Kuta: Conta Part I

Kuta: Bali Beginnings

Bali's main airport is big bright and clean with large traditional Balinese stone doors adorning the entrance. Already my first impression of it is more relaxed than mainland south east Asia, though I've not got out of the car yet so there's still plenty of time to get harassed. Roads are smooth and traffic moves efficiently. Appearance is clean. I feel the way I felt when I landed in Aus for the first time- relaxed, looked after (I have a welcome pack from the school in the car and a driver taking me to a hotel they booked). I'm slightly awed, anticipating but trying not to expect anything.

The main road entering Kuta, Sunset road, which is also where I shall be working for my first month here, has a big line of palm trees running down its' length and it reminds me of LA. Is this an affluent town? Perhaps not, a girl is begging with a baby in traffic, two actually. 

I arrive at my hotel and jump for joy at the double bed before me, heading straight to the shower to wash away the last 36 hours of travel from my tired carcass. 

Kuta Day Two

On the way to the school from Kuta to Denpasar. There are lots of giant faded plastic-looking billboards, traffic and tight roads where the buildings appear to topple over on to you as you pass by. The shear volume of gargantuan signs for restaurants appear to me like cheap magazine adverts for coupons. Some are very run down buildings and some new. Some giant hotels and a great deal of over-development in an attempt to sell you a piece of paradise. 

As we wind through twisting roads, accompanied by the tooting horns of a plethora of bikes, shrines and temples jump out of pavements next to shops, cafes and surf clothing outlets. Unfortunately Starbucks is here to greet me too. Roundabouts and municipal buildings are beautifully kept and ornate statues of Kings and warriors surrounded by painted concrete water and perfectly groomed grass. They are the best thing to look at in the city. I meet another teacher and we pair up, a silent pact of two newbies, let's go for dinner together later in the evening. 

Deepest, darkest Kuta is just like Patong. Hiding underneath a shiny sheen of clean footed and flip-flopped tourists with glowing skin, neon lights and pumping house music is an underbelly of poverty. Girls in skimpy dresses and people trying to make a buck where they can. Fat middle-aged sex tourists picking up skinny young Indonesian girls for an evening of void filling. Australian holiday makers in wife beaters making far too much noise. The men looking through the glass behind you while you enter your pin at an ATM. Imagine being so poor you can't feed your children. So poor you are willing to allow people to sexually touch you so you'll have security. 

I saw a woman on the street selling bracelets, her son sleeping on newspaper by her side. I had just found out my wages here are terrible and feeling hard done by, laughed at, mugged off and completely stupid for my own sake. I walked past her and realised what an idiot I was. Here I was complaining about my situation and there was a woman unable to put food in her child's belly just feet away from me. I went back and gave her the change in my pocket- a measly amount and one I didn't understand for the currency sums I can't seem to do in my mathematically blocked head. I didn't take the bracelet she offered. Just closed her thin hands around the crumpled notes hoping it could buy her and her son a meal. She looked at me with the shocked tired ghostly face of a starving person. I cried all the way home. 

The view of next door's temple from my transient home, Granny's Hostel. A haven for free spirited travelers if ever there was one.

Eff the serious life... In Thailand

Two weeks in Thailand has flown by. 

There were periods of feeling lost and defeated, broken by buckets and the mystery bruises which accompany them. And there were times when I wanted a moment to be an entire lifetime.
I kind of ballsed up with my travel plans, got stuck on Phi Phi and its' addictive party scene and managed one on Koh Lanta before spending my last day on buses to make it to Kuala Lumpur in time for the flight to a new life. But first let me tell you about Phi Phi. 

Koh PhiPhi was exactly how I remembered. Heedy, hedonistic, riddled with parties and Mosquitoes, entirely beautiful, the warmest water, coral reefs filled with fish, cliff jumping opportunities every where and hypnotic sunsets. A hard place to pull yourself away from. Everyone is so friendly, local, holiday maker or backpacker. It's easy to make friends with anyone, just say hello. 

I met some guys who had been traveling for seven years, one was 32 and simply lived for it. He had so many interesting stories and had been to so many places. I wished so hard I could have brought a voice recorder out with me; in comparison I felt like an amateur beginner backpacker for sure. 

That's the thing about South East Asia, and really, traveling in general: you meet so many wonderful and sometimes strange people that touch you in such different ways, that you're sure you could never have so many varied experiences without being right here, right now. And it hypnotizes you, your guard goes down and everyone you meet gets under your skin. Blame it on the heat. I wasn't being a romantic soul to all humanity, I was just thirsty! 

Floating at sunset off Koh Phi Phi bay

Just make sure you bring deep pockets with you to these islands. As they are on the tourist trail, the accommodation, food and alcohol are all going up in price. Even though I was only Koh Lanta for one night and therefore, hardly an expert, I noticed the difference in price over a Chang. 70 Baht for a small bottle, and it was only sold in the bars. Whereas on Phi Phi you could get a large one for the same price at a shop. However I was able to get a lovely bungalow on the beach for the night and a fantastic Massaman curry, even if I did have to kill the largest spider ever seen by a scared English girl. 

Ladies please note, when traveling/living on your own or even just wanting to maintain a level of self respect, you have to deal with evil looking grobblies. Screaming and jumping on the bed is of course expected, but if you have no other option, then look at that eight legged monstrosity in the face, call him Colin, and get rid of the thing. I called him Colin as Bob was already taken by a shark I saw back on Koh Tao. 

Spiders and missing new friends aside, the one night I got to spend in Lanta was tonic after the craziness of the previous six nights. Four of us sat in reclining cushions, listening to the sea rolling in only 20 feet away. The owner of the bar (Monkey bar) was a crazy Thai guy with a Swedish girlfriend who had moved down from Bangkok 7 years ago. The more I talk to Thais, the more I like them. They just have the best sense of humour. They have resigned themselves to our ever present white, loud-mouthed existence in their country and decided that it would be more fun to take the piss out of us. They take enjoyment in things we are too self conscious to consider, and if you take the time to actually talk back, you'll be treated to the biggest warmth, gentleness, humour and maybe even a little peep hole in to understanding their country more as they do. 

It's unfortunate I missed Koh Lipe, but the way I feel about saying goodbye to Thailand the way you say goodbye to a friend with whom you always have coffee. Thailand I'll be back. Having said that though, I will not return to Hat Yai. There is nothing there to tempt a traveler, unless you count an overriding sense of fear and expectation of being robbed among a big cluster of dirty concrete buildings. Although this is the nicest bus I've been on in Asia, and that includes the reclining bed buses in Vietnam. Well, almost.

Monkey Bungalows, Koh Lanta

Departure: Devon, London, Thailand

I waved until I couldn't see their arms waving back. 

This time we managed to keep the tears within our eyes and grunted and coughed in place of weeping. The day had finally come to leave home, begin the first leg of my journey to Asia and finish off 2013. 

On the platform, Mum and Steve gave me embraces and smiles, I told them:

"See you before September!" 

"No, before!" Mum reminded me with a grin. 

As the train pulled away from the platform we shouted farewells, or 'ta-ta-for-nows' as I like to call them, until our voices blended with the noise of the engine. "See you before I know it!" I yelled, a shrug between the two went up. We waved and waved at each other until all I could see was an arm and five splayed fingers wildly swinging in the air from left to right, poking out of the shadow of another person's head.

The sun is shining, always a good sign in England where a few leaves on the tracks will slow services to a stop. Smooth if not rushed, 'sailing' so far: always a good sign.

The train is packed with Christmas holiday-makers returning to London for New Year and 9-5. Nervous and sad to leave as I am at least I get to avoid the depression of 'back to work'.

Last time I left, a teary goodbye was had at the security check in at Heathrow Terminal 1. I managed to lose my boarding pass immediately after but made it on the flight non-the-less. Eleven hours to Hong Kong, another 12 or so to Sydney, all spent in the petrifying and awed state of sleeplessness that is accompanied by as many films to catch up on as you can fit in to a long haul flight. This time, there isn't so much of an airy fairy feel to departure. Seen it, done it, and bought so many of the cheap beach t-shirts I've had to leave half of them at home. This time I get to hang up my clothes in a wardrobe within a seemingly short time, get to know a place properly and develop real roots. Not as much flippant and flowing as steady and (attempting) considered, however still unable to see too far ahead. How exciting!

Brixton at sunset

London

Two days in London with friends for New Year was a wonderful party filled goodbye and as the plane pushed back a few tears made their way to ruin the calm on my face without my permission. Then the Captain announced he was kicking some people off the plane for smoking in the corridors, 'ugh' I thought and immediately brightened.

Thailand

Bangkok round two proved to be an interesting and worthwhile, if not slightly enforced, stay. Unable to get a bus or train to the intended destination, I wondered around palaces and temples, streets and hawkers for two days; intermittently meeting fellow Brits, who were also similarly fresh off the boat. What a difference it makes to your attitude to be around others who share your belief in travel. Even if to do so, you have to avoid the offerings of dried scorpions over dinner, and the sound of wooden frogs that croak at your stroke.

Returning to a place you traveled once before is peppered with memories of what you did last time. This is certainly more tame than previous. I haven't felt the need to drink buckets of Samsong until the sun rose over Kaosan road. I stayed  in Silom, a somewhat middle class area, away from the craziness of Sukhumvit. I enjoyed far more cultural spots and even an afternoon wondering around a protest unable to find my way out, which in hindsight, was much like my last visit to Bangkok when I couldn't get off KaoSan for the constant hangover clouding my judgement. 

Thais are wonderfully entrepreneurial people. I've never been to a protest before, not for lack of interest, but I can't imagine there are many around the world so saturated with stalls. Selling any kind of promotional material to prove your support, all items were in the colours of the Thai flag and there were piles of t shirts stating 'shutdown Bangkok'. 

The bus to koh Tao is not accompanied by friends met along the way, but at least I haven't woken up dribbling on a love interests' t-shirt. And the rest stop is not somewhere I will buy egg noodle soup at midnight. I learned that lesson. Just like I learned my lesson about buying batik clothes- unless you genuinely dress like that at home, save your money cos you will only wear it here and it is much like buying festival hats at Glastonbury. You will look and feel a bit mental and desperate to be back there once not in that environment. After Secret Garden Party last year I felt that there was not enough glitter in my life so I purchased a glitter nail varnish. I wore it for a month before I began to feel like I was dressing my fingers the same way as a 12 year old.

Three nights later...

I have fallen in to the tourist trap and stuck to the regular trail. Koh Tao turned out to be very different from before and high season brought with it an exodus of backpackers from the West. Last time there were a few of us travelers on the island and the locals weren't tired of white people and young drunks. I went there to meet a good friend of mine called Nathan, that I had met traveling in Vietnam. It is still however paradise and if you were to go there during high season I would recommend staying away from Sairee beach and getting out to other parts of the island. Snorkeling trips are cheap and a whole day's worth.

I am normally petrified of snorkeling for the simple reason that you are floating on the top and sharks attack from below. I saw a black reef tip shark, which by and large are innocuous. Nathan gave chase a rather futile effort up against a stream line creature such as that, and I called the shark Bob all the same, as who could be frightened of Bob?

We spent three days generally feeling hungover and dodging white tourists on bikes they didn't know how to maneuver. I would have to say that this beautiful island, known for its' diving, healthy reefs, hedonistic nightlife, tree lined hills and white beaches, is better when it's quiet. When there aren't so very many white faces. Even though I am one of them. If I had more time I would try to get further off this beaten track.

To Koh Phi Phi, Koh Lanta and Koh Lipe.

Coming in to Phi Phi Don