Zelma’s Trip

Just before I do some hideous injustice at summarising my first three months or so I guess I should explain that by the general term of South East Asia I am referring to Vietnam, Laos, Cambodia, Thailand, Malaysia and Singapore. I am also not professing to be talking about the entire countries and histories here, just that which I have experienced. Okay enough of that preamble now.

Transport

Driving and Roads.

As you may have gathered the roads in South-East Asia aren’t the same as in England. There generally appear to be no obvious rules except one, the largest vehicle has right of way.

Scooters and motorbikes….

….are everywhere! I got close to hiring one on more than one occasion and each time was saved from doing so by seeing either an accident or someone who had been in one. You see so many Westerners with either exhaust burn scars or more serious ones and nearly every Westerner can tell you either a horror story about an incident they have had or a friend has had or seen. Other than the horrific accident with two fatalities on the way back from Halong Bay I also saw two locals writhing around in pain next to the road having clearly just come off their motorbikes in Ko Samui. I think that my conclusion that my life and skin are precious was a good one which prompted the decision -not- to hire a scooter. Having said that I did go on the back of enough of them. When I got on the back of the guy’s scooter who showed me round Phuket I told him I was a nervous passenger and he said he had never had an accident. Later on one of the beaches I noticed he had a fair few scars. As I pointed at each and asked how he got it he said, "motorbike….". I commented that he had previously told me that he had never had a motorbike accident and he said, "Well if I said I had lots of accidents you wouldn’t have got on my bike." Well he had a point!

Cars

Generally if you have a car in South East Asia it will be brand spanking new. You will either drive it like you own the road as, after all you should do, having spent ten times the national average wage on it. Or, you will drive at about two miles an hour as you have no concept of how big your car is and besides you couldn’t possibly risk scratching it having paid ten times the national average wage for it. If you decide that actually driving your car is not a good idea you could always buy a particularly large truck-type model and keep it parked in your drive. This works particularly well in small villages such as those around Patthalung. You will find that such a vehicle has a large battery which affords you the luxury of having a stereo which you can have on at full volume for the whole night. The vehicle also serves as a nice bedroom for the kids with added luxuries unavailable in your house such as air conditioning.

Buses

If you have read any of my blog you should know by now that I am not the greatest fan of the above. I should not, therefore, need to mention the poo smell, the crazily loud Thai karaoke or the spilling of soup! Other than the aforementioned and other perils, buses are actually a very cheap and largely safe way to travel in South East Asia so unfortunately cannot be avoided. Generally I found local buses to be a lot less painful. Alternatively if you have the option of a tuk-tuk, strangthaew or more seriously local means of transport go for it.

Trains

Every train I have got has been an experience and generally a good one. There is more space than buses and you can generally wander around more. Something I found very odd at first was the fact that trains are generally the same speed and often slower than buses in South East Asia. Having said that they are definitely my preferred method of travel. Unfortunately the whole running on rails thing means they have slightly more limited route options. They are also more expensive.

Planes

I wasn’t actually planning on domestic flights prior to leaving the U.K. thinking that my planned (and paid for) flights would suffice. However after situations like getting stuck in Luang Phabang I ended up getting them. That was a case, as later in Ko Samui, when I had to decided whether the time spent travelling was worth more to me than the cost of the air fare…or vice versa. With the flights being so cheap I decided that flying was the way forwards. I only have twelve months after all so time is precious! Seriously though, I have an agenda you know, besides visas, follow on flights etc wait for no man…..are you convinced yet? the flights I have got have been fine. Granted the Laos airlines flight was turbulent but what can you expect in a plane that small?

People

I have generally found people to be very friendly everywhere I have been in South East Asia.

Vietnam

If people tell you that locals in Vietnam are not friendly (as far too many will judging by a lot of travellers I have met) they are lying. Either that or they have been arrogant and/or only travelled to very limited areas. There is some "hassling" to buy things in some of the bigger, more touristy places but I never found this to be overly aggressive. I mentioned previously that men perhaps encounter more aggressive forms of persuasion than women but I have not witnessed this. As I stayed with a male friend in Hanoi I was shocked to hear such accounts from others as he, nor any of his friends, had such stories to tell. Furthermore off the beaten track locals in Vietnam are amazingly friendly and will try to feed and accommodate you. They are also very inquisitive (maybe wondering why on Earth you wanted to go to such a place) and hover around you curiously to the extent of them taking photographs.

Laos

People in Laos are lovely with a capital L. Wherever you go people say, "Sabadee" (Hello in Lao) and children in particular are generally very pleased of your prescence. This seems to extend from larger towns to smaller villages off the beaten track. Although this was less evident in Vientiane, the capital.

Cambodia

Other than the people who tried to snatch my bag on the motorbike and the people who "lost" my laundry, people in Cambodia were also very friendly. In fact they were all very keen to warn you of the perils of the less friendly people in Cambodian society. Although this is not sounding too positive, people in Cambodia were generally very welcoming. And remember, if you have money, you’ll be fine. As one wise woman told me, there are no rich people in Cambodian prisons.

Thailand

Billed as the country of "a thousand smiles" you would expect a warm welcome in Thailand and you generally get it. There are signs though that there is some resentment towards Westerners creeping in. This was noticeable in places such as Ko Phagnan where shop owners followed you round and when I asked one how much something was she said, "ten baht" and then under her breath, "stupid". Okay, before you say this was just me, Julian got the same reaction. Although he -does- look dodgy! Generally though I found the Thais to be very friendly and in fact many were too friendly!

Singapore

Everyone is polite and welcoming. In fact there’s a law about it…..probably! Everyone also likes to tell you how great Singapore is, how safe, clean etc.

Food

On the whole, food in South East Asia can be described as cheap, tasty and varied. In Vietnam I fell in love with the pancakes in Hue, seafood soups and fruit everything. The cakes were also exceptionally good, especially when accompanied with cocktails. Laos, despite not having a coastline had exceptionally good sea (or maybe river) food. The local salads were also very good but I had to do pre-ambles about spice levels. Again Laos fruitshakes and juices rocked.

Unfortunately I didn’t manage to eat much Cambodian food due to feeling decidedly dodgy. What I did eat was very good though. The street stalls were great and a lot of other people highly rated the food. As you would expect the curries in Thailand were excellent. Actually the food full-stop was. I particularly liked the McDonald’s and Burger King. I’m joking of course. Well, actually I’m not. I mean double filet of fish, I so need to get writing those feedback and suggestions slips back in England.

Singapore was great for food with a real mixture of cultures and whatever you wanted on offer. Surprisingly given the price of everything else in Singapore it was also surprisingly easy to eat cheaply. I was pleasantly surprised by Malaysian food and had some great meals which was a cacophony of flavours from different areas.

Drink

If you do one thing in South East Asia it has to be drink fruit juices and shakes and lots of them. Initially I was loving lemon juice which later morphed into watermelon juices and shakes. The mixed shakes are gorgeous and all of the above use fresh fruit and are cheap as chips.  One drink which was surprisingly good (as it looked like swamp water) was a lemon and mint shake which I discovered in Vang Viang.

In terms of beer in Vietnam I mostly drank 333, beer Laos (in Laos strangely enough) was a good tipple.  I didn’t really like Angkor beer in Cambodia but I was an ill puppy so that may have had something to do with it.  Similarly I didn’t particularly like Chang beer in Thailand.  A lot of Westerners tell funny jokes about it being terrible the day after with inevitable punchlines about "Changovers".  A lot of locals in Thailand drink Singha which, in my mind, is a good alternative.  You can also largely buy beer Laos in Thailand (demonstrating its merit) and Tiger beer, which is good, is largely available.

Despite the above beer critique, well you’ve got to try it, I haven’t really been drinking much beer, which brings me onto my next topic.

Cocktails in South-East Asia are strong as I’ve mentioned previously.  Unlike in England where you need a scientific instrument to find any alcohol content, in South-East Asia you need the same to find the mixers.  I think I said that if more than one spirit is listed that often means a full shot of each.  Straight drinks with mixers, like gin and tonic, often involve the spirit being very liberally poured.  I’m not necessarily saying that this is a bad thing just that you maybe want to watch your drinks being made so you know how much is in them and don’t expect them to be the same as back home.  You may also want to think twice about riding your scooter home after one cocktail.  On second thoughts you should definitely think twice, have three or four more and then ride home, otherwise you’ll be the only one with more blood pumping through your veins than alcohol on the roads.

Finally, don’t drink tap water in Vietnam, Laos, Thailand or Cambodia but as I, somewhat excitedly, found it’s fine in Singapore. ….well it would be right?

Dress

Generally in South-East Asia people dress modestly.  Somewhat oddly this often means that if your shoulders are covered you’re fine, even when sporting shorts so short that you have two sets of cheeks on offer!  Actually this might not have been appropriate in Vietnam which I think was the most conservative of the countries I visited.  Obviously in -any- religious places you need to cover up and trousers/ a long skirt and covered shoulders are necessary.  Quite early on in Vietnam I bought a floaty shirt which I often carried with me as a handy cover-up over any top.

In South East Asia men have a thing where to cool down they roll their shirts up so that they have their t-shirt on their shoulders and their bellies out.  This mostly worked well when they had nice toned bods but was less favourable (to me) when they had a kind of reversed builders bum thing going on.

I would advise at least one pair of cropped trousers/ long shorts or a mid-length skirt.  Arguably I should have taken more short-sleeved tops which covered more of my shoulders.

Although Singapore grew on me (like a very sanitised, healthy rash with no visible blemishes which might offend ) it was a somewhat strange place.  All the locals you talk to, such as taxi drivers, will go on at length about how great a place it is, how clean, safe etc.  My guidebook summarises this well:

“At the core of this success is the unwritten bargain between Singapore’s paternalistic government and acquiescent population, which stipulates the loss of a certain amount of personal freedom, in return for levels of affluence and comfort that would have seemed unimaginable at independence in the 1960s.  Outsiders often bridle at this, and it’s true that some of the regulations can seem extreme:  neglecting to flush a public toilet, jaywalking, chewing gun and eating on the subway all carry sizeable fines……

It’s with some irony that Singaporeans refer to the place as a “fine city”.  There’s a fine of S$500 for smoking in public places such as cinemas, trains, lifts, air-conditioned restaurants and shopping malls, and one of S$50 for jaywalking – here defined as crossing a main road within 50m of a pedestrian crossing or bridge.  Littering carries a S$1000 fine, with offenders forced to do litter-picking duty, while eating or drinking on the MRT could cost you S$500.  Other fines include those for urinating in lifts (some lifts are supposedly fitted with urine detectors), not flushing a public toilet and chewing gum (which is outlawed in Singapore).”

So now you know what to do, or rather what not to do.  Although I must say that littering is one offence which bugs me in England.  However, as noted, it is pretty easy to mock the rules, particularly ones like the following:

“At other times, Singapore tries so hard to reshape itself that it falls into self-parody, “We have to pursue this subject of fun very seriously if we want to stay competitive in the twenty-first century”, was the reaction of former Minister of State George Yeo, when confronted with the fact that some foreigners find Singapore dull.  The government’s annual courtesy campaign, which in 1996 urged the population to hold lift doors open for neighbours and prevent their washing from dripping onto passers-by below appears equally risible to outsiders”.

So….on Tuesday I woke up, having had too little sleep and hailed a cab to the airport.  I didn’t technically have the two hours pre-flights time suggested but still decided that left me plenty of time to browse the duty free and check out the plethora of fine perfumes on offer.  Unfortunately some fool decided that smokers didn’t need to know about silly things like gates closing for flights which resulted in me ambling out of the smoking area only to see the big red “gates closing” notice next to my flight number.  Fortunately I was wearing a brand new pair of wedges so was able to run like a complete moron towards the gate!  Some people may think my attitude to flights and airports slightly laid-back and blaze but you have to inject excitement into the whole process somehow right?  I mean, airports are one of the dullest places in the World.

So I got on my flight and sat next to a guy who hadn’t discovered either deoderant or anti-snoring strips and wondered whether Australia could possibly compare to South-East Asia.

I got up and changed my room for a larger one with a window and double bed (hoorah).  I went for an amazing brunch at a Chinese hawkers restaurant.  I don’t care what people think or say about Singapore, the one thing you can’t deny is the fact that you can get great food, of almost any variety at great prices if you eat in the right places.  I had a big plate of Chinese fried vegetables, some suspiciously meaty stuff which I was told was vegetarian and loads of different types of noodles, with a drink, for around two quid.

I then headed over to the quay and went to Vivo City, one of the newest shopping malls.  I had planned to get the cable-car or monorail over to Sentosa Island (a kind of Singapore style themed island with rides and beaches made from a huge amount of imported sand) but the weather wasn’t great so I decided shopping was the way forward.  Any excuse eh?  The mall was awesome and had really funky areas and displays outside.  The children’s play area was out of this World and I so wanted to lose around twenty years so that I could make full use of it.  After a long time wandering round I went and sat outside by the quay-side and asked for a cocktail menu.  Imagine my excitement when they not only had mojitos but lychee mojitos at that!  So I sat, watching the World go by, sipping my lychee mojito, which was divine.  Then, all of a sudden I heard shouting and expletives in English but with a Japanese accent.  I turned around to see a young couple having a very public, very loud argument.  Now if this was in an English shopping centre like Lakeside or Brent Cross, this would have been a perfectly normal occurence but in Singapore!  I mean, that’s basically like running down Oxford Street naked, or worse.  Everyone, and I mean everyone, stopped what they were doing and turned to watch.  Security guards were looking on and clearly wondering if they should do something.  I didn’t really get what the argument was about, although at one point the man grabbed a packet of cigarettes form the woman, tore them all up and threw them in the air so that there was this kind of tobacco confetti effect, so I’m guessing maybe he didn’t want her to smoke.  Actually I’m surprised that they didn’t each get six months custody as that’s yet another Singaporean offence to add to the list of littering, loitering and causing a public disturbance!

After my bit of excitement I headed back to my hotel via another shopping mall.  Before you say, or think, anything here, there weren’t any cosmetic/toiletry shops in Vivo City other than Chanel and the like.  I was also hoping to get some cookies as the whole of Vivo city had this pumped in cookie smell but could I find the source?  I think it may actually have been the popcorn from the cinema which was confusing my nasal passages.

At the second shopping mall I decided that chocolate and hazelnut ice-cream would fulfil my cookie craving.  There were signs up professing the alleged health properties of the said ice-cream.  I’m always slightly suspicious of food misnomers like “healthy ice-cream” but got some all the same.  Despite it tasting decidedly like soap I finished it off.  It didn’t curb my cookie craving though.

Back at my hotel I was having a cigarette by the fire-escape (the only place you were allowed to smoke) when two guys came over and started talking to me.  They asked if I wanted to go for a drink and I explained that I wanted to shower and pack but that if I still felt like it after that then I would go.

Later on one of the guys phoned my room and I went downstairs.  When I say he, his friend was apparently only visiting.  Regardless, I decided a drink would be harmless and may assist my sleep prior to my early flight.  We got in a taxi and it transpired that he was yet another Nigerian footballer who wanted an “invite” to England.  The conversation started with him asking if I liked football and which team I supported.  Now, when I said Colchester United and he asked whether I could pull any strings, it was evident that he either knew very little about English football or he was not as good as he had professed – or both!  Oh, I feel bad about Col U now….you know I love you really.  Needless to say, with limited English, and that which he did speak referring to visiting me and English football, I had one drink and said my Goodbyes.  The evening wasn’t a complete loss though, they gave me cookies at the bar after hearing of my earlier plight!

I was so lethargic in J.B. that I actually considered that I may either have inadvertently ingested some soya milk (I have a very odd allergic reaction to it) or that I was getting carbon monoxide poinsoning from my rather old hotel air conditioner.  Anyway, I finally managed to move on the Saturday and opted for a taxi to take me across the border.  This was a wise move, and a relatively cheap one to be honest. 

When I got back to Singapore it soon became apparent that finding accommodation at a reasonable price (for reasonable price read anywhere other than hotels like ‘Raffles’) was about as easy as finding a good analogy at the moment!  I’m not going to elaborate too much on this one as it was very painful and dull.  I have finally conceded that this is perhaps the one time that I should have pre-booked a room.  I spent the best part of the day walking with all my bags and in taxis going from place to place to be told that there was no room at the inn.  I did, however, eventually find somewhere where I was told that I could pay and check-in and that the room would be ready two hours later.  Although normally I wouldn’t go for such an offer, I had given up by this stage.  So I paid them the forty quid or so (very bitterly it has to be said) went to get some food and drink and returned later.  When I got to my room it was compact, to say the least.  To be fair it was immaculate, to the extent that they had disinfected the doormat, but there was one vital omission.  No window!  I have stayed in a couple of budget places where there has not been a window but it is possibly the highest priority on my room list.  I don’t even care if the window literally looks against a wall, I just need some natural light and to be able to tell vaguely what time of day it is.  I had little option so had an early night.  Well I think it was early but, you know, it was hard to tell…..

I woke up this morning and immediately checked out, only to check into another place which had a room ready a few hours later.  I went and ate, returned and went to my, even more compact, room which also had no window.  Sigh!  At least I’m not paying the same price for the privilege this time.  I’ve also been informed that tomorrow I can move rooms to a larger room with a window.  Apparently weekends are crazily busy here in terms of accommodation.  In all fairness you can see it as numerous people traipse round only to be told that there are no vacancies.

Other than the room, today’s actually been great.  I went to the botanical gardens which were amazing.  Inside the gardens there is also an amazing orchid garden.  You have to pay for the latter but in all fairness I was shocked that the botanical gardens were free.  It was so peaceful and the plants were stunning.  In the V.I.P. orchid garden the flowers had been named after famous dignitaries who had visited.  There was even an orchid called “Margaret Thatcher”.  It was bright red, had a sharp tongue and only sleeps for three hours a night! 

After the botanical gardens I came back to relax in my penthouse suite and then went to the zoo for the “night safari”.  This is apparently heralded as a unique experience where you can see the animals in their natural, night-time habitat.  It was pretty fantastic to be fair.  A couple of words of warning though, do get the tram but don’t pick a seat engulfed by small noisy children.  You’ll be able to see them before you get on as they will all have glow sticks and very noisy parents with them.  One of the parents behind me actually did a nappy change mid-tram ride in the light of her children’s blue glow-stick which I thought was most admirable.  The other piece of advice is that red polka dot wedges are possibly not the best choice of footwear.  Okay, so I appear to be commenting on a lot of bad shoe decisions on my blog.  I didn’t really think that I was going to be walking that far tonight and I also didn’t expect there to be so many hills.  I also thought I might have time to go to Raffles for a Singapore Sling afterwards but, after completing every night trail, I was slightly sweaty and had blisters on my blisters so decided that I wasn’t in the mood to pose provocatively over a cocktail. 

Although the leopards and fishing cats were pretty cool by far my favourite exhibit (is that the right word) was the “mangrove walk” with the bats.  Basically this was a free-flying area for bats and some of them were positively HUGE!  I have seen some big bats but these boys were absolutely massive.  Their wingspans were probably a good couple of feet, I kid you not.  I’d heard really good things about the zoo, for example that there are not visible cages with moats and the like preferred, and it didn’t disappoint.

On that note I’m going to bed as I need to be up for a full day of fun in Singapore tomorrow before I fly to Australia on the 8th.  If I’m lucky I might even get a window! 

So, on Michael’s advice I decided to head to Malaysia to the island paradise. 

I left Singapore slightly later than planned as I got a bit distracted by “Little India” and Indian food, amongst other things.  I then spent far too long wandering round to find the bus and then got on without the correct change.  Honestly, everyone else was getting on with their Oyster card type gadgets and I was standing there fumbling with a handful of coins and several notes.  The driver didn’t look too amused and eventually figured out that I didn’t have enough money to get to where I wanted to go.  I asked that he tell me when I had to get off (so to speak) and he said he would.   I was hopeful here that he would forget and thankfully he did.  Either that or he couldn’t bear another conversation with the stupid English girl.  For much of the journey a Malaysian woman spoke to me and informed me that I should have already changed my money and that it was a -long- way to Tioman island. 

When we got to the border I went through and saw the biggest queue ever.  Having queued for some time there was this kind of bundle from behind and a massive number of people managed to get infront of me which was somewhat irksome.  When I finally got through the border I almost wished I hadn’t as there was either a massive queue for a bus or a walk along a -long- causeway.  I was told that it was a one kilometre walk but my bag suddenly appeared to have swallowed half the population of China and the prospect was so not appealing.  So I started the journey with a face like death (for a change).  A kind local man began chatting to me and actually offered to carry my bag.  I feel a bit bad actually as I don’t think I was overly polite in my telling him it was heavy and that I could, indeed, manage by myself.

Eventually, after several stops, cursing and tutting I got across the causeway and someone offered me a taxi.  When I got to the taxi not only was it clearly just some bloke’s car but it had a really dodgy repair of the rear triangle window.  I spent all of five seconds wondering if he was the one who had put the window in and then gave up and decided to get in the (possibly stolen) car.  I told the “taxi driver” that I wanted to go to a cheap hotel and he took me to a “guesthouse” out of town.  Actually I don’t think it was that sinister but there were no shops or anything around it.  I pointed this out and said that I wanted to be more central and he helpfully pointed to the Esso garage for me.  He eventally got the idea (decided to waive his comission) and took me to another hotel, the “Grand paradise” hotel.  Now with a name like that, and the fact that the place looked like a multi-storey car park, you know you’re onto a winner right?  So I went in, asked how much it was, had absolutely no idea what the currency conversion was, agreed, paid and went to my room. 

The lift itself was somewhat concerning and I thought more than once about plunging to my death.  I didn’t and when I got out on the fourth floor I was greeted by a windowless hallway with bright turquoise carpets (well bright where they weren’t stained) and red writing on the walls which red “Keluar”.   This immediately made me think of White Russians but, having seen it since, I actually think it means exit or fire escape or something.  When I got to my room I opened the door and was actually amazingly pleasantly surprised.  The room was really big with a double bed and a single bed and one entire wall was big windows with a view of the city scape.  Admittedly it wasn’t in the best decorative order and I wouldn’t be using the bath for anything other than showering, but I kind of liked it.  The room was really retro with the coolest 70s type control box next to the bed.  I later checked exchange rates online and found out that the room was costing me the princely sum of around thirteen pounds.

The following morning I expored the town a bit more and spent an insane amount of time online uploading pictures.  I also discovered that the street restaurant opposite my hotel not only did great food but the most amazing shakes.  My favourite was the blueberry ice blend.  Mmmm, actually that’s making me want one now thinking about it.  In the evening I wandered around the street-side parks and received a fair few unwanted comments, some from one particular man were so obscene that I’m not going to write them.  Honestly, I was shocked!  Can’t people see how sweet and innocent and easily offended I am?  At one point I was taking photos of a fountain and another man, who had also made suggestions and invitations which I wasn’t overly ready to accept, proceeded to undo his flies.  I wasn’t sure if he was about to relieve himself, actually I was but I wasn’t sure which version of relief he was about to apply, so I quickly walked away deciding that I had slightly preferable things to take photos of.  Okay, sorry about that one, I’ll move on.

So……….on the Thursday I was still in Johor Bahru and was quickly realising that I either needed to leave for Tioman island sharpish or have no time in Singapore at all.  Despite the somewhat strange attention I liked Johor Bahru.  It had a good atmosphere, great food and the area I was staying in was bustling with food stalls, street vendors and cafes, late into the night.  I decided that I would chill out, drink more shakes and do boring things like sort my laundry out and then head back to Singapore for two full days. 

 Whilst in J.B. I spent way too much time shopping.  I was really near City Square which was an awesome shopping centre with an area at one end which was set up more like stalls and was the young and trendy place for fashion buys.  I also ventured out to a shopping mall some distance out of town which was a bit like Bluewater or Lakeside.  It was massive actually and full of “proper shops” like Topshop and Nike which didn’t appeal so much.  I also ate a lot of great food at crazily low prices.  One of my favourite meals was a kind of buffet where I had chilied mussels (I wasn’t quite aware just how hot they were when I was spooning them onto my plate), fish cake, oriental spinach and various vegetables (including some weird kind of dumpling thing) which cost me around two quid with a drink.  Another past time I adopted in J.B. was buying a magazine, a shake and retiring to my room.  Yes I know, you’re only young once right?  Anyway the magazines were hilarious.  Although a lot of the content was the same i.e. “how to please your man”, “the top tops for July” etc, there were some notable differences.  One thing which struck me in “Marie Claire Malaysia” was the number of adverts for whitening cream and the emphasis in a lot of the articles about staying out of the sun.  The magazine which caused me the greatest amusement was one called Cleo.  There was an article in the July 08 edition of this called, “Men who rape then post it on the internet”.  There was a “crimes caught on camera rapsheet” at the end of the article which stated the following:

“In Australia, May 2006:  Mobile phone footage of a group of Victorian girls viciously kicking another girl in the head was circulated on the Internet”

Now I don’t know if it’s because I’m English but I had to re-read this about three times before I got the reference to the place Victoria rather than a group of nice girls wearing pleasant hats from the Victorian era!

The article continued”

“In Malaysia, November 2005″:  A 23-year-old female Malay woman was detained at a police station was (sic) filmed doing ear squats in the nude by a policeman using a mobile phone”.

Okay, I was completely lost by this one.  Can someone please explain to me what ear squats are?

I think that the strangest thing about the whole article, which was clearly taking the whole damning how horrendous line, was a box at the end with a graphic which said, “Be safe.  Don’t leave any incriminating images or videos on your phone”.

Later in the magazine there was advice about how to phrase those difficult emails.  I particularly liked the email advice for the “You’re dumped email”.  The first is apparently what you should write:

Subject:  Don’t think it’s working out”

“Dear Darren,

I’ve been doing some thinking and, although we’ve had some great times (that roundabout after the pub springs to mind), I just don’t think it’s really happening between us – we’re just too different.  But give me a shout if you want to go for a beer in the future – just so long the stupid football isn’t on.

Take care,

Susan.”

Erm, is it just me or can you see some potential problems with that email?  The what not to write email was just as good:

Subject:  “So long sucker!”

“Dear Darren,

So you got off with that cow I used to call a best friend.  Well it’s your loss.  Yes, you made me cry for three days straight over a pillow that still smells of you.  But as Whitney says ‘It’s not right but it’s okay and I’m going to make it anyway.”

Hot Susan.

p.s. I hope I never, ever see you again.  Except at Bernice and Mark’s wedding next month obviously.”

Oh I would Soooo go for the second.  I mean the Whitney quote is pure genius right?

You know I asked about the libel laws in a previous blog entry?  Well, now I may need some legal advice on copyright law also.  Hey ho, I’ll just share one more delight from the ever-amusing Cleo magazine.  This one’s from the questions and answers page (they’re always so good but this one has the whole Asian gender line twist).

“Q:  After years of having my man surreptitiously use my concealer to cover skin blemishes, I recently called him on it.  He was a little shamefaced but I was totally cool with it and was really just having a laugh.  The other day, however, I noticed a new bottle of concealer in our bathroom whch I hadn’t bought.  In fact, it was one especially formulated for men.  Which I thought was, a little, well, gay to be honest.  I had no problem with him using mine, but something is odd about him buying his own.  Am I crazy to feel this way?

A:  Yes, yes and yes.  You don’t merely have double standards but may have just invented triple ones!  The fact that he was using your products obviously niggled enough to prompt a comment, so when he remedies the situation, he’s now a little gay?  Dude, check yourself.  Nothing wrong with a bit of metrosexuality.  It’s only when he starts using your eyeshadow or blush that there’s a problem.”

Well dudes and dudettes, I hope you’ve all taken note, that’s all I can say!

Hello all.  This is just to make you aware that I have recently spent way too long uploading my pictures onto the website.  They are basically now up to date and, partly due to the time I have spent in this internet cafe, I would be pleased if people could actually look at them.  Failing that I will be equally pleased if you pretend you’ve looked at them and post me a comment about how amazing they all are, how stunning I am and what a brillant photgrapher I have become.  Actually if you do the latter I’ll know instantly that you haven’t actually looked at them!

I know that some people have been having difficulties viewing the pictures.  I am still slightly confused by this as I thought it was slef explanatory but if you have had any problems here goes. 

Basically you need to go to zelmastrip.com and click on the “pictures” link from the homepage.  You will then be taken to:

http://home.isbd.net/gallery2/main.php

where you need to click on the photo of my Mum and Dad’s backs above “Album: Zelma’s round the world trip”.  This will take you into my gallery.  Once inside the gallery there are three pictures which are not in albums and the rest are albums with pictures inside each.  The albums are done by place i.e.

Album: Vietnam (South) – Saigon (Ho Chi Minh City) and around

Album: Laos (North Central)- Vang Viang

In order to look at the pictures in an album you need to click on the picture for that album, as you did on the first picture to go into the gallery.  Once inside an album you can click on any picture to see it in more detail, the date it was taken, shutter speed and lots of other details that probably none of you care about.  It does show you an enlarged version of the picture though. 

There are several albums, currently spanning five pages.  In order to access the albums not on the first page there are next and previous buttons at the bottom of the page as well as the page numbers so you can jump to a specific page.

At present none of the pictures are protected so they can be copied directly from the site.  I’m saying this mostly for people who I have met whilst traveling who may want copies of them.  If people want higher spec copies then let me know.

Okay, hopefully that covers it all.  If anyone has any questions or problems accessing the pictures, or any other part of the site for that matter let me know.

As we drove towards my hostel it became apparent just how diverse Singapore is.  The area where the hostel is is called “Little India” and is full of colours, flavours and smells you would imagine befitting such a title.  I checked into the hostel and was informed that I had literally got the last bed in the place.  The person who arrived just after me was turned away.  When the place was recommended to me the couple strongly recommended that I book ahead as it’s very popular.  Book ahead?  Those words don’t really compute in my head.  Actually, I was pretty lucky with this one to be honest.  The dorm was fine, clean and air-conditioned although somewhat of a comedown from my most recent accommodation in Thailand.  I realised that this was the start of my trip when the prices went up and the sunshine levels started to go down.

I chatted to a couple of people in the hostel one of whom, Michael, told me about an amazing island called Tioman island off the coast of Malaysia.  I must say the thought of a bit more sun, sand and snorkelling really appealed and, shortly afterwards, I was emailing my travel guy and asking for a date change.  I went for a wander around little India and later got confirmation that I had another week to play in the sun!

I explored the area of Singapore around the hostel that evening and the following morning.  It was actually very cool and I ate some great food at a local hawkers area.  One thing which was a bit strange was the locals.  When I say locals, a local in Singapore is a bit like a local in London, i.e. it’s a very multi-cultural city.  However, the areas I was wandering about in around the hostel were mostly Indian and Arabic.  I’m not sure if this is anything to do with people’s responses to me but on a few occasions men walked passed and hissed at me.  It wasn’t like I was wearing a bikini.  I was wearing trousers and a vest top.  I wondered if it was something to do with having my shoulders uncovered but then saw several other Western women wearing significantly less than me who didn’t appear to be iliciting the same reaction.  I considered whether it was because I was smoking.  When I got back to the hostel I asked Michael about this and he said that he had never heard of anything like it.  I said that I had some odd reactions to smoking in Vietnam and he again said that he had not heard this happen to anyone else.  He suggested it may be because I was, “blonde and stood out”.  What?  Someone had previously referred to me as a redhead!  I know my hair has got lighter in the sun but please, has the whole World gone mad?

I woke up three hours after getting in and felt decidedly dodgy – obviously it was the lack of sleep rather than the cocktails!

I packed the remainder of my things in the hotel room and then, as I walked out of the door, thought I would have a final look round.  Fortunately I checked under the pillows and found my passport there!  Don’t ask, it’s obviously the safest hiding place in the World I know.  I then had to go and print out my E-ticket.  Yes, it may have made slightly more sense to have sorted such details out the day before but hey, football priorities and all.  I then got a taxi and realised that I wasn’t really going to make their recommended two hour check-in.  Well, I always think that’s excessive anyway.  The taxi driver didn’t disappoint as my final driver and spent the journey telling me he loved me, wanted my children and that I was beautiful.

When I got to the airport I decided that I had time to post some cards prior to checking in.  I then went to the desk, gave them my print-out and they gave me my boarding pass.  I queued at passport control for some time, got to the front and realised I hadn’t filled out an exit form so had to do so and queue again.  I got through and was sorting my gubbins out on the other side when the woman from the first desk came rushing over.  I asked if there was something wrong and she said, “Problem with your ticket”.  Those words filled me with joy, especially in the state I was in.  It transpired that my ticket was meant to have ET (for E-ticket or something) on it and she had not noticed when I showed her the reference that it did not but had since spoken to her Manager.  This meant that I needed to show them my original hard copy of the ticket (despite the date having been changed).  I did ask why I was given a boarding pass and not told this at the time and she said something along the lines of, “I should have noticed but I didn’t”.  So I was taken back to the desk where it was explained to me again, time by a rather angry man.  I pointed out to him that this, “Was not strictly my problem”, to which he replied, “It’s your problem if you fly tomorrow”.  I gave his colleague a bit of a sad, bemused look and he replied with a look which said, “Don’t worry he’s always like that, we think he’s a moron too”.  The problem with this whole scenario is that the hard copy of my ticket was in my main bag which I had checked in and which had now, apparently, been loaded onto the plane.  The woman then said, “follow me” and I was rushed through the airport at great pace.  Typically the gate where  I was to board was about as far away as possible.  After a while I was handed over, relay baton style, to a male member of staff who proceeded to race me through the remainder of the airport.  It was actually relatively amusing – well in hindsight it is and actually it was relatively amusing to me at the time but I think I was at that laugh or cry dilemma stage, well that and the fact I probably still had cocktails in my bloodstream. The staff, however, appeared not to share my sentiments.  As I was rushed through the airport and through several restricted areas other passengers looked on and I thought they may be wondering who I was as I was rushed along V.I.P.-stylee.  This feeling of importance quickly faded as my bags were brought off the plane and all my fellow passengers looked on as if I was some kind of smuggler.  Eventually I found the ticket, gave it to them and was allowed to stand back with all the other passengers who stood there gawping at me.  In all fairness I think I would have been a bit miffed at me at this stage, particularly as the flight left late.  I’m absolving myself of responsibility here though as, by her own admission, it was the woman’s fault who didn’t check my ticket properly in the first place!

Once on the plane the flight was okay, although the landing gear did make seriously ominous noises.  There were also several rattles and bangs throughout the flight and, after some time of this, I started looking to fellow passengers to see if they firstly could hear the noises and secondly whether they were concerned.  It would appear that either everyone else was deaf or they didn’t give a stuff as no-one was remotely bothered.

When we landed in Singapore I somehow managed to get lost at the airport – how sad is that?  They had free internet terminals though so I chilled out and checked my email for a while.  I had spent the flight trying to convince myself not to hate Singapore just because it made me leave Thailand.  It redeemed itself on one level almost instantly though as they have a smoking area prior to going through immigration to baggage collection – and everyone said that Singapore was anal and sterile!

I sent an email to my parents stating that I should probably go lest my bag was going round and round some carousel by itself or had been taken somewhere else.  I eventually found it was the latter as it had been put in a big heap with a whole host of friends whose owners had also presumably got over-excited by the smoking area and shops and neglected to collect their trusty belongings.

With bags finally in hand I booked a ticket in a shared taxi-minibus into the city.  I had previously met a couple (at Halong Bay if my memory serves me correctly…it probably doesn’t) who told me that a good place to stay in Singapore was the Prince of Wales backpackers’ so I headed there.  To be honest Singapore wasn’t exactly what I was expecting.  Firstly it wasn’t quite as sanitized as I had expected and secondly it seemed to have character.  That said I by no means got the same feel from it as I did in Bangkok.  I told myself to sit tight and reminded myself of the smoking area at the airport and the other redeeming factor of the place, it didn’t smell of pooey sewers!

My flight wasn’t until the afternoon so I checked out, put my bags in the lads’ room and went and bought a Slurpee.  I am seriously addicted to them, it’s as bad as my watermelon shake problem I’m telling you.  At least watermelon shakes are made of proper fruit though.  I hate to think what’s in a Slurpee, well actually I presume it’s a lovely concoction of ice, food colouring and enough E-numbers to give a small child ADHD.  Actually when I got a Slurpee in Mae Hong Son Mr Wallop (my driver for the day) told me that his son loved them but that they didn’t buy them for him very often as, “they make him do crazy”. 

Prior to leaving Ko Samui for Ko Pha Ngan I had a pedicure and “foot scrape” at the beach side massage and treatment place where I was staying.  The “foot scrape” basically entailed softening and removing the dead skin from the sole of your foot.  It wasn’t painful at all but did tickle in places.  Once I had this done I soon realised that my timing was rubbish as I subsequently managed to burn the soles of my feet on hot sand; properly I might add, not just in an “Ow my feet hurt on the sand way”.  It’s also amazing how difficult things that seemed simple before like walking on pebbles and stones become without a layer of scummy skin on the bottom of your foot.  Anyway, after destroying all the hard work which had previously been put into making my soles feel like a baby’s bottom I decided to get another foot scrape.  I then went to meet Julian and Steve for their final suit fitting.  On the way to the shop I realised that I had left my Ipod cover on the beach and said my Goodbyes prior to collecting it and getting a taxi to the airport.

The flight passed without incident and when I arrived in Bangkok I instantly got the same good feeling that I had done each time I had arrived and returned there.  It’s really strange but it almost feels like coming home.  I got my bag, went through customs and decided to get some money out.  For some reason my brain fell out when I tried to withdraw money.  You used the buttons to put your PIN in and then it became touch-screen which -really- confused me.  After standing there banging buttons for some time I realised that there was a queue forming behind me.  I then realised it was touchscreen but managed to hit the screen in completely the wrong place.  It transpires that my bank has not put any limit on withdrawals and, as the machine made the whirring noise it does before spitting your money out, I wondered why I was so inept and what I was going to do with that amount of money in one night!

When I got into the taxi to go to the hotel, which I had stayed at previously, I was again in awe of the Bangkok evening cityscape.  I checked into my hotel, got ready and went out to Gazebo (I still want to call it Placebo) bar to watch the Euro final.  I ended up playing a lot of pool, surprisingly well actually.  There was a fun group there including two Irish guys, one who was very good but refused to play me.  He kept making excuses such as going to the toilet, dancing etc and later in the evening he came and told me that he would lose face if he lost to me.  Doofus.  He also liked substituting one of his friends in his place who did that thing of measuring shots up with his cue which really annoys me and then laboured for about five minutes over each shot with his tongue poking out between his lips. 

It was a great evening and I finally got back to my hotel at around 5AM wondering how bad I would feel when I had to get up for my flight three hours later!

We arrived back in Ko Samui and headed back to the places we had stayed at previously in a minibus.  If anyone’s interested I stayed at Chaweng Beach for seven hundred baht a night, that’s ten pounds fifty at the current exhange rates.  It was a great room with air-con, large well-stocked fridge and snacks (although I never know whether that’s a good thing or not), cable T.V. (ditto) etc.  The staff were very friendly and there was a nice beach bar (called the Sunlight pub I think) which had a pool table, sun-beds and hosted fire shows.  The lads stayed at the Island Resort, two places down.  It was slightly more pricey and upmarket but more spread out in gardens with a lovely pool by a bar which over-looked the beach.

I spent the day buying a few essentials like new headphones and speakers (hmm) for my Ipod and then sorted a few bits online.  I also booked my flight back to Bangkok for the following day.  In the evening I had a drink at the beach bar, miraculously beat one of the bar staff at pool and then headed into town to meet Steve and Julian.  We went and played pool and had a cocktail.  Steve headed back and Julian and I went passed where we were staying to a bar with live music for a final drink.  Neither of us had really ventured past where we were staying in this direction but the bar was pretty cool and we wondered why we hadn’t.