2013 TURNS 2014 IN PAI.

Christmas is over and after spending some days apart I meet up with Heidi in Pai in time to celebrate the new year. 

We rent a bungalow and have our own house cat (!!!) Free of charge - kaching 

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Found this flyer laying around. "No hippy bongo playing dreadlocked freaks please", mate - you've come to the wrong town then. 

Taking a shower looked like this - pretty pretty 

At Chang-o-clock we meet up with our new found Aussie friend Steve to spend the last afternoon of 2013 together. My instagram caption to this photo goes something like "Life of Pai", it's a hard knock one indeed. 

 As evening approaches we head out to the Trance Spirit Festival, stuffed on the back of a pick-up driving through the dark of northern Thailand. There we randomly bump into Mariana, a woman we met months earlier whilst exploring Luang Prabang. Such a funny coincidence, to meet her at the tiny Trance Spirit Festival of all places. 

After some time we head back to Pai in time for the fire works, which turn out to be complete madness. They go left and right (and at some points along the ground so we have to run away from them) as they fill up the dark night. 

To wrap the evening up we perform a (once and for all) quality check between Chang-Leo-Singha and have another round of peanut butter-banana-roti's before we finally head to sleep, wrapped in all of our garments to protect from the cold. Farewell then 2013! You've been a good year. 

TOUR de BALI (or 'Ubud-Lovina-Kuta')

To me, Indonesia only seems to get better the further out east we get. Coming from Java, Bali feels like a gasp of fresh air. Our first stop on this island (apart from a night spent in the capital Denpasar) is beautiful Ubud.

Temple door of Ubud. 

Ubud is, apart from where Julia Roberts snogs Javier Bardem in Eat Pray Love, full of galleries of local art, hosts some magnificent food (like the Tempeh Satay at Mama's Warung!) and is, unfortunately, also home of the so-called Monkey Forest. Remembering my last encounter with a schimpanzee, I wouldn't say I was too keen to enter this place. But as the entry fee was about 10 kronor I figured why wouldn't I come along if the other girls were doing it. And for a moment or so, I was almost enjoying myself. I was just about to feel relaxed when a monkey suddenly jumps Elme. He sits on top her head for a while and Heidi laughingly tries to take a photo, when the monkey decides to jump her instead. Yeah, it's all fun and games until you've got a monkey on your head, as the Romans used to say...  

Two young boys playing at the Lovina shores. 

After a few days in Ubud, we took a long taxi ride to the north and Lovina Beach. After promises from Resha and Shariff that there'd be epic dolphin watching to be done. Now who does not wish to be in a boat surrounded by jumping dolhpins? That's right, that's probably how half the tourist population of Bali was to be seen entering one spider-shaped boat after another.

      Of course the dolphins were scared senseless, and time and time again, the drivers tried to chase them to force them out of the water so the paying audince could go "oooh" and point their cameras in that direction. After a while, I honestly just wished it would be over so the animals could be left in peace. Furthermore, I was relieved that neither of my companions fell overboard as their heavy hungover heads (after spending the previous night drinking and open-micing with some of the locals) seemed to force them into micronaps. Dolphin watchin gets 0 out of 5 toasters. It felt kind of like at our snorkeling trip at the Perhentians when Asian tourists who couldnt swim kept stepping on the coral reefs (!!!!!) and a man forced a giant turtle up to the surface so that we could take photos. No thanks, I'll swim the other direction, thank you. 

There aren't many photos from Kuta. So this is of me and H, stolen from Elme's instagram feed. 

Finally we ended up at Kuta Beach. Where Heidi lost her phone at SkyGarden and we all lost each other after too many energy drinks at Alleycats. Trying to find my way home through the many poppies lane (had a photo of our hostel sign saved in my phone - "hey, have you seen this place?") as the sun was rising at 7am, I stumbled upon a bunch of strangers sat outside 7-eleven. They invited me to have a seat as I explained that I was lost and then this Irish fellow created a chunky kitkat for me after I complained they only sold the "regular one". (How to create a chunky kitkat: break the regular one in half and place them atop eachother, work wonders. Or maybe that's the arak speaking.) 

      This is also where I had my first trip to the moon and the sky turned batique and I held Heidis hand as we walked home through the sparkling neonlights. 

MT BROMO PHOTO DIARY.

 Heading out just before the sunset to catch the active volcano of Mount Bromo. 

 Pastel sky. 

The mixes of ashes and sand was just flying around our feet as we walked through the valley leading up to the volcano. 

Misty mountains. 

And here it is - my first ever volcano. Wasn't really what I had expected. Just a lot of fog rising. 

 In the midst of the valley was a temple. Beautifully set, among all the mountain tops. 

 A group of locals hanging about in the village. 

Moments before the sun made her first appearance. Such a peaceful moment; sitting there with steam rising from our cuppa noodles, before the chinese tourists arrive in hoards and block the view whilst taking photos (using flash, rookie mistake!!) 

 And there she finally was. Beautiful as ever. 

 Elme was attempting a sunrise-stop motion, meanwhile the volcano is spitting out some clouds in the background. 

Our newfound friends documented whilst documenting. 

From the bus ride on our way back "to solid earth". Me and Heidi were squeezed in the front seat. Worried sick as we rolled down those thin, undulating roads without any seat belts and a driver who obviously was not familiar with the term speed limits. 

MOUNT BROMO (or "All pastel")

We are on our way from Yogja to Surabaya when the bus breaks down. There is a loud bang and before we know it, we are standing still at the side of the road. The tyre has exploded and we are positively in the Middle of Nowhere, Rural Java. As our fellow passangers one after another steps outside in the sizzling afternoon sun, we begin to realize we are probably stranded here for a while.

      In a situation as such it is indeed immensely difficult to make much sense of what happends next (will there be a new bus, are we waiting here to repair this one, are we stuck here forever?) considering no one speaks the same language. After two long hours, just as E and H has disappeared around the corner to get us some food, the tyre is suddenly fixed and rapidly everyone starts entering the bus again. Oh shoot, will they leave without us? They are probably tired of waiting. So I start running back and forth, getting our backpacks back on the bus, calling on my friends to hurry up and making some sort of charades for the passangers to assure they will be here in less than a minute. I'm not sure my performance is very clear, but at least I get them to laugh and I reckon that is a beautiful thing after this long afternoon. As the bus starts rolling and we sit there laughing with these strangers I realize how it is all about the mindset. 

This day could've been absolutely horrible but it is about how you choose to look at things. As they say, it's not the destination, but the journey. 

Our petit crew watching the sun make her appearance.

So we reach the NP of Mount Bromo on Friday morning. At one of the two food stalls we meet the Singaporeans Shariff and Resha. You know how in the Sims 2 they get this like little rush for a few hours after making a new friend? That's how we all felt after this meeting, a wee friend crush. We spent the evening wrapped up like penguins in our hostel blankets, passing ciggarettes and a bottle of gin and watching stars fall across the pitch black sky. 

After only a few hours of sleep we rise again at 3:30am to begin hiking up to the look out point to enjoy the sunrise. We get surpassed by tonnes of big jeeps driving hoards of tourists up the top. A bit stressed we try to walk faster, we don't want to miss the sun. Yet we seem to be amongst the first ones to reach the top of the look out point. Possibly because the last 25% of the hike is far too steep for any jeeps to travel, so at the end we are the ones surpassing everyone. At the top we purchase cuppa noodles to keep warm and sit there watching the sun slowly push the night away. 

YOGJAKARTA (or 'Capital of Batique')

We arrive with the night train to Yogjakarta. It is about 4am when we start wandering around the desolated streets only to be met by a "FULL" sign on each and every hostel door. So we await morning, sitting down in one of the cafés. (If the term Café instantly makes you think of a carpets on the ground that you sit on, then you're right on). As morning arrive we finally find a room where we sleep, all three of us, in one big bed until late afternoon.

Yogja is where Emily starts having a lot of bad fortune with her food (which is amusing in some ways, as she is always the one being cautious about this foreign food.) First there is the chicken sandwhich, that comes in with pink chicken. Uncooked. When she asks to have a new one they simply take the old sandwhich, with all the (possible) salmonella, to refry it and replace on the same piece of bread. Yum. A day later she has a big bug in her rice.

Our visit to town is interferring with some kind of carnival, so the streets are crowded with people to give way for a parade.

This thing about decent coffee abroad. I mean, sure one should embrace cultural differences but to have the coffee grounds floating around in the beverage itself -- that's just cruel. // Visiting a Batique shop

Me and Elme paid a visit to the hairdresser with these fashionable 90's hair do's decorating the walls. I got a cut for a total of 12 kronor (!!!) and they used foil from candy bars whilst bleeching E's hair. 

CANDI SEWU (or 'A Thousand Temples')

Afternoon sun sneaking in through the temple. 

I am a sucker for any good temple story. I reckon that is why the ruins of Candi Sewu is so appealing to me. (Possibly also because it holds far less tourists than its neighbouring hindu temple Prambanan, where we are constantly put through this scenario: one cute kid comes up and ask shyly whether they can take a photo. And you go sort of 'of course you cutie!', a wee flattered. But then, as soon as you say yes they wave at their classmates that comes running, seemingly out of nowhere, and wants their picture taken too. Being a Hollywood celebrity must surely be exhausting! Getting a bit carried away here - Candi Sewu, it was.) 

So the legend goes something like this: A princess that is put to marry a prince that has murdered her father (hence he got the throne) but she is for obvious reasons reluctant to the idea, so she claims that if he manages to build a thousand temples until the next morning she will agree to marry him. A thousand temples in one night, now that must surely be impossible for mankind. But the prince evokes demons from the underworld to commence the construction of these temples. They work rapidly and as temple 999 is completed the princess, who thought this was surely impossible, asks her people to start the day earlier, before the sun has revealed its presence. This troubles the roosters to crow and so the demons believe it to be morning and disappear under the earth again. The prince is furious and as a revenge he petrifies the princess, making her the finalizing one thousandth temple. 

Upon arriving to the temple grounds I had to put this extra sarong around myself. Thought it a bit odd (like, what it is covering that my pants aren't already?) til I realized it was mandatory/Heidi and one of the temple 'guards'

Another positive thing with getting away from the tourist crowds is how it creates a completely different atmosphere. 

While waiting for the bus back to Yogja we found these endeering creatures. Check those lashes! 

JAKARTA (or 'premiere Couchsurfing')

If Jakarta was a jam flavour it'd be TRAFFIC. (Traffic-jam, get it?)

Pardon my terrible pun. It is true though - Jakarta was a chaos in terms of traffic, even in SEAsian measures I believe. It was also constant smog and being ripped off by taxi drivers. And if not that, choosing to walk and getting lost because you're not really supposed to walk in this city. Another thing that disturbs me is that 99% of the people out on the streets are men. 

      If it weren't for our premiere couchsurfing at the house share of lovely Maysa, I'm unsure I'd have much nice to say about this city at all.

Jakarta in its prime/hijab fashion catalogues 

Meal of deep fried tofu, green chilies, noodles and salted duck eggs. 

Maysa lived outside of the city, about an hour on the bus, in a rather calm neighbourhood. A great contrast to the chaos of the city. The first evening her and her room mate created the most delicious meal. If one thing, I love the indonesian cuisine - how it is such a perfect combination of flavours that compliments each other: a mixture of sweet, spicy and salty. 

´     Top things with couchsurfing: 1) Interacting with girls from a completely different cultural background and yet sit and giggle over the same things, have the same worries. One particularly funny conversation is when Emily talks about the book Norweigan Wood: "It's about this girl who can't get wet" whereas Heidi, in ashtonishment, says "Not even if it's raining?" 2) Being guided through the local food market by an actual local. Maysa had us try so many different bits and treats that we were soon walking around with belly aches - but we didn't wanna say no to these delicacies. 

An amusing bit of cultural collision is when Maysa one morning pulls her umbrella out. I ask, what I assume is a given yes, whether it is forecasted to rain. "No, this is just for the sun".

      That's quite funny, how us westerners use of sun lotions and how the south east asians use their whitening creams. Silly world. 

THE PERHENTIANS (or 'Paradise' if you prefer)

Frankly my lady, I didn't like this place at all to begin with. Sure, it had the most turquoise water I'd ever seen. And sure, the long beaches were white as snow. Paradic, perhaps, but I'm really not a beach kind of girl. I get bored. And that's how my first hours on the island was spent. Our intention was to stay three days and I was - seriously - doubting how I'd survive. The sand was burning out feet, making it impossible to even go for a walk along the beach. There seemed to be nothing to do but lay down in the shade. 

      Yet a few hours in, the island has me hooked. We ended up staying for a whole week, skipping our intial idea of travelling to Taman Negara via the jungle train and if it weren't for our tickets to Jakarta booked one week later, I wouldn't have been surprised if we'd ended up staying three full months at Pulau Perhentian Kecil.

My girls on a hidden beach/Our last day on the island.

We arrived with no idea really where we'd get off the boat, after a jeopardizing look through our Lonely Planet we decided to stop at Long Beach. Only to find that basically everything on the beach front was fully booked. We walked back and forth on that burning hot sand with our slightly obese (novis travellers) backpacks. We finally found a place halfway up the woods with a peculiar excuse of a receptionist. Service minded didn't seem to be his thing. I remember one morning walking down to ask about the included daily breakfast. He, on his phone as ever, takes a while to acknowledge me so I can ask my question, then simply goes "Nah... Not today" before resuming his phone business. Completely ignoring my mumbling of "so breakfast is only included certain days?" 

The Tilted Jetty. Unfortunately, I captured an embarrassingly small amount of photos during our stay at the island. But you know, that's because of sand.  

About 15 minutes trekking through the jungle, via the electricity lines behind Long Beach, there's a jetty that's no longer in use. Somehow this whole block of concrete has tilted over and is now a great spot for snorkeling. If you're a great snorkeler. Personally, I am not. The first thing I do is as I enter the water is to inhale a deep breath of salt water. There I'd been living 20 years thinking you could actually use the pipe to breathe under water. As it turns out, you can't.

So after our snorkeling joys, we find a petite slice of a beach which we decide to rest upon. Have our little afternoon snacks of those Uncle Toby crackers and then head back to the hostel. This is where someone (Hey, don't look at ME!) has the genius idea of guys, why don't we walk along the rocks back to Long Beach - it really can't be that far? 

      Four long hours later, many involuntary gulps of salty water and yours truly almost falling down a five metre cliff later - we make it back to Long Beach. Thankfully in one piece, but probably looking like something that's been buried in the ocean for decades. But boy don't we feel like Robinson Crusoe when we finally see those dreadfully hot sand dunes of Long Beach. The vegetable curry I have at Evan's Café (our hangout for just about every meal) for dinner that night is the best ever.

A photo I have bluntly stolen from Emily's Facebook (hence the quality) - gives an idea of the picturesqness of this island. 

The Perhentians meant trying out the Monkey Juice (some rice based whiskey made in the jungle), seeing four metre lizards, skinny dipping in broad day light, walking through the jungle with Emily singing Belle and Sebastian-songs, thunder storms, and one of the best moments of the trip: A yoga class held on the beach. During the Shavasana the instructor compared our breaths to the waves of the ocean. Talking about how there's a tiny pause between the end of a wave (exhalation) and the beginning of a new one (inhalation) and how one should put faith in that new wave, that new breath, and not force the breathing. It was magical. Opening your eyes just in time to see the sun hide behind the horizon. 

Final note/Ps: A pocket light is absolutely neccessary - after sunset it gets pitch dark trying to walk through the jungle! 

MALAY FLOOR DECOR.

ELME AND THE SOUTH CHINA SEA.

BANGKOK PHOTO DIARY (August)