Christmas by the sea

Today I find myself on the other side of the globe, sailing on the shores of Miami Beach, looking at the array of imagination it takes to light up a boat. In Miami decoration is individual so most days you cruise down lush avenues covered in large trees and find most porches or fences lit up. This year, the boat parade at Key Biscayne was unique for me; it was my first time. The day was overcast and threatening rain. Yet we took off before sunset to observe the array and display of light. Dusk rolled along and I stopped for a moment to remind myself of why I have always thought it to be the most beautiful and peaceful time of day. We were not surrounded by that quietness that snowfall evokes, but the city was far away in the distance and the calmness of the water felt peaceful. The air was foggy. The city lights bouncing off the clouds offered an electric blue light. I looked around to the water as I soaked up drops of rain on my skin. The sensation was eerie, yet magical. For a moment I was back in Vietnam, floating down the spooky waters and through the giant lime-stone karsts of Halong Bay. And so I began to remember the year that had passed; how time flies; how tough it is sometimes to be an active protagonist of such different lives.

I wish you all much health to run out and pursue your dreams in this life that is so short and so rich with opportunity.

Immigration

As my flight landed 5 days ago, the man at the immigration desk asked me what I did for a living. I hesitated. I had no choice but to reply, "nothing". He or I would hardly have time to delve into what's been occupying my time over the past months. I suppose the fact that it's the holiday season forgives this rather strange answer. At another time I think he would've asked more questions and perhaps even prevented my entry.

It is interesting how random events take on a special place in one's mind, one's drive for improvement or one's dreams. The next time I get asked that question I would like to say "I am an artist", "I am a published author", "I am a singer", "I am a photographer". I have to start believing it first, and then I will be able to project it onto those around me.

I have thought a lot lately about career and what drives so many of us to enter the corporate world from university. What has got me thinking a lot is why career fairs tend to be so populated with corporate giants and their lavish sales pitch presentations to attract us independence and salary-hungry twenty something year olds. I cannot remember ever visiting a stand with pilots, firefighters, editors, musicians, decorators, designers, craftsmen, olympians... I majored in marketing and minored in 2 foreign languages so I suppose we have such a clear idea at 20 of what or who we want to be as grown-ups that what is staged around us are only the obvious paths. And that is fine. I know I have learned ever so much more in the business environment than from textbooks in college. But really, most people studying business, I think, are there because they are not quite sure they know what else to study, or have no strong vocational desire to be a lawyer, doctor, architect, singer, writer... at least a business office will give them a quick run up the graduate career ladder. So my question to myself is whether I would've lived differently had I developed my extra curricular interests a bit more, had my commencement speech mentioned it's OK not to know what you want and that it's OK to go out and explore...even if it may take you years to find out, had the graduate fair showcased more than the idolised, sleek business-woman running her own team?

I look at my life and admire many of the things I have done and think I wouldn't want it any other way. There are also times when I feel like the system is somehow not quite right and that the western world pushes us towards careers and life habits that do not quite fit the real dreams within, or what our minds and bodies were designed for. Interestingly, all these jobs fuel all the industries arising to relax and de-stress people, to entertain them as quickly and intensely as possible, to drive them to foreign lands for a taste of how the majority of the world live in the space of sometimes less than 10 days. It's a well-oiled ... and a rather disturbing machine somehow. On the other hand, maybe it is there because THAT is the real test of strength; whether once involved, we are able to get off the dizzying ferris wheel with all it's fake bright lights; whether we can land without falling and hurting ourselves; whether we are able to come off overcoming the dizziness and see the world around us and all the opportunities around; whether we can feel free and not overwhelmed at the choice and out potential to grow; whether we can ignore how scared we are when we realise our age and wonder whether we invested our time and efforts wisely throughout the past decade, or two.

books, tv and music

It's been nearly a month since the operation. It is usually against my will, but my better judgement knows that complete rest is a no-nonsense requirement issued by my surgeon. Am I bored? No... not really; I have lots of entertainment and mental stimulation with all the books, movies and music I am trying to compose. Restless is a better description for how I feel. A year of trekking followed by this foot up in the air business is kinda tough on me. I long to walk the streets, go to the gym, dance at a nightclub, be able to stand up in the kitchen and cook a meal. This is yet another view of the world... from a chair, and albeit in a very comfortable location in Barcelona. I really cannot complain.

So I am reading a really cool book my Brother lent me called The Devil's Picnic, by a Canadian called Taras Grescoe. I pick it up mid afternoon most days because it is a collection of tales by a mind tickled with the questions of why certain foods, drinks and substances are banned in certain countries, or perceived to be "bad" for you. Ever wondered why raw milk cheese from France or acorn-fed and free range Spanish cured ham is banned in the US? or why on earth chewing gum and soimething as innocent as an M&S poppy seed cookie could get you into jail in Singapore...or why the Swiss are the original creators of Absinthe and would rather it had been kept illegal? These and many other questions are answered by this intriguing and funny book that challenges the establishment and puts a question mark on many of the reasons behind banning or not certain foods and substances. I highly recommend it, no less than for an interesting gastronomic tour of the world.

I've also been engaging, very actively may I add... and fervently, I suppose, in the act of audiovisual passive entertainment, read tv series. I do balance that with very active photographic editing, composing a mini picture/story book of my travels to present to possible editors and composing music on my new midi keyboard and professional microphone. This is what has me all excited now. For now, I can only point you towards one recording available online on http://www.myspace.com/teba2. More to come I hope.

Happy 1st Anniversary..... to me!

Today marks one year, officially. On October 28th 2005, I took a flight bound for Beijing. Granted, I had to stay in London overnight because I missed my connection (so maybe it's mkore like tomorrow....hmmm). Well, since it was the airline's delay, I got some dosh and sprawled out at some airport stores. I just found a sexy little number I bought on that layover... and somehow (very mistakenly may I add), I shipped it back early in my trip. Wasn't it you, Heather, who reminded me that even as a backpacker I should take a nice sexy top and makeup? Shoulda listened to you more. Next time around, because there is a part II to this great adventure, and it's coming up shortly, I'll be packing VERY differently :-)

So...the million dollar question: Have I changed? I don't think people change very much at 30. However, I do believe they can open their eyes and learn new things; become more aware of themselves, their surroundings, their opportunities and their true, achievable dreams. I find myself thinking and doing some things like never before. Water: my awareness and appreciation for water has heightened. When I leave it on while I am brushing my teeth, I think of those people who I saw walking to the nearest water pump to fill their celadon/clay pots; and I turn it off. I could write a whole novel about what I have learnt on this trip. And yet, haven't I already? Well thanks to all of you who read my blog, I know that whether or not I get published, I've already written the bedtime story book for my friends, family and grandchildren to come... with some pretty nice pictures to go with it. I know I can set up my own massage practice, or even a restaurant. I could plan trips for travellers to come. I can sing my way around the world. I realise that I have a world of opportunity beyond the 6 figure salary of the corporate world that I may or may not go back to, but that got me here in the first place, and that's something I am thankful for. So, no.... I haven't changed all that much. I have opened my eyes to things I could not see that clearly before, and therefore I act and react differently. I have renewed dreams, projects, family ties and friends. And that, today, makes me a happy person. Happy 1st anniversary.... to me!!!

the urge to write

The urge to write seems to arrive lately on a monthly basis. I am beginning to think it may have something to do with my hormones. Well, there's yet another thing to think about. That is what being in bed for so long does to ya. Yeah...recovering from surgery and being limited to beds and chairs with a high cushion for my legs and feet for over 2 weeks gives one time to do a lot of thinking... like how drastically my life differs between now and when I was gasping for air on that trek through the Chinese mountains. Just goes to show how one really doesn't know what is lurking around the corner. Mostly, I find it is good things, although sometimes dressed up in really crappy or scary halloween costumes. Speaking of which, I long for a good old dress up halloween party, all inclusive with the stash of trick or treat candy, the sugar high, the devilish dancing and the sexy vampire kisses on the neck. Damn.... it's been too long.

So I'm sitting here in bed, thinking about how the hours pass with me either writing songs about how I feel about ex lovers (they're all kinda desperate and depressing), shopping online for friends who are about to or have already given birth (seems to be a trend with my group of friends lately), or getting up to speed with every good tv show on American network or cable. I do have a mountain of very good books.... can't seem to dedicate that much time to them somehow. Maybe I am a masochist. I also get a lot of ideas about how to present excerpts of this blog to possible publishers (shout if you know any who may be interested), or how excited I'll be once I get a chance to step into a gym again...or a swimming pool. I realise I am a sporty and active being. Speaking of which, I used to have a part-time sport called "too much thining about stuff"... imagine now that it has become a full blown, full-time affair it's just not that fun anymore. Everyone always says that having to turn hobbies into day to day jobs sucks and tkes the magic out of them. There must be some truth to that. I guess that's why it scares me to think about doing anythiing remotely wage worthy with my music or my writing. Other times I dream of just doing that. Should I tell you about the porn movie I've got running through my head involving the sexy crotch-less attire I have to wear around my legs, and how I intend to change the world of underwater wetsuit diving forever after this?... or shock the fish at least? Have I got writer's block or a stunning case of verbal diaorrhea?

OK enough ... Better leave it at this for now.

...on turning 30

*Photos: My Mom, Yiyita at 60, Me at 30*



Turning 30: Had I not taken off traveling for nearly 10 months, I'd feel very differently about turning 30; more helpless, more desperate, more confused. As it turns out though, turning 30 has become a gateway somehow. Everyone I know in their 30's say it's a fab time and beats the 20's...maybe cause they can only look forward to the future and not get too hung up on the joys of the past. but somehow, it feels like they're all onto something, like it's this club with a cool little secret.

So yeah, about this secret, not sure it's a secret at all. It's more about "being all the wiser and truer to yourself". I guess that one bit from Niebuhr's Serenity Prayer now rings truer than ever (and no, I'm not gonna get all religious now or anything)...

"...the grace to accept with serenity the things I cannot change, courage to change the things which should be changed, and wisdom to distinguish the one from the other. Living one day at a time, enjoying one moment at a time ..."

I've grown to love and have fun being with myself, of traveling alone, of reflecting on experiences without the guise of the crowd around me; I love that I can now choose my friends; I love that I can take off partying on my own and have a blast (like that night I went off dancing to Ibiza's "Space" club all by myself! Heck, if I went traveling in Asia for 10 months on my own, how could I pass up on this?!); it's being true to myself about what really motivates me, whether it's pretty or not; it's about making sure I leave nothing "untried". My Mom just turned 60 and she's doing FAB! That means that I have another 30 years of "new life" ahead of me, entering into them from day 1 with full consciousness, ability and impetus.... none of the shitting, crying and sleeping schedule newborns have (what a waste!). I got at least 5 years head start ahead of my previous "birth"! How exciting.

So for me, now is the time to experiment with so many different things on my mind, none of which is a firm plan, like: singing...anywhere anyhow, but seriously; putting music to all the songs I've written and recording some of them; diving in Belize and in Australia; cycling Cuba; getting a US greencard; earning some of my living from giving massage; working as a volunteer with an international aid agency; recovering my Japanese; working out until I get fit as an athlete; skiing down a powdered snow covered slope again.... for now, I'm chilling in sunny Madrid, celebrating being 30.

Sailing

We sailed aboard the "Lisa" last week to the nearby dream island of Formentera. "Juan & Andrea", our favourite restaurant (run by the owners of Pacha club), is a place one could only dream of for a boat outing. Once the anchor hits the white sand at the base of the bay, the restaurant's Zodiac comes to pick you up to sweep you to shore, sailing over cristalline turquoise water I have only seen in Southeast Asia and the Caribbean!

People who arrive by boat get to eat at the tables decked out in the sand, covered by a cream coloured awning that keeps the blinding sun at bay for a few hours of bright shade and superb food. The luxury of digging your feet into the soft sand even while you eat is, I suppose, one of those things only city dwellers really crave. I remember Gai's resort in the Philippines, Pansukian, had all white sand walkways among the garden so that people could walk barefoot in the sand. She confessed to me one day that the locals thought they'd run out of money when they built the walkways, otherwise why would they be of sand?

Ultimately, the boat is still the best way to visit the island's best kept secrets, and one of the best ways to watch the sun set. I miss you, Ibiza.
(pictured in this entry: Es Vedra at sunset, Dalt Vila Ibiza old town by night, Playas del Compte beaches, dusk on the boat, Formentera's Illetas beach)

Ibiza

Ibiza or "The White Island" ("white" because of it's vast expanse of salt pans) is quite the island of pleasure, magic and good vibes! Below is an excerpt from Stephen Armstrong's book "The White Island" which captures Ibiza at it's best:

"... The Carthaginians established a cult there to Tanit, their goddess of sex, around 650 BC and named the Island after Bez, their god of dance. Roman centurions in need of a bit of down time between campaigns would go to Ibiza to get their kicks. And over the centuries virtually every culture around the Mediterranean has used the island either as a playground or as a dump for the kind of people who didn't quite fit in back home, but who you'd probably quite like to meet at a party..." (Stephen Armstrong - The White Island)

How could I not come back for some "down time"? (of course I have been soooooooo busy these past 10 months, that with the stress of living a life of leisure, that I needed to relax for a while!) Well, here I am, enjoying partying ... but mostly, the personality of Ibiza few people hear about. The relaxed, sun-drenched, mediterranean pine-fringed hills, where drinking fine wine overlooking the bay, soaking in the sun, reading and listening to old records and and playing games until the wee hours occupies our time. Our house is an oasis of calm and introspection. From the porch I can smell the trees all around us. As I float in the pool waters every morning, I can almost smell the salt of the pans on the seashore below, and on clear days I geta glimpse of the pearl that is Formentera in the distance. Then night falls in that slow, summer way, and the smell of dusk wraps around me...and I see soloured lights in the distance.... the airplanes taking off and landing... a sight that soothes me, always an invitation to daydream. Where to next? Here...in Ibiza for the time being and thoughts of future I try to keep on the mainland for now. Time will fly no matter what and this will soon become a memory of another beautiful summer gone by. I better make it the best memory it can be!

Pilipinas Pasaporte

It's crazy how the brain stores things in tiny little boxes, and the faintest sound, aroma or tune can throw open the cover and let you re-live... "RE - LIVE". Those are precious moments when we realise how our brain never forgets.

For me, it all began at the immigration queue in Manila. The minute I saw "Pilipinas Pasaporte" and realised how many people indiscriminately pronounced words that had an "F" with a "P" sound (a bit like some Asians do with "R" and the "L"); hearing "M'am" and "Sir" pronounced Pinoy style; best of all: tasting my first bowl of steamed Philipino rice or pancit (noodles). This is when my head became flooded with very fond memories of un revisited since the age of 8. I grew up accompanied by Jenny, my beloved Pinoy nanny, who in her 20's went to live with my family in Spain. Jenny spoke no Spanish at first so I practised my English at home with her. She made pancit for us, and it quickly became a house favourite. And she used to take me to visit her friends some days, who would cook "adobo", "callos", "sinigang" and Pinoy steamed rice, that they brought from home. I suppose I had forgotten the Pinoy influence in my life until 22 years later I set foot in Philippines. I wish I knew what became of Jenny. She must be in her 50's by now, although I will always remember her in her 20's. The mind never forgets, it just stores ...for a while.

to be or not to be....without A/C

Air conditioning.....my love hate relationship with this modern comfort has just been overthrown! I have just realised why I should "never say never".

I've always disliked aricon...mostly cause it dries my skin and throat; sleeping with my gaping mouth open probably doesn't help and I wake up with a cardboard tongue in my mouth! I have also been known to get terribly sick with a cold everytime I've been exposed to it for long periods of time, so I have generally kept away and banned it during sleep. That, ladies and gentlemen (and oh boy will my family love this), has now changed.

The heat in the Philippines is so extreme that last week I woke up in the middle of the night and finally understood what those people mean, who say "it was so hot last night I couldn't sleep!!" ...I mean "really". One of my favourite things in life is for evenings to be so warm and balmy I can lie naked in bed at night, without covers, and doze off..sweat even. But Filipino heat and humidity is a few notches beyond comfort. My best friend is now a pai-pai like fan; a prennial fixture in my bag. Seemingly strong aircon in taxis as you step in seems to fade within minutes. "Going to the mall to get away from the heat" has acquired new meaning and significance for me. I feel like a menopausal woman with hot flashes. I've begun mixing electrolytes into my water as a matter of course cause the sweating is so extreme. I'm surprised I am not half my size by now....then again, baking banana bread on a near daily basis doesn't help in that department. But my skin looks fab. It's like being in a turkish bath 24-7. The other night, attempting to sleep in the same bed with my friend Deb, neither of us could sleep. It was 2 AM, it was HOT and we were hungry too! I offered Deb a frozen slice of toast (not much else around) She made a joke of putting them on her forehead cause it was so hot, and no joke, they thawed in less than 1 minute!! We ended up making popcorn and watching a movie....and vowing to switch on the aircon the following night, come hell or high water!

...and time just flies

It's been almost a month and despite not having updated the blog, I have kept notes in my little pocket book of things I wanted to delve into. Time is running.... fast and furious. I am nearing the end of my 1st leg of the trip...I'll be flying out to Ibiza for August and then celebrating my 30th birthday on Septemebr 14th. PHEW! Good times await. I know it in my heart. But I'll be back on the travel bug at the end of the Virgo month.... know that much.

In the meantime, the Philippines and it's people (Filipinos and foreigners living here) have taken my heart by storm like never before in my travels. I've already renewed my visa twice!...and this was never a country in my plans!!! That is what I love about travelling freely. I just don't know where life will lead, but I am open to going anywhere and everywhere at this point in my life cause I have found things just get better and better. I have felt so at home and welcomed in this country it is quite surreal. I don't know whether it's the old style names like Bonifacio or Epifanio that remind me of home, or the spit-roast suckling pig at feasts and fiestas....or whether it's the honest genuine welcome I continue to receive from total strangers. It's got me in awe. I've been to more parties here than I have in the past 8 months. I've even acquired a new skill (to be revealed when I get to Ibiza) which has got me super motivated and enthralled. I have met more gay men in this country than ever in my life....proving time and time again that even the most catholic of countries can be tolerant of the beautiful diversity the human race has to offer. It is spectacular.

We did a tour of Manila's Chinatown recently, known as Binondo, and had better fresh made dumplings than when I was in China! It was fascinating to tour this quarter of the city, the heart of commerce and business trading during Spanish colonial times. After all, it was the Chinese population that was employed to build and maintain the streets, homes, transport, cities... and to ensure the Spaniards were clothed, groomed, and wore shoes. I've always admired at how industrious the Chinese are. After a while, the Spanish Colonists realised they couldn't live without the Chinese population...and oh what a surprise, that's when trouble started. They got ousted to a ghetto and made to convert to Catholicism (otherwise they were considered heretics or unfaithful to the Spanish crown). Now, I tour Binondo and marvel at the Chinese influences in the most devote catholic churches, at the catholic and pagan themed amulets, at the chocolate factories run by chinese since the Spanish cocoa trade from Mexico, and well....a million more stories....all enhanced with Spanish names of foods, things and people on street corners. One of my favourite pictures taken is of the Binondo Chinese bridge on an American named street with a Calesa (Spanish horse drawn carriage) running past us.
Ahhhh...you ain't seen nothin' til you get to the Philippines. Pictures to come.

Chocolate Hills

Here is a picture of the famous chocolate hills of Bohol. These are uprisings of limestone rock from volcanic action, that have been carved through into these similarly shaped mounds by years and years of water erosion. They are one of the many fascinating natural wonders of this island. Another is the "tarsier" monkey, which is no bigger than the palm of your hand and has the weirdest stare I've ever seen! Lastly, a picture of "Nuts Huts", the nipa hut guesthouse on the Loboc river where I am staying. The view in this picture is from this morning's climb up the hill.

Lakawon island

These are pictures at sunset from Lakawon island, off the coast of Cadiz city in Negros; Carlo, my host, and I on the beach at sunset.

Climbing volcanoes and legs on fire

My dear Canadian friend Janice, whom I met at Walai House had been going on and on about this Thai cellulite busting cream containing chilli peppers that worked wonders. The only drawback, she said, was waking up in the middle of the night to take a cold shower because her legs felt like they were on fire. "But it's working!" her Italian roomate confirmed one day, so thinking they were exaggerating a bit, I indicated I'd be interested in trying it out....particularly as I was heaidng for the beaches of the Philippines where the locals have never seen cellulite before (honestly, with all the fried chicken, pork and rice they eat here, I do wonder what it is that makes their skin so good!). So lovely Janice actually bought me a bottle as a farewell gift before heading off. Not wanting to waste any time, I lathered it on generously the morning of my departure flight to Kuala Lumpur. By the time I had walked down the stairs to the lobby I was dripping in sweat and wondering why on earth I felt so hot. I initially thought it was the hot summer months of Thailand getting to me and thought no more of it. But then after a while, I began to feel the fire through my legs and realised it was the cream. Oh well, I figured, since my legs and feet are always cold, particularly on flights, this would keep me warm...and keep the blood circulation going thus avoiding any of those flight maladies so common these days. (Any excuse'll do!). I actually got COLD on the flight, as usual. The cream "activates" with movement. I ended up on a bus into town, without a seat, and making myself room on the aisle floor of the last row, which is slightly raised and is, lucky me, above the motor. It took me a while to figure out that my profuse sweating on this air-conditioned bus was due more to the cream than to the motor.

My friend Gai stared at me in disbelief wondering how on earth my friend's testimonial had actually convinced me to try this in the first place. Despite the admonition, I secretly continued wearing it... at night... figuring my lack of movement in bed would keep the sweating and heat at bay. One morning, we all woke up early to climb the still active Taal volcano in Tagaytay. We were offered face masks before ascending because apparently the path was dusty and filled with horses taking people up. I bought one at the last minute as we were ready to climb like young trekkers that we are. I also wore my cap....you know, the say you must cover your head to prevent heat stroke, but what about the fact that hats keep your body heat in? It was noon. Once again I had managed to do vigorous exercise at the sun's prime time in the tropics. (China's Tiger Leaping Gorge trek revisited!). I began to sweat buckets...and I mean BUCKETS! Was it the time of day? the cap? the face mask? the socks and trekking shoes? the dust and the horses? I felt HEAT like never before. Indeed 2/3 of the way up I had to stop and got so dizzy I got sick. Being asked by my friends (who probably thought I was just unfit as anything) if I was tired, I honestly replied I was not....but confirmed I felt "very very hot". Of course, it took me a while to realise my mistake. That bloody cream! I had put it on the night before of course, not forecasting that it's 24 hour effects and activation wth movement would come and "bite me in the ass" the following day whilst climbing a volcano, of all things!! I sometimes wonder where my neurons have gone. Of course, my ego prevented me from taking a horse for the last 700 metres of uphill trek. By the time I got to the summit, all I could think about was sitting down and pouring water on myself. I hardly got a glimpse of the volcano's crater and certainly took no pictures.

aaahhh.... paradise

My Brother once told me that the beaches in the Philippines were the most beautiful on earth. I guess he must've learned about that through books and documentaries because he has never been. I think I'll charge myself with the task of bringing the entire family here some day because he was right on the money.

I came to the Philippines, referred in my guide books as "Asia's off the beaten track destination", after befriending three girls (Gai, Sue and Deb). They were travelling through Thailand last Novemeber and we met at the famous Walai House in Chiang Mai. They all live in the Philippines, although only Gai is actually from there. Deb rents a house on the beach and is planning to open a rejuvenation centre, while Gai and Sue both own resorts. They've all found their spot on the paradise and unspoilt island of Siargao, in the far southeast of the Philippines and overlooking the Pacific Ocean. Long promoted as a surfing spot thanks to it's "Cloud 9" reef, it is in fact far more than that; a remote and traditional island, overflowing with mangroves, pineapple and mango plantations, roaming carabau beef and a relaxed and laid back agricultural lifestyle. The towns are small and unpaved; the local roads are in fact the white sand from the beach. Life revolves around the fishing community who head out at sunrise to catch anything from lapu-lapu or milkfish to some of the tastiest mud-crab I've had in my life. It's funny...fish and shelfish is such a common everyday meal here that the real proof of wealth and status during fiesats and celebrations is being able to sacrifice, roast and serve your guests a spit-fire roasted suckling pig called "lechon" or a good old slice of carabau beef. After visiting the famed (and rather commercial and overcrowded) island of Boracay, I can say that having a palm lined, powder white sand beach all to yourself is a luxury beyond belief that invites to early morning sunrise contemplation and yoga facing the ocean. I could live here.

Wrecks and whale sharks

Thanks to our friend Parvin who brought his new underwater camera equipment, we were able to get snapshots of what we saw underwater last week! The first shots are of my friends and I diving a wreck in Puerto Galera. Then, of course, of one of the 5 whale sharks we swam with in Donsol. The experience was out of this world!

Intramuros - Manila , Pilipinas

Here are some images of my day tour of what is left of the old fortified enclave of Intramuros in Manila. At times it felt like I was walking the cobble-stone streets back home. Many of the names on the Jeepneys are still in Spanish and as you can see from one of the images, it is so hot some people have to resort to dropping buckets of cold water on themselves mid-stret!

Kuala Lumpur

On my way to the Philippines, I spent one afternoon and night in Kuala Lumpur. here are some pics of the Petronas Towers that I took at sunset that evening! Very impressive!

Ladies who lunch

I think I am becoming one of those ladies who lunch....at least in the Manila scene! I remember when I used to encounter people shopping or lunching or playing tennis mid-day/mid-week and wondered how they did it. I guess I have found a way to do the same myself...and it is fun! I woke up this morning with a midnight club invitation and not much else planned to kill time in between. Letting the day unravel before me is one of the most fun events these days. In the end, I got swept off my lounging post breakfast mode to "do lunch" at a nearby Pinoy (Pilipino) restaurant owned by friend of a friend. The food was VERY GOOD. Hospitality here is superb. I really feel like I am welcome in their circle. Tomorrow there's another party being thrown to "launch me" into their society of other friends! I feel like I am coming out for my sweet 16! I really don't know what garment I will find in my 6-month-and-still-going-strong backpacker sack that will honour such an event.

Well, this is all fairly recent...in fact a matter of 24 hours because I have spent the past week touring the near Manila locations with my friend Gai. Our whirlwind introduction to Pilipinas started with a culinary tour of the nearby province of Quezon, where we began with a wonderful breakfast in a rural hacienda perched over a creek, owned and decorated by a local artist. Pinoy breakfast: local "longanissa" (sausage), fried rice with fried eggs sunny side up, carabou beef steak, a local salad, grilled fish, another beef cut, more rice, more eggs, an omelette with pork, more rice, more eggs, more meat....phew! My latest thirst quenching discovery: fresh calamanci juice - a local version of fresh lemonade made with a minute but very sweet green lemon local to the islands. We then went on to another artist's studio and home to see his works and watch him make a tantalising appetiser for us: Banana flower caviar with the essence of barbecued coconut. FABULOUS! Lunch was over floating bamboo cottages, and included the staple pork chops, "Jardinera" which is a delicious quiche-like tart made of eggs and pork. BBQ Tilapa fish and local steamed rice. Local sweet desserts were left for later but as we were running late, we did not have time to try them all. All throughout, we visited traditional Spanish colonial churches and mansions, heard stories of beautiful women having to hide out in the basement during the Japanese occupation, and were even serenaded by a local playing Spanish guitar.

The history of the Philippines is quite something. My friend Gai graciously offered me the gift of a local book (The History of the Burgis) with an abridged history of the Philippines told through comics, photographs, newspaper articles and narration from the author...a bit like a scrapbook. During this trip, I seem to be developing an interest in history that I never thought I had. I suppose it is unique to be in an Asian country with so much latin influence....and American, and Malay and Chinese. It is hard to see the rich and the poor so starkly while walking in the old fortified and once grandiose Spanish enclave in Manila. It is hard sometimes to understand how Spain, and the US, and Japan and so many other nations managed to screw other countries as badly as they did. It is sad and sometimes even embarrassing, because as much as the nation is now independent and has it's own self governing problems, I cannot help but think that today's politics and the nation's psyche is in direct effect to the hundreds of years of having been taken advantage of, colonised, occupied and what not. Nonetheless, it is my first visit to a country previously colonised by Spain and now fully independent, and that of course has it's shocks to the system. I can honestly say though, that this is what makes tavelling such a fulfilling and enriching experience for me. The world is a complex and baffling place at the best fo times. However, the beauty of the people one encounters along the way also reminds me of the resilience of the human spirit in the face of hardship, past or present, and that always brings hope and joy to my heart.

Songkran

Chiang Mai's Thai New Year street water fest has inveitably become my benchmark for daytime fun in the sun! (and a welcome respite from the heat!) My friend Janice spotted the sunscreen pack that came with a free waterproof disposable camera at the local drugstore. So away we went, 14 of us on the back of the Walai House pickup truck to parade around the streets of Chiang Mai's old city and drench anyone in sight with a bucket-load of iced water.... or a good old gun squirt! It was, after all, time to get back at all those people who had drenched us at every street corner while we went about our daily motorbike rides along the city during the previous 2 days. The event lasted for days...we personally had enough of the pickup after 4 hours and many stops to pick up water from the moat (which was very dirty, but everyone seemed to be either bathing in or using it for their own waterguns!). I was surprised to emerge from the event without eye, ear or skin infections of any sort. Phew! If not, look at the water from the moat in the attached pictures!

In the afternoons of subsequent days, we took to the foam and water parties taking place 10 minutes from Walai House. I am happy to report that the San Miguel foam party stand was one of the busiest and in my opinion the one with the best jamming music and the funnest crowd! In our drenched and rather see-through clothing, I went from being hosed down by the water hose man every 5 minutes, to lathering myself and those around me in foam. I even had to resort to peeing in my pants in the middle of the street! A feeling I had not experienced siince childhood, and that felt rather fun...of course, with my black pants, and water everywhere in sight, massive crowds and shops shut (thus preventing a fast exit to a nearby toilet or bush) I wouldn't be surprised if half the crowd was peeing in unison at some point! It felt kinda sneaky, embarrassing, and fun at the same time!

Happy Songkran everyone. May this new year bring you all much happiness!

cogno kids

Ok..I've kept the blog hi and dry for a few days. BUT for my sins....I've got some FUNNY and GREAT pictures of being completely SOAKED in Songkran on the streets of Chiang Mai. In fact, the San Miguel foam party stand a few minutes away from our guest house had was by far the best stand around! Will tell more about this on my next entry and load pics too!

In the meantime, I've arrived in Manila (Philippines) for my month tour of the more than 1000 islands here. Well, I won't be going to all of them but I will be going to places like Tagaytay, Vigan, Banaue, Anilao, Galera, Boracay, Cebu, Bohol and Siargao for those of you who like to research online. It's VERY interesting to be in an Asian country that has so much Spanish colonial, Chinese and American influences! Tagalog, the national language, is plagued with Spanish and American words. When you want the driver to go straight, you say "derecho boss"! The funniest thing I've learnt so far is that the Spanish descendants living in Manila are better known as the "cogno kids" cause they use the swear word "cogno" so much...and their schools are cogno schools! Hilarious! the people are beautiful and friendly. Manila is a mish mash of cultures, poverty and affluence, surrounded by enormous shoping malls and little mom& pop corner street cafes. Going for a tour now so will leave you with that. My new phone number here is: +63 921 333 6658

Big kiss and will be loading pics and words shortly!

Beauty thera...masochism!

There's been a lot of detox - retox - detox - retox going on here. So in my quest to return to a healthy-ish lifestyle, obliterating Happy Hut's "Death By Chocolate" cake come mousse..and the recent habit of consuming innumerable rum&coke's at 3 PM, my friend "X" and I (she wants to remain anonymous) discovered a little Thai spot that claims to return our unshapely legs (well, mine more than hers) to their original baby skin SMOOTH state. This, coupled with my early morning tennis lessons and my above mentioned denials, I thought, should do the trick.

So "X" and I have been slipping out to our little teatment cente in secret...of course when we return with aches and pains in our legs and bruises the morning after, I for one have taken to saying I've fallen off my bike again (not such a rare ocurrence for me). So, seeing as I am confessing my mid-afternoon escapades to you, I will also confess that the treatment involves "X" and I stripping into our sexy undies for a 30 minute laughing spree.... where we basically watch each other's fatty bumps get sucked by a vacuum cup! The best part is that the thai girls who massage our butt while this whole thing takes place, must weigh 30 kilos each at the most, and have never even contemplated getting the treatment themselves. The last time we were there, "X" and I were in tears of laughter after seeing that 1) my suction cup broke off the tube...a sure sign the system couldn't take it any longer and 2) "X"'s cup would not disengage from her butt! I thought she'd be sucked away through the tube into this electric machine wired up beside me! Our laughter was contagious and our thai "masseuses" probably thought we were, well, fat but merry!

ANYWAY....we have 2 teatments to go and we've already lost a couple of inches so we're excited! Seeing as we're trying to be healthy and get integrated into our local community, we decided to join the 6PM aerobics session at our very own local sports centre...VERY local! So we got there, all fired up and ready to shake our bottoms and sweat it all out! The place is open to the Chiang Mai heat so the sweating was inevaitable, although we marvelled at the fact that we were the only two "Farangs" sweating there.... well, plus a Thai lady-boy with a few kilos to spare a rare sight indeed! Behind the raised stage for our aerobics teachers (yeah, you get a group of them all at once, like a variety show), was a HUGE sign advertising KFC (Kentucky Fried Chicken)! I don't know if it was subtle hint as in "If you've been to KFC, you know why you're here!" or rather "Come binge at KFC"! Oh well, who cares! The point is we were there and the minute the music began I realised this was gonna be one of those events you remember forever more! I was in my newly acquired sports gear (except for my trekking shoes). The teachers were so slim we could hardly see them in the distance of this massive and rather grey lit gym! The female teacher was surely on some amphetamine overdrive, and she was surrounded by 3 very energetic male teachers, two of whom we were convinced had to be lady-boys cause they loved the hip swirling aerobic moves too much! The music was pretty good stuff...and cranked up at full blast with a double-time-come-chipmunks beat! It took less than 2 minutes to get us laughing, wooing and delivering a pool of sweat like roasting pork! I for one have never been to such a fun and exhausting aerobics session in my life. So much so that I canned my 8 AM tennis lesson this morning! Thanks "X" for making it such a blast and accompanying me in my masochistic exhiliration! We're booked in for the session next Monday. Any takers?

Back for a water fight

"...I'm just back here for a good ol' water fight!", said my friend Shawn recently, of his return to Chiang Mai. I couldn't have put it better myself. The reason I am back is surely the same, although in local lingo the water fight is known as Songkran. This festival is the Thai New Year; the beginning of a new astrological year in keeping with the old lunar calendar of Siam. The festival was originally a series of Buddhist merit-making activities, such as: bringing home cooked food and robes to the monks, gathering sand from the river to deposit at the base of the temple to "raise" it (necessary in old times when the festival was right after the rainy season), or the traditional pouring of water on elders or newly ordained monks while uttering good luck wishes. Well, in true thai spirit, the latter has evolved quite merrily into a 4 day street water fight. One of the owners of our guesthouse, Yo, particularly revels in the wet t-shirt look on the female bunch.

We have been assured a huge tank of water, cooled by tons of ice (a godsend in this 40 degree daytime heat!) on the back of the Walai House pick-up truck. In fact, last night we discussed making some t-shirts for us all to wear. I fear Yo will prescribe the female models be white and not too thick a cotton! Anyway, the festivities will take place from the 12th - 15th of this month, and this truly is the reason why I have returned. Don't expect much mailing form me those days cause the city shuts down and becomes party central! :-) I am looking forward to it....and in the meantime, building up some resistance to the sun by visiting my local swimming pool for some early morning swims.

After 5 months+ of travelling and little working-out (aside from occasional trekking or diving or moto-cross driving ... which for me IS a workout), my body has rebelled in the form of flabby and showy tummy syndrome. I have had many things in my lifetime, but tummy was not one of them, and it sure isn't in my immediate plans. So, my visits to the sports complex have become quite frequent since my return. I am also happy to report that my tennis lessons are paying off. My teacher invited me to venture into the back court and try hitting one ball more than once! Dunno what it was but I took it as a sign of progress. Adding to my self preservation of late, today I visited a nearby beauty salon for some well overdue hair waxing! (no, NOT Porn Hair Studio!). The blog faithfuls among you will probably realise this exciting event has been missing in my calendar since my threading experience in the backstreets of Vietnam (yeah, the one where I got invited to a wedding in the middle of a downpour in Hoi An. I have many theories on the reason for this invitation, namely that the poor woman was so appalled by the amount of hair she had to remove, that she figured if she stitched me up with some bloke at the wedding, I'd take care not to let the monkey effect take over!) Well, all well and good, I now feel quite sexy and much lighter (maybe I should get on the scales!). Thankfully, the swimming pool is olympic size so few people seem to realise there has been a monkey swimming in the lane beside them....or maybe that's why the pool was so empty! Hmmmm

So, for those of you wondering what it is I occupy my day with, well, mostly self grooming and LOTS of hours facing the computer keeping you all in the loop! (I must admit I come here for the daytime air con that is keeping me sane in this heat). Bring on the water! I'm ready for a good ol' soak!

bare feet and other curiosities

I have decided that walking barefoot is not a matter of whether you have money to buy shoes or not. It grounds you, keeps you in better touch with the earth, and quite frankly prevents you from spraining your ankle or breaking your leg whle, for instance, trying to climb up Angkor Wat, or the hill tribe village mud path to the "nature loo". You may think I have been doing too much Reiki, Yoga and chakra work. Well nothing like too much fo that, but this really stems from my continuous habit of removing my flip flops to climb through the countryside. It's just so much easier and my balance is so much better. Of course, it's so darned hot here (35 degrees and not even April yet!) that wearing anything other than open toed flip flops would be pure lunacy. I used to always walk around barefoot when I was a child. I have taken up that old habit again, particularly because in Asia, no shoes are ever allowed inside the house, the shop, and most commercial outlets that are not in a big city. Nice! You even get special flip flops to get into some public toilets

I also enjoy getting tamarind paste candy on my flights. It's certainly better than some stale cracker...or these days, nothing at all. It's the grace of Asia that has charmed me; the people bowing at each other with their hands in prayer, smiling from the heart, moving gracefully through their lives, dressing in their traditional garments, eating seasonal foods, coming to life on the street, mingling with each other in the evening night bazaars, welcoming the foreigner, talking to anybody on the street just to practise their newly learned language or to find out simply where you are from....I could go on and on.

For now, I will tell you about one of the many things I plan to export back to my country and install in my toilet. It's the "chorro", or in English, the water jet to clean your ass everytime you go to the toilet. This thing, my friends is a GOD-send! It is a hose attached to the water main that appears magically in every WC I have encountered, public or private, across most of the Asian countries (bar China) I have been to. It hangs inconspicuously beside the water cistern, with a switch on the end to activate the power jet of water that will clean away EV-ER-Y-THING! Forget about wet wipes, toilet paper (which in most parts of Asia is actually served on your dining table as a napkin!) or bad underwear days! The water jet is THE FUTURE! And this my friends is shared by every single male and female traveller I have encountered....well, with some people that is once they realise the thing isn't to clean their dirty feet. I tell you, these Asians are onto something. Pictures to follow.

Aaaahhhh Luang Prabang

I think I have discovered my 2nd favourite place in South East Asia: Luang Prabang, Laos. I have also rekindled my joy of travelling alone, reading my book over a cold drink in a terrace, or just wandering aimlessly awaiting to be surprised and lured into the hidden nookks of this sleepy, colonial town surrounded by water.

I sit tall above the sandy banks of the Mekong river while I eat Laab, my new favourite Asian food, and watch 5 young boys playing rope and falling in and out of the waters of the river. They don't know I am watching, peeking, getting a glimpse of their life and being transported back to my sleepy summers in Spain where life was slow, careless, the days were long and hot, the nights warm, the air fresh, the sound of crickets inundating the voices of the air...day and night. When the boys tire of their games and laughter, they walk up to a garden patch and steal some fruits before running off home. I sit, privy to this life, in the terrace by the riverbed, and I while away watching time go by with a cold lemongrass tea in hand. I have rented a bicycle and cycled through the small cobbled lanes, amidst trees dropping their fragrant flowers on the ground, hidden wats with golden columns, red brick roofs, white washed walls and that quiet air the monks breathe, with their saffron colored robes and their golden skins basted in the Lao sun. I see women washing the dishes in their plastic buckets on the floor, or preparing "nems" or fresh rolls in the shade of a tree overlooking the river. It is 3 in the afternoon, the sun comes down hard and the 38 degrees turn life into slow motion.

And then I stop and realise there is no noise around me....but the town is humming. The old colonial homes overlooking the dirt lanes stand tall; newly repainted, restored and looking proud, yet without pretension, over their neighbouring traditional Lao homes and guesthouses with their brick bottom and wooden top floors, pointed roof and shaded upstairs balconies. They live harmoniously, surrounded by the quietness of a town that was (and in my mind still is) the capital of Laos. People all amile at you as you go by, kids all wave and even say "hello", everyone is relaxed because really, why rush? Willing to please but never insistent, Lao peoples watch life go by and enjoy the quietness of their town of cycles, motorbike tuk tuks and the odd car. Warm, fragrant, lulling.....this is Luang Prabang.

And then, night falls, and the town comes to life with a food night market, with fresh Mekong river fish on the grill, satay pork, noodles galore, baguettes with all manner of fillings (a legacy of the French colonial times) and of course stalls and stalls of Lao Beer and freshly baked cakes. Then you happen upon the women who underneath their colourful parasols illuminated by a hanging lightbulb, sell you a world of fresh fruit; freshly cut papaya picked from the local trees, blood red watermelons, juice dripping pineapples, luscious mangoes, or the pernnial mound of Tamarinds found on every corner. The night market also brings the main road to a standstill.... it sets up on the road with stall after stall of old opium pipes, wooden carved hangers for your newly acquired silk woven fabric, women sewing under the dim light of a lightbulb the design of the bed cover displayed before you, young girls offering colourful Beer Lao t-shirts, and maybe even some local coffee bean or tea leaves to brew for breakfast. And just before midnight, we all tuck away in bed, after a well deserved cold shower and with the purr of the fan on our face. We dream and sleep until the early dawn of the next day, filled with more wandering and discovering parts of the river not explored, finding an old bookstore and sitting on their bamboo low stools to read through titles of your favourite or newly discovered authors, exchanging finished novels for new stories, or perusing the travel book section to find the hidden treasures yest to see. And then maybe, for sunset, consider climbing up to the Wat perched on the hill inside town as the ruby red sun sets over the waters of the mighty Mekong river, that has made it's journey all the way from the highlands of Tibet to this Gem of a place called Luang Prabang.

New-age Nun spotted cycling into an electric storm

I am in Van Vieng now, after a fairly horrid bus ride up. This was regional bus loaded full of potatoes, parsely, noodles, spring onions and what not on the back seats. Nope, surprisingly, they left the chickens behind. However, yes, it was one of those buses that looks like a steel boz, with the ladder crawling up onto the roof where everyone's bags lie in equilibrium, dodging each bump and attempting not to fall....there were bikes, rubbish bins, all manner of artefacts travelling on the roof. But back to the seating situation, all this food meant I couldn't sit properly. I have restless legs (well, actually, I am restless generally). So I end up putting my bare feet atop some pile of stuff covered in newspaper. Turns out, it was a pile of noodles (I mean why do these people carry the stuff half way up the country anyway?? i there's one thing that proliferates in SE Asia it's fresh food markets!) So I got a very evil look from the woman as she stepped off the bus, although she seemed to have forgotten she was literally toppling over me as she dozed away half way through the journey AND not one or two, but three of the back rows were overflowing with her shopping list. At this stage I couldn't care less, particularly because by now it was 3PM and I had not eaten since 8AM.....and I couldn't eat any of her stuff cause it was all ingredients...although the menu concoctions I was coming up with in my head get 1st prize for inventiveness. I admit, when I realised I was stepping on noodles, I actually tried to steal some of them and eat them, I was sooo hungry. But I feared getting caught by this Lao chick sitting next who didn't sem to ever fall asleep completely so my attempts at food thievery were sabotaged every time! Desperate times call for desperate measures. The one thing I actually really enjoyed was listening to some authentic and traditional Lao music playing off the speakers, and the fact that we arrived safely after 5 hours of sweltering, non A/C bus riding WITHOUT pit stops, unless you consider pulling over on the side of the dirt road for less than 7 minutes. I didn't fancy everyone seeing your bum while I peed so I kept it in. Anyway, I need to motivate to get on the next bus (which will this time be an A/C VIP affair) to Luang Prabang.

The reason for stopping in Vang Vieng, aside from breaking up the journey, was mostly to visit this Singaporian dude who tops up your iPod; 30 albums of your choice (well, from what he has already got) for 20 USD! Considering my Mac got stolen back home and I've grown quite tired of a lot of the crap I have, this is the best money spent on music....I'm getting a bunch of dance stuff too, which I am excted about. Anyway, aluuding t the title of this entry, I arrived here yesterday and at 8 PM was not just drenched, but quite literally swimming in my own clothes, after only walking 10 steps to my bike from this iPOD place. A MEGA electric storm come hurricane landed on our doorstep! I HAVE NEVER experienced anything like it in my life! I felt like some neighbour had decided to throw 10 buckets of water on me ALL AT ONCE and without warning, and then, for laughs, Put me behind a helicopter so I could get "wind". Needless to say, I was forced to seek refuge in the first restaurant I stumbled upon and strip naked for fear of catching pneumonia. I covered myself in 3 table cloths, each one tackier than the next. I swear, it was a sight to behold. I ended up striking conversation with a Frenchman who gladly supplied more tablecloths (in an attempt to catch a glimpse of my bra methinks). Just kidding; he was a real sweetie. After about an hour and a half, and many a lightining later, I ventured out into the subsiding rain, still in my restaurant wear and with my wet clothes hanging of the backseat fo the bike. The Frenchman had managed to also secure me what appeared to be a waterproof piece of cloth. He tied it around my neck so as t cover my head Nun-style. I looked quite dashing, flying away in the darkness of the dirt road, rain falling upon me, sinking into invisible puddle after puddle, lightning rods illuminating my way every few minutes like neon light.....I swear I figured if I collapsed or slid and showed the skies my bare, red brick mud-covered ass, well then maybe they'd get scared enough to stop all this fuss and leave us earthlings alone for a bit.

I returned safely to the comfort of a hot shower and a warm bungalow overlooking the river. Did I mention I am sharing it with an Israeli girl who approached me when I arrived? It was bizarre but she was kind of stranded and is in fact a very nice, sweet, honest girl. She's religious, only eats kosher food, and therefore travels with a butane gas burner and pots! Whatever! I felt kinda bad this morning as I wolfed down bacon and french bread in her presence. But DUDE, this morning yoga gets my tummy growling! More on my yoga retreat next time.

the infamous bike

This is Teba's ass grilling bike (I dared not photograph the one I trashed).

Fearless

When was the last time you did something new; something you thought you'd never, ever try? In fact something you had never even thought about?

Well for me it was riding on a moto-cross bike for 110Km on a red brick dusty gravel road out to Sihanoukville beach in Cambodia. Yes, Cambodia also has beaches! Chris and I used Kampot (from where some of the world's best black pepper comes from) as a base to move around the south of Cambodia and as it turns out, rented moto-cross bikes for touring. Now, let me describe this to you because it is not as straight forward as it may seem. I, for one, recently crashed an automatic scooter on a paved road in Chiang Mai....fairly easy riding conditions. Moto-cross bikes are those rough and ready things with the motor exposed, that measure a height nearly up to my shoulder and have all manner of very "manly" artefacts attached to them...like those colourful suspension tubes and such. They're usually noisy and full of dust or dried caking mud and have all kinds of switches, buttons and gears that one...well this one, believed she'd need a pilot's license to drive one.

So when we got to the bike shop and I realised what renting 250cc bikes really entailed, I sort of looked around and expecting the film Director to come out and say "CUT!". What on earth was I thinking when I agreed so fervently and enthusiastically to Chris on this?! Well, as it turned out, Chris got a spanking new bike (cause he's about 2M tall) that literally reached my boobs in height. And to my surprise, they had another "smaller" one pour moi! Well, well, it was standing in the middle of the shop looking like...wait! no! it WAS being seriously repaired. But alas no, they rented it out to me without hesitation. There was only one back blinker...and it was hanging off. When I pointed it out in my routine check (what check? I didn't even know what the hell I was checking for here....as if!) they nodded, smiled and said no problem. Then I figured they'd prevent me from renting the minute they realised I didn't even know how to start the damned thing. But alas, no again, they encouragingly gave me the 2 minute Cambodian crash course, confident in my ability to master the art in no time. May I kindly remind you that I have only ever ridden a gear shift bike once before; on Samui island 6 weeks ago, and the gears were straightforward and on the foot...it was a scooter after all. Chris intervened and made me feel better by telling me how easy it was, similar to the gear scooters but with a couple of differences and a bit like riding a gear shift car. I'm European. I drive gear shift back home. How hard could it be huh? So there's a clutch (which for all those of you non-riders like me, is what we would normally relate to as the left hand brake on the handlebar). Anyway, this thing starts in neutral, which is some random position between 1st and second gear on the foot... yeah, NOT like a gear shift car! There's supposed to be a light that shines on the display panel...but my bike's panel was pretty much inexistent so after about 3 dozen stalls, I managed to get the hang of getting started, putting it into 1st and riding off like Lucky Luke.

Well, after some hesitation, I got a surge of adrenaline (and quite some testosterone that appeared out of nowhere) and I was off, with my super cool helmet, my moto-cross bike and ready to face anything, cause I am a cool chick, and I try new stuff and life is all about this, isn't it?! Well, first off, I somehow spaced out about what 100Km really means. After riding for so many Km's on rickety roads and minibuses, it seemed like something quite achievable. Only when almost an hour had gone by on that red brick dusty gravel road, and we stopped to catch our breath and I realised we'd only done about 30Km, did I realise 100Km is about 30% further than our old country house, Aldeallana, from where I lived in Madrid.....and it takes almost and hour doing a good speed on a paved highway! Well lesson learnt, late for lamentations, and with a shakiness on my hands and arms that I thought would launch me into a seizure (if not that, the heat of the day cause by now it was 2 PM and about 40 degrees), we continued on down. There I am riding into the Cambodian skyline, fearless, in 4th gear, thinking I am the coolest thing ever, when all of a sudden the bike's humm dwindles down to a wheez and stops. I pull over and think, "well, let's see how long it takes Chris to look back and see I'm not with him". I manage, somehow, to get it started again and continue on, but about 15 Km further on, it does it again. At this stage I start getting peeved off and realised the bike shop has taken advantage of my novice condition. I've been given a bike that needs repair and who knows if I'll ever make it to the beach. It's now 3PM, I am sweltering, exhausted, the coolness of the event is turning into hot headedness and my bowels are beginning to complain...Did I mention Chris and I got food poisoning and had spent the best part of the last 48 hours preaching to the porcelain god or else shitting our brains out on it? Well, thankfully, sharing all these intimacies together, we also seemed to appreciate the joint pit stops and attempts at signing our way to the nearest hole in the floor to pay our respects. The best one was the motor garage where, thinking back, I should've gotten a full bike check up.

Anyway, after stopping in it's tracks one last time, we finally approached Sihanoukville coast. Oh bless, the cool breeze seemed to penetrate my helmet somehow and I began dreaming of stripping my clothes off like Sophia Loren and plunging into the water, triumphant music playing, cocktail awaiting on my return......... when clack clack clack clack clack....the bike stops and I sense something is REALLY WRONG with it now...like, the f***ing chain has come off!!!!!!! It is now 4 PM, I am STILL sweltering but the sun will not be out much longer and my dream image of the water is dissipating into a nightmare afternoon of trying to sort out this bike with the garage, or more importantly, figuring out how I'll get back home (and may I remind you that these events are all accompanied, in silence, but very presently, by intense bouts of diaohrrea!)

So, sensing my desperation and near faintedness, or maybe seeing me collapse on a shaded bench on the roadside hardly able to speak (or bark, as it was at this stage)Chris takes over. He calls the garage, arranges to meet them at the bike's spot of demise in 2 hours, and sorts everything out. It's 5 PM by the time we get to the beach, and my dream is realised with a beautiful sunset, a banana coconut iced shake and, bless my luck, a Cambodian masseuse offering to give me a good old rub-down while I recover from this gamble.

Chris and I ended up returning at 10PM on his bike....I thought I would get killed, if not by the random cows venturing out into the pitch-black roads, then by the road trucks without tail lights lining the return path to Kampot. Or was it that I was sitting on the back of a moto-cross bike (again for those of you non riders like me, moto cross bikes are for 1 person only - the back is a collection of metal bars that look like a grill and that I have yet to figure out what they-re for, cause they certainly arent's a roasting board for my ass!). And to end this story, I will confess that as we rode back in the night, and I observed how Chris used his clutch (oh yeah...THAT thing he spoke about at first), I realise I haven't been clutching at all when changing gears! Oh Dear!

Ta Prohm, Ban Ti Srey, and Bayon....

I enjoyed 3 other temples far more than Angkor. Firstly, Ta Prohm. I did not realise until a few days before leaving Chiang Mai that it had been featured in one of the last scenes of Tomb Raider! So, if you want to check out the look and feel of the place without coming all the way over, rent the movie and skip to the last scenes! The overgrown tree roots over the brick ruins of this far out place are eerie. In fact, the day we visited we were almost alone and taking off independently, my amusement grew into some kind of strange feeling of solitude, creepiness and loss. I had to find my way back searching for the sunset! Ban Ta Sraey, 37km north of Siem Riep, was one of my favourite temples. It is exquisite; small, approachable and with a marvel of intricate and well preserved bas reliefs! The red brick colour of the stone is quite different to the generally greyish green ageing stone of the other temples. Lastly, of course, Bayon.....the temple of the many faces! Spot them in the pictures! Again, awe inspiring structures where I wonder how on earth they could lift these stones and create such images without modern tools. The beauty of it all is that they are still so well preserved that many locals continue to use them for prayer. So at Bayon, I lit some incense and prayed for everyone I know.

Angkor Wat

Did you know that Cambodia is 1.5x the size of England? Well that's what the Rough Guide says anyway. It turns out that 1/3rd of the population was wiped out under Khmer Rouge rule between the 70's and 80's and especially during the Killing Fields genocides.

Well, I know I promised to write about Angkor Wat so here it goes. Angkor Wat is actually the name of only one of the many religious temples that make up the complex, albeit the one that appears in most books and ...most people know the whole thing as Angkor Wat but there are tens and tens of temples built between 800's and 1200's during the glorious Angkor era. This, my friends, is indeed one of the Marvels of the World....much like the Egyptian Pyramids of Egypt, the Indian Taj Mahal, or the Aztec and Mayan ruins in America. When I came up close to see the sheer magnitude of size and intricate carvings that these temples boast hundreds of years later and understanding they were built with sweat and blood (and no cranes or cement) I am baffled! They say Angkor Wat itself took over 30 years to build. The interesting thing about all these temples is the Indian influence in the design, architecture, carvings/bas reliefs and overall feel. At this time there was a lot of trade and exchange with India. Angkor is a tribute to Shiva and is surrounded by a massive moat. More than once I managed to loose Chris inside the temple itself, to which we had to return on the 4th day because it is so big! What impressed me most at Angkor were the steep steps that led up to the main temple which believe you me, were no easy task to accomplish. I for one kept removing my flip flops just to ensure that like a monkey, I had a good grip on the rocky surface and could climb up the uneven set of more than 30 steps to the top. The views over the city and the forest are breathtaking.

Arriving in Cambodia

Arriving in Cambodia by bus and Aki Ra's War of the Wars Museum Siem Riep

Returning

Returning.....chapters end and new beginnings await. Cambodia has been like a book I randomly pick up and read through sleepless nights until I sadly turn the last page; re-reading the last line, frantically looking for more text somewhere in the last blank pages....hoping and wondering why the book has ended so fast; longing to go back in time and read it even more calmly, savouring every line, every paragraph...every moment; surprised at how much I have enjoyed a book I had been putting off for some time; putting it down calmly, with joy and satisfaction at having experienced it, reminded of the tears and the laughter it has brought to me. Cambodia has been this book.

When I first set out on my trip, my brother Luis and my friend Kevin said "don't miss Angkor Wat", and I wondered..... Angkor "what"? Angkor Wat, I found out, is only one of the many sublime temples in the Angkor complex in Cambodia, and one of the well deserved wonders of the world. I dabbled with dates and plans to go there, since Angkor is not too far from Bangkok, but it was never the right time. And then the 25th of February rolled along. I had heard stories, good and bad, about travels in Cambodia and secretly hoped to travel accompanied, ideally by a man, who would look out for me. And so along came Chris, a fire-fighting pilot from Canada on holiday in Asia for a month. He came to Chiang Mai to learn thai massage and was ending his Asian travels with a 10 day trip to Cambodia. We met at Walai House, and after my friend Gai and I tore the poor guy apart with sarcasm for hours on end, we realised that not only could he take our sense of humour (and see right through it), but that he was actually a genuinely nice guy, despite the tough exterior. Chris and I would soon embark on a 10 day intense journey through the dust filled flatlands of Cambodia, with the rising heat from the ground, and the recent violent history of this beautiful country still tangible in the air.

You know I like to pick events and delve into them a bit, instead of giving you a long list of where we went and what we saw. Cambodia, however, may take more than one entry to do it justice. It is there that I learned that while I was wiling away learning the periodic table in high school or even graduating from University, young kids under 12 were still fighting to survive, forced to plant landmines, or trying to escape the horrors of Pol Pot's genocides. It is here that I have seen for the first time, tens of people, mostly teenagers, maimed.....maimed for being kids running in rice fields, only to find a plastic round container they thought was a toy, that ended up blasting in their face, their arm or their leg. I realise that the chills this reality brings before me is what drives me to travel. There's nothing like travel to teach me history...or spark curiosity in a country I never knew anything about.

Land mines - remember Princess Diana's Halo Trust? It fights against land mines around the world. It all starts to make sense when I get to Cambodia and walk into Aki Ra's War of the War museum; an open air wooden shelter in the fields outside Siem Riep, filled with de-activated shells of landmines, hand grenades, and other horrific inventions of war created to maim and kill. The walls are complete with statistics about the millions of landmines still active in Cambodia, the countries who still manufacture these artefacts, the countries who's incidence of maiming from landmines is highest. Cambodia is in the top 5. Aki Ra's story is quite unique to me. A Cambodian kid who's parents are killed by the Khmer Rouge and who is then forcibly enlisted to fight for them....only a kid. A few years later, in an ambush, the Vietnamese take him hostage and make him fight on their side...against the same people he fought with before. All this time, he is also forced to lay landmines in the fields of Cambodia. Years later, when the conflict finally ends in the late 80's, Aki Ra begins to realise the amount of kids who die or are rushed to hospital every hour of every day in Cambodia for having stepped on a landmine. He sets up a centre to help support these kids with schooling in English, a home and shelter and a job, and turns to the fields with a team of locals, every day since, to de-activate the same land mines he was forced to plant as a child. Aki Ra is not much older than I am.

And so Chris and I meet Aki Ra in person that day, while he is filming for a documentary...and ask him about his work and how we can help. His English comes in spurts...but his look of gratitude is evident. We can join hime anytime...but maybe Halo can give us some training first. Chris and I eventually cycle out 16Km on a rickety bike without gears, with the heat pounding on our heads and only a respite of shade from the occasional palm tree lined country lane, all the way out to The Halo Trust to find out about their work and whether with proper training, we could volunteer to help. It's a hot Saturday afternoon and work is over for the week. We get the Director's business card with a warm smile of encouragement. When you ride through the brick red dust of the countryside, watching the stick thin cows feeding in the dry fields, hearing children laugh as they bathe in dirty brown waters, taking snapshots of young teenagers fishing for whatever they may find in the roadside pond of water lillies, you understand that these people can make a living if you can offer the help to clear their land and make it safe.

There are many children in Cambodia...nothing like the one-child natality controls of China....because here the Killing Fields and the Khmer Rouge regime wiped out one third of the population less than 30 years ago. Yes....there are many other stories to tell....some sad and hopeful like this one, some to do with "happy" (ganga) pizza. That'll be the next one, and maybe I'll throw in a bit about the temples of Angkor!

OK from Cambodia

I am OK, thanks. I promise to write about my 10 day trip to Cambodia and Angkor Wat within the next 72 hours. It'll be a long one with lots of pictures!!! Love you all and keep writing!

quote

I know I've neglected the blog a bit...hope you're not too mad! But I've been having such a goooood time! In fact, my recent release from not only P&G but the parsley juice diet that nearly killed me from apathy last week has given me a surprising energy boost I've been capitalising on! As my firend Gai says...."after the detox...re-tox!". So it's been margaritas and late nights for a while! haha! I've got some fun pictures to share. But before I do, I have to write down the latest quote that has taken me aback...

"Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness, that frightens us.
You playing small does not save the world; there is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people will not feel insecure around you.
We were all meant to shine as children. It's not just in some of us, it's in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give peopole permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others."
(from the film Coach Carter)

Unemployed and starved

Well, I have officially called it quits at P&G. I feel like I have just ended a 7 year love affair, it feels good, with the very occasional reminscense. I think the real adventure, the unplanned bit, has just started. The cooking, massage, diving, trekking.... it was all part of the time off. But when Feb 2nd rolled along and when I was not on a plane from Mumbai to Barcelona, I realised I'd just walked into a new sweet shop and didn't know what candy to choose.

My Father once said "the more you learn, the more fun you'll have". So here are some of the unplanned new things I'm experimenting with:
1) Falling off my motorbike to make love to the asphalt
2) "Hello-I'm-29-out-of-shape-and-wanting-to-learn how-to-play-tennis" therapy to flaunt my sexy purple bruised legs to a middle aged, teeny, muscly, thai instructor who claims to have trained the Princess (what-ever!)
3) A 5 day ayurvedic kidney cleanse. So, the very appealing liquid menu of coriander and parsely juice and potassioum broth made from carrot and potato shavings makes me think there's an ulterior motive driving me to do this. Could it be that I get pampered and massaged for the best part of 3 hours? First, one hour of foot reflexology on my kidney point with some sesame oil. Of course, my love of my feet has increased ten fold now that they are tanned and well oiled during this treatment! Then I get kidney, bladder and large intestine massage with reiki. It all takes place as I lay on a beautiful batik covered mat overlooking a lush Thai garden. Well at least it makes me forget for a while that I haven't eaten properly in the past 48 hours. Today, seeing I was losing it a bit, I got pity food in the shape of coconut water! From what I remember to be a rather insipid drink, I never thought something could taste so glorious! I even got 7 shavings of actual coconut in it, which I savoured like cuts of the best angus beef around ... priceless!

Road rage? What road rage?

Road rage, I think, is a Western or "Farang" concept. Here in Thailand, and in Vietnam and in China for that matter, it just doesn't exist. It takes some getting used to people honking their horn at you when they're going to pass you. It's a way of letting you know they're there....so you can move out fo the way and let them through. It has nothing to do with me or my driving, whether on a bike, motorbike or car. Ok so it takes a while to not turn around in a fuss on scream "WHAT!!!!!" at the fellow driver, who has no clue what you're so worked up about.

Driving amidst a swarming sea of motorbikes, cyclists and tuk tuks makes drivers very aware of their surroundings. The trick is advancing without hitting anything or anybody, but advancing nonetheless. There is respect on the road. What I love the most is when you make a mistake, or drive the wrong way and come up to someone, in Thailand you receive a companionship smile. It rubs off and eventually you realise people are not out to get you, cut you off, or race you. People re just going about their business, and like you, are sometimes in a rush, sometimes on cloud nine, and sometimes just want to get on with things like the rest of us. What a different and beautiful concept. It is quite harmonius....that is of course until someone forgets to look as they pull out of a parking spot, making me loose control of the bike in my attempt to avoid them and end up on the floor, with a very bruised thigh and praying quickly that the brakes I hear screeching behind me will stop just in time to avoid a human pancake. The next thing I know, the cars have disappeared, and I am being helped up by my friends and a couple of foreigners, plus the stares of a few business owners around. No worries, my lucky star was out there protecting me. In the meantime, I continue to ride the bike, but on the other lane this time....it's funny how I am more trusting of the vehicles moving than of the ones standing still.

So life goes on, 3 and 4 a piece continue to ride their bikes, and interestingly, parents with helmets, carry infants without helmets. How does that work? Is it lack of awareness, folly, or a trust of the drivers around them. Apart from my own, I have not yet seen a traffic accident in the 3 months I've spent travelling. Knock on wood, this will be the last one!

Lady-boy

The first time I was served by what appeared to be a man, but dressed as a woman, with lady mannerisms and with boobs, I was intrigued. Where I come from, this is usually an occurrence in a drag show, gay pride festival or in a bachelor(ette) party type restaurant. Here in Thailand, it is as common as getting massage. Amazing Thailand! How can you not love this place!?

In Thailand these boys or men who are "trapped" in a lady's body are woven into the fabric of everyday life and society, which is why you encounter them serving you anything from a Margarita, to the most expensive seafood at a top restaurant. I suppose they abound in Western culture too, but in some underworld I was never too exposed to. The only exception is Mejias, the "cleaning lady" at my old office in Madrid who tried to hit on my brother once, and who would show up in platforms, pseudo-leather mini skirts, and feather boas at 4 PM sharp, only to change into drab blue cleaning outfits that did not disguise the very male body beneath...no matter what amount of mascara and blush he(she) chose to wear that day.

Here, lady boys look, act and feel like women. In fact, I dream of having some of the bodies I've seen them sport. The other night we decided to go to "SIMON"; a lady-boy show here in Chiang Mai. As it turns out, Simon is a chain in Thailand. This spot, in particular, is located side by side with my local supermarket. It has a lavish display of flowers and palm trees at the grand entrance and best of all, a HUGE picture of the King gracing the entrance and visible at least half a mile away. I actually thought the place was like a tropical garden or zoo when I first passed ... royally appointed for that matter. Never farther from the truth!

This show is something else! The auditorium is open air and has not one but three stages; all with elaborate sets ranging from an Egyptian palace, to the deepest African Jungle or a Chinese Pagoda. 60 lady boys dance around, some dressed as women, others as men....but all with stupendous costumes worthy of an Oscar! I couldn't help but laugh because they actually don't sing....they're lip-singing to a karaoke tune...or a well known foreign song, like when they took some Paulina Rubio song in Spanish and turned the stage into a "tablao flamenco". Bizarre. How can I describe these petite asian men wearing male flamenco pants, torero outfits, or better yet, a full blown female dress worthy of Isabel Pantoja? The sound was appallingly bad, which more than being a shame, added to the kitschness fo the affair. I was in stitches, particularly when a plumper and far less attractive, half naked man with fake balloons for boobs, took my friend Sean by the hand and onto the stage. Before Sean had time to react, the lady boy had jumped onto Sean's waist, legs hugging him and red lips leaving kiss marks all over his face! The cast kindly join you in the parking lot for a final farewell, posing as if in a contest to get the best "farang" to pick them for a picture, and abundant requests for tips. This is where I got to see, close up, some of the most amazing lady boy bods in Chiang Mai. As soon as I get copies, I'll post the pics!

Amazing Thailand

Amazing Thailand. Yesterday I learnt how to ride a manual motorbike on Samui Island. I was there for a 5 hour layover awaiting my flight to Bangkok. I nearly burnt my ankle a couple of times trying to change gears (I mean, the hot motor is beside the gear shift...whoever thought of that!) and ended up in the southern tip of the island at a tropical butterfly garden. I missed not having the time or inclination to spend more money on Tamarind Spa's natural boulder steam bath with essential oils....I gotta recover from the 5 star luxury one nighter of Jhamakiri! But that leaves me a reason to return. That, and the airport. Picture this: Terminal 1 looks like a boutique resort; wooden buildings and thatched roof, massage corner, shop, complimentary frozen shakes, cakes and snacks, free internet access and little amusement-park looking mini trains that transfer you from the "terminal" to the aircraft. All surrounded by palm trees and lots of ceiling fans. Security didn't allow me to take many pictures.

The luxe of air travel would soon be replaced by Bangkok flyovers, train station showers and another overnight train, this time back to Chiang Mai. Yes...I've returned! I couldn't help it. This place seems strangely familiar. So yesterday I paid another 20cents for a public shower while the guys at reception watched my big bag. The minute I dried myself with my travel towel, I was sweating again...Bangkok is HU-MID! With no full moon parties happening nearby, this time I secured a berth on the night train. But my favourite part was entering the restaurant wagon. The minute I slid the door open, I was transported into a Thai disco; colourful flashing christmas lights everywhere, lots of friendly faces, and best fo all staff who were virtually dancing to the beat of what I can only describe as very loud and happy traditional thai village fest music remixed by a DJ for a double beat effect. (Jota de Fuentemilanos "in the mix"). I sat down on one of the spare vynil pull down seats and smiled. This promised to be a good evening. Despite my general distaste of beer, I agreed to purchase a bottle of Singha from the waiter who quickly and very eagerly offered to share it with me. I thought he was joking...after all, a Rail-police-come-inspector looking man was sitting right behind us. But alas no, not only did he bring me a HUGE half litre bottle, but he also brought another glass and helped himself...thank goodness! Beer in hand, I looked out the open window and felt the warm air run through my "little" hair.

I don't know why I like travelling by train at night so much; I never get any sleep! I always think the carriage wobbles so much we must be derailing! Either that, or I'll conk out and miss my stop. But I think the adventure of the train lures me. It reminds me of when I used to sleep in the bunk beds of Aldeallana and cover the bed all around me with blanket. There are always people willing to talk, play cards, hang out reading a book, or share a beer.

Luxury

I'm tired of the ghetto. As my sister says, "where's the cabanna boy?". I just want somewhere without roaches, please!!! So...my friends Sean & Jib came to see me and we sprawled out on Koh Tao's most luxurious resort for one night only: The Jhamakiri Spa & Resort. A view to die for, clean comfy sheets, jacuzzi and 360 degree views of the sea! I can take only so many months of roughing it.