler, I was helped numerous times by the friendly locals whether it was getting change from an elderly couple when I boarded a bus with only a $10 bill, or when I misplaced my camera (yikes) at a museum and had the manager and all of his staff scurrying around to look for it (I got it back, phew). I'm trying to think about how helpful Torontonians would be toward a lost tourist? I'm actually not sure...

Freedom - no contest, Singapore is one of the most regulated, restricted places with severe penalties for littering, spitting etc. Drug dealing receives an automatic death penalty, possession garners lengthy prison terms and homosexuality is outlawed. Freedom of the press, freedom of expression - these do not exist in Singapore. You really have to appreciate Toronto's openness and tolerance!

Here are some of my favourite photos of Singapore:

A blustery view of Singapore's busy harbour

A Buddhist temple in Chinatown

The Singpore skyline

White tigers going for a swim at the zoo

A historical snapshot in Melaka -- August 21-23, 2007

2007-08-24T20:18:00.000-07:00

After almost a week in KL, I decided to head down to Melaka, a port city seeped in Malaysian and colonial history. Located halfway between China and India and close to the spice islands of Indonesia, Melaka became the trading hub for merchants from Europe, India and China in the 14th century. It's also considered the birthplace of Islam in Southeast Asia -- Indian merchants brought the religion to the Melaccan rulers, who in turn helped to spread it to Indonesia. The colonial aspirations soon washed up on the shores, with the Portuguese, Dutch and British each taking turns of controlling the city over 300 years.

So it's not surprising that the city is a hodge-podge of architecture with a smidge of everything thrown into the pot. This is a Dutch influenced building.

Wandering through the small city core is the highlight of any trip to Melaka, especially Chinatown where the narrow streets are lined with shophouses with Dutch, Chinese and British flourishes like plasterwork, intricate tiles and Tudor style roofs. It is pretty touristy with plenty of expensive antique stores and Western style cafes, but wander off from the main streets, and you'll be rewarded by glimpses into tiny shops that still make rubber stamps, elderly Chinese men tottering along on their bicycles and families huddled over benches slurping up noodles.

My favourite thing about Melaka, however, is the food! In addition to the usual Chinese, Indian and Malay flavours, the intermarriage of Chinese traders and Malay women has given birth to Nonya cuisine, a succulent fusion of spicy creamy coconut sauces, tamarind, noodles, fish and chicken - yummy!

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Just an added footnote about the "seamless diversity" of KL -- a tourist's first impression can sometimes miss the subtleties. I've been lucky enough to hang out with my friend Sugee in KL, who has been eager to show me all the hidden hotspots of this fun city. She and her friends have also given me more insight on the tensions that do exist between the cultures in Malaysia. Sugee, who is Indian, has many Malay and Chinese friends, but there are definitely issues. Malays resent the Chinese, who overall hold the most wealth in Malaysia, own the businesses and have higher standards of living. In an effort to boost the economic fortunes of Malays, the government has a policy that favours Malay companies for contracts, lowers taxes for Malays, provides different university entrance exams for Malys etc. These practices are deeply resented by the Chinese and Indian populations. But Sugee agrees that there is a high degree of tolerance among the people for differences in religion, cultures etc. And in all of the museums and glossy tourist brochures, the government is very careful to showcase all three cultures as being part of Malaysia.

The wildlife of KL - August 19 , 2007

2007-08-20T01:24:00.000-07:00

This weekend, I traveled 15 kilometres north of KL to the Batu caves, three enormous caverns that have become a place of worship after Hindu shrines were placed in the main cave. Every February, 1.5 million Hindus walk from the middle of KL to the Caves as part of the Thaipusam procession, but at all other times of the year, tourists of all backgrounds flock to the caves, mainly to watch the monkeys scramble up the limestone walls and snatch food from unsuspecting onlookers.

Right in the centre of KL is a one of the world's largest covered bird park, housing 150 different species.

KL's beautiful diversity -- August 16-18, 2007

2007-08-17T04:32:00.000-07:00

After spending five months in two of Asia's poorest countries (Laos and Cambodia), touching down in Kuala Lumpur was a bit of a shock. Multi-lane highways in pristine condition, sparkling office buildings, high rise condos, shopping complexes, Macdonalds and Starbucks, English billboards -- if it weren't for the tropical vegetation lining the roads, we could have been in Toronto. They even have a freestanding structure (the KL Tower at 461 metres) that kind of looks like the CN Tower!

But this feeling of familiarity disappeared as soon as I got out of my taxi and threaded my way through the Chinatown night market to find my hotel. The sights, sounds and smells pulsated around me: Muslim women covered head to toe in black picking through piles of T-shirts, Indian street hawkers shouting out to passersby ("Miss, miss, do you want a Rolex -- it's a REAL COPY!"), the pungent aroma of barbecued duck and roasted chestnuts. I was a bit disoriented after a full day of travel and was sweating profusely by this time, but I knew within minutes that I would like this city.

After a few days of wandering through the city, I can safely say that KL is one of my favourite cities. The multitude of religions and cultures have given this city a beautiful mixture of architecture and religious monuments, cheap delicious street food and vibrant night markets and neighbourhoods. These colourful shophouses can be found everywhere in Chinatown, and this glittering mosque stands at the apex of where KL was founded in 1857 by a band of tin prospectors.

Complementing the cultural attractions is a highly efficient, prosperous city with an excellent subway and monorail system, gleaming national monuments and five star hotels. But unlike some concrete nightmares, KL's urban planners have had the foresight to incorporate beautiful old trees, patches of jungle and numerous parks in amongst all the skyscrapers so weary tourists like me can pause to rest their aching feet. Here's me soaking my tired feet in the park at the base of the famous Petronas Towers.

The best way to enjoy a city like KL is to throw away your map and simply lose yourself -- you'll come across a hidden Hindu temple, a classical British colonial building, a side street filled with vendors selling cheap curry. KL's beauty is in its seamless diversity.

Images of Laos - August 2007

2007-08-13T20:44:00.000-07:00

Here are some of my favorite images of Laos, a country whose desolate and rugged beauty has firmly grabbed me by the heart.

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On an incredibly twisty eight hour drive from Vang Vieng to Luang Prabang. My eyes were glued to the window the entire time watching the mountains whizz by.

On a kayaking trip in Luang Prabang, we stopped at this meadow for lunch. A group of young girls were busy catching fish, washing clothes and generally horsing around, but this little girl paused to pose for this photo.

Kwang Si Waterfalls near Luang Prabang - and yes, the water really is this turquoise!

In Viengxai, I spent the afternoon in one of these little bungalows with some fellow backpackers from Austria, England and Spain, playing Uno and drinking BeerLao.

The morning view from my veranda in Nong Kiaw. By afternoon, the sun usually burned away the mist.

A view onto the rice fields from inside a cave near Nong Kiaw. Because it's the rainy season, the fields all over Lao were this brilliant green colour.

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But now, it's time to leave Laos so tomorrow (August 15), I fly to Kuala Lumpur to continue my adventure in Malaysia. I'm excited about the "new-ness" of it all - the mix of Malay, Indian and Chinese culture, the predominance of a different religion (Islam), and the footprints left behind by the once mighty English colonial empire. But most of all, Kuala Lumpur (or KL as the locals call it) has always been the city of my childhood dreams - back then, it seemed so utterly exotic, as far from my little hometown of Courtenay as you could possibly get. And now, in a little more than 24 hours, I will finally be there! Woohoo!

The heart of the Pathet Lao - July 30, 2007

2007-08-04T04:31:00.001-07:00

The conflict in Laos is often referred to as the "Secret War," largely because the U.S. involvement was such a highly classified operation throughout its duration from 1964 to 1973. But it could also easily be called the "forgotten war." There are no iconic photographs of children escaping napalm attacks or Hollywood directors excoriating their guilt on celluloid. Even in Cambodia, the atrocities of the Khmer Rouge have been well documented -- walk into any bookstore or souvenir shop, and you'll see shelves of firsthand survivor accounts and historians contemplating the evil of Pol Pot. In Laos, I would be hard pressed to find books of any kind that talked about the Lao experience during their war.

Yet, the recent history of Laos is fascinating in its own right -- a battleground of ideologies, a small pawn within a larger worldwide struggle between superpowers, the sheer firepower unleashed on the Lao people. I decided to go to the heart of the story by traveling to Viengxai near the Vietnam border and the site of hundreds of caves that were home to the revolutionary forces of the Communist Pathet Lao during the war.

As the U.S. carpet-bombing intensified over eastern Laos, the Pathet Lao moved into the caves, which were almost impossible to reach from the air. With up to 20,000 people living in the caves, an underground community sprung up -- school, a hospital staffed by Cuban doctors, market, print shop for publishing Communist propaganda. Here is the concert hall in which they held rallies, plays and other forms of entertainment -- often from Vietnam, Cuba and China in a show of Communist solidarity -- to boost morale.

The caves were also the base from which the Pathet Lao conducted the war and planned the future of Communist Lao - the top military officials all had their homes in the caves, including Kaysone, Lao's venerated hero and leader. As we walked through the Politburo meeting room, I tried to imagine the passionate debates and intense strategizing that took place here almost 40 years ago.

Finally, we climbed up to the artillery cave which provided a sweeping view of the skyline over the western mountains. Men with anti-aircraft missiles were positioned in the caves, but it was also the site from which they could signal the first alarm - a loud siren -- of incoming airplanes, sending the 20,000 inhabitants scrambling into the caves. I wonder what nine years of constant aerial bombardment and the accompanying panic and fear does to your psyche? Now, the view from the artillery cave is an idyllic green meadow, quiet with water buffalo and cows grazing.

Secrets on the Plain of Jars -- July 26, 2007

2007-07-30T00:04:00.000-07:00

After relaxing in the languid beauty of Luang Prabang for a week, it was time to head east into the heart of Xieng Khuang Province, home of one of Laos' strangest archeological mysteries - the Plain of Jars. As we bumped along in the rickety bus (with hard seats!), the limestone karst mountains gave way to rolling green hills, until we finally pulled up in Phonsavan. The town itself was fairly ugly - just a dusty, criss-cross of streets lined with dungy shops, a handful of Chinese restaurants blasting karoke into the streets and a few bustling markets.

I met up with a Dutch woman and Spanish guy, and we decided to join a tour group to visit the Plain of Jars, which is actually 400 different meadows and hills littered with thousands of large stone containers. Everything about the jars is a mystery. Archeologists believe they may be about 2,000 years old, but without any organic remains, they have not been able to determine an exact date. Nearby quarries have been found with partially formed jars, but they still have no idea who made them and how.

But the biggest unanswered question of all is their purpose. One theory is that the locations of the jars mark a caravan route to northern India, and the jars were used to collect rainwater that could be boiled into drinking water for the caravan travelers. Another local tongue-in-cheek theory is that the jars were used to make "lao-lao" the famous Lao whisky. The most popular theory is that they were funerary urns, in which cremated bodies were placed, along with beads, iron tools and other personal artifacts. Here, I'm standing in front of the largest jar (six tonnes) so perhaps this one housed an important or wealthy person.

Surrounding the jars is a quiet pastoral landscape with rice fields, rolling hills and small farms. Cows wandered through the Plain of Jars munching on the abundant vegetation poking through the stone vessels. It's hard to imagine that this was also one of the most heavily bombed areas during the Indochinese war.

At the height of the conflict (1964 to 1973), it's been estimated that the U.S. dropped an average of one planeload of bombs every eight minutes, 24 hours a day, for nine years. The destructive evidence was everywhere -- huge bomb craters adorned many of the sites we visited, throughout the towns and villages, empty bomb shells are used as planters, fences and other regular household items. UXO (unexploded ordinance) continue to pose a deadly threat around the Plain of Jars and surrounding countryside; vivid red and white markers set up by a landmine/UXO clearing NGO provided a clear deterrent for us wanderng tourists.

The presence of the UXOs has inhibited the archeologists' efforts, but as the land clearing continues over the next few years, there is hope that eventually, the secrets of the Plain of Jars will be revealed.

The soul of Luang Prabang - July 21, 2007

2007-07-20T22:12:00.000-07:00

In Laos, there is a well trodden tourist trail that starts in Vientiene, pauses in Vang Vieng and then winds itself through spectacular mountainous terrain to the ancient royal city of Luang Prabang. At 700 metres above sea level, the surrounding mountains and rivers provide a peacefulness to this languid spot despite the huge numbers of tourists that arrive here every day. Unlike Vang Vieng, the city has managed to maintain a dignified front -- perhaps the dozens of wats and large numbers of monks walking the streets compel visitors to tread carefully and respectfully so as not to disturb the city's ancient Buddhist traditions.

Declared a UNESCO World Heritage site in 1995, Luang Prabang's main attraction is its architecture. Up until 1975, this was the home of Lao's royal family, which over hundreds of years commissioned the construction of 66 wats throughout the city. The style is distinctive to Luang Prabang - sweeping five tiered gabled roofs, gold plated verandas with intricate carvings of Buddhist folklore, colourful glass mosaics depicting everyday village life. After a particularly devastating attack from a Chinese tribe in the 19th century, the royal family decided to accept protection from the French, which began constructing brick and stucco buildings amongst the traditional Lao shophouses.

Becoming a World Heritage site has turned what was once one of the poorest cities in Laos into a prosperous tourist hub and provided much needed UN restoration funds and an international team of experts to preserve its architectual legacy. Luang Prabang is the kind of city where you enjoy the simple pleasures of wandering the streets and "discovering" the beautiful wats tucked between stately colonial villas.

What I like most about Luang Prabang, however, is the resilience of the Lao culture in the face of increasing numbers of travellers. There is no doubt that tourism has had an enormous impact on the city, and judging by the amount of guesthouses, Western-style restaurants and internet cafes, many of its residents have come to depend on foreigners for their livelihood. Yet, the Lao people seem to have taken this influx of Westerners in stride and have continued to maintain the same Buddhist traditions that have been practiced for hundreds of years. You can see it in some of the quieter moments, like the elderly woman who suddenly bows her head and clasps her hands together as a sign of respect as three monks pass by her doorway. Or the gentle hum of chanting that spill over the wat walls into the streets.

One Saturday afternoon, we were treated to a more colourful example as hundreds of monks in their brilliant orange robes marched down the busiest street as part of a funeral procession for a revered monk. The restaurants and cafes shut down for several hours and Laotions, many of whom travelled from all over the country, lined the streets to pay their respect to one of their greatest spiritual leaders. It was a touching example of just how important Buddhism continues to be in the everyday lives of the local people.

It was also heartening to see that unlike some popular destinations in Southern Thailand where tourism has completely submerged the local culture, Luang Prabang has so far been able to open its doors and share its beauty with the world without losing its soul.

Mixed feelings on Vang Vieng - July 16, 2007

2007-07-17T05:05:00.000-07:00

There's nothing subtle about Vang Vieng. Surrounded by spectacular limestone karst peaks and nestled alongside the Nam Song river, this small town has capitalized on its natural beauty to become a backpacker mecca. On my first afternoon I wandered around the town to soak up the stunning scenery and found myself catching my breath a few times as I watched the sun cast a warm light on mountains that seemed close enough to touch.

Not surprisingly, the activities are the highlight of this picturesque town. Tubing down the river seems to be the rite of passage for most travellers here, and several bars have been set up along the shoreline for people to stop and have a beer or two (or several, judging by the level of inebriation). Caving, rock climbing and rafting are all popular here; aiming for a bit of exercise, I chose to go on a kayaking / caving expedition with four other travellers.

First stop was Tham Nam, a 500 metre cave with a tributary of the Nam Song river flowing through. We flopped onto innertubes and using fixed ropes and paddling, we pulled ourselves along the tunnel for about 40 minutes. The cave itself was impressive with stalactites and interesting rock formations along the walls, but it was the sensation of penetrating the unknown darkness on a floating device that I'll never forget. Soon after our cave expedition, we got into our kayaks and headed downstream for 15 kms. There was just the right combination of exciting rapids and calmer waters for my partner and I to get some adrenaline and some exercise.

I've enjoyed Vang Vieng for its magnificent surroundings and fun activities but like any "backpacker mecca" there is a not so nice element that comes with hordes of youngsters invading such a small town. Public drunkenness, young women walking around town in their bikinis (a serious no-no for any Southeast Asian culture), a street lined with resturants playing Friends episodes at full blast, 24-7... it feels a bit too much like spring break in Fort Lauderdale. For me to get a real taste of Lao, it's time to move on!

Vientiene's subtle charms - July 13, 2007

2007-07-13T20:09:00.000-07:00

Minutes after my plane touched down in Vientiene, I could feel myself decompressing. In Phnom Penh, you have to arm yourself with patience and good humour to deal with the relentless harassment from tuk-tuk drivers, beggers and street children selling everything from Lonely Planet books, flowers and water. I love Phnom Penh but there is an undercurrent of violence and crime that forces you to always be on your toes. I never thought I would enjoy being ignored, but in Vientiene, it's been an absolute pleasure walking the streets with the locals barely batting an eye at me.

There is something about this city that forces you to slow down. For one thing, it's much smaller than most Southeast Asian capital cities and the traffic is steady but not chaotic -- you don't feel like you're putting your life in your hands when you're crossing the street. But it's more than lack of size or busy-ness that accounts for its laidback atmosphere. The Laotions themselves embody the national psyche of slowing down, not taking on too much stress... you can see it in the markets as shopkeepers huddle behind their desks to play cards or take a nap.

The city itself is an eclectic mix of architecture left behind by the various foriegn conquerers that have occupied the city. A heavy dose of French colonialism can be found in the wide, tree-lined boulevards, the baguette stands and the Arc de Triomphe-esque Patuxi monument.

The Siamese (Thai) influence is evident in many of the wats dotting the city, while the Laotions themselves have built some impressive monuments like the Pha That Luang.

And of course, what would a Communist country be without the socialistic, ulitarian charm of some truly ugly buildings?

Vientiene is not a city full of awe-inspiring sites and attractions, but I have found myself staying here much longer than I had anticipated. Perhaps it's the luxury of time that I am enjoying so much ... along with my nightly ritual of sitting on the banks of the Mekong River to watch the sunset and chowing down on ping kai (grilled chicken), sticky rice and a cold bottle of Beerlao.

My last week in Cambodia - July 9, 2007

2007-07-10T23:40:00.000-07:00

I will never forget my last week in Cambodia.

***

The week began with me bringing a tourist to Koh Pdao village as part of the Community Development Tour. I was quite excited as this was our first chance to see the hard work from the past months in action. One of the selling features of the Tour is the opportunity to participate in a CRDT project activity in the village. For this particular trip, we took Carmen, the tourist, to a nearby village to help prepare a vegetable garden at a primary school.

When arrived at the tiny two room school, we peeked into the windows to see rows of young children in blue and white uniforms chanting their lessons out loud. We waved to them, but they were quite shy - they just stared up at us with wide eyes. I'm pretty sure they had never seen a foreigner before. The teacher joined us and we went out toward the back where a plot of land had been squared off by a bamboo fence. This is where CRDT planned to build the garden, to be filled with pumpkins, beans, squash and other nutritious vegetables that would help feed the children.

With hoes and shovels, we began digging the beds and soon, we were drenched with sweat and dirt. The teacher barked out a loud command and the children began pouring out of the classrooms. Some of the older ones picked up the hoes and began digging furiously. It was amazing to see how strong they were and how hard they worked - they put both me and Carmen to shame! The younger children crouched down along the beds to begin weeding out the grass, roots and other debris. I knelt down beside them to help. They all stared at me with astonishment and giggled and whispered to each other.

After we finished the weeding and the beds were neatly set, Checco, the CRDT project officer, gathered the children together to talk about the importance of gardens. As he explained later, many of these children will not go beyond primary school so CRDT wants to educate and train them on these important life skills so when they grow up, they can feed their families. The teacher than asked them to give us a round of applause for helping them on the garden. To have 30 adorable children beaming up at us and clapping wildly -- needless to say, we were both thoroughly touched. They then filed back into their classroom. As we walked out of the school yard, we peeked once more into the windows and waved goodbye. This time the children waved back enthusiastically, and then, without being prompted, again began clapping wildly. My heart melted!

***

On my last night at CRDT, the staff threw a dinner party in my honour. They had been desparately trying to keep it a secret, but I knew they were having a traditional Cambodian dress made for me (if you've ever been invited to a Cambodian wedding, you will know what I mean!). Earlier in the week, one of the women had taken me to a dress shop to help her pick out a dress for a "friend." She was a terrible liar and I knew that something was up!

The women prepared the meal themselves, and invited the staff to return from the field offices for the occasion. I was touched to see that many did show up, with the exception of those who were stationed in Mondulkiri, 12 hours away. Channy, the executive director, stood up to make a toast, and Sokunthy, the financial officer, read a letter in which she thanked me for the work that I had done. They then presented me with the dress. I already knew about the dress, but what I didn't expect was the effort and care the CRDT staff took to make the evening special for me.

As I stood up to thank them for the wonderful evening, I had to choke back tears a few times as a I realized just how much they had come to mean to me. In two short months, they welcomed me with open arms and made me feel like a part of their family - and were always eager to re-introduce me to my Cambodian heritage. When I left the CRDT office for the final time that evening, everybody gathered in the courtyard to wave goodbye. As I drove off, I knew that I was so fortunate to work for such a great organization and to become friends with some amazing people in the process.

A taste of Canada in Phnom Penh - June 30, 2007

2007-06-29T22:12:00.001-07:00

The Canada Day weekend did not pass unnoticed in this tropical corner of the world - the Canadian Embassy hosted a posh reception for all the Canadian expats in Cambodia. For some reason, this country is crawling with Canadian NGO workers, and we all came crawling out of the woodwork to partake in the free flowing booze and hor d'oeurves at one of the city's fanciest hotels. And don't worry, the event was sponsored by several Cambodian businesses, so you taxpayers are not picking up the bill!

My friend Zach and I scored our invites so it was time to get dolled up. For someone who's been living out of a backpack for six months, it was a tall order, but luckily, a girl at my guesthouse lent me a beautiful white dress for the 'do. We rushed to the market to scour the stalls for a purse ($2), heels ($4) and a dinner jacket for Zach. When I got back to the guesthouse, I felt like I was going to the prom. The women buzzed around me, helping me with my make up and jewellery, numerous photos were taken of me and Zach and then we were sent on our way with the odd stumble from me as I got used to wearing heels again after six months of flip-flops.

We were greeted at the door of the hotel by our honourable ambassador, and yes, a Mountie who was flown in from Bangkok for the occasion. Several Cambodian dignataries and businessmen were on hand so it was obviously an event to showcase Canada as well. A nine piece orchestrata playing the anthem, ice sculptures of totem poles, geese and fish, and images of the Canadian landscape on an overhead projector provided the guests with a taste of Canada. Ice wine poured freely and plates of smoked salmon were passed around all night, so needless to say, we had a most excellent time as we hobnobbed with other Canadians and reminisced about home.

Despair and hope - June 28, 2007

2007-06-28T04:22:00.000-07:00

A few weeks into my volunteer stint at CRDT, I realized it's quite easy for NGO workers in Cambodia to become very cynical and disheartened. Corruption is endemic in Cambodia, from the policemen sitting on the city corner taking "fines" from passing motorists to senior government officials pocketing huge bribes from foreign companies to take land away from Cambodian farmers. At the top of the heap is Prime Minister Hun Sen, a former Khmer Rouge, whose violent repression of opposition parties and ruthless disregard for democractic freedoms are legendary. The NGO industry in Cambodia can be just as bad - development is a huge business, with some Western consultants making $20,000 a month! And after 15 years of pumping billions of dollars into Cambodia, the country is still rife with devestating poverty, derelict health care and non-existant social services.

Almost every night, I hang out with the expat community over beers and dinner, and they regale me with horrific stories of greed and incompetence. Like the high ranking government official who accepted $59 million from the Japanese government for their supporting vote at the recent International Whaling Commission to restart whale hunting. The most recent disheartening news was that the government has given the nod to a Chinese company to construct a hydroelectric dam on the Mekong River, 30 minutes upstream from one of the river's most important freshwater dolphin habitats. The dam will surely spell the end to this critically endangered animal and endanger countless other species, not to mention the devastating effect on the poor communities living along the river.

Yet...

For every moment of despair, there is always a moment of hope. For me, that hope lies with the Cambodians I've been privileged to work with over the past two months. Time and time again, I've been struck by their dedication, their welcoming and warm nature, their intelligence and their commitment to the people they are trying to help. CRDT was not the brainchild of some well-intentioned foreign aid worker; it came about because four Cambodian university students wanted to put their rural development education to good use. And what amazes me is that they are all still so young... The executive director is 30, the average age of the 19 staff members is just 27! The staff at CRDT give me a glimmer of hope for Cambodia's future. And I really will miss them when I leave CRDT in a few weeks' time.

Here's a photo of me with just some of the CRDT gang. The guy sitting next to me is Mao - his is an amazing story. He was born into a very poor rural family. When he was young, his father left his mother, and his mother was so poor, she had to give him to a wat so that the monks could take care of him. Somehow, he fought past the poverty that encased his life, went to university and became a founding member of CRDT. He is great guy, sharply intelligent, with a wonderful rapport with the villagers he works with - and he's just 28. Mao embodies the kind of leadership that is so desparately needed in Cambodia.

One month in Kratie - June 10, 2007

2007-06-16T21:26:00.000-07:00

It's now been one month since I began volunteering for CRDT and my life has suddently become remarkably routine... a bit of an adjustment after living out of my backpack and moving from city to city over the past five months. Every morning's the same: up at 7:30, chat with the young women at the baguette stand in front of my guesthouse as they prepare my breakfast (baguette and Laughing Cow cheese) and a leisurely stroll along the Mekong, dodging the herd of cows who graze nonchalantly all over the road. In the office by 9, lunch at 12:30 with the rest of the Cambodian staff who marvel at how I gobble up the Khmer food just like any other native born Cambodian. Out of the office at 5:30 and I head to Joe's to meet up with the rest of Kratie's tiny expat community for an Ancho (or two) and Western-style dinner.

The work I'm doing is interesting.... I quickly learned that I wouldn't just be doing the communications and PR for the Community Development Tour; I am also putting together the strategy for developing the Tour and creating policies, guidelines and procedures as well. It's fun and challenging to create a project from scratch rather than come in toward the end to help with the communications. Of course, I'm using my communications background to develop an orientation presentation, website content, brochures and postcards.

Yet, after one month now, I'm starting to feel the unmistakable urge to continue my travels. I have to leave the country by July 10 as my visa will run out. I know by then that I will have delivered enough to CRDT so they can run the Tour by themselves. And I'll be ready be set out again to a new destination.

Traveller's guilt - May 18-20

2007-06-02T20:55:00.000-07:00

As a backpacker, I have joined a peculiar breed of traveller where prestige is based on being cheap: finding the most inexpensive guesthouses, eating food from street stalls and markets and taking local transportation. We proudly eschew the western comforts of hot showers and turn up our noses at air conditioned tour buses so we can live and travel "like the local people."

Yet in the last few months in Cambodia , I every so often become afflicted by bouts of traveller's guilt -- a sharp, discomforting reminder that travelling -- even by backpacker standards -- is an unfathomable luxury that will never be enjoyed by the vast majority of Cambodians. Like when I hemmed and hawed and finally plopped down $15 to hire a moto guide for the day to take me around Mondulkiri - only to learn later in the day that he makes $20 a month.

My most recent moment occurred when I visited Chambok - a pretty jungly area on the edge of a national park about two hours south of Phnom Penh. It's considered to be a successful ecotourism program where the fees generated by tourists - through homestays, local guides, oxcarts rides -- stay within the community and the surrounding forest is no longer logged or burned down. In my role of helping CRDT develop its own ecotourism program in Kratie, I wanted to see for myself the various services being provided by the villagers.

So I stayed with a lovely family who fed me delicious but simple Khmer meals and I hired a young 24 year old woman -- Khem -- from across the road to be my guide. She ended up being a sweet and cheerful companion for the day, and we had a great time learning Khmer and singing songs as we stomped up the mountain trail to view waterfalls.

At one point, I asked her if she had ever been to Sihanoukville, the beach resort town two hours south of her village. She responded with a blank look.

"It's the town where a lot of tourists go,"I explained. "They go swimming and lay on the beach."

I took out a map of Cambodia and pointed to the town. "There it is, not too far from here,"I said. "This part's the ocean, the sea" pointing to the blue part of the map.

She shook her head with a confused look, and said, "What is a 'beach'? What is 'ocean'?"

That's when the telltale pang of traveller's guilt hit me -- not only had she never left her village, but she also had no idea of what I meant by "ocean," even though it was only two hours away.

Although it is an uncomfortable reminder of western wealth and privilege, traveller's guilt does force you to appreciate where you are and what you are doing ... which really isn't a bad thing at all!

(p.s. I have photos to add to this post but I will have to wait til I get to Phnom Penh where the connection is faster!)

Back home to Cambodia - May 10-15, 2007

2007-05-20T04:28:00.000-07:00

After a leisurely week in Laos, it was time to return to Cambodia so I reluctantly boarded a plane in Vientienne (I wanted to keep going north!) and flew back to Phnom Penh. As I drove from the airport to my favourite guesthouse in the centre of the city, I thought back to when I first landed in Phnom Penh almost two months earlier. Overwhelmed by the chaotic traffic and the relentless noise, I had felt completely disoriented by the city of my birth. By contrast, I was struck by how comforting it was to return to Phnom Penh after a short absence -- I calmly watched the hundreds of motos weaving their way around me and once again admired the wide boulevards with the tree-lined parks and the ornate French architecture whizzing by my window. Best of all, the family who runs my favourite guesthouse welcomed me back with warm smiles as if I had returned home.

***

Shortly after I started work, I travelled with three tourism university students and some of the Cambodian CRDT staff to Koh Pdao, the village that I had visited a month earlier. The students were conducting a basic training session for the villagers about tourism (what is tourism? what services do tourists need? etc.) and I felt it would be good for me to attend even though it would be conducted in Khmer. One of the activities in particular was especially memorable - the 85 villagers were divided into three groups and asked to answer: "What services can Koh Pdao provide to tourists"? Even though I couldn't understand a word being said, I couldn't help but laugh and clap along with all of the villagers as they excitedly shouted out their answers. The group with the least number of answers had to get up and dance in front of the whole crowd! Later, two of the village elders sat next to me and as one peppered me with questions about Canada - what time is it there now? What's the temperature? -- the other clasped my hands, and told me how happy he was that I was visiting their village and to be sure to return in December for a big festival.

****

As I drove back from the village, I gazed out of the window and marvelled at just how vividly green and lush the surrounding rice fields and swaying palm trees were now that the rainy season had started. I spotted a young boy - naked, covered in dirt - toddling around in front of his ramshackle home and my heart suddenly ached - for the breathtaking beauty of Cambodia and for its warm and friendly people who after 30 years of war are now stumbling their way to a new and uncertain future. It was that moment that I realized, like so many before me, I had fallen completely in love wih Cambodia.

My first taste of Laos -- May 2-5, 2007

2007-05-08T05:09:00.000-07:00

Well, I made it into Laos. After a rather disorganized 8 hour journey by minibus, sangtheaw and rickety canoe, we finally got to the Cambodia-Lao border -- nothing more than two tiny bamboo shacks with Cambodian and Lao immigration officials extorting $1 each from the hordes of backpackers passing through. Oh well -- a dash of Cambodian-Lao corruption is part of the southeast Asian experience I guess!

As we passed over the imaginary line, the Lao countryside didn't seem all that different than the Cambodian - lots of brilliant green jungle, rice fields and the Mekong River snaking its way through. It was the attitude of the people, however, that was most striking. There is a saying about the people in the various southeast Asian countries:

In Vietnam, they grow the rice.
In Thailand, they sell the rice.
In Cambodia, they watch the rice grow.
In Laos, they listen to the rice grow.

Having spent the last few days in Laos, it's absolutely true! In Cambodia, as soon as you get off a bus, you are instantly surrounded by tuk-tuk drivers ("Tuk-tuk? Where you go?") and guesthouse touts ("You need guesthouse? Real cheap, come take a look!"). I step off the bus in southern Laos and the locals barely bat an eye at you!

Another example? The markets of Cambodia and Thailand can be quite crazy - shopkeepers beckoning to you, shoving various souvenirs and garments in front of you. In Lao, I wandered through one shopping centre and the proprieters were either asleep or too busy playing cards to glance at me when I wandered into their store.

But in my short time in Laos so far, I've fallen in love with both the people (adults and children waving, smiling and yelling "Sabaidy" as we walk by) and the countryside. I stayed for a few days on Don Det, a tiny island just across the border from Cambodia. Part of the 4000 Islands, it's surrounded by hundreds of tiny islets, a couple of impressive waterfalls -- best of all, despite the increasing number of travellers heading here and decades of wars, the locals have maintained their basic way of life for hundreds of years. On one memorable day, I rented a bike and toured the tiny paths, peddling slowly by postcard perfect views of the grand Mekong and waving to children as they ran to greet me.

A change of plans -- May 1, 2007

2007-05-01T02:14:00.000-07:00

I've been slowly making my way up to the northeast corner of Cambodia with the intention of crossing the Lao border by early May. I would then spend a few months in Laos and then move on to Vietnam. However, life can some times throw opportunities into your path when you least expect them... in this case, it was my recent trip to see the rural village on the Mekong that opened up a new door for me.

The Cambodian Rural Development Team, the NGO who arranged my trip, has asked me to join them as a volunteer for the next 1-2 months to help them develop the communications and public relations for the Community Development Tour and contribute ideas on their overall tourism experience. I hemmed and hawed about it for a few days but in my heart, I knew this was a great opportunity to use my skills to help an organization that is making a real and visible difference for poor Cambodians.

I will be based in Kratie (about 6 hours north of Phnom Penh) and will work closely with the executive director as well as a Canadian guy who has been with the organization for 6 years. Anyone interested in knowing more about CRDT can check out their website (www.crdt.org.kh).

In the meantime, I will continue on to Laos as my Cambodian visa will run out in a few days, but will cut my trip short to return to Kratie by May 13 .

A taste of rural Cambodia - April 22-23, 2007

2007-04-23T22:55:00.000-07:00

During my time in Cambodia, I've passed through many villages in the countryside and have been fascinated by the quick glimpses of rural life - children leading cattle along the road, women scrubbing clothes by hand, men driving by with large cages filled with dead pigs perched on their motos. Recently, I was able to spend two days in a village along the Mekong - Koh Pdao - thanks to an NGO called the Cambodian Rural Development Team.

Based in Kratie, this locally run organization works with poor villages along the Mekong River to improve hygiene, food and water supplies in an environmentally friendly way. CDRT's philosopy is simple - by improving the lives of the villagers, CRDT believes the villagers will no longer need to engage in activities that pollute the river and harm the critically endangered Irrawady freshwater dolphins. (CDRT is also helping villages in Mondulkiri and in a similar way trying to protect the jungles from illegal logging.)

One of the projects that CDRT is just starting to develop is ecotourism - another form of income for the village and an opportunity for travelers to observe what village life is like and perhaps help out in one of the projects. It's a new venture for the organization - and I was lucky enough to be the first!

Getting to Koh Pdao was an experience in of itself - it's a tiny village -- about 600 people -- on an island in the middle of the Mekong, so my guide and I boarded a small boat crammed with villagers, flopping fish and live chickens. To the great amusement of those on the boat, I practised counting to 10 in Khmer and the women around me began coaching me on my pronunciation (Khmer is a hard language to learn by the way!).

When we finally arrived, my guide showed me some of the projects they've been working on - fish ponds, cement cylinders to catch rain for clean water, vegetable gardens, bamboo pens for the pigs, chickens and ducks. CRDT was responsible for encouraging each household to build latrines with septic tanks rather than using the bushes for their toilet, which would then wash into the river during the rainy season. They helped two of the families build biodigesters to turn the manure from the cows and pigs into methane gas, which was then used as cooking fuel and electricity.

I helped one family build this frog pen by cutting the plastic sheeting and fastening them to the walls -- the family will now be able to catch frogs and raise them for food and extra income.

We stayed with a local family, who provided simple but delicious meals - mainly fish and rice. During the evenings, my guide and I went out with the family to look for dolphins or we would swim in the Mekong and watch the beautiful sunsets.

All in all, it was an eye-opening and rewarding experience - people in rural Cambodia face many challenges with water and crop shortages, lack of health care and education (few go beyond primary school). Everybody - even the kids - works extremely hard to provide the basic necessities for their families - like this boy who is trying to catch fish (unfortunately all he caught were rocks). But the villagers were very kind with each other and to me - they were especially curious about me since I looked like a Cambodian but dressed and talked like a westerner!

A quiet paradise - April 1-6, 2007

2007-04-17T00:50:00.000-07:00

After the horrendously bumpy ride on Bokor mountain, it was time to chill out at the beach. Most tourists looking for fun and sun in Cambodia head to Sihanoukville - the busy beach resort town filled to the brim with guesthouses, bars, sex tourists, go-go girls etc. For that very reason, I decided to go in the opposite direction to Kep, a tiny village famous for its fresh crab and crumbling villas.

As soon as I arrived at my guesthouse, I knew I had made the right decision. The balcony in front of my hillside bungalow provided a gorgeous view of the sea, and the comfy hammock was the perfect spot to spend a few days reading, drinking Angkor beer and watching the sunset.

After World War I, wealthy Cambodians and French flocked to this beach destination and built posh homes along the beach and up in the hills. This was also unfortunately an area of intense fighting between the government forces, the Khmer Rouge and later the Vietnamese - the village never recovered and Sihanoukville soon overtook Kep in size and popularity. There is a certain sadness to the town as you drive along the beach road and see the burned out shells of what were once obviously beautiful homes.

Yet there is an undeniable charm to Kep -- especially since tourism has not yet completely altered the local way of life. Cambodians still outnumber the 'barangs' (westerners), you can sit at the crab market and watch the fishermen/women head out into the water (fully clothed!) to collect the crabs from their traps. There are a couple of nice hotels in the area, but accommodation is still fairly basic - no five star resorts yet -- and electricity in most parts of the village is turned on only during the night.

The best of the "rustic charm" can be found on Rabbit Island, a tiny island about 30 minute boat ride from Kep and home to beautiful beaches, hundreds of cows, and a small number of families who depend on the sea for their livelihood rather than on the handful of travellers who trickle through. I decided to stay a few nights in a basic bungalow - little more than a mattress and mosquito net - right on the beach. Tranquil and relaxing, it was a perfect way to unwind.

The highlight of Kep and Rabbit Island is the crab - once you placed your order, the staff will wade out to the traps in the water and pluck out a crab, which they would then fry in a delicious Kampot pepper sauce (Kampot pepper is famously flavourful and before the war used to be an integral ingredient in Paris). I'll never forget my first bite - the freshness of the crab and the succulent flavour of the pepper were simply divine!

After dinner, I paddled about in the water and looked at the handful of rustic bungalows that dotted the shore - and wondered how long it will take for someone to discover this beautiful island and turn it into Koh Samui (a very touristy island in southern Thailand). Later, I heard a rumour that negotiations are underway with a Japanese company to develop Rabbit Island into a tourist destination .... if you're in Cambodia, I would encourage you to make your way to Kep and Rabbit island before the five star resorts do!

Bokor's ghosts - March 29-30, 2007

2007-04-10T20:57:00.000-07:00

The tropical heat descended on Phnom Penh with a sweaty vengence, and after a week of 40+ degree heat, I decided to head south toward the coast and hopefully find some nice beaches. First stop was Kampot, a charming town set along a river with the Bokor mountains providing a picturesque backdrop.

Pretty French colonial buildings and surprisingly good restaurants (for such a small town) make this community a favourite among expats and travellers, but my main reason for coming was to visit the abandoned French hill station perched at the top of the Bokor mountains. Ghosts or no ghosts, I was determined to spend the night there to give myself enough time to explore.

The trip up the mountain was gruelling -- the treacherous dirt "road" had more potholes than swiss cheese and after three hours on the back of a small moto, my back, bum and legs were sore. But as the clouds rolled in and the dampness swirled around us, I was thrilled to feel cool, refreshing air for the first time since landing in Cambodia.

Best of all were the eerily empty, well preserved remnants of a thriving French community - complete with a casino, church, post office, police station, villas and a grand hotel that sat at the edge of a 1,000 metre cliff, offering breathtaking views of Cambodia's coastline.

Beautiful tiles and ornate cornices still grace the interior of the hotel, providing a glimpse of the pomp and grandeur enjoyed by the French over 60 years ago. As I walked from room to room, I tried to imagine the wealthy guests drinking, cavorting in the ballroom (pictured below), and wandering out on the terraces to enjoy the view.

My moto driver / guide explained that the casino used to be located in the grand hotel, but was eventually moved to a different building after several distraught guests pitched themselves over cliff after losing their life savings. I'm sure that the wind whistling through the open windows and the mist creeping through the hallways were actually their ghosts!

As the night began to fall, I headed to a little hill close to the church to watch the sun set and then back to the guesthouse where my moto driver cooked a delicious dinner. All in all, a fun, yet somewhat creepy outing!

The people of Angkor -- March 21-22, 2007

2007-03-26T23:47:00.000-07:00

As I left my Siem Reap guesthouse at 5 a.m. and headed out to see the sun rise over Angkor Wat, my expectations were mixed. I had heard from many people that the world's largest religious monument and its surrounding temples were stunning. But I also knew, with 1 million visitors annually, they can be a bit of a zoo. Boy was I right! Shortly after I arrived, buses filled with Japanese and German tourists pulled up and hordes of people swept through the front entrance. Yikes -- a sunrise at Angkor Wat isn't exactly an original idea!

Yet when I managed to squeeze my way through the crowds and stepped through the gateway, the sheer size and majestic beauty of the five perfectly shaped lotus towers sent shivers down my spine. I only then began to appreciate just how powerful the ancient Khmer empire must have been -- and to think Angkor Wat was built by hand!

The surrounding temples were equally impressive - the 200 smiling faces carved into 50 stone towers at the Bayon; the beautifully preserved bas reliefs at the Terrace of the Leper King; the trees swallowing the stones of Ta Prohm. The Angkor temples embody the creativity, intelligence and spirituality of the Khmer people.

But while the architecture and artistic beauty were certainly spectacular, I found myself spending just as much time watching the Cambodians around the temples -- the monks in their brilliant orange robes, the white clothed women gazing out at the foreigners, the adorable yet savvy children peddling jewelry, postcards and drinks, the elderly man with the beaming smile. These were the descendants of Angkor!

Rice planter for a day - March 19, 2007

2007-03-23T20:38:00.000-07:00

After almost two weeks in Phnom Penh, I decided to escape the noise and chaotic traffic and head to Battambang, about four hours north of the capital city. Often referred to as the "rice bowl of Cambodia," this small town is surrounded by rice fields, sugar palm trees, lotus plantations and ponds filled with hundreds of ducks (their eggs are collected daily and sold in the market). Nearby are also temples, caves and lakes, so I decided to take a tour of the countryside on the back of a moto.

What a great way to see the real Cambodia! As we bumped along narrow dirt roads through tiny villages, children would run up to wave and say hello. Herds of cattle or chickens would suddenly cross our path so the moto driver had to carefully weave through the animals. We passed through vibrantly green rice fields where workers toiled under the blazing sun. Stark reminders of the Khmer Rouge are everywhere - from the killing caves where they executed and buried thousands of victims to the temples and walls damaged by their mortar fire.

My moto driver was a great guide - he would stop along the way and point out different plants and trees to explain how they were harvested and cooked. He very kindly stopped to buy me a face mask as the roads in rural Cambodia can be quite dusty. And when he suggested that we help plant rice, I jumped at the chance to try my hand at Cambodia's most important occupation!

The workers were very sweet and laughed kindly at my poor attempts to copy their planting technique. I was about three times as slow as they were and more often than not, I had to keep going back to fix my plants as they would float apart instead of standing straight! I had a great time, but I doubt I was actually "helping" as I'm sure as soon as I left, they had to repair my damage!

A sobering day - March 12, 2007

2007-03-11T03:02:00.000-07:00

I woke up this morning knowing that it was time to pay a visit to two of the more popular tourist destinations in Phnom Penh: the Tuol Sleng Genocide Museum and the Killing Fields of Choeung Ek. I had spent the last week wandering the streets of Phnom Penh, trying to get myself into the right frame of mind -- I had to see for myself the evil of the Khmer Rouge and I knew it would be an ugly day. But I was unprepared by how emotional the experience would be.

Prior to 1975, Tuol Sleng was a high school. When the Khmer Rouge took over Phnom Penh, they turned it into a prison (S21), where over three years, some 20,000 men, women and children were imprisoned and tortured at Tuol Sleng, before being transported to the Choeung Ek to be executed. When the prison was liberated by the Vietnamese in 1979, there were only seven survivors.

As I pulled up alongside the wall of Tuol Sleng and saw the top of the buildings, a lump formed in my throat and my stomach began to churn. I entered through the front gates and had to immediately sit down to compose myself. The small courtyard was eerily quiet and the three blocks of former classrooms looked like ordinary school buildings. But the air felt heavy with the memories of the 20,000 Cambodians who suffered within these walls.

I watched the Cambodians who worked at the museum and wondered how they could look so calm, almost blase about what this place represented. Later in the day, as I chatted with my tuk tuk driver about the Khmer Rouge, I realized that the atrocities of these evil regime are never really that far from the surface.

The exhibits within the museum were gutrenching. Interrogation rooms fill one floor of a building and have pretty much been left as they were found with metal beds and shackles still standing in the middle of the room. Photos on the wall depict in graphic detail the corpses that the Vietnamese found in each room.

The instruments of torture are still there -- knives, hoes, hammers, wooden beams that they used to pull people's arms out of their sockets, the dunking chamber where they half-drowned the prisoners -- as well as several graphic paintings illustrating how these instruments were used on the victims.

Another section of the museum houses hundreds of prisoner photos - the Khmer Rouge were meticulous in their record keeping and have names, numbers, biographies and "crimes" documented for each person they executed. Row after row, men, women and children stare back at you. Some are visibly frightened, others are defiant, while some just look numb, resigned to the horrific fate awaiting them. Especially heartbreaking were the photos of the children -- how twisted do you have to be to hate this little boy, to view him as an enemy of the Khmer Rouge?

As I looked at each of the hundreds of photos, I stopped to examine the young boys and teenage girls wondering if they could possibly be the siblings that we left behind. I looked for a physical resemblence, a reflection of me when I was 14 (the approximate age of my sister), but thankfully, I didn't see anything that jumped out at me.

There were also exhibits that showed old photos and suriving family members recounting the stories of the victims in Tuol Seng. Their stories were achingly similar to ours -- missing parents, dead brothers and sisters, pleas for news about loved ones. I had never thought of ourselves as victims of the Khmer Rouge because Noelle and I left before they came into Phnom Penh and we had such an idyllic childhood in Canada. But it suddenly occurred to me that just like the families depicted in this exhibit, the Khmer Rouge were responsible for tearing our Cambodian family apart.

I left the museum with a heavy heart and headed to the Killing Fields, 16 km outside of Phnom Penh. This was an extermination camp - prisoners from Tuol Sleng prison were transported here to be executed. Throughout this former orchard, you can still see vivid reminders of the atrocities committed here -- mass graves where the corpses were unearthed in the 80s, bits of clothing and bone lay undisturbed on the grounds and as this sign aptly describes, this tree was used to kill babies.

Right in the centre of the Killing Fields is a memorial stupa with 8,000 skulls set on rows of shelves. A sign on the stupa asks visitors "Would you please kindly show your respect to many million people who were killed under the genocidal Pol Pot regime".... so I decided to light some incense. As I knelt to place the incense in the pot, I was overwhelmed with emotion -- I felt like I had finally come home to honour my Cambodian family.

Later, I sat down to have lunch with my tuk-tuk driver -- he was also born in 1975 in the countryside. "Pol Pot regime was very bad" he said, shaking his head "Cambodians killing Cambodians." I felt from him a sense of national shame that Cambodians were capable of doing this to themselves. "You were very lucky you left when you did," he said, "You survived."

"You did too," I replied. We smiled at eah other and by the end of the day, my tuk tuk driver (Polo) and I had became friends. (We've exchanged e-mail addresses!)

My first Cambodian impressions -- March 9, 2007

2007-03-09T03:04:00.000-08:00

I landed in Phnom Penh late Monday night, and as the taxi took me to my hotel, I stared out the window at the streets, the people, the crumbling buildings trying to imagine the city as it was 30 years ago. Coming from the sparkling new Bangkok airport, the contrast between Thailand and Cambodia was starkly clear - I had indeed entered a third world country.

I chatted with the driver who was interested to learn that I had been born in Phnom Penh in 1975 -- he would have been old enough to remember April 17, 1975, and it struck me that the memories of the Khmer Rouge must still be so raw for so many Cambodians. I didn't have the nerve to ask him about what he experienced ... I'm not yet sure if people are open to talking about it.

After four days of walking through Phnom Penh, four things have stood out for me..

-- The traffic is crazy! I thought Bangkok was chaotic but at least they have lights and rules. Here, the cars, motos, bikes all follow their own laws - motos often zip down the wrong side of the street and there are no traffic lights or right of way at intersections. I sat at one corner for 10 minutes and watched the vehicles converge from all four sides and somehow move their way around each other to get across to the other side. There are very few crosswalks so if you have to cross a road as a pedestrian, you have to calmly step out in front of the oncoming traffic and trust they can see you! They generally will just move around you so you must keep a steady pace and not surprise the drivers or you will get hit! That said, accidents - espeically for motos -- are very common.

-- Phnom Penh is a poor city but there is a certain charm that slowly creeps into you. There is a pretty promenade with trees and flapping flags right along the bank of the Tonle Sap river where many tourists and Cambodians alike spend their evening. The wide boulevards are lined with trees and there are stretches of park with sculptures and monuments. Best of all is the colonial architecture, which is everywhere in the city - the French certainly left their mark on Phnom Penh. For many years, the buildings were left to rot but recently there has been a resurgence of restoration by the government, which sees the tourist value of beautifying the city. The following photos are typical - they stand side by side, with one falling into disrepair and the other painted the typical cream yellow.

-- Cambodians are a very attractive people -- both the men and women -- and I'm not just saying that cause I'm Cambodian! There is something quite distinctive in their look, certainly different than the Thais. I'm not sure if there is a mix in the history of the Khmer people that has resulted in a more defined bone structure and beautiful eyes.

-- The poverty in the city is striking and depressing -- many young children begging in the streets, often leading a blind parent or a grandparent with amputated limbs. As you leave the restaurants or museums, they approach you with their hands out and with the saddest expressions on their faces. There are a lot of NGOs (non-governmental agencies) in Cambodia - and I wonder if they are making a difference?

An elephant paradise - February 26-March 4, 2007

2007-03-04T21:00:00.000-08:00

For my final week in Thailand, I decided to volunteer at the Elephant Nature Park, near Chiang Mai in northern Thailand. This unique sanctuary rescues abused domestic elephants from all over the country and brings them to park where they can roam freely, interact with other elephants and just be elephants - no trekking, no begging food from tourists, no circus tricks. What a week - I'm not even sure how to put this wonderful experience into words.

***

When we first arrived at the park, I knew this was indeed an elephant's paradise. There were elephants everywhere! Some were wandering leisurely through the grass, others were hanging out near the platform waiting anxiously for their food while nearby three baby elephants played with a tire swing.

It was an eyeopening first day - we learned about the horrific abuse domestic elephants in Thailand suffer, the history and work of the Elephant Nature Park, and its mission to change the way Thailand treats what is supposed to be a revered Buddhist icon and national symbol. Elephant tourism is huge in Thailand, but unfortunately, most of the elephants in trekking camps and begging in city streets are malnourished, mistreated and overworked.

Many of the elephants at the park had suffered agonizing treatment from their former owners and mahouts (trainers) before they were rescued - "Jokia" was blinded with arrows and sticks, "Lilly" was fed aphetamines and forced to work as a trekking elephant during the day and illegal logging at night. This particular elephant ("Mae") was forced to breed at too young an age and her back was broken by the aggressive male elephant.

All domestic elephants go through a brutal training regiment at a very young age - they are taken away from their mothers for the first time, enclosed in a tiny cage, deprived of food, sleep and water for 36 hours or more and beaten with hooks and sticks with nails. 40 per cent die from the training, while 50 per cent of those who survive go insane. It was a sobering first day.

***
And yes... in case you're wondering, as a volunteer, I picked up elephant poo. Lots of it! We also prepared their food, fed them and bathed them in the river. There was also a lot of grunt work and very hard physical tasks -- hacking down banana trees with machetes, repairing a damaged roof, carrying heavy loads of bamboo.

But I enjoyed every moment - even though my body ached, my knees creaked and I've never been so stinky and dirty in my life! We had a great group of volunteers who made even the mundane job fun. But more importantly, it was great to see the elephants enjoy the fruits of our labour. For example, we had to dig out a huge mud pit with shovels and buckets - standing knee deep in a pool of muddy water, it was backbreaking work in the blazing sun. But seeing these baby elephants and even some of the adults sliding around and playing in the pit was worth every aching muscle!

***

Of course, the best part of the week was getting close with the elephants, learning their different personalities and watching how they behave with each other. Every day, we got to handfeed the elephants and feel the strength of their trunks as they reached for the yummy bananas or watermelon.

In the river, we threw buckets of water on the elephants and used brushes to scrub their tough skin. On one magical overnight trip, we walked with one of the families (a baby, mother, aunt and a couple of males) up a mountain and into the jungle where they were released to wander and forage. But it was the unexpected moments that I will always remember -- like walking down from the volunteer huts to the main area and having the baby and mother walk nonchalantly across my path. Or hearing the sound of an elephant trumpet reverberating through the park and bouncing back from the surrounding mountains, which sent shivers down my spine.

I especially loved watching the passion and devotion with which the mothers and aunts protected their babies. I will never forget the image of one mother who heard her baby squeal and immediately thundered across the meadow at an incredible speed to get to him - with ears flaring, the dust rising around her feet, it was an awesome and somewhat scary sight - especially since we were in her direct path. We quickly moved out of the way of course!

All in all, it was an unforgettable experience... and if you would like to enjoy elephants in Thailand, I would encourage you to skip the hundreds of trekking camps throughout the country and head to the Elephant Nature Park instead.

Here's one of my favourite photos... the smaller elephant on the left is "Hope" - orphaned as a baby and rescued early on by the Park, he is now a healthy six year old boy. Like many youngsters, he enjoys bugging the older elephants in his family until they've had enough. They then usually turn around and give Hope a good thwacking.

A taste of China in the mountains - February 15, 2007

2007-02-20T00:23:00.000-08:00

Stepping off the bus in Mae Salong, it's easy to think you were mistakenly dropped off in China. The street signs are in Mandarin, there are Chinese red lanterns over many of the shops and the architecture of the houses were distinctly Chinese.

For such a tiny village, Mae Salong has quite a storied history -- it was settled by a regiment of the Kuomintang army who fled China after the 1949 Communist Revolution. They simply set up their life as they had left it in Yunnan province -- and quickly beome involved in the opium trade operating along the borders of Burma, Laos and northern Thailand. Mae Salong was quite isolated from the Thai authorities, and with poor roads and its proximity to Burma, it soon became an important centre for the infamous opium warlord Khun Sa.

For decades, the Thai army's efforts to stamp out the drug industry met with little success -- it wasn't until the 1980s when they drove Khun Sa into Burma that Mae Salong began to open up. Paved roads and efforts to replace the poppy cultivation with tea, corn and other crops helped turn this tiny village into the tourist destination that it is today.

And no wonder -- set high at the top of a mountain rolling peaks, rice paddies and plantations on all sides, the views from this quiet village is spectactularly beautiful.

I decided to go on a four hour horseback trek into the surrounding countryside, which stopped in several remote hillside villages. My horse was a bit naughty -- I think he knew he had a novice on his back because he kept stepping off to the side to munch on grass and leaves, no matter how hard I tugged at his leash! Oh well.. it was a lot of fun.

Killing myself at Phu Kradung -- February 10, 2007

2007-02-12T00:05:00.000-08:00

Okay, what was I thinking? I decided to take a day trip to Phu Kradung National Park for some hiking. According to Lonely Planet, the 6km trail was "not that challenging" and "is quite scenic." Home to various wildlife and peppered with cliffs, waterfalls and forests... sounds lovely right?

The trail is broken down into seven sections.... let's just say that by the second one, I was ready to die! This was no leisurely stroll through the forest; this was literally scaling up the side of a mountain by scrambling over rocks, trudging up a zillion stairs and climbing treacherous ladders. And because I had decided not to spend the night in the park, I was faced with a time limit if I wanted to catch the last bus back to my home base in Leoi, 1.5 hours away.

My hike turned into a test of physical will and strength - the park ranger said that it takes most people five hours to reach the top; three hours for those who were really booting it. Once I started, I couldn't turn back until I reached the summit (I'm kinda stubborn that way) so I plodded on.

Along the way, I passed many Thai hikers (for some reason, no western tourists) who were very friendly and sweet. One thing I can't understand though is their tolerance for heat. It was bloody hot and I was soaked in my shorts and T-shirt. Yet many of the Thai hikers wore long pants, jeans, jackets, sweaters etc. I would have fainted!

Well, I made it up in three hours! Whew.... I was so pooped that I was barely able to appreciate the spectacular view. I think this sign says it all ... i really did feel like I conquered Phu Kradung. Needless to say, my butt and legs hurt for days and I had to get several Thai massages (I know, tough life!).

Chilling in a Mekong oasis - February 5-7, 2007

2007-02-05T20:12:00.000-08:00

After travelling for several days through some of the northeast's most congested, noisy, dirty urbanized areas, I landed in Nong Kai. Stretched along the banks of the Mekong River, this sleepy town is the gateway for many travellers to Laos and as such, is set up well with many budget guesthouses and excellent food.

The pulse of Nong Kai is the Mekong River, one of the world's major waterways meandering through China, Myanmar, Laos, Thailand, Cambodia and Vietnam. It has witnessed the rise and fall of some of history's mightiest civilizations and continues to sustain the lives of millions of people. And as I biked along the bank and gazed toward Laos on the other side I had to pinch myself a few times, marvelling that I am seeing this with my own eyes -- this is why I love to travel! Below is a sunset on the Mekong, taken from a slow boat cruise... the bridge in the background connects Thailand and Laos.

I stayed at the wonderfully serene Mut Mee Guesthouse. After staying at some rather sketchy hotels in urban Thailand, my bungalow was a lovely treat -- a four poster bed, a tiny veranda perfect for reading and drinking a Singha beer, hot water shower...

One of the strangest attractions in this town is the Salakeawkoo sculpture garden, built by a Laotion mystic who died in 1996. His mummified corpse lies in state in the centre, and is surrounded by gigantic stone statues of Buddhist and Hindu deities. Below are photos of a 25 metre high Buddha surrounded by a coiled naga cobra with several scary looking heads and a lovely skeletal couple, signifying that passion is not eternal!

Trekking in Khao Yai National Park - January 29-30, 2007

2007-01-31T00:19:00.000-08:00

I've left southern Thailand behind and will spend the next month exploring the north. First stop was Khao Yai National Park, Thailand's largest park where elephants, monkeys, tigers etc. roam through the mountains. And folks, it's definitely a lot cooler here and long sleeves and sweaters are necessary at night. But it's really breathtaking scenery...

I stayed at the Green Leaf Guesthouse, which also does tours through the park. You can try and trek it alone but it's quite easy to get lost so I decided to put myself in the hands of the experts. It's was a great choice ... the guides at Green Leaf were absolutely wonderful, knowledgeable and really cared about showing us a good time. We were all crossing our fingers for an elephant sighting, but unfortunately, we did not see any. We did see several gibbons, macaques, hornbills and deer -- and with the guide's telescope, we were able to get some fabulous pictures.

We also were able to see a beautiful sunset.

My tour of Ao Phang-Nga Bay - January 23, 2007

2007-01-24T22:18:00.000-08:00

To really experience the beauty of Phang-Nga, I decided to do a full-day organized tour through a local travel agency. A leap of faith really since you don't know for sure if the tour operator is good... but no worries, it was a great experience.

Our group was nice and small (a couple from France, two really sweet girls from Switzerland), and our guide took us to several islands in Phang-Nga Bay with hidden lakes and caves. Heading into the caves was especially fun with just the guide's weak flashlight to show our way through complete darkness -- and for some reason, I always found myself at the head of the pack. I'm surprised I didn't bonk my head on the stalagmites!

We stopped off at Ko Phing Kan island, otherwise known as "James Bond Island." Apparently, it was featured in one of the James Bond movies but the cultural significance was a bit lost on me since I've never since a James Bond flick. The island was teeming with tourists and aggressive souvenir sellers .... so I decided to join the crowd and get a photo of the famous rock.

One of the last stops was at Ko Panyi, a Muslim fishing village built on stilts. Hordes of tour boats touch down here so there's quite a row of expensive seafood restaurants and even more souvenirs. But you only had to walk further into the village to completely lose the crowds and see how the villagers really live. Here's another pic of me and two adorable monkeys ... the picture cost me 100 baht, but the monkeys were sooo cute and felt like warm teddy bears so it was worth it.

More beach bumming in Ko Lanta -- January 20, 2007

2007-01-23T02:12:00.000-08:00

Spent a couple of days on Ko Lanta, an island 2 hours south of Krabi. Nice beaches crowded with bungalows and resorts .... a lot of farang (tourists) intermingled with adorable Thai children running all over the place. I took a long walk on one of the beaches and came across these cuties playing together on a kayak. They saw I was carrying my camera and stopped to give me a wave .... check out the little boy hamming it up in the foreground!

Believe it or not, I think I've had enough of the beach scene (wah! I know those shivering in TO and KW must hate me now) and will slowly make may way up the Indian Ocean side of southern Thailand. Next stop is Phangna where I plan to check out some caves, mangroves and a Muslim village built on stilts.

An ideal wedding? - Krabi, January 19, 2007

2007-01-18T19:00:00.000-08:00

After a four hour boat ride and a bit of bus travelling, I landed on the other side of southern Thailand in Krabi - a laid back town with friendly people - perfect for planning my next leg of the journey up the Adaman Coast. I'm now officially "brown as a baked bean" after lounging on the boat under the direct sun and chatting with a very sweet couple from Holland.

Ralph and Yammy (my Dutch friends) are also on a 1-year trek through Southeast Asia and have already "hit" some of the areas I plan to go next. They will end their year by getting married on the Cook Islands - no family, no friends, just a very intimate ceremony on one of the most beautiful islands in the South Pacific. They have it all worked out - she even ordered her dress in Vietnam and had it shipped to the Cook Islands. Sounds perfect - doesn't it? Also, I figure there is no better test of a relationship -- if at the end of a year of travelling together, you still love each other, then you're meant to be!!

A slice of paradise - Koh Phangan - Jan 15, 2007

2007-01-14T19:12:00.000-08:00

Wow... white sand, aqua water and a laid back ambience. Haven't been doing too much but laying on the beach, reading my book, jumping in the water and then laying on the beach again. I know.. it's been a tough life.

The first place I stayed -- Coconut Beach -- was really remote, but had a private beach. Run by a sweet Thai family who gave me a deal (250 baht for a nice bungalow). Other people were really nice, friendly ... met a Belgian, a Russian and several Aussies. I'm now at a fancier resort (a birthday gift to myself), and I have a bungalow right on the beach.

We've all heard about the "ugly American tourist" stereotype ... well, i'm embarrassed to say that so far, i've run into several "ugly Canadians." One couple from the Okanagan complained constantly and then refused to pay their bill at the Coconut Beach. Then, three young French Canadian girls from Montreal woke up the whole resort at 3 a.m. by singing loudly and very off key. Ughh...

Anyways, here's some pics of me and the beautiful beaches on Koh Phangan. Will be heading over to Krabi and the other side (koh Pi pi) in a couple of days..

Monkeys!! - Petchaburi, Thailand - Jan 10, 2007

2007-01-10T00:08:00.000-08:00

Mixed reviews of Hua Hin - Jan 9, 2007

2007-01-08T19:32:00.000-08:00

I woke up this morning and went out on the deck of my guesthouse -- it's built on a pier right over the shore so you get to fall asleep to the sound of waves. I had my coffee and bananas and soaked up the sun as it was rising over the horizon ... can't think of a better way to start the day. The multi-story ritzy Hilton is right next door, but for 400 baht a night ($13), I wouldn't trade places for the world ...

Hua Hin is a laid back resort town, kinda quaint with a fantastic night market with yummy cheap food (spicy curry noodles for less than $1). What's not so nice is that it has a definite sleaze factor to it.... mixed in with the families, couples and backpackers are the old, ugly white men (sorry if I offend anybody) arm-in-arm with very young, attractive Thai women/girls. Certain alleys are lined with Thai hookers trawling for foreign men.... And because I look Thai, I've had several of these men eyeing me or trying to say hello ... blech! I just give'em my "Naomi glare" and move on...

Aside for that, I do like this town ... nice and mellow with a nice beach within walking distance.

A soft landing in Bangkok - Jan 6, 2007

2007-01-05T18:29:00.000-08:00

I arrived safely in Bangkok on Jan 4, very tired after a 24 hour flight from TO. Still recovering abit from jet lag but it hasn't been too bad.. just my clock is a bit off and I'm getting up super early and falling asleep at around 8 p.m.

I spent my first day wandering around Banglamphu trying to get my bearings ... it really is a backpacker ghetto but it's great for a new arrival like me as it has everything i need to get started on this journey.

Checked out the Grand Palace and Wat Phra Kaeo -- breathtaking. For those hoping for a pic, sorry ... pulled the ultimate stupid move and left my brand new digital camera in the cab from the airport :( ... I will be getting a new camera but quite bummed.

Speaking of bums, got my first Thai massage ... and unlike NA massage therapists, a thorough massaging of the derriere was part of the experience. After a 24 hour flight, a bum massage was actually quite a treat!

2006-12-30T10:23:00.000-08:00

Last night, my sister threw me a bon voyage party at Alio, a nice bar with a fire place and pool table. 14 of my friends came to say good bye, some of whom I've known for 13 years. As you can see by these photos, we had a few drinks and all of us had a great time laughing, joking and hanging out. They can be a bit goofy, but they are way cool. I am gonna miss everybody.

Preparing for the adventure of a lifetime

2006-12-09T17:55:00.000-08:00

On January 3, 2007, I am leaving my cushy public relations job at an insurance company and flying to Bangkok, Thailand for year-long adventure in Southeast Asia. I will spend much of my time in Cambodia, where I was born 31 years ago. But I will also take this opportunity to explore this region -- Indonesia, Thailand, Vietnam, the Philippines and more. I have no set plan other than to follow my heart.

Check back soon as I will post my photos, thoughts and updates...