When we inquired about the Dien Bien Phu – Tay Trang border crossing to a travel agent in Sapa, he gave us a hesitant look and said that he could only book a bus for us from Sapa to Dien Bien Phu (the Vietnamese border town). He warned us that we would ride on a uncomfortable local bus to Dien Bien Phu and advised us to take a taxi instead for US$150, which was WAY over our budget. So, we researched the internet and read anecdotes from people who went through the crossing, which didn’t sound appealing at all (stories of road closures due to landslides, bus breakdowns and busses on the verge of falling off cliffs abounded). We also researched on the internet for other options. Flying would be the fastest, and also the most expensive. Using the more common southern border crossing would necessitate going back to Hanoi via train, which would be time consuming. In the end, we opted for the original plan of crossing the Dien Bien Phu – Tay Trang border. I was ready for an adventure, expecting the worst and hoping for the best.

In reality, Day 1 (Sapa to Dien Bien Phu) and Day 3 (Udomxai to Luang Prabang) were pretty uneventful, with most hours spent on busses. However, I shall never forgot Day 2 (Dien Bien Phu to Udomxai) because of the sheer comical absurdity of the whole day.

Day 2-Dien Bien Phu to Udomxai

Day 2 started dark and early, as the bus to Laos was scheduled to leave at 5:30 am. Needless to say, we were still groggy from the 11+ hour bus ride the day before when we arrived in front of the bus station at 5:15 am to buy our tickets and board on the bus. Having logged in many, many bus rides in Southeast Asia the past few months, I learned that having a stash of snacks was crucial to prevent starvation and crankiness, so I went shopping immediately after getting my ticket. Luckily, there were a few entrepreneurial locals selling food and drinks nearby at that ungodly hour who were happy to accommodate my needs. My group then stood patiently in front of the bus station, waiting for a bus station employee to walk us to our bus. The chance of this happening seemed slimmer as 5:30 am was approaching, so we decided to go into the bus station to search the bus ourselves.

The bus was a sight for half-awoken eyes. Actually, “minibus” is the more accurate word for what it really was. The top of the bus was practically stacked with passengers’ backpacks, boxes of supplies, and bags of food for transport into Laos. The bus was already filled to capacity with more backpacks, boxes of supplies, bags of food and PEOPLE!  Just as we thought that we couldn’t get on the bus, I was told by the bus guide to hop on and sit in the back. The problem was that all the seats were taken. The guide then pointed at a backpack on the floor which was to be my seat, and I was supposed to walk on the taken seats (and people) to get there. I thought to myself, “Oh, so that’s how it works. Once all the proper seats are taken (some people shared seats), the rest are placed to sit on any available space that’s not taken up yet by a person’s buttock. Sitting uncomfortably for 10 minutes is fine with me, but for the next 12 hours?!”

We were literally packed like sardines when the bus left the station. As the sun was rising, the bus drove merrily to the border as I counted 35 passengers on the bus which had a capacity for 15 people. Needless to say, we were all very uncomfortable, even the lucky ones with real seats as they had to share their precious seat space with another person. The rest of us who were sitting on backpacks or bags of rice had to adjust our bodies once in a while to relieve the aches that developed from the twisting and bending we did to be able to sit. Incredulously, the bus stopped along the way to pick up more people!! Whenever it did, there was a collective “No!” from the passengers, which I’m sure made the new passengers very welcome. Somehow, we were able to fit everyone on the bus, even though having this many people would have been illegal in the developed world. Fortunately, some people also got off the bus along the way.

We were happy to exit the bus at the Vietnamese border checkpoint for a breath of fresh air and some stretching. Getting stamped out at the checkpoint was relatively easy and quick. One immigration officer was offering to exchange Vietnamese dong for Laotian kip at a ridiculously high rate. However, in retrospect, maybe I should have exchanged some of my money there, since I would later find out about the difficulties of not having local currency in rural Laotian villages. After getting stamped out of Vietnam and waited idly outside the checkpoint building for a quite a long time, our bus appeared and we all boarded on the bus. Well, the people who sat on backpacks and rice bags clamored onto the bus as we scrounged for real seats. It’s amazing how quickly human beings can turn into primal beasts to fulfill basic needs.

On the road between the Vietnamese and Laotian checkpoints, it was easy to see where Vietnam ended and Laos began, because the section of the road that is owned by Vietnam was perfectly paved and the section of the road that is owned by Laos was NOT. In fact, the Laotian side was so rocky and dusty that the bus stopped at the end of the paved Vietnamese side, simply because it could not drive any further. We were told to get out of the bus and walk to the Laotian checkpoint. I would have worn better shoes instead of my sandals if I knew that we would have to walk 3 km to the checkpoint since I managed to cut one of my toes from a sharp rock.

There were no surprises at the Laotian checkpoint other than my needing to pay for processing and H1N1 check fees. Fortunately, the immigration officials accepted US dollars. Much of the time there was spent waiting; waiting for immigration officials to process everyone’s passports and visas, waiting for our bus to appear (to this day, I don’t know how the bus managed to get itself from the end of the paved road to the Laotian checkpoint), and when it did appear, waiting for the bus driver to start driving again. I think we spent about 2-3 hours there. To test our humor, two MORE people were added on the bus! One of them, David, is Vietnamese-American and was later really good at translating back and forth between the passengers and the bus driver and guide.

It was approaching lunchtime and people were beginning to get hungry. There was a rumor floating that we would stop for lunch about 30 minutes after the bus took off from the Laotian checkpoint. 30 minutes turned into 1 hour, which turned into 2 hours, with the bus not stopping at all. The drive was long, rocky and windy as we drove through mountainous terrain on an unpaved, unsealed, and ridiculously narrow road. I occasionally looked out the window to look at the beautiful scenery but had moments of terror when I looked down through the window and saw a 1000-ft drop off a cliff edge with hardly any road space between the bus and the drop. There were some moments when I felt that the bus was teetering delicately off the edge and felt my heart racing.

The only times the bus stopped was when it had to because of a road closure due to construction. We encountered 3 road blocks that day, and we had to wait patiently until construction ended before the bus was able to continue driving on the road.

The second road block we encountered was the most memorable one from that day. Imagine being in the middle of nowhere in Laos surrounded by mountains, feeling cranky from hunger and stuffy from sitting in a crowded bus with no windows open to prevent hot dusty earth from entering in it. That is how we felt when the bus stopped in front of a road closure. Most of us exited the bus to get some fresh air. We were notified by David that the construction was going to end at 4 pm, so we had a few hours to kill. A couple decided to take their bags and hike around the area during this time.

Many people were starved at this point; one was so hungry that he wanted to eat my apple peel that was I going to discard. There were several thatched wood structures on top of a hill on the side of the road behind the bus. Many of us started walking quickly toward the buildings, hoping that perhaps one of them was a store that sold food. But in front of the building structures was a huge billboard sign welcoming us to a drug rehab center, a joint program between the Laotian and German governments. But that still didn’t deter us from entering, since we thought that since it was a rehab center, they HAD to have food, right? And maybe we can buy food from them? Alas, that wasn’t the case. However, no officials told us to leave the center (actually, I didn’t see anyone who worked there, only saw residents behind bars) and there was a nice shaded area with tables and benches, so a big group of us hung out there while waiting for the road construction to end.

The road constructors decided to stop a for break early and cleared out the road around 3 pm to let the bus go through. Hence, there was a chaotic dash by everyone to climb back on the bus. As we continued our journey, someone asked, “Where’s the couple who took off?” Indeed, they weren’t on the bus. However, the bus couldn’t turn back because were already so far behind schedule. For a while, we were looking out for them, hoping that they were hiking along the road. But after a long time, we gave up. So, on top of everything else, we also lost two people that day in the middle of rural northern Laos.

At this point, even though we were famished, we somehow kept our sanity and good humor. After everyone exhausted and shared their food supplies, some of us noticed that there was a box labeled “Choco Pies” in the back of the bus. We joked about convincing the guide to sell the box to all of us. The joke went on for about a few hours, until David actually asked the guide in Vietnamese if we could buy the box of Choco Pies. After the guide answered, David told us that the box didn’t really CONTAIN any Choco Pies. The disappointing, loud “Aw!” from all the passengers sounded so pathetic that it was immediately followed by laughter.

After a while, the bus did stop at a village for a restroom break (which means peeing by the side of the road). Most were too exhausted to get out of the bus and waited inside. However, David did get out of the bus and wandered around. Some of us watched as he entered back into the bus with a ….. COKE. This excited everyone as we asked him “Where did you get that?!” When he pointed to one of the thatched wooden structures on the side of the road, many of us exited the bus and dashed into the store. I don’t think that the shopkeeper has ever seen so many eager tourists in her store wanting to buy everything she had that was edible.

This is where the dilemna of not having local currency came in. The village was very rural (I don’t think it even had electricity and so obviously no ATM). Luckily, Katrina had some local currency when she got change at the border from paying her visa and other fees. So, she gave our group a limit on how much each of us could spend. Stale shrimp chips and the artificially-flavored orange drink never tasted so good as it did there.

At sunset, the bus almost reached its destination, Muang Khua. I added “almost” because just as we thought that we completed our journey for the day, we realized that there was a river we had cross to actually get to the village! The bus did drive through a few streams during the day, but this river was too deep for the bus. There were a couple of narrow boats ready to take us across, but to pay for that service, we needed local currency that very few of us had. Luckily, Katrina had enough money for our group to ride across the river. So, we collected our backpacks and balanced onto the boat one at a time to prevent falling off from it.

After crossing the river, as we were contemplating our next move, David was negotiating with a local that owned a truck who offered to drive us to Udomxai. We figured that since Udomxai is actually on the map we had of Laos, and it has an airport, it’s bound to have an ATM, right? So, we decided to immediately go to Udomxai immediately instead of staying at Muang Khua for the night. Luckily, the truck driver accepted Vietnamese dong and US dollars, which all of us had.

After a stuffy 12+ hour bus ride, riding on the back of the truck at night was refreshing. It was so refreshing that it got chilly towards the end. The truck did stop at the next village for dinner (real food, at last!), where I ate my first bag of sticky rice which I instantly became a fan of. The ride itself took about 2 hours and we arrived in Udomxai at around 9 pm. The truck did also stop at an ATM which we quickly emptied out.

Once in Udomxai, we did the usual routine of going from guesthouse to guesthouse to find a room and preparing for the trip tomorrow to our next destination, Luang Prabang. I’ll never forget this crazy day.

Phu Quoc Island
Phu Quoc Island is on the southern end of Vietnam. Geographically closer to Cambodia than Vietnam, many Cambodians feel that the island should be theirs instead. My travel mates and I entered Vietnam from Cambodia via Ha Tien in south Vietnam. Crossing the border was relatively easy and scam-free, with no corrupt officials asking for bribe money or “extra” fees.
During the Vietnam War, Phu Quoc Island housed the largest prisoner camp. Today, it is famous for fish sauce production, pearl cultivation and beautiful beaches with clean, deep blue waters and soft yellow sand. Huge resorts have not invaded the island yet, and beaches are lined with half-filled guesthouses and small boutique hotels. It seems as if the infrastructure for tourism has been built, and is waiting for mass tourism to take off. In the meantime, the kilometers of nearly deserted beaches were great for us, as the serenity made for a peaceful stay and restful start of my Vietnam trip. The island is also very romantic with lots of vacationing couples, which prompted us to leave after a few days.

Ho Chi Minh City (Saigon)
We arrived in Saigon at night after a long 9-hour journey from Phu Quoc Island which included a taxi to the dock, a hydrofoil to Rach Gia, a taxi to the minibus station and finally a minibus to Saigon, where I was inquired relentlessly by a local about why I was travelling without a man, why I didn’t have children at my age and why I was not distraught over not having children yet (I wanted to punch him).
I have to admit that my travels have been pretty easy so far in terms of communicating with locals. Many locals I’ve interacted with in Indonesia, Thailand, Malaysia and Cambodia had enough knowledge of English that enabled me to communicate with them (even if much of the communication involved hand gestures and acting). Vietnam was a lot more challenging because it seemed that a lower percentage of the people knew English. Being dropped off at the bus station in Saigon was the start of a frustrating communcation challenge in Vietnam, as we tried for an excruciately long time to find a taxi driver who understood where we wanted to go.
The Cu Chi Tunnels and the Caodai Holy See Complex are two tourist attractions that we visited outside of Saigon. Located about 15 km outside of Saigon, the Cu Chi Tunnels are a 200 km subterranean web of kitchens, hospitals and armouries used by the Viet Cong during the Vietnam War. Even with my small size, the tunnels were dark, narrow and claustrophobic as I barely squeezed through the passages. I can’t imagine living in these tunnels for years, as the Viet Cong did. The Caodai Holy See complex in Tay Ninh serves as the headquarters for the indigenous Caodai sect, which blends Buddhism, Taoism, Confucianism and Christianity. Interestingly, Sun Yat Sen and Victor Hugo are considered saints. The temple itself is very colorful and ornate and the noontime ceremony was spectacular to witness with rows of worshippers in brightly colored garb, hypnotic chanting and the strong aroma of incense.
In Saigon, the War Remnants Museum was pretty heart-wrenching. I grew up hearing so much about the Vietnam War but I didn’t realize the extent of the effects of the war until I visited the museum. The damage from the use of Agent Orange is inhumane and mind-blowing. Today, there are still people being born with physical and mental defects because of their parents’ exposure to Agent Orange. It was interesting to see how differently the Vietnam War was portrayed from the perspective of the Vietnamese as opposed to the Americans, which was the view I grew up with.
The first negative encounter I witnessed in Vietnam was at a handicraft store. A tourist inquired about the price for an item and the shopkeeper gave the price. Five minutes later, the tourist asked about the price again, and the shopkeeper rolled his eyes and yelled across the store, “I told you it was 20,000 dongs! You don’t listen to me!” Another negative experience I encountered was when I was struggling with my duffel bag to get on a bus with a narrow door. The bus attendant impatiently yelled, “Hurry up!” as he pushed me through the door so forcefully that I nearly fell on the steps. I was happy to leave Saigon, hoping for more positive experiences as I traveled further north.

Nha Trang
Nha Trang is a popular seaside town north of Saigon. It is well developed with high rise hotels, a cable car that connects to an amusement park on an island and dive shops. I have to admit that after Thailand and Indonesia, I was a little disappointed with the diving in Nha Trang. There were huge dead coral beds due to dynamite fishing and the water was pretty cold, but it was still exhilarating to be back in the water and dive amongst marine life.

Hoi An
Based on travellers’ tales and research on Lonely Planet and travelfish.org, I was prepared to spend some money and fall in love with Hoi An. This is the city of custom made clothing, art galleries and historic architecture (Hoi An Old Town is a UNESCO World Heritage Sight). The numerous art galleries were filled with beautiful paintings mixing traditional Vietnamese subjects with modern techniques and styles. They were also very affordable, and I wish I had the space and ability to travel with art conveniently.
What I wasn’t prepared for was how delicious the food was, in particular, cao lau, a Hoi An noodle dish served with vegetables and broth. Authentic cao lau noodles are prepared with water from a particular well near Hoi An. It is absolutely delicious; a perfect blend of noodles with a faint unami flavor, fresh greens (basil, bean sprouts, mint, cilantro), a savory sauce and crunchy croutons. I loved the dish so much that I ate it everyday I was there.
The numerous tailors promising the clothes of your dreams for a cheap price made spending money very easy. As such, I felt that I spent the majority of my time in Hoi An at the tailor’s for numerous fittings, and ended up with more clothes than originally expected, which is a typical consequence of travellers to Hoi An.

Hanoi
We took a bus from Hoi An to Hanoi, with a short stopover at Hue. There is a long tunnel between Hoi An and Hue (I felt that the bus drove through the tunnel for half an hour) and it seemed that the season literally changed from summer to winter when the bus drove out of the tunnel. We stepped out of the bus at Hue, and the temperature dropped to winter conditions from the heat and humidity in Hoi An. By the time we arrived at Hanoi, we were shivering. Fortunately, I had a pair of jeans and a fleece jacket, but my travel mates discarded their jeans the night before arriving in Hanoi, thinking that they wouldn’t be needing them for the rest of our travels. Therefore, we spent the majority of our time in Hanoi shopping for warm clothes. Our hotel was located in the Old Quarter of Hanoi, with each street filled with shops selling specialized items, like clothes, hardware or handicrafts. This organization originates from the 13th century, when craftsmen moved from villages to the Old Quarter and worked and lived together in artisan guilds.
Unfortunately, we had some unpleasant encounters that strenghtened the negative perception of Vietnam from travellers. For example, Katrina was shopping for jeans and was told by a sales assistant that she could not try them on because the jeans were for men. Katrina did not care that they were men’s jeans, but the sales assistant yelled to her with an angry “No!” as she grabbed the jeans from Katrina’s hands. One bizarre incident that happened to me was that while studying a map on a busy street, a man approached me asking where I wanted to go. I started conversing with him when another man approached me pointing to my right foot. I looked at him inquisitively while trying to get directions from the other man. Then the man who pointed at my right foot crouched down beside me, took out a syringe out of his pocket and was about to jam it on my foot when my instinct took over as I quickly stepped away and yelled, “What the hell are you doing?!” I was pretty shaken up by that experience for a few minutes, and was glad to be leaving soon for Halong Bay.

Halong Bay
Halong Bay is a UNESCO Heritage Site for its geographic richness in its limestone formations and stunning beauty. We stayed overnight on a ship, and activities included kayaking, caving and drinking. It could have also included swimming if the weather was warmer (at least for me). The fog and mist created a misty romantic atmosphere that looked like a scene from a movie. I would love to go back to Halong Bay again in warmer weather.

Sapa
Ah, Sapa. What a beautiful place. Located in northern Vietnam near the Chinese border, Sapa turned out to be the highlight of my Vietnam trip. Sapa is the home to several hill tribes, with the Hmong being the most prominent. We did an overnight trekking trip and spent the night at a homestay in Ta Van village with a Hmong family. The hill tribe people live difficult, labor-intensive, simple lives dedicated to farming and handicrafts (which are beautiful). Each tribe has its own language, customs and unique patterns on their clothing that distinguishes themselves from other tribes. Initially, the tribes appear to live separately from modern society; however, there are tell-tale hints that it isn’t so, such as the satellite dish on top of a thatched roof of a house, the portrait of Ho Chi Minh hanging above stacks of hay and modern toilets in primitive looking homes. There are also government-run schools in the villages where children learn how to speak Vietnamese and other subjects. The landscape while trekking was breathtaking, especially the mountains, the stepped rice fields, the rivers and waterfalls.
Sapa town is delightful. It’s definitely touristy as most businesses operate to meet the needs of tourists going trekking and collecting handicrafts. The architecture has a “Swiss Alps ski resort” feel to them, with tall white buildings with wooden trimmings set back against tall green mountains. The people in Sapa were really helpful and friendly, which helped me leave Vietnam on a high note before going to Laos.

I hate to admit that I found Vietnam to be the least friendly of all Southeast Asian countries that I’ve visited. The negative experiences that I described above are just a few of the many I have encountered. To be fair, I’ve met some very friendly and honest people who went out of their way to make me feel welcome and didn’t rip me off. Maybe Vietnam just isn’t a tourist friendly country? Or no matter how conservatively I dressed and how polite I tried to be, I managed to offend them? It’s a pity that the number of negative experiences outweighed the number of positive experiences because Vietnam has so much natural beauty, history and culture to offer to the world.

Phnom Penh
The contrast between devastation and joy, poverty and wealth, disgust and admiration, chaos and serenity, dependency and entrepreneurialism, the mundane and absolute absurdity is more pronounced in Phnom Penh than any other city I’ve visited so far in this trip. The presence of people disfigured from landmines or medical conditions, child beggars and older foreign men with young prostitutes is sobering and downright depressing. On the other hand, there is a definite feeling of relief and joy in the air as people are finally experiencing peace and economic growth, as heard by frequent bursts of laughter and excited voices. Luxury cars are parked on sidewalks lined with garbage, beggars and booksellers approach you competing for your money and the lawless, panic-inducing traffic is juxtaposed with the serene Tonle Sap River.
The absurdity that is Phnom Penh was felt most strongly by me when my travel mates and I visited the Killing Fields of Choeung Ek and the Tuol Sleng Museum. Both were solemn reminders of the hell and inhumane suffering that the Khmer Rouge caused to the entire country. The massive tower of human bones at the killing fields and the sheer amount of photographs of people tortured and killed at the museum were profoundly depressing. After visiting both places, we climbed back on our tuk-tuk, and our driver asked, “OK, now you want to go to shooting range?”. Why would I want to shoot M-60s and AK-47s right after visiting places that exhibits the darkest side of the human spirit?

Kampot
Kampot is a small riverside town in southern Cambodia with a French architectural legacy, and a pleasant respite from chaotic Phnom Penh. For a small town, it seems like a high percentage of NGO workers live/work there. Kampot is known for its pepper, and before the war, no self-respecting French restaurant in Paris would be without Kampot pepper. Kampot is also a good base to visit Bokor National Park and the Bokor hill station, an assortment of old, abandoned buildings built by the French in the 1920s. I did a day-long trek in the jungle to the hill station, which was rugged and beautiful (and much needed exercise).

Sihanoukville
For a Cambodian beach holiday, Sihanoukville is the place to go. I stayed at Serendipity Beach, where I met up with Katrina, a fellow backpacker who I first met in Bali. We compared our itineraries for the remainder of our trips and they were almost identical, so we decided to travel together, which is excellent! Serendipity Beach itself is nice, not fabulous. The beach is lined with shacks serving food and drinks, the water can get pretty rough and the fine sand has a beige hue. This popular beach attracts a constant flow of beggars and people trying to sell you fruits, bracelets, snacks, massages, manicures and pedicures. To really get away from it all, you can hop on a boat and go to an island off of Sihanoukville where the beaches are so much nicer and you can practically have the whole island to yourself. There are a few dive operators in Sihanoukville, but the really good dive spots are six hours away from the mainland. There’s a big backpacker community and the core group of people I hung out with grew bigger and bigger as the days went by.

I’ll be spending the next few weeks in a small town near Siem Reap volunteering at a school and teaching children English.

I’ve educated myself by reading Lonely Planet, Travelfish and my guesthouse instructions on what to expect and what to do, as it’s notorious for its dysfunction and scamming touts (on the Cambodian side). I’m very grateful that I did, otherwise I’m sure that I would have paid more money than necessary for visa processing (which I don’t need, as I’m travelling with a Singapore passport) and extra transportation. Going through the Thai checkpoint was easy. The real clusterf$&k is between the Thai and Cambodian checkpoints. People started approaching me and pointed at different directions of where I should go (at the same time trying to convince me to give money to them for whatever reason), and there were no obvious signs directing me to the Cambodian checkpoint. People (and animals) were walking about, there were hawkers selling drinks and food, and did I really see a hotel/casino in the middle of this? I found a makeshift building and started walking towards it. A man approached me holding a sign with my name and asked “Are you Janet?” My guesthouse arranged to have a connection at the checkpoint (Sambath) to help me with getting through immigration smoothly; unfortunately sometimes people pose as Sambath towards the Thai border to sell expedited visas or offer transport. The makeshift building turned out to be the Cambodian checkpoint, and Sambath really was Sambath so everything turned out well.

Siem Reap

Siem Reap is a lovely town with remnants of colonial French architecture and culture. Because of Angkor Wat, it’s also very developed and touristy, with four star hotels, international restaurants and high(er) end nightlife options. There is a backpacker element to the town, but it’s less visible than in other places, due to the sheer number of package tourists and wealthier travellers. Still, things are pretty cheap here. Where else can I have a delicious French bistrot dinner for $5? Speaking of which, the food is really good here. Khmer cuisine is (obviously) similar to Vietnamese and Thai cuisine and very flavorful. The French influence on Cambodia means that the baguettes and croissants here are amazing. I haven’t tried the exotic meats yet (snake, alligator, etc.) but that’s a must-do for me before I leave Cambodia (I’ve adopted the Anthony Bourdain diet of I’ll-try-anything-once).
Angelina Jolie seems to be the most popular Hollywood celebrity here (my guide pointed out the hotel she stayed in, and the exact locations of where Tomb Raider was filmed) and a restaurant I ate at had a cocktail named after her. I hear her name at least once a day.
Siem Reap at night is lively. The Psar Chaa area seems to be the most happening part of town, with a street unofficially known as ‘Pub Street.’ In addition to bars and restaurants, there’s a night market, lots of massage parlors and fish spas (you stick your feet in water filled with fish and they nibble your dead skin away).

The Temples of Angkor

It’s mind-blowing, inspiring, humbling, overwhelming. It’s exceeded my expectations, and I haven’t seen all of it . I wish that I was more educated about the history of Angkor and this region to understand it better. Tourists from around the globe are flocking to visit this wonder of the world, and it’s evident by the number of languages heard on the sites (and Siem Reap) everyday. It’s nice to see restoration efforts by UNESCO in collaboration with governments from different countries (most noticeably France, Germany, Japan, India, Italy-ahem, where is the US?). I rented a bicycle and rode around the main site for two days, which is a really intimate, hot, sweaty and perhaps crazy way to experience the temples. By bicycling, I really understood the vastness of the ruins. I purposely omitted describing the temples since they’re best described by the numerous books on Angkor.

I leave for Phnom Penh tomorrow. Siem Reap is a charming and lovely place, and I can easily spend a lot of time here but there’s so much to see and do here!

Ubud
“Hello, transport?” “Yes, please, taxi?”
If there is one thing that I did not like about Ubud, it was the drivers who hung out everywhere in central Ubud and asked me if I wanted transport every time I passed them. I got approached by them literally at least 50 times a day. Otherwise, Ubud was lovely. Great cultural events, wonderful art museums, countless spas to choose from, delicious food, cheeky monkeys; there was so much to do, see and eat!
One of the highlights of my time in Ubud was my meeting Ketut Liyer. If you have read “Eat Pray Love,” you’ll recognize him as the 9th generation Balinese medicine man whom the author spent a lot of time with in Bali. He’s also a painter and wood carver. I ran across a painting at the Museum of Fine Arts (Museum Puri Lukisan) done by a Ketut Liyer from Pengosekan. At first, I thought, “Ketut Liyer. Why does this name sound so familiar?…..Wow, could it be the one from the book?”
Later the same day, I was walking in Pengosekan, a village south of Ubud where many artists and have their studios and noticed a humble looking sign that said “Ketut Liyer, Painting and Wood Ca[r]ving.” My heart skipped a beat and I thought, “Is this the Ketut Liyer from the book? Should I take a chance and just walk into his house?” Thinking I had nothing to lose, I did. Just as the book described, he was sitting on his porch wearing a golf shirt and sarong, talking to a Balinese patient. There was a group of Brazilians/Portugese twentysomethings sitting across from them. I asked one of them if they were waiting in line to see him. She said yes and invited me to join them to see him.
When our turn came, we all took off our shoes and sat on the porch with him. The author’s description of him is quite accurate; he does resemble Yoda and really looks like the happiest man alive. He repeated himself a lot, saying “I’m very happy to meet you” numerous times and showing us his mouth with missing teeth. For all of us, he read our faces, palms, knees and back, telling us our futures.
On myself, he first inspected my face and sai,  ”Ah, very good. Very pretty, merry eyes, lips as sweet as honey. I can make magic painting for you. Beautiful as a queen. You will be beautiful for the rest of your life. You have pretty energy” (He’s very good in flattery.) He asked me to squint my eyes, after which he said “Very intelligent. You see both right and wrong. You must make sure that you choose right.” Apparently, the lines formed between the eyebrows indicate how intelligent you are.
He then took my left hand and said, “You will live long. Live to be 100. You will marry once and have two children. Health good. Good liver, heart, blood. You are impatient; you need to be more patient. You have influence over people. Use your pretty energy to influence people. You will be good at whatever you do and be rich. You will always have more than enough money.”
Then he felt my wrist and exclaimed “Oh! Strong energy! Strong sex!” and continued to say something that I’m too shy to write in print.
He asked me to show him my knees and asked if I drove a car or motorbike at home. I said car, to which he said after he inspected my tibia, “Good. No accident. But still you must be careful and drive slower.” He touched my knees and said, “Very good. No arthritis. No rheumatism.”
Finally, he inspected my back and said, “The universe sends energy to the crown of your head and to your back. I see gardenias on your back. You have the perfume of gardenias.” (I have no idea what that means. I’ll have to research that one further.)
We spent about an hour with him, with him chanting some mantras using bells and explaining a little bit of meditation. By then, a Balinese family and more Westerners have shown up waiting patiently for him. So we said good bye to him and left his compound.
I don’t believe everything he told me (I don’t think I’ll live to 100) yet it’s nice to hold on to his predictions in what the future will bring for me.

Full Moon Party
The Full Moon party was decent. I went with some really nice Londoners I got acquainted with while staying in Haad Yuan. After a day of rain, the waves were huge and angry that night. That said, the boat rides to and from the party were rocky and they almost overturned! The sight of the party from the sea was really pretty with bright LED lights and fire-spinning across the length of the beach.
There were multiple sound systems playing different genres of electronic music across the beach. It seemed like each guesthouse, resort or bar located on the beach had its own sound system. The scene reminded me of a carnival more than anything else, with lots of food and drink stalls. Overall, it was a fun party, with a young, enthusiastic crowd. However, the word that kept on creeping into my mind the whole time was ‘sloppy.’ Lots of people were completely drunk, the beach was littered with trash, many were using the sea as their toilet as others went for a midnight swim and there were a fair number of foot injuries from people walking around bare-footed. Plus the music was just OK, lots of club hits and remixes of mainstream songs.

Half Moon Festival
On the other hand, I thought that the Half Moon Festival was excellent. It was in the Ban Tai jungle and occurs twice a month, the week before and after the Full Moon Party. It’s smaller and there’s just one sound system. The admission fee is higher (300 Baht instead of 100 Baht for FMP) but it includes a free drink. The DJs played some really good hard trance that bordered on techno. The crowd seemed a little older and definitely less out of control. I went with a group of people from Haad Salad that has organically formed over the past few days, which makes for really fun afternoons hanging out on the beach and engaging conversations during dinner and drinks.

Initially, I almost regretted staying at Haad Salad, thinking that it was a little too isolated and away from where the action is. However, I’m so glad that I’m here. I’ve been here for a week and I feel like I’m part of the community; the locals here call me ‘Hotel California’ (because of where I’m from), the restaurant I go to frequently knows what I’m going to order and I have a group of fellow travelers to hang out with.
I’m sad that my stay at Haad Salad will end in a few days as I’ll be spending the next part of the trip in a 10-day meditation at Wat Kow Tahm located in the southern part of Koh Phangan.