Bluefox808 Adventures!

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2010-10-22T11:51:00.002+08:00

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Kobe: Where's the Beef?

2010-08-19T07:00:00.004+08:00

"I am totally willing to drop serious money on a bomb-ass steak."
--Steven, a Taiwanese-American engineer in Kyoto

My Kobe beef steak

This review grabbed me:

"A-1 has a relaxed atmosphere and serves thick slices of Kobe beef. The teppanyaki steak (broiled on a hot plate) is cooked in a spice, wine, and soy marinade and served with charcoal-grilled vegetables and crisp garlic potatoes."
--Fodor's Japan 2009

Ding ding ding! We have a winner!

Is it worth it to travel a long way, just for the food? Yes! Japanese food will never taste the same for me again. Once you've eaten "the real thing," nothing else compares. Kobe beef was available all over Japan, but I felt I had just had to eat it in Kobe. The only way to get the complete experience.

As usual, I got lost coming out of the train station. Finally, I got my bearings and found A-1.

A-1 restaurant

The surprising thing was how the place didn't feel Japanese at all. The wooden counter and bar stools could have come from any pub in the world. It actually felt more like a pub than a dark, smoky steakhouse.

I pulled up a seat at the bar. The cook, wearing a pristine white uniform, came over and silently handed me a menu. The struggle was to avoid staring at the prices. Was that the cost of a steak, or one week's rent in Thailand?

"Should I spend the money or not?" was a recurring dilemma for travelers. Certain things should only be done right, or not at all. This was one of those times. Like that famous Gucci slogan: "Quality is remembered long after the price is forgotten."

After I told him my order, the cook unwrapped some Kobe beef and carefully slid them onto steel prongs. Then he laid the meat on the grill. Very efficient, tidy movements. He could have been a surgeon.

Preparing the meat.

Kobe beef on the grill

The fun part was when the cook switched the steak into a frying pan and proceeded to flambée it to hell. Flames exploded up into the air. The mark of a real pro: without changing expression, he knew exactly how many millimeters to lean his head back so he didn't lose his eyebrows.

Flambée!

He picked up various bottles and poured the delicious liquids all over the steaks. By now, the aroma was reaching my nose. Immediate thought: when will the food be done?!

Soon, was the answer. The cook faced me and signaled with his hands that I should put on the napkin like a bib. The napkin had long narrow strips that I used to tie it behind my neck. Now I was ready.

Cook with steak platter

The cook deftly slid the steak off the frying pan into a black sizzling platter. He turned around and set the platter down in front of me. The oil and juices crackled, popping off into my bib. Steam carried the heady smells to my nose.

I picked up my chopsticks. There's always a moment of fear when taking the first bite of an expensive meal. Did I just waste my money on crappy food?

Picking up the steak with chopsticks

As I bit down into the steak, it was soft and chewy. Just as my teeth met each other, the sauces hit my tongue. Light, savory, with a hint of sweetness. Delicate and balanced mix of flavors, totally different from steak sauces I've tasted in America.

This was one satisfied diner.

Fortified with a good meal, I was ready to explore Kobe. What struck me was how international it felt, for a relatively small city. Cafés, European restaurants, and live music joints were the norm. So cool that it almost made me forget Taipei.

Then it hit me: Kobe was a smaller, friendlier Hong Kong. Both cities have big ports. All that trade lent a cosmopolitan character to both cities. They have lots of foreign-oriented places for expats to hang out.

Walking among the colonial houses felt like a trip through Europe-land. There was a British House, a French house, etc. They seemed dressed up as Japanese stereotypes of what those countries were like.

French house

British house

At nightfall, I headed into Chinatown. I'd heard that Yokohama has the biggest Chinatown, but Kobe's was supposed to be better.

Buddha statue

Entrance gate

Having lived in China before, visiting Chinatowns are now a weird experience for me. These communities have their own separate character, totally apart from the motherland. The average street in China has a household goods shop with brooms and buckets on the sidewalk, a DVD shop with pirated movies, a "hair salon" that's really a whorehouse, etc. Not charming at all.

Kobe's Chinatown shuts down relatively early. I got there around 9 P.M. and the place was deserted, like a Chinese ghost town. Night markets are really unique only to Taiwan. I strolled around and had the whole area to myself. That's one thing you'll never find in China: quiet.

Temple and red lanterns

Kitschy and tacky fun, like other Chinatowns. This was the China only seen in postcards. Kobe had the only other clean Chinatown I'd seen, besides the one in Singapore.

Cooks at a food stall

When I walked away, I marveled at how Japan had so many cool cities. It wasn't all about Tokyo. The expat bug bit me: I wondered if I could get a job in Japan . . .

The Big O: Osaka

2010-07-21T05:20:00.007+08:00

" . . . the Japanese are the world's champion modifiers. Only the most serious restauranteurs refrain from editing some of the authenticity out of foreign cuisines . . ."
--Fodor's Japan 2009, pg. 90

Two girls posing in Dotonbori, a nightlife area.

A rock band sets up near JR Osaka train station.

Chika and me at Shinsekai, a local area.

"Where's the coolest place in Osaka?" I asked Chika, a Japanese girl who lived in the city.

She thought for a moment. "America-mura!" she said. (Translates into Americatown.)

Imagine that "wah-wah-waaah" sound in comedy shows when a joke falls flat. That's what I heard in my head.

"What do mean, Americatown?" I said, flabbergasted. I didn't travel all the way to Japan to see U.S. culture.

"Do not worry," Chika said. "It is still Japanese!"

That reminded me of something I read in my guidebook, how the people can take foreign things and make them Japanese.

"Okay, let's go," I said at last.

Indeed, we wandered into a land of luxury department stores that could've been anywhere in the world. The local effects were in the little things: a snack bar that served Coke and okonomiyaki, an American flag fluttering in the wind as everyone chatted in Japanese.

Two girls eating at a snack bar

An American flag outside a trendy clothing shop

In that moment, Japan seemed very much like America. As different as the two countries are, both are able to absorb outside influences and yet hold on to their national identities. Japan received most of its culture from China, via Korea. But no one would ever confuse Tokyo with Beijing.

Turn to the United States. French fries are Belgian, hamburgers are German, and pizza is Italian, and yet now they are stereotypically American foods. Fried chicken is so old, it traces its origins back to Europe and Africa.

A loud rumbling noise jolted me out of my thoughts. I turned and saw a monster truck roaring by. Just in case everyone around didn't hear him, the driver revved the motor once again with feeling.

Monster truck

I had to laugh. The louder the engine, the bigger the asshole.

"What is funny?" Chika asked.

I pointed at the monster truck growling away from us. "In America, my friends and I make fun of people who drive big trucks and noisy motorcycles."

"Why?"

"We joke that the drivers try to look big, because they are so small," I explained. I held my index finger and thumb an inch apart, in that gesture that is universally understood by girls.

"Ah!" Chika held a hand over her mouth and giggled.

Salarymen eating at a Japanese curry fast-food restaurant

"You were right," I admitted to Chika. "America-mura is still very Japanese."

"I know, I live in Osaka!" She lowered her voice. "We should not stay here too late."

Perplexed, I asked, "Why is that?" Japan was one of the safest countries I've ever visited.

"At night, it is dangerous. Some bad people sell cocaine," she said.

I laughed. "Now that sounds like America!"

Zuboraya, a restaurant famous for serving fugu (poison blowfish)

Photo: Three boys get onto a bullet train

Photo: The Hikari Rail Star bullet train (shinkansen)

Inside Information

Getting into town

Most trains arrive at JR Osaka or JR Shin-Osaka station. Shinkansen (bullet trains) usually go to Shin-Osaka. They're two different stations, so double-check to make sure you arrive at the right one.

From there, you have to take the "Loop Line" to your final destination. Be careful, the Loop Line is super confusing! It looks deceptively simple, but it's not. The different lines don't always stop at every station. This happened to me when I changed trains on it. I seemed to be going further away from the city. When I called my Osaka hostel to get directions, the guy said, "You're almost back in Nara!"

Where to stay

If you have a choice between basing yourself in Kyoto or Osaka, choose Kyoto. That's the best advice I can give. The quality and quantity of budget accommodation is much better. There are also more things to see in Kyoto. Osaka is more of a place to do business.

The good news is that Osaka has really cheap budget hotels, centered around JR Shin-Imamiya station. The bad news is that it's a really poor, ugly area. You won't get a positive impression of Osaka if you stay there.

The budget hotels are all roughly the same. The customers are primarily factory workers and low-level salarymen. For this reason, the room rates are shockingly low: around 2,500 yen (US$30) a night for a private room. Probably the best hotel deal for a major city in Japan.

Lucky for you guys, a nice new hostel opened up in Osaka about a month after I left. It's called Hostel 64. A funky designer hostel, close to Dotonbori and all the nightlife. I really wish I could've stayed there!

I stayed at Lemon House. The price and location were great, but the rooms were appalling! Way too cramped and messy. It's a "gaijin house" meant for long-stay foreigners, who are studying in Japan or looking for jobs. I did meet some nice people, but I wouldn't stay there again.

I've heard good things about Capsule Hotel Asahi Plaza Shinsaibashi. What you give up in space, you make up for in location since it's in the middle of all the action. Like all capsule hotels, it's strictly men-only.

Nara: The Moment of Truth

2010-06-19T17:09:00.005+08:00

"If you think Kyoto is great, Nara is even better!"
--Daniel, a Polish exchange student

Todaiji Temple

Deer in front of Todaiji entrance gate

Close encounters with deer

The "path to enlightenment" was behind the Buddha's butt. One of the wooden support pillars had a small hole in it. According to legend, the hole was the same size as the Buddha's nostril. If you could crawl through, you would be granted eternal wisdom.

Daibutsu Buddha statue

There was a nice ring of truth. The Buddha had to sneeze me out as human snot! Then I would have shown that I was worthy of his knowledge.

I got down on my hands and knees, then shoved myself into the Buddha's nose. The opening was too narrow for me to lie on my stomach. I twisted around onto my left side and used my feet to try to push myself through. Then all motion stopped.

Shit, I was stuck!

First Revelation: Panic

My feet flailed against the floor. I wanted desperately to push myself forward. Unfortunately, I was lying sideways and my shoes couldn't get enough traction into the ground. How could I be so stupid?!

What if it took an emergency crew to get me out? Worse, what if it was covered by the TV news? "Another silly gaijin got stuck in the hole at the Todaiji Temple," a reporter would say. "Once again, we have proof that the Japanese diet is superior to the American diet."

Kasuga Taisha Shrine

Second Revelation: Adapt

I quit using my feet. Needed to use my brain. I wiggled in different directions, to get an idea of how much free space I had. The answer was none. I'm way too big for small holes. This problem happens a lot.

Assessed the situation. Time to check for visibility. I turned my head up to try to look ahead of me. Before I could do it all the way, the back of my head smacked against wood that was laid there in the year 752. Can't move and can't see.

Maybe I could shrug my shoulders to move forward? I tried as hard as I could. Moved about two millimeters. At this rate, Japan would go through ten prime ministers before I got out.

Kokufuji Temple

Third Revelation: Improvise

All I had left were my hands. Correction: make that one hand. When I crawled in, my right hand was at my side. This deep into the hole, my right hand was pinned to my waist. Totally useless!

Had to use the one hand still at my disposal. I felt for the opening, with my hand flopping around like a dying fish. Just banged against more and more walls. Where the hell was the end of the tunnel?

Fortune teller booth at Kasuga Taisha Shrine

Fourth Revelation: Overcome

Finally, I felt my fingers curl around the edge of the opening. I pulled. Nothing. I was really wedged in tight! Come on, I summoned my dance muscles. The muscles that can power me through a whole night of clubbing.

Then I felt my shoulder scrape against the ground. I was moving! I pulled harder, and tried to use my right elbow to give myself an extra push.

My head cleared the hole and sweet sweet air poured into my lungs. Free at last! I kicked away from that wooden womb and crawled into the world totally reborn.

The Enlightened One emerges!

Toei Kyoto Studio Park: Ninja vs. Samurai

2010-05-28T15:44:00.013+08:00

"Japan is all about the side trips."
--Marie, an Australian girl who taught English in Japan

"Welcome to my shop," said the ninja to his victims.

Me and a ninja doing an attack pose

Me with a samurai

"Meet ninjas and samurai!" the headline screamed from the guidebook, Kyoto's Greatest Travel Tips. I'd picked it up from a pile of books at my hostel. The book happened to fall open on that page, which described the Toei Kyoto Studio Park.

It was a guidebook aimed at children, but no matter. I didn't know the Toei Studio Park even existed before I came to Japan. But once I saw that headline, I was hooked!

When I travel, I try to have a balance of must-see places with other places that I'm personally interested in. Some destinations are so famous that you have to go. Kyoto is a requirement for any Japan itinerary. The Toei Studio isn't. Yet I always get more into travel when going to a place I feel like I've "discovered."

The Toei Studio is that curious phemonon: a tourist trap without tourists. Maybe it was because it was raining that day. More likely, it's because the studio isn't prominently listed in guidebooks. This is really strange. When I tell other other travelers about the studio, their reactions are like, "That sounds so cool! I'd have gone there if I'd known about it!"

I joke that the Toei Studio is a Japan-land. Every clichéd image of Japan is there: giant robots, Power Rangers, and sword-wielding warriors. I kept expecting Godzilla to stomp through and blast some buildings with his radioactive breath.

Super Sentai mecha

The Metal Heroes

2-story tall statue of Masked Rider, the world's ugliest superhero

Of course it's all totally fake, which is a nice lesson in how travel can shatter stereotypes. The only place in Japan that had all the iconic figures of Japan was a theme park.

My favorite section of the park was where they did a live studio demonstration of how a scene gets filmed. I have an avid interest in filmmaking, so it was fun to see the Japanese approach to shooting movies.

Director talking to a ninja

Although the presentation was entirely in Japanese, it was easy to see what was going on. A fight scene is like a dance, with careful movements and precision timing. Safety is the first priority. It's up to the actors' skill at performance to make it look dangerous.

The director choreographed the fight sequence, even taking up a stick against the ninja to show what he wanted. Then he had the actors run through the scene a few times until they had it down. At the end of the presentation, the audience got to watch the finished fight scene!

Director fighting with a ninja

Ninja fights samurai!

The studio park is meant for children, but I felt like an excited 10-year-old boy while wandering around the historical village set. Where could I become a samurai superstar?

That's when I saw the Costume Photo Corner. For a fee, I could wear a costume and get a professional photograph. The hardest part was choosing a costume! I was overwhelmed by the wide selection of traditional clothes I could wear. I rejected a lot of awesome suits. Mainly because I felt a Japanese guy would cool in that, but I'd look like an idiot. After a lot of consideration, I chose a costume.

I never realized how complicated Japanese garments were. Two young Japanese women assisted me in wrapping and tying the layers of robes properly. I felt like an emperor being dressed by servant girls.

The photo assistants really micro-managed my pose as if I was a mannequin. They'd move my fists a millimeter in one direction or another. A girl tilted my head for the best angle toward the camera. At one point, I wondered if they'd pull at the corners of my mouth, to adjust my smile!

The actual photo-taking lasted less than 10 seconds. Then the girls were ripping the clothes off me. I didn't even get their names.

Meet the new samurai superstar!

Kyoto: The Temple Remix

2010-05-07T16:09:00.015+08:00

"If you go Kyoto, you gonna be sick of temples!"
--Hiro, a staff member at Hostel K's House Tokyo Oasis.

Me at Kinkakuji (a.k.a. Golden Pavilion)

Me and Steven at Ryoanji Zen Rock Garden

Me at Fushimi Inari Shrine

I was struggling to get that perfect shot. I couldn't get a good photo with the Silver Pavilion! I'd spent half an hour asking passing Japanese tourists to take a photo of me, with the pavilion in the background. Every time, the resulting photo was awful. The framing was off, I'd be too small to be recognized, or something else would be wrong.

In the book Shutting Out the Sun: How Japan Created Its Own Lost Generation, the author mentions a study of how Japanese and Americans take photos differently. Two groups of students--American and Japanese--were given cameras. Their assignment: take pictures of your best friend. The Americans would shoot close-ups, emphasizing the individual's identity. In the Japanese photos, the best friend would be tiny, with the background more dominant. Environment over the individual.

Back to me at the pavilion. I was on the verge of giving up. No matter how many times I tried to be a director, the shots wouldn't come out right. Time to quit.

Then I noticed a Japanese girl in a kimono. She'd been waiting for me to see her. She held out a digital camera, gesturing for me to take a picture of her and her friends.

If I can't get a good picture, I'll help someone else get one, I reasoned. I aimed the camera. I waved my hand for the girls to move closer together. They shuffled toward the center. Slowly, I moved forward, filling the frame with their beautiful kimono-clad figures. Tapped the shutter button.

Kimono girls at Silver Pavilion

With a flourish, I showed the camera screen to the girls. Their smiles of delight made it all worthwhile. Then they huddled together and discussed something. A decision was reached. One girl beckoned me to stand with them.

I couldn't believe my luck! I gave my camera to a woman standing nearby. Before she could start backing away (and making us shrink in the photo), I told her to take the picture from where she was already standing. She did. Success!

Me with kimono girls

We bowed to each other and parted ways. It wasn't until I left that this thought occurred to me: why didn't she ask one of the other guys hanging around to take her photo?

The fleeting friendships are one of the sadder parts of travel. I'll meet someone cool, then they'll be gone the next day. This happens a lot in "transit" cities like Hong Kong, which people use as gateways to somewhere else. And if it's an expensive gateway city without signature sights, it's even more serious. In Tokyo, I had new hostel roommates every night!

Luckily, Kyoto was filled with things to see. For many travelers Kyoto is Old Japan. So my new roommates were there for a whole week, the same as me. What a big break!

Steven, Christian, and Ken at a conveyor-belt sushi restaurant

Christian was of Indonesian Chinese origin, but grew up in the states. I cheered up when Ken and Steven said they were Taiwanese-American. I love Taiwan! We spent the most of the first night chatting about partying in Taipei.

We ended up eating our way through Kyoto together. It was basically a crash course in Japanese cuisine.

Breakfast: Noodles

Paying the noodle lady

Soba noodles with a side order of inari

Lunch: Sushi

100-yen sushi. Gotta grab those bargains!

Ordering sushi via touchscreen

Ken ponders his sushi plate.

Dinner: Yakitori

Various kinds of chicken yakitori and Asahi beer

Me chowing down on yakitori

Snack: Giant rice crackers

Giant cracker vendor

Choose your flavor.

It's a cliche to say that foods are better when eaten in the original country. Like how Chinese food in China is better than a Chinatown in the West. This is blasphemy for me to say, but I have had good Chinese food outside of China. I actually think the Chinese food in Malaysia is even better, because they use Southeast Asian spices and Indian curries.

However, the Japanese food in Japan is on a whole other level above what's served anywhere else. Everything is just so much better: the rice, the noodles, the seaweed, even the soy sauce is amazing.

The noodle joints are really basic. An old woman will boil a pack of noodles for under a minute, scoop the noodles into a bowl, add some broth, and it's done. So simple, yet the food is so fantastic.

When people talk about how expensive Japan is, the first thing that springs to my mind isn't the $100 Kobe beef steaks. It's a steamed bun I ate in Kyoto.

The 400-yen steamed bun.

It cost 400 yen (US$4.25). In China, you can get a steamed bun (包子) for less than 1 yuan (US$0.15). The Japan price is outrageous! According to my calculations, you could buy about 28 Chinese steamed buns for that. Curiosity got the better of me. I just had to know what a 400-yen steamed bun tasted like. The verdict: good, but not that good.

To avoid bombarding you guys with every temple I saw, I'll just write about my favorite one: the Kiyomizudera Temple. Temples in Kyoto are surprisingly small and ornate. Quite a contrast from their giant, flamboyant counterparts in Beijing or even Nikko.

The Kiyomizudera was big and had lots of nooks and crannies to explore. Best of all, it's cheaper than the more famous temples. The admission fee was 300 yen (US$3.19), about half the price of other temples in Kyoto.

Girls washing hands before entering the temple.

Guys ringing bells.

The main building was a huge wooden structure against a mountain. Along the main balcony, people crowded the rails to get their photos taken with the vast backdrop.

Kiyomizudera main balcony

Pagoda with city in background

In that complex is the Jishu Shrine, where there are two "love stones," placed 18 meters apart. The saying is, if you can walk from one stone to the other with your eyes closed, you will find true love.

Girl trying to find the stone with eyes closed

Instead of doing that, I relied on the good old hostel magic.

Jumi played bass guitar in a rock band. She had also studied abroad in Melbourne, so she spoke English with a fun Australian accent.

Jumi and me at Sandal Wood hostel

Trusting Jumi's excellent fashion sense, I asked her where I could buy a cheap kimono. I thought that would be the ultimate Japanese souvenir, having a kimono to use as a bed robe.

She suggested I hit the Kobo-san Market, which was held on the 21st of every month at the Toji Temple. Jumi said it was a famous shopping area for antiques and traditional Japanese crafts. She said a lot of people sold secondhand goods at low prices.

Toji Temple and moat

The scheduling was tight, since I was supposed to move to Osaka on that day. Had to do some last-minute improvising. I checked out of the hostel in the morning, stashed my backpack in a locker at Kyoto train station, then went to the Kobo-san Market. My new plan was to go to Osaka after visiting the market.

Usually I hate disrupting my plans, but I'm glad I made an exception this time. Kobo-san Market was my favorite attraction in Kyoto! It was full of local color and local people. If you're going to visit Kyoto, I highly recommend timing your visit so that you can be there on the 21st of the month.

This woman vendor was really loud and aggressive! Surprising for a Japanese.

Scene from Kobo-san Market

Ceremonial dolls

Vendors cooking okonomiyaki

I kept my eyes open for any kimonos. The first stall I went to had some cool kimonos, but they cost 3,500 yen (US$37). I decided not to rush and buy something right away. I've done that at other markets in the past. Later I'd see the same product at another stall for a cheaper price. Then I'd kick myself for being impulsive.

In the back of the market, I finally found what I was looking for. A table piled high with secondhand kimonos selling for only 1,000 yen (US$10.55)!

Secondhand kimonos for sale

I dove right in, picking out the coolest designs I could find. Narrowed it down to three finalists. I tried them all on. They all fit okay. Then I took a deep breath and forced myself not to get excited and buy them all immediately. I closely examined each kimono, looking for holes, loose threads, etc.

Only one passed my inspection. That's the one I bought. Ah, I couldn't wait to get home and wear my new samurai pajamas!

Your Personal Tokyo

2010-04-05T13:40:00.033+08:00

Kimono girls at Senso-ji Temple

DJ Makai at Club Velours

Chefs at Maguro Bito, a restaurant that serves kaiten sushi ("conveyor belt" sushi)

Writing my Japanese name in kanji characters for a calligraphy lesson

"Show me your Tokyo," I said to my friends who lived there. They answered the call.

Big cities are a challenge. Tokyo is uniquely difficult. It has the most complex subway system I've ever seen; has acres upon acres of tiny lanes with no addresses; and has the Japanese language itself, which is notoriously impenetrable to outsiders.

I was counting on my friends to lead me through the labyrinth of the "Eastern Capital," which is the literal meaning of Tokyo's name (東京).

Shibuya at night

John was an Australian surfer/translator who was open to sharing the secrets of his city with me. We'd met at the famous World Scholar House in Taipei, a shabby but lovable hostel where I made most of my long-term friends in Taiwan.

Getting a good view is key when visiting a big city. I read that the Tokyo Tower and Tokyo Metropolitan Government Office were good spots. "Follow me," John said. He knew a much better vantage point.

We took the metro to Shinjuku station and went into the Takashimaya Times Square department store. In the elevator, John pushed the button for the 14th floor.

When the elevator doors opened, we strode out. John pointed and said, "Men's restroom. Best view of Tokyo." We smacked open the door and entered.

An old man was pissing at a urinal. He ignored us as we climbed up onto the ledge. The men's restroom had a wall of glass facing the skyscrapers of Shinjuku. I immediately started snapping pictures.

Shinjuku skyline

"What if women want to see this?" I wondered. "Does the women's restroom have the same view?"

"Can't say," John said, laughing. "I've never been!"

Later, we went to the 13th floor outside terrace for more views.

Me and John on the 13th floor terrace

Next, John knew of a place that was geek heaven. Akihabara, I thought. Instead, he led me to Nakano Broadway. While I checked out the shops, I told him: "In America, maybe there would be one store in the whole mall that carried this kind of stuff. But this is the whole mall!"

John with cosplay costumes

Me having a close encounter

Dragon Ball Z animation cels

Dinner was next on the agenda. My choice was ramen noodles. In America, it was what we lived on as university students. In Japan, it's a much higher form of cuisine. John knew of a great Fukuoka-style ramen joint.

My favorite part was that each table had a shelf of condiments. The best one was a bowl of fresh garlic cloves and a garlic press. We wasted no time in adding pressed garlic to our ramen.

John using a garlic press

Me using a garlic press

The noodles were much softer and more filling than their inferior American cousins. The real highlight was the broth: rich, savory, and packed with flavor.

John and I would have far-ranging conversations, often comparing Taiwan and Japan. He was quite adept at describing the quirks of Japanese people. "They're all about giving a good performance," John said. "When they face a situation, they try to give the best performance of how they're supposed to act. If it's a new situation, they get very uncomfortable. Even being uncomfortable is another performance for them."

I talked about how Japanese and Taiwanese had different approaches to money. "Japanese are long-term investors. They'll buy a stock and hold onto it forever. That pisses off stock brokers, because they make their money on transaction fees from trading. So I read this Taipei Times article about how foreign banks want to expand in Taiwan. Taiwanese will buy and sell at the drop of a hat."

The pricing system at Maguro Bito. At the end of the meal, the waiter counts your empty sushi plates to calculate the bill.

What about drinks? Drinking is expensive, but Tokyo can be extra painful. Luckily, John had inside knowledge of a small bar hidden in Shibuya.

"It's kind of an izakaya pub where you order small snacks as you drink. Like the Japanese equivalent of tapas bars in Spain," he explained. That sounded really cool, like the places I went to in Barcelona. He said this bar had a good mix of Japanese and foreigners. The really Japanese joints aren't always so welcoming to foreigners, he warned. His bar was an exception.

When we arrived at Tasu Ichi, John replied to a text message from work while I looked over the extensive snack menu.

John at Tasu Ichi bar

The place was standing only, with no seats and tall bar tables. John said this was to encourage customers to move around and socialize more. It worked. Japanese really let loose while they're drinking. All that quiet politeness disappears! Conversations in multiple languages drifted around us. Ah, this was what being abroad was all about.

Another friend, Christina, took me around Akihabara. Some of her friends had started Tokyo Realtime, which sold audio tours of popular neighborhoods in the city.

Most of my readers are friends I know personally. Christina was different. She had found my blog through a mutual Japanese friend. She contacted me via e-mail, and I hadn't met her until I got to Tokyo. Did I have more fans that I don't know about?

I thought I'd be disappointed by Akihabara. I've already seen electronics markets all over Asia. My laptop came from Guanghua Computer Market in Taipei, my old Casio camera was from Pacific Digital Plaza in Shanghai, and my USB stick was from Plaza Low Yat in Kuala Lumpur.

What attracted me was the party atmosphere. Other electronics markets are pure businesses. Akihabara felt much more fun, like a carnival as much as a market. There were lots of geeks doing "cosplay," dressing up as comic-book and anime characters. I thought fans of Star Trek and Dungeons & Dragons were dedicated, but the Japanese otaku (geeks) have got them beat.

Christina arranged for me to be a test subject for an audio tour of Akihabara. My favorite stop on the tour was Super Potato, a vintage video game shop.

Me playing Super Mario Bros. on the original NES

Christina playing on a giant Gameboy

The place was a museum of video-game history. Old consoles I haven't thought about in years, like the Sega Genesis and Turbo Grafx-16, were on sale. John had once told me that the Japanese were the perfect collectors, paying for quality products and being meticulous about maintenance. Every console still had its original packaging in mint condition, like it was straight from the factory.

Japanese Super NES consoles

Super Mario Bros. plush dolls

After the tour, I got interviewed by the creators of Tokyo Realtime. They wanted to collect testimonials about their product.

Me getting interviewed about the audio tour

Encouraged after seeing Nakano Broadway and Akihabara, I wanted to indulge my inner nerd. Tokyo was the world's best place to be a geek. No matter what you were into, Tokyo had it: comics, video games, electronics, etc. What did I want to check out?

Then I remembered something Aaron said. He's a Canadian friend who had mentioned that Tokyo was a mecca for vinyl records. I did some research, and came up with Udagawa-cho. It's an area of independent record shops in Shibuya, scattered around the Tokyu Hands department store. I looked up the best shop for hip-hop music and went in for a visit.

Manhattan Records, street view

Customers checking out hip-hop records. The guy on the left is wearing a Run DMC hat.

A customer at a listening station

A lot of dance clubs in Asia play the same Top 40 music. So I was excited to hear new songs and mixes thundering from the turntables. There were DJs on both floors spinning records. The music was so thrilling that I wished the place was a club, so I could bust out some moves.

In-store DJ pumping out the jams

Original record of "Fight the Power" by Public Enemy

The Wall of Fame: famous rappers who've visited Manhattan Records

My other passion is movies, so I went to La Jetée, a bar dedicated to world cinema. It was in the Golden Gai bar district, an area I wanted to check out anyway.

The Golden Gai

Frenchman at La Jetée

Me chilling out at La Jetée

The unspoken contract I have with my readers is that I won't say something is cool when it's not. I had high expectations, because this bar is mentioned in all the guidebooks and gets rave reviews.

I'll be honest and say that La Jetée was a letdown. Way too small and expensive for what they offer. The average independent cafe in Taipei is much nicer, bigger, and cheaper for the same funky bohemian atmosphere. The lanes of Shida and Gongguan are filled with better places.

On a positive note, I did get to talk to some nice French people. When you're crammed that closely together, you'll meet people whether you want to or not!

I had better luck with clubbing. John had referred me to Honza, a Czech grad student who partied a lot. Honza invited me to join him and his friends for a night out at Club Velours.

"What do you study?" I asked Honza.

He screwed up his face to ponder the question. "It's hard to explain," he said. "I was an engineering student. But now I'm studying green energy, because I mean, I'm trying to save this world!"

Multiple DJs spun records that night. My favorite act was Nobis, an electro band. Their heavy use of a synth keyboard sent me back to the 1980's.

Nobis rocking out at Club Velours

The last DJ played a great set. Sorry guys, I've tried to match who I saw with the DJ schedule, but I can't find her. She looked like a Western girl. Anyway, she put on some awesome breakbeat and drum & bass songs. Not quite hip-hop, but close enough to get me dancing in full effect.

Japanese guys started dancing off against me, and Japanese girls would try to copy my moves. No one really spoke English, but that was okay. Dance needs no translation.

Me and Kimie at Club Velours

Inside Information

Getting into the city

There are several trains that serve Narita Airport. The Narita Express goes to the most convenient stations and is the most expensive. The cheapest option is the Keisei Limited Express (NOT the Keisei Skyliner), which costs 1,000 yen (US$11) and takes 75 minutes to get to Ueno station, the last stop.

For the easiest transfer to the Tokyo metro, take the Keisei Limited Express and get off at Aoto station. Simply walk across to the other side of the platform at Aoto and catch a train on the Asakusa line.

If you're only carrying a backpack, taking the Keisei Limited Express and Tokyo Metro is the cheapest way to get downtown.

If you have more money and luggage, you might want to take a limousine bus. Cost is 3,000 yen (US$33) and the time varies depending on the destination and traffic. They serve many of the major hotels. Or you can do a combination of limousine bus with a short taxi ride to a cheaper hotel.

Getting around

Tokyo has an extensive (actually too extensive) network of private and government-run railway lines. You'll never need to take a bus. Taxis are best avoided unless you can share the cost with other people.

This is important to know if you're staying out late: the metro trains are usually start departing at 5:30 a.m. What I'd do is stay in a club until it closed around 5:00 a.m. Some metro entrances open earlier than others. If an entrance is still closed early in the morning, follow the rest of the after-hours crowd to another metro entrance.

Can't stay up till sunrise? Don't take a taxi by yourself, it's cheaper to stay in a capsule hotel or 24-hour Internet cafe. Internet cafes offer "all night" deals where you can get a semi-private cubicle, reclining chair, and sometimes shower facilities.

If you'll be staying in Tokyo for more than a few days, it's worthwhile to get a Suica card or Pasmo card. They're smart cards that you can top up with cash. Using a card will save you time from having to use the fare-adjustment machines.

In any case, get a metro map as soon as you can. I used my metro map more often than my street map!

Where to stay

Most hostels are clustered around Asakusa, the traditional area in the northeast of the city. Beware of any cheap places in popular areas like Shibuya, Shinjuku, or Roppongi. They're likely to be bad or not as well-located as they advertise.

I've stayed at K's House Tokyo and K's House Tokyo Oasis. K's House is clean, has good facilities, and is only a 10-second walk to Kuramae metro station exit A-6 on the Oedo line. (Note: There is another Kuramae station for the Asakusa line). Big common area, very social. The only downside is that it's very much a Western-style backpacker hostel, with little Japanese character.

The other branch, Tokyo Oasis, feels like a boutique Japanese-style inn. Tastefully decorated, lots of atmosphere, and quieter than K's House. The main disadvantage is that it's a 10-15 minute walk to Tawaramachi metro station on the Ginza line. Most of the lively areas are in western Tokyo, so I used the metro a lot. Really felt inconvenienced by the location. Guests don't hang out in the common area much, so it's harder to meet people other than your roommates.

K's House has branches throughout Japan, and I'd recommend them. Book in advance, as they're highly rated on hostel websites and popular with backpackers. Actually, this is good advice for Japan in general, since the cheap places fill up fast.

If you're traveling with one other person, you might want to split the cost of a room in a "business hotel" (minshuku in Japanese). It's a different concept from the West, where business hotels are for CEOs and conventions. Japanese business hotels are no-frills operations for local "salarymen." Two of the biggest chains are Toyoko Inn and Superhotel.

The Hotel Asia Center of Japan is a good choice. This business hotel is near Aoyama Itchome metro station. It's only 1 stop from Roppongi, 2 stops to Shibuya, and 3 stops to Shinjuku. The rooms are simple and the single rooms are like office cubicles. I stayed there in 2005 and thought it was good. The central location was great.

If cost is your main concern and you don't care so much about location, look around Minami-senju. It's an area in the northeast of Tokyo. Minami-senju has the cheapest hotels in the city. Private single rooms (no bathroom) start at around 3,000 yen (US$33). That's the same price as a dorm bed in most hostels! But be prepared for Japanese-style facilities, as in sleeping on the floor and group showering rooms. Here's a list: Economy hotels in Tokyo.

The Kangaroo Hotel seems to be the nicest one in that area. I've never stayed there, but read good reviews of it on TripAdvisor.com. The rooms seem like walk-in closets, but look clean and stylish in the photos.

However, most Japanese consider Minami-senju to be a ghetto because there are a lot of homeless people there. Still eminently safe compared to major U.S. cities. It's Japan, after all.

To find reasonably priced business hotels, traditional inns, etc. in other parts of Japan, visit the Welcome Inn Reservation Center.

Cell phones

Japan and South Korea are two of the only countries where you can't just pop a SIM card into your cell phone. Both use CDMA networks. Everywhere else, you can slide a SIM card into an unlocked quadband GSM phone and start making local calls.

Buying a phone isn't really viable either, for a short trip. You usually have to go through some bureaucracy and register as a foreigner before you're allowed to buy a phone.

The best solution is to rent a phone. Most major airports will have some kiosks representing the major Japanese telecom companies.

I got mine through Rentafone Japan. It was started up by an American expat who couldn't find a place to rent phones for friends and family who visited him. The company offers a really convenient service where they'll mail your phone to your hotel or hostel before you arrive. So when you check in, the clerk will hand you the package with your cell phone. Easy instructions. Make sure to dial their special prefix number to get discounts on calls and text messages. When you're ready to leave, just mail back the phone in the self-addressed stamped envelope. I sent mine from Narita airport just before I got on my plane.

If you visit Japan a lot, it might be better to buy a secondhand phone from a foreigner who is moving out of Japan soon. Look through the classifieds sections of English-language publications like Japan Today and Metropolis Magazine. You can get good deals if the person is desperate to sell their phone fast.

Another thing different about Japanese phones is how they handle text messages. For some carriers, you can send a message to a cell number. But many Japanese phones have a separate "mobile e-mail address." You dial a phone number to call a friend; you send text messages to their mobile e-mail address. So when you make a new Japanese friend, make sure to get both their phone number AND mobile e-mail. It's cheaper to send e-mails than make calls. Most Japanese know this and will write these down if they give you their contact information.

What to buy

If you're going to somewhere like Thailand later, save your shopping for when you get there. There are not too many bargains in Japan.

One exception is electronics, especially secondhand goods. Japanese always need to have the latest gear. As soon as a new version comes out or if something gets scratched, they rush out and buy. Japanese also take good care of their possessions, so even pre-owned products are in good condition.

Akihabara is the place to go. I was seriously tempted to get a used SLR camera. Remember to check if you can get an international warranty and whether the electric plugs are compatible with the outlets in your home country. If you're buying something expensive, you might qualify for a tax refund at the airport before you leave Japan. Ask the clerk for the right paperwork before you buy.

To get an idea of Japanese electronics prices, look at this website: Kakaku.com. It's in Japanese and prices are in yen. You can navigate fairly easily using the picture icons. A computer for the computer section, a camera for the camera section, etc. Use the Universal Currency Converter to get home currency values.

For traditional Japanese crafts, go to flea markets. Temple markets offer excellent deals, but they are typically only held once a month on a weekend. Check your guidebook for which temples will hold markets during your trip.

The Arai Yakushi Temple Market is one of the more local hotspots, which fewer foreigners know about.

Oedo Antique Market is one of the biggest official markets. Another major one is the Heiwajima Antique Fair, which is held five times a year.

For more touristy souvenirs, go to the shops around Sensoji Temple and in the Oriental Bazaar. The Japan National Tourism Organization has a handy master list of Tokyo flea markets.

Where to party

The scene in Tokyo changes too fast for me to recommend specific bars and clubs. I'm better off discussing certain areas of the city.

Roppongi is the main spot for foreigners. More English-friendly, but can also feel more trashy.

Shibuya and Shinjuku are more Japanese and high-class (except for Kabukicho, which is more like the seedier parts of Bangkok).

Golden Gai is a really local area packed with interesting bars. But they can sometimes be unfriendly to new customers. Space is tight, so the bar owners rely heavily on their regular customers.

Yurakucho is a good spot for working-class izakaya bars and yakitori barbeque restaurants.

The best source of information is Metropolis, an English-language magazine aimed at expats. You can find it in most expat bars and bookstores.

The Metropolis Visitor's Guide is excellent. It's better than most guidebooks for shopping, dining, and nightlife leads. This was where I found out about the Udagawa-cho record shop district.

Taiwan 2.0: The Man Is Back

2009-11-15T23:15:00.019+08:00

In the pool near Taipei 101.
Miriam (Germany)
Photo: Nathalie (Scotland)

Hip-hop yacht party near Guandu.
Alice (France/Australia), Tiffany (Taiwan), and Kim (Taiwan)
Photo: Kim (Taiwan)

Reporting to the dance floor at Luxy.
Juli (USA), Jill (Holland), Jamie (USA)
Photo: Jill (Holland)

Was there ever any doubt I'd return to Taiwan? When I left, I was sure it was forever. My job contract was over, my visa had expired, and I had moved out of my apartment.

In Kuala Lumpur, I met a cool Taiwanese girl. When I talked about all the good times I had in Taipei, she declared, "You must go back to Taiwan!" I laughed it off at the time. All my links were severed, that chapter had ended.

Then when I got to Indonesia, after I saw the upteenth temple, I had a change of heart. I couldn't take another famous site. All I wanted was to be in a place I knew.

Taiwan time.

When I first moved to Taiwan in 2006, I stayed at World Scholar House hostel. Ended up living there for 5 months, because I met so many awesome people and had so much fun. Would I get that lucky again? Kerstin, a German girl, had warned me: "You can't go back! The second time is never as good as the first time around."

I trudged ahead anyway. I settled on Chocolate Box Backpackers, because it was close to Shida, the main university for foreigners to study Chinese. The area was full of bars, clubs and restaurants. Promising conditions.

Miriam, me, and Kai at a BBQ.
Photo: Nathalie (Scotland)

I had more fun than I ever imagined! Loads of great people passed through the hostel. As the resident Taipei expert, I gave my new friends instant entrée into the hottest spots in the city: the bar with the secret entrance, the clubs with all-you-can-drink deals, etc.

My arrival coincided with 3 very cool guys staying at Chocolate Box: Sean (Ireland), Kai (Germany) and Aaron (Canada). We became good friends and a regular nightlife crew. I called us the "Fab Four."

Sean (Ireland) and Kai (Germany) at Chocolate Box.

Me and Aaron (Canada) at Chocolate Box.

Then of course, there were the girls. Throughout the Chinese world (mainland China, Taiwan, Singapore and Hong Kong), Taiwanese girls are known for being hot. Throw into the mix all the European, British, Canadian, and American girls here to travel and study Chinese. A perfect recipe for fun times.

Claire (England) and Edwina (England) at a night market in Taichung City.

Jasmine (USA), Juli (USA), Manuela (Switzerland), Jennifer (Swtizerland), and Mary (Switzerland). At Chocolate Box Backpackers.

The magic formula: Budget travel = cool young people. I made so many friends and saved a bunch of money by staying in a hostel. No way could I have afforded to stay in a hotel for a whole summer, like I did at Chocolate Box.

Me and Kai doing the "Marcus dance" at Club W (formerly Club Wax).

Photo: Catherine (Canada)

It was almost too much of a good thing. By having so much fun, I fell back in love with Taiwan again. I wanted to stay. That meant trying to find another job. Even if I did land a job in time, there was still the visa problem. The last time I applied for a Taiwan work permit, I got sucked into a nightmarish battle against 4 governments (see blog post). I didn't know if I could go through that hell again.

I'd apply for jobs by day and go partying at night. So while I enjoyed myself, there was a hum of urgency in the back of my mind. If I didn't get a job and a visa, it was game over. I felt like I was just one missed opportunity from leaving Taiwan forever.

I hit rock-bottom when this British-Malaysian Chinese guy laughed at me and said, "Hey, you're that guy from Hawaii who's looking for a job and can't find one! Ha ha, you fail!" Later, I found out he was in his 6th year of trying to get a bachelor's degree and he'd changed universities 4 times.

Instead of worrying, I tried to be positive and make my impending departure a good reason to really live every moment. Go to that party, have that long conversation with that interesting person, dance with that girl I was attracted to.

(There was this one girl . . . saying goodbye to her was one of the hardest things I've had to do. She was just the right combination of good girl and bad girl. She did promise to take me out if I visited her. I guess my next trip will have to be to _____.)

Both old and new friends were supportive of my job-search efforts. Although in a way that put more pressure on me. People would say, "I love Taiwan! I'm coming back, and you'd better be here!" Colin, one of my closest friends, even confessed, "Don't talk about leaving! You're a big part of my Taiwan experience. Most of the great times I've had in Taiwan have been with you, Marcus!"

Me and Colin at Kiwi Gourmet Burger (KGB).
Photo: Colin (Canada)

And I'd be like, "Uh, I don't know if I'll get a job in time." My first job search in Taiwan was a race against the clock (see blog post). Before I returned to Taipei this time, I got a 60-day Taiwan visa in Hong Kong.

Against all odds, I got offered a job in Taipei on Day 57, one day before I went to Hong Kong on a visa run. History had repeated itself. Sean said it best: "You've got me on the edge of my seat! I can't imagine what you must be going through!" Being unemployed in America sucks. But not being able to find a job when you're abroad means getting kicked out of the country.

Even more luckily, my new company was much more efficient at getting a work permit. It was a smooth process to getting my Taiwan Alien Resident Certificate (ARC).

Being on the other side of the immigration process is humbling for an American like me. My parents are immigrants to the United States, so I'd gotten an earful of stories growing up. But I hadn't had the direct experience of sweating over my visa status yet. Now that I've been through the visa process in China and Taiwan, I have more respect and sympathy for those folks.

That one small piece of ID, whether it's a passport, a visa, or whatever, can make all the difference in your life. My ARC isn't just a embossed plastic card; it's the right to have another great year in Taiwan.

Being in Asia is like a second adolescence for me. I was studious and into books throughout high school and university, so I didn't do as much partying as I could have. Although I'm sure my friends will remember copious counter-examples. Please e-mail them to me. (Does anyone remember when I performed at the New Student Talent Show in my first week of college? Just call me MC Spider-Man!)

Once I got my university degree and arrived in Asia, I became a different person. I stopped being so serious about myself and got serious about having fun!

Me, Kris (USA), Sean, and Kai outside Roxy Jr.

Where to party

Taipei has great nightlife. Lots of international students studying Chinese and English teachers from the West create a real party atmosphere. Young Taiwanese love to party up as well.

The big drawback is that nearly every club plays the same Top 40 hip-hop songs. Good house and electro clubs are harder to find.

Student-style funky hangouts, like Roxy 99 and Jr. Cafe, can be found near Shida (National Taiwan Normal University, where most foreign students study Chinese). The more stylish lounge bars and trendy clubs are around Warner Village (Neo19 building) and MRT Zhongxiao Dunhua station.

Luxy is a good showpiece club that I like to take visitors to. It's at MRT Zhongxiao Dunhua Exit 2. Look for the Starbucks, and walk into the building, Ton-lin Plaza. The best night to go is Wednesday for Ladies' Night.

Entry to Luxy is FREE before 11:00 P.M. on Wednesday, Friday and Saturday (even for guys!). Luxy has professional dancers, bartenders who put on a fire show, and showgirls offering free shots. You won't find a better deal anywhere in Asia.

The other hot clubs of the moment are Spark, in the basement of Taipei 101 and Primo, which is close to MRT Yongchun Exit 1, in the ATT Building.

Taipei also has All-You-Can-Drink clubs, which I've never seen anywhere else. You pay NT$500-600 for a voucher, get a cup with your first drink, and use that cup the whole night to get free drinks. It's not just a special promotion, this is for every night.

Two are close to Shida: 9% Night Person is on Jinshan Road off of Shida Road. Club W (formerly known as Club Wax) is near MRT Guting Exit 4, next to Starbucks.

There's also a live-music scene. Legacy is the biggest venue. The Wall has been a long-time veteran for fans. Riverside Music Cafe and Underworld also host local rock bands. VU Live House tries valiantly to organize parties with all kinds of non-mainstream music.

For English-language info on gigs and music events, check out Gig Guide TW. Clubbing info and parties can be found on Waakao.com.

Yogyakarta: A Jolt of Java

2009-08-27T21:47:00.022+08:00

At the top of Borobodur, the world's biggest Buddhist stupa.

Prambanan Temples (Hindu).

"Each island in Indonesia is like a different country."
--Keetie, a Dutch traveler in Myanmar (Burma)

The hard part about traveling in Indonesia is figuring out where to go. There are over 17,000 islands and endless variety. Many cultures on these islands evolved in isolation from each other, with their own distinct languages, customs, and religions. Its strategic location as a trading post also brought in a host of influences from its major merchant partners, such as China, India, and countries in the Middle East.

Indonesia is the epitome of diversity. At the western end you have Aceh, which is governed by shariah law, strict fundamentalist Muslim principles. Down east there's Bali, one of Southeast Asia's premier cultural and partying hot spots.

I decided on seeing temples, and focused on going to Yogyakarta (pronounced "Jogjakarta" or "Jogja" for short). It had the final 2 spots on my temple hit list: Borobodur and Prambanan. For some reason, I felt compelled to see all the great temples of Southeast Asia. Angkor Wat alone wasn't enough.

My first impression of Indonesia was that it was very poor, like the Philippines, but the people were very cheerful and gregarious, also like the Philippines. The main difference is the Philippines is Catholic, due to its history as a Spanish colony.

After seeing so many countries in Southeast Asia, I can see which ones are more similar to each other. Thailand, Laos, and Cambodia have much in common. Vietnam is closer to mainland China in spirit. Malaysia and Singapore share a lot of heritage. Myanmar (Burma) feels utterly unique.

Downtown Yogyakarta, the nicest part of town.

Yogyakarta reminded me of Myanmar in one sense: it's a tourist destination without tourists. There are guesthouses, restaurants, and tour companies, but not a lot of travelers. Maybe it's because I went in the low season, but I can't imagine Borobudur being as big a draw as Angkor Wat is.

I was lucky to befriend two cool young Canadians, Peter and Jacqueline. They had traveled all over Indonesia, and were happy to share their tips. I imagine this was how information was shared on the road, before the Internet. You had to meet people coming back from where you're going, and ask them what's up.

Peter and Jacqueline at Superman Restaurant.

Now that I've done the full circuit of temples in Southeast Asia, I can comment on them better.

Bagan in Myanmar is easily my favorite, as it's the most isolated and the main temples are quite different from each other. The barren landscape made it feel like a lost city. It was the first major temple complex I'd seen in Southeast Asia, so it had a greater impact. I'd also risked my health (and my heart!) to get there.

Sukhothai in Thailand was good, and my photos came out really well. It seemed the most professionally-managed too. Almost Western-quality set-up of lights, English signs explaining each temple, etc. The lush greenery and fewer number of visitors made it feel like an oasis.

Angkor Wat was my least favorite. Rampant tourism and the temples weren't as well-preserved as the other temple complexes I'd seen. One thing I did like was that the nearby town, Siem Reap, was more fun and lively than the gateway towns for the other temple complexes. Pub Street is my favorite backpacker ghetto in Southeast Asia.

Prambanan and Borobudur to me almost felt like two halves of one giant temple. Borobudur was all foundation, and Prambanan was all spires. It almost seemed like Borobodur was the bottom half of Angkor Wat and Prambanan was the top half.

To be a little nitpicky, I don't think of Borobudur as having the world's biggest stupa. The only stupa shape is at the very top. While large, it's nowhere near as big as the Shwedagon Paya in Yangon (see photo at link). Compare the top photo in that post to the photo at the head of this post. The difference is clear.

I think my photos describe Bobobudur and Prambanan better then I can with words. The cool thing was that there were lots of local Indonesians around the temples, but few foreigners.

Prambanan photos:

Borobudur photos:

Inside Information

Getting from the airport into town

You can take a TransJogja bus from the airport to the Jalan Malioboro, the main street in the town. The bus station is a bit tricky to find, though. As soon as you get out of the airport. Go left, you'll pass airline counters on your left. At the Kentucky Fried Chicken, turn right and go into a building.

Walk through an underground passageway until you resurface into a parking lot. Look for the glass and wood TransJogja booth. The trip costs IDR3,000 takes and about 20-30 minutes. Get off at Jalan Malioboro. Before you get on, ask the attendant in the booth to tell the driver where you want to get off.

Where to stay

Merbabu Hotel. It's on a small lane off of Jalan Sosrowjiwan ("Soswro" for short), the main budget travelers' street in Yogyakarta. Get your taxi to drop you off on that road, just next to the big yellow sign for "Superman Restaurant." Walk into that alley, and eventually you'll see the hotel on your left. I spent IDR95,000 (US$9.50) a night for a big, airy room. Only cold shower, though. Free breakfast included, and it's a good breakfast. Your choice of tasty dishes like banana chocolate pancakes, fried-egg sandwiches, etc. No Internet, but there are Internet cafes around.

I love the location of the place. There are two secondhand bookstores right outside. Lots of backpacker-oriented restaurants around, too. Although I didn't like the food at Superman Restaurant.

There is a more upscale travelers' row on Jalan Prawirotaman. The hotels, restaurants, and even the main Internet cafe all seemed a lot nicer than the places on Jalan Sosrojiwan. A bit more expensive, but seems worth it. The one drawback is that it's a bit further from things.

Getting around
The best way to get around is using TransJogja bus, a modern bus rapid transit system. The buses are small, clean, air-conditioned, and much more comfortable than the full-sized public buses. The website is bare bones, but here is a link to a list of bus routes.

The closest station to Jalan Soswrojiwan is on Jalan Malioboro, across from the Yogyakarta Library Center. Usually there will be at least one attendant who can speak enough English to help you. Just tell them were you want go. Have them write down for you what buses you may have to transfer to, and the name of the bus stop you should get off at.

What to see
The main attractions in Yogyakarta are the temple complexes of Borobodur and Yogyakarta. There are tons of tour companies on Jalan Soswrojiwan who can arrange a trip to the temples for you. They're not guided tours, they only provide door-to-door transportation to the temples.

I was there during low season, so the tour companies had trouble finding enough people to launch a tour. I ended up taking crowded, dirty public buses to the temples. A tour costs about IDR50,000 (US$5.00), while public buses cost a fraction of that, with an equivalent fraction of comfort.

I found out later that I could have taken TransJogja buses to the the temples. I'd recommend this.

--To Borobudur, take Bus 2A on Malioboro and transfer to Bus 2B later, the attendant will tell you how to do this. If I remember right, you get dropped off at Jombor bus terminal and still need to take a public bus for the final leg of the journey.

When your public bus arrives in the parking lot, touts will jump aboard and try to get you to hire them to take you around in a horse carriage. They'll make up excuses that it's too far and too hot to walk to Borobudur. Ignore them. The bus stop is only about a 10-minute walk to Borobudur. They'll also try to take you to Candi Mendut and other lesser temples. In my opinion, they're not worth seeing and can't compare to Borobudur.

--To Prambanan, take Bus 1A on Malioboro. The bus stop is about a 20-30 minute walk to Prambanan. You may want to hire a motorbike driver to give you a ride there, that's what I did.

Other things to do
Via Via Cafe on Jalan Prawirotaman is a great restaurant, and also offers a number of alternative tours. From what I read in the brochure, they sounded a lot more interesting than the standard tours all the other companies offered. One of their most popular tours is to travel overland from Yogyakarta all the way to Bali island. That's "Tour 7: Overland East Java." This trip includes a journey to Mount Bromo, an active volcano.

A good source of travel information is YogYes.com, which was told to me by the excellent Peter and Jacqueline.

Entertainment
Cinema XXI is part of the Cinema 21 chain. You can get a taxi there in 15 minutes. It's a plush, luxurious cinema, and tickets only cost IDR15,000 (US$1.50)! The downside is that movies are really old, from like 1-2 years ago. When I was there, I saw a poster saying "Coming Soon! Body of Lies," the Leonardo DiCaprio spy thriller. Good movie, by the way. Peter and I went there to see Crank 2: High Voltage.

Penang: If Hawaii was Rebooted

2009-08-15T19:51:00.015+08:00

Penang City Hall

Chinese Goddess of Mercy (Guanyin) Temple

Kapital Keling Mosque

Penang is the bizarro version of Hawaii. Both places are a blend of Western and Asian influences, except those influences are different. Hawaii is American and Japanese, while Penang is British and Chinese.

It was like being in a parallel universe. I'd wonder, "Could Hawaii have ended up like Penang?" Maybe if the British had kept control of the U.S., and if more Chinese had settled in Hawaii rather than Japanese.

After staying in the small town of Tanah Rata in the Cameron Highlands, I was happy to be in a modern city like Georgetown. It's the main city in Penang. While Melaka felt like a fairy-tale town, Georgetown had more buzz, it was a place to take care of business.

I've lost the American habit of trying to see as many sights in the shortest time. I can easily lounge around for a whole week if I feel comfortable in a place. The Americans I meet on the road are usually in the biggest rush. When I run into English, Canadian or Australian backpackers, often they've been traveling for months or years at a time.

When my hostel or guesthouse has a nice common area and cool people around, it's easy to be a sloth. I'll happily spend hours chatting with travelers. On the other hand, annoying people drive me away. For a more detailed rant, see my past blog post, Ugly Foreigners.

Back to people I want to spend time with. Sometimes I'll wait until there is a critical mass of other backpackers who are going to see sights at the same time. Then I'll join them.

I did this with Penang Hill. It's popular to take the funicular railway to the top. Similar to the Peak tram in Hong Kong that goes up Victoria Peak, it's a train that designed to go uphill.

Arif, Susan, Chris and I on the funicular train

Penang Hill is pretty and green at the top. But there isn't much to see besides a small, colorful Indian temple. The main reason to go is to see the view of Georgetown. Riding the train and chatting with fellow backpackers was the real highlight.

Most of my friendships were made at Hutton Lodge, the hostel I stayed in. We were all relieved to be somewhere modern. Malaysia is relatively under-touristed compared to nearby Thailand. Similar to its geography, Malaysia's state of development lies somewhere between Thailand and Singapore.

We had a nicely eclectic group: Susan, a Canadian backpacker and Arif, a Pakistani-American guy who worked as a financial analyst. There was also a Scottish-Estonian couple, Kris and Kadri, who were riding a motorcycle and traveling by overland to Australia. They had passed through Iran, Pakistan, and India on the way. Their stories were amazing.

Chris (Scotland), Susan (Canada), Kadri (Estonia) and Arif (United States), waiting for the funicular train.

What I liked most about the couple was how refreshingly friendly and unpretentious they were. Other travelers who get around overland the hard way can be disgustingly smug and treat people who take planes like wimps. They didn't endlessly brag about traveling to danger zones like Iran and Pakistan. And I thought I was brave for going to Burma!

The next stop was Kek Lok Si Temple. My favorite temples are the ones that are more like complexes, with lots of buildings and rooms to explore. Kek Lok Si was like this.

A groundskeeper watering the plants.

Arif meditating at a pagoda in the center of a pool.

Me posing Buddha-style.

It did have one annoying trait in common with attractions in Beijing: separate fees for every zone you walk into. The biggest rip-off was when we paid an extra fee to go to the top level, where the guidebook said there was a massive statue of Mazu. She's the Chinese patron saint of sailors and fishermen.

The statue was surrounded by metal scaffolding! We were so pissed off. I hate it when that happens! Thankfully, the front of the statue was exposed, so we could still take pictures.

Mazu statue

What was more fun, we found a small sculpture garden with statues based on animals in the Chinese zodiac. We had a blast while posing for photos with the animals that matched our horoscopes.

Susan with the Rat

Arif with the Ox

Me with the Pig. Susan thought the pig looked stressed-out and constipated.

For dinner one night, we headed to a row of Chinese shophouses near our hostel.

We ended up eating "steamboat," similar to hotpot I've eaten in China and Taiwan. The owner, a jovial Malaysian Chinese man, eagerly gave us a tour of his restaurant.

The owner explaining the dishes to Susan.

You throw vegetables and meats into a boiling pot, then eat. The main difference was that you could also fry your food around the bottom rim of the pot. But you pick and choose various condiments to make your own personal dipping sauce, just like hotpot.

Susan and Kadri dining on steamboat.

The magic ingredient is sha cha sauce. It's the ultimate savory sauce, made up of soybean oil, garlic, chillis, brill fish, and shrimp. You can dip anything in it, and it'll taste mind-blowingly good.

When my Canadian friend Brynn brought her mother to a hotpot restaurant in Taipei, her mother fell in love with the hotpot concept. She vowed to hit a Taiwanese supermarket and buy big jars of sha cha sauce to take back to Canada.

Nowadays, I take as many photos of food as I do of big sights. I'm turning into an Asian tourist!

The author, enjoying some great food.

Inside Information

Getting there

Butterworth, a boring industrial town on the Malaysia mainland, serves as the main transport hub to the island of Penang. All buses stop there and the railway ends there.

From Butterworth, you can take the ferry across to Georgetown, the main city on Penang. The ferry jetty is only a short walk from the Butterworth train and bus stations. The ferry is the best and most scenic way to go to Penang.

Once you arrive at the Weld Quay ferry jetty in Georgetown, ask around until you find the free shuttle bus. It goes from the ferry jetty to some of the popular spots in the city, including Komtar Complex (a shopping and transport hub) and Lebuh Chulia (main backpacker road).

Buses also go to Penang via a causeway bridge, but they drop you off at Sungei Nibong bus station, an unremarkable 15-minute drive from Georgetown. Stick with the ferry from Butterworth.

Where to stay

Hutton Lodge is the best hostel I've seen in Southeast Asia. Designed like a boutique hotel, it offers the charm of a colonial-style building, and the comfort of a modern hotel, at reasonable prices. When I first walked in, I was worried that the hostel was gone and it had been taken over by a luxury hotel. Hutton Lodge is that nice.

Banana New Guesthouse is a well-known place, but it's often fully booked. Very popular with Western expats doing a visa run from Thailand. I get the feeling that they make their real money from their visa services, and the cheap rooms are just a way to bring in customers.

Otherwise, it's best to walk around Lebuh Chulia and check out places in person. There are plenty of budget options.

Where to eat

Red Garden is the best hawker centre in Georgetown, with a huge selection of food. At night, there are cheesy singing and dancing performances on the main stage. Similar to the singing you see at Asian banquets and weddings.

Getting out

Penang is a good launch point to go to Thailand or Indonesia. Many guesthouses (like Banana New Guesthouse) offer visa services for both countries. It's probably better to just pay for a cab and go to the consulates yourself. I almost got a 60-day Indonesia visa through a visa agent. But I thought the guy was way too high-pressure, so I canceled it.

Most bus companies have ticket offices at Komtar Complex in the city center, but you may have to board the buses at Sungei Nibong bus station outside of town. Konsortium Express Bus offers a shuttle service that will take you from Komtar to the bus station, for a small fee. I imagine other bus companies do this too. Konsortium has nice buses, I recommend it.

Thailand:
Most Thai-bound buses go through Hat Yai, a border town on the Thai side. RM22, takes about 4 hours.

I've heard from travelers that taking buses to Thailand involves changing buses and long waiting times in between.

It might be more convenient to catch a train at Butterworth. Here's the link to the Thai Railway timetables. The Southern Line goes from Malaysia to Thailand.

Notable stops:

Surat Thani -- the main gateway to the East Coast Thai islands, like Ko Samui, Ko Tao (good place to study diving) and Ko Pha Ngan (the famous full-moon party). 14 hours.

From Surat Thani, you can also take a bus (3-4 hours) to Krabi, the gateway to West Coast Thai islands like Phuket and Ko Phi Phi.

Bangkok -- Thailand's capital. 23 Hours.

Visas: At the time of writing, you only got 14-day visas on arrival if you get there by overland. If you're going to spend more time in Thailand, get a visa in Penang beforehand. You get 30 days if you fly in.

Indonesia:

Ferries from Penang go to Medan in Java. RM150, 5 hours. Boats depart from Georgetown's Swettenham jetty and land in Belawan. The rest of the journey to Medan is done by bus (cost should be included with boat ticket).

Visas: You can get a 30-day Indonesian visa on arrival. If you're planning on traveling around the country for longer, get the 60-day visa in Penang before you arrive.

Cameron Highlands: A Natural High

2009-07-05T18:34:00.006+08:00

Backpackers wandering around the BOH tea plantation.

Confession: I hate trekking. It's tiring, sweaty, and dirty. Sometimes it can't be avoided, because in certain places, trekking is really the only thing to do. And the Cameron Highlands is one of the premier trekking destinations in Malaysia.

It was in Myanmar that I first discovered the concept of "hill stations"--where British and European expats built mountain resort towns to escape the heat of their Southeast Asian colonies. The Cameron Highlands was set up in this fashion, as a cool retreat from Malaysia's fierce humidity.

The lower temperatures were a welcome natural alternative to Asia's pervasive air-conditioning. The constant blasts of A/C everywhere sometimes left me sneezing and with a runny nose.

On my first day, I signed up for a tour with Kang Travel and Tours. I figured it would be an easy way to see all the sights in one go.

Our guide, Spencer, welcomed us to the jungle by giving us grass-weaved crowns.

A crowning ceremony

Once anointed, we were ready to tackle the trek. It wasn't that bad, compared to treks I've done in China and Vietnam. The annoying thing was that it had rained the day before, so the whole trail was muddy and wet.

Crossing rivers are always treacherous. While waterfalls and rivers look nice at a distance, they're always a pain in the ass to get across. The wet rocks make it easy to slip and take an unscheduled dunk.

Crossing the river

The longer a trek is, the more I think to myself, "The sights better be worth the walk, or I'll be really pissed off."

Me firing a blow dart at an aboriginal village.

One of the main attractions is the Rafflesia, which is billed as "The World's Biggest Flower." They have very short lifespans, so tour guides are always forced to hunt for fresh ones to show tourists.

A Frenchman almost died in the taking of this photo

This Rafflesia was on the side of a steep hill, which made viewing difficult. I asked a French backpacker to take this picture. He got so involved in framing the perfect shot he almost fell off the hill! I was like, "Dude, it's okay if it's not perfect. Just don't kill yourself in the process."

My favorite part of the tour was viewing the BOH tea plantation. The gleaming green mountains were magnificent, and you could view them comfortably from a hillside tea-shop veranda.

Me with a cup of tea

Tea is always better with good company, and I was lucky to meet Lianne and Andrew on the bus from Kuala Lumpur to the Cameron Highlands. They were a cool couple from England doing an around-the-world trip after graduating from university. A nice way to cap off an education, by doing a world tour.

Me, Lianne and Andrew

Inside Information

Getting there

Bus: A few bus companies depart from Kuala Lumpur's Puduraya bus station. The trip takes about 4 to 5 hours. Kurnia Bistari is one bus company that serves Tanah Rata, the main town in the Cameron Highlands. They depart every 3 to 4 hours, cost RM23.

The KB buses were adequate, but not as nice as other buses I've ridden on, like Transnational. The final 30 minutes of the ride consist of non-stop hairpin turns up the mountainside.

Since buses go to Tanah Rata so infrequently, it's best to plan ahead. Check the schedule at the bus station the day before you intend to go, to make sure you get a seat.

Where to stay

I stayed at KRS Pines, a nice guesthouse. Very clean, but a little too quiet, like being in a hospital. The management own a more budget-oriented guesthouse, Twin Pines, that's supposed to be more social.

Daniel's Lodge has lots of backpackers, but it's gotten negative reviews online. Father's Guesthouse is supposed to be good, but I've heard they're really strict about rules like quiet hours.

What to do

The Cameron Highlands has hiking trails, strawberry farms, tea plantations, and other sights. You can see them independently, or as part of a tour. I went through Kang Travel and Tours (attached to Daniel's Lodge) and had a good time.

Melaka: The Expat's Dream Destination

2009-06-13T12:17:00.004+08:00

Melaka, canal-side

Locals walking in the town square

The secret hope of many travelers: to fall in love with an exotic land (or exotic person), and stay there to open up a business. Jim Thomspon is the best example of this, and his traditional Thai house is a landmark in Bangkok. He was a former American secret agent who started a successful silk company in Thailand, built a magnificent antique-style house, collected Southeast Asian art, then mysteriously disappeared in Malaysia.

Melaka was an easy place to like, because it's a "fusion city," a blend of East and West. Along with Hong Kong, Melaka epitomized globalization before it became a buzzword. Even today, the Strait of Malacca (another spelling for Melaka) is one of the busiest shipping lanes in the world, connecting the manufacturing powerhouses of Asia with its bargain-hungry customers in the West and its oil suppliers in the Middle East.

Houses on the waterfront

The city grew rich in the past by levying a tax on all shipments through its territory. All this trade with foreigners left Melaka with a multicultural character that was so typical of Malaysia. Chinese shophouses, European cathedrals, Muslim mosques and Indian temples were the norm.

Church of St. Francis Xavier

At first, it was hard for me to reconcile how a small city could be so international at the same time. I usually associate multicultural places with major metropolises. You expect a city like Kuala Lumpur to be cosmopolitan. But Melaka was an example what the world could be like in miniature. Go to one street and you're in India. Turn around the corner, you're in China.

Chinese shophouses

I used to think that the price of living in an international city was dealing with all the traffic, pollution, and crowd density of urban life. In contrast, Melaka was a chance to have the best of both worlds: the fun of a melting pot of influences, with the peace of a small town.

Melaka has the most pimped-out bicycle rickshaws in Asia

Richard and Isabelle are a Dutch-French couple that have traveled extensively, in search of that perfect place. I met them through my Canadian friend, Colin. Until recently, the Thai islands were their home.

Richard (The Netherlands) and Isabelle (France), sitting in front of their cafe.

Then they discovered Melaka. Despite seeing other great spots in Thailand and Laos, Melaka was the one that won their hearts. Although buying property and opening a business in Malaysia are difficult tasks, they persevered.

Orang Belanda was the fruit of their efforts, a charming European cafe in Chinatown. Stepping into their coffee shop was like being back in Holland.

While chatting with them over Isabelle's excellent crepes, I fantasized about finding my own sweet spot. The search continues.

Me and Richard with the cafe's mascot, a cow

Inside Information

Getting to Melaka: Comfortable Transnational buses leave from Kuala Lumpur's Puduraya station to Melaka every hour. The ride usually takes about 2 hours.

On arrival at Melaka Sentral, follow the signs to the domestic terminal. Look for buses with "Town Centre" signs. Bus 17 is one. You can take them to the main square with the clock tower and the fountain.

Where to stay

I stayed at Jalan Jalan, a hostel in the heart of Chinatown. It's close to Jonkers Street, which is popular for its weekend night market. One plus is that the dorm doesn't use bunk beds. The downsides are there is only one shower and one (squat) toilet for the whole hostel. Ringo's Foyer Guest House got lots of good reviews from backpackers I met.

What to do

A Hong Kong girl recommended going to Melaka on a weekend, when they have the Jonkers Street night market. Book accommodation in advance, though, because Melaka is a popular weekend destination for people in Kuala Lumpur and Singapore.

The town square is the hub for the main colonial sights.

Getting out

Melaka is a convenient place to get to Singapore and Indonesia. Buses to Singapore take about 4-5 hours. Ferries to Dumai in Sumatra take 2 hours.

Angkor Wat: The Tourist Escape Plan

2009-06-01T13:03:00.014+08:00

Angkor Wat: The Temple of Temples

My tour guide was rattling off more boring statistics about temples when I stole a glance at my watch. 11:00 A.M. Maybe . . .

"So we go on to Angkor Wat?" Samnang asked.

"No, take me to lunch," I said.

"Eh?" He checked his watch. "But it is only eleven o' clock!"

"I know, it's okay."

Samnang turned to the tuk-tuk driver and translated my request into Khmer. The driver nodded and steered the tuk-tuk toward restaurant row.

My day in the ancient city of Angkor had not started well. My guide took me to several lesser temples first, saving Angkor Wat for last. Those temples had been clogged with tourists. I couldn't avoid shuffling along slowly behind everyone else, struggling to frame the other people out of my photos. Angkor Wat was the main temple, and it probably was going to be the worst for crowds. How could I get out of this?

Then I had a brainstorm: take an early lunch.

Our tuk-tuk pulled up in front of a restaurant. The guide said he'd wait for me outside with the driver. As I rolled into the restaurant, I took a look around. Empty of people. I found a waitress and ordered some food. She said it might take a little longer to cook. I was the first customer and they hadn't warmed up the oven yet. No problem.

By the time I finished my meal, shortly after twelve o' clock, the restaurant was packed with travelers. Time to move.

I ran out to the tuk-tuk. "Angkor Wat. Now!" The driver fumbled on his helmet and the guide and I jumped in. He revved up and we roared off in the direction of the famous temple.

"It is lunchtime, so there will be very few tourists at Angkor Wat," Samnang remarked.

"That's the plan!" I said.

"Ah!" he said, understanding. "You should have the temple all to yourself until 2:30 p.m."

"Excellent."

Sampang aided my effort by having the driver drop us off near the back entrance of Angkor Wat. As we walked up, I was struck by the serenity and silence. The place really was deserted, except for the forest we passed through. Glimpses of Angkor teased us. The feeling of discovery was exciting.

Angkor Wat through the back door

We stopped by a flimsy wooden fence and chatted a bit. It was unreal, having a casual conversation with one of the great wonders of the world just beyond us.

Finally, I started exploring inside. Turns out Angkor Wat wasn't empty after all. Cambodians were celebrating their Khmer New Year by burning joss sticks and praying to Buddha. Their holiday occured in April at the same time as the water-splashing festival (songkran) in Thailand, Myanmar and Laos. Vietnamese New Year (Tet) is different in that it followed China's, usually happening in January or February.

Cambodians praying

I couldn't believe my luck: not only was I dodging tourists, I was also getting to see locals carrying out their traditions too.

All this came at a high cost ot my health. Sampang warned me that I was visiting Angkor Wat during the hottest month of the year (April) and at the hottest time of the day. I sweated my water weight several times over. It got really bad when the metal on my camera burned my fingers, because it absorbed the sun's heat. I thought my camera would overheat and break down.

Although Angkor Wat was certainly massive and spectacular, I wasn't as awed as I should have been. Probably because I wasn't a temple virgin anymore, having been to both Bagan and Sukhothai. Does that make me a temple slut?

One reason I was disillusioned was that Angkor Wat had more visible damage than other temple complexes I'd seen. Bagan and Sukhothai were relatively well-preserved. Angkor Wat, on the other hand, showed the scars of generations of looting and vandalism.

Buddhas get no respect

Samnang explained that wars with Siam (old name of Thailand), French colonization, Japanese occupation, and Vietnamese invasion all had an impact on Angkor Wat. Buddha heads were cut off, whole statues carted away, embedded jewels dug out of walls, etc. Most treasures went on the black market in Thailand and ended up in the homes of wealthy private collectors.

I became fascinated by the behind-the-scenes facts Samnang told me. A Korean hotel company operated Angkor Wat (Sokha Hotel Co. Ltd.), ran the ticket booths and other administration. A veritable United Nations of archeological groups handled restoration for the temples. Teams from Japan, China, India, and France had all sent experts to aid the effort. For more information, see this Los Angeles Times article, Spirit Reset in Stone.

Sadly, the freedom from tourists didn't last. I had to see the obligatory sunset from a hill. Seemed like every famous temple demanded you stay until sunset. This was what I saw.

Sunset at Angkor Wat: tourist hell

Even worse, Angkor Wat was a tiny speck far away in the distance! At first, I couldn't even find it. I walked around the hill in a circle, looking out, and saw nothing. Then a local pointed out Angkor Wat to me. (This shot was taken with maximum zoom)

I was like, "That's it?! That's so bullshit!" Totally not as impressive as the vast landscape of temple ruins in Bagan:

Bagan, now that's a real sunset. (No zoom necessary)

Overall, Angkor Wat is definitely a must-see. But I couldn't help feeling disappointed. I did still have high hopes for the last two temple complexes on my list, but they were in another country.

Lake to the side of Angkor Wat

Inside Information

Visas: Most Westerners can get 30-day visas on arrival. Bring US$20 and one passport-sized photo.

Arrival

Flights arrive at the startlingly modern Angkor International Airport. For a third-world country, the airport is amazingly luxurious, tastefully decorated with Khmer sculptures. It looks more like a nice museum than an airport.

Many hotels will arrange to pick you up if you book in advance. Just make sure to include your flight number and arrival time with your online reservation. Otherwise, you can negotiate with a tuk-tuk driver.

Currency

Cambodia almost universally uses U.S. dollars for any transactions with tourists. Even the ATMs dispense U.S. dollars, so it's a good place to get some if you're running low on hard cash.

Don't bother exchanging money for Khmer riels. You'll get what you need when you receive change. Spend all your riel before you leave Cambodia. Just like other former Indochina countries like Laos and Vietnam, you can't exchange that money outside of the country.

Vietnam and Myanmar also have dual-currency systems. This is where they use U.S. dollars for big travel expenses like hotels and air tickets, and local currency for restaurants and markets. But in Cambodia, everything is paid with U.S. dollars.

Where to stay

I stayed at Mandalay Inn. My room was nice and the service was friendly. For dorms, go to Siem Reap Hostel.

What to do

The main attraction are the temples of Angkor. Angkor is the name of the complex of temples, Angkor Wat is the main temple. You can do them as a tour, rent a bicycle or hire a tuk-tuk for the day. For seeing temples, I've always hired a driver, it's the most convenient way to get around.

Where to party

Pub Street is my favorite backpacker ghetto in Southeast Asia (I can't stand Khao San Road in Bangkok). Restaurants are spacious, 2-story French-style shophouses, stylishly designed and serve good food at reasonable prices. As a bonus, there are street food stalls at one end of the road if you want something cheaper and local. Best of both worlds in one place.

Chiang Mai: Choose Your Own Adventure

2009-05-13T13:34:00.014+08:00

On the move at Mae Taeng Elephant Park

"The complete backpacker package" is how my Rough Guide to Southeast Asia on a Budget describes the northern Thai city. Couldn't be more apt. Chiang Mai has temples for culture vultures, markets for bargain hunters and nightlife for partiers.

But Chiang Mai is more of a place to do stuff, not see stuff. This became
apparent when I saw the stacks of brochures all over the place. Travel
agencies and guesthouses have binders as thick as phone books about
the tours they offer.

They describe every kind of activity you could imagine: jungle trekking, elephant riding, river rafting, even more shockingly modern pursuits, like go-cart racing and paintball! Looking around at all the travel agencies, guesthouses and tour companies, I could see what Luang Prabang in Laos was trying to become.

Chiang Mai is a fun factory that could keep a traveler busy for months. As much stuff as I did, it was only a fraction of what was available. Browsing through those binders reminded me of the Choose Your Own Adventure books I read as a kid. Except for real.

Here are some of my adventures:

Bamboo river rafting with Maria and Manuel (Spain)

Ox cart riding

Doi Suthep temple

I've softened my stance on tours. I used to be militantly against any and all tours. But now I just hate package tours, where a company controls your entire trip. Day-long tours to visit attractions are fine. Convenient in that they arrange transportation and pick you up at your hotel.

Make sure you're ready to go 15-20 minutes before the tour is scheduled to start. Every time I've done a tour, the guide came to my hotel early. If they say the tour starts at 10:00 A.M., expect them to come around 9:45 A.M. The tour company has to collect guests from different hotels so they can depart from the city on time.

There were a few close calls when I was caught with my pants down--hurrying to finish up my business with the toilet before rushing out to the tour van!

Tours are also good for meeting people. Accommodation in Southeast Asia is so cheap that I often stay in hotels. Great for privacy, but harder to meet people than if I stayed in a hostel. So tours are a good way to socialize.

In places that have so many tour companies, it can be hard to choose one. I think if you like your hotel, it's pretty safe to book tours through them. If you're staying in a backpacker-style place, their tours will probably have younger travelers as well.

Chiang Mai felt like backpacker central. The city's main draw is tourism, it doesn't have a variety of industries like Bangkok. This will sound blasphemous, but I think of Bangkok as being more Thai than Chiang Mai. Yes, Bangkok's more modern, but it didn't seem completely devoted to chasing tourist dollars like Chiang Mai. I've heard if you want to sample traditional Thai life, check out Isaan.

Being a university town, there's a great youthful energy to the place. Cultural classes are as popular as outdoor activities. You can study the language, Thai cooking and many other things.

I found this out when I was having a drink at Rooftop Bar. I met a group of Japanese girls at the table next to mine. After exchanging introductions, we got to talking. Turned out they were all in Chiang Mai to study.

Miho, Keiko and Mayumi (Japan)

"What are you studying?" I asked.

"We study Thai massage," Keiko said. She explained they were training to be physical therapists, and wanted to learn some foreign techniques.

Later, we talked about mistaken identity. Everywhere I went, I got mistaken for a local person. One of my tour guides was surprised to see me when she picked me up at a hotel. Why would a Thai person want to take a tour?

"Sometimes people think I'm Thai," I said. "How about you guys? Do people ever think you're Thai?"

Keiko translated my questions for the others. They answered. She said sadly, "No, people always know we are Japanese."

Inside Information

Getting there

By train: Most travelers go to Chiang Mai via overnight train from Bangkok.
It's a really long ride if you go by bus.

Buy the train tickets at Bangkok's Hualamphong Railway Station. Avoid the
smiling "information officials" who will try to get you to buy train tickets
from the travel agencies. They'll charge you unnecessary commission fees.

The official ticket clerks in the glass booths will speak enough English to
handle a transaction. If you want a sleeper berth, buy your ticket a couple
of days in advance. They sell out quickly.

If you're really keen on getting to Chiang Mai as soon as you land from overseas, you can take airport bus AE4 straight from Bangkok Suvarnabhumi airport to Hualamphong station.

You might find yourself stuck in Bangkok overnight if all the sleeper tickets are sold out. In that case, you can go to The Train Inn, which is very close to the station. Signs outside the train station will you guide you there.

Here's the rough timetable for the two most convenient trains from Bangkok
to Chiang Mai. Double-check with the ticket clerk before you buy, or with
the State Railway of Thailand. Chiang Mai is on the Northern Line.

No. 13 Special Express Train
Depart: 7:35 P.M.
Arrive: 9:45 A.M. next day
Duration: 14 hours
air-conditioning, no fans
Cost upper/lower bunk: 791 baht / 881 baht

No. 110 Rapid Train
Depart 10:00 P.M.
Arrive 12:45 P.M. next day
fan-cooled, no air-conditioning
Duration: 14 hours 45 minutes
Cost upper/lower bunk: 531 baht / 581 baht

Where to stay

CM Blue House has nice rooms at reasonable prices. It's where I stayed. Julie Guesthouse and Daret's House are popular backpacker places. Beware of guesthouses that have really cheap rooms. They're more likely to pressure you to book tours through them.

What to do

Any guesthouse should have reams of tour-company brochures in the reception area. The company I used through CM Blue House was Sompong Tours. Good prices, air-conditioned vans and cheerful tour guides.

Shopping

Chiang Mai has the most secondhand bookstores I've seen in Southeast Asia. Gecko Books is the most famous, but Backstreet Books is also big. There are about a half-dozen bookstores around Chang Moi Kao Road, opposite Tha Pae Gate.

The Chiang Mai Night Bazaar is also fun for buying local crafts. Relaxed and charming, great for wandering around.

Getting out

As great as Chiang Mai was, I heard from backpackers that it gets better the more north you go. Chiang Rai, Mae Hong Son and Pai came highly recommended, especially for trekking. Pai is supposed to be a hippie town with lots of art cafes and live-music clubs, and fun for hanging out.

Buses leave from Chiang Mai's Arcade Bus Station. Since Chiang Mai is that last stop on the northern train line, any onward travel has to be done by bus.

Sukhothai: Thai to the Core

2009-04-06T10:50:00.009+08:00

After seeing Bagan in Myanmar, I got the Indiana Jones bug. Ancient temples were my new playgrounds.

Sukhothai was the next target on my hit list. It's the cradle of Thai civilization, where the alphabet was invented.

I was torn between going to Ayutthaya or Sukhothai, the two main temple cities in Thailand. Once I weighed the factors, I eliminated Ayutthaya because:

--a lot of it was destroyed by Burmese armies in the past. Sukhothai is better preserved.

--Ayutthaya's traditional and modern architecture are all mixed together. Old and New Sukhothai are kept separate.

What grabbed my attention were the little accoutrements of civilization that marked Thailand as more advanced than Myanmar: footlights strategically placed around each temple, glossy new displays with English-language descriptions, and tasteful landscaping.

It was pretty cool to see sidewalks and rows of bushes leading to each temple. While walking around, I had the feeling of being in an outdoor museum. Sukhothai was a good example of proper temple maintenance.

Bridge to Wat Trapang Ngoen

The lush greenery was a pleasant surprise. In Bagan, the various kings had cleared the forest, lending the place the barren atmosphere of a desert on Mars. Sukhothai felt more in harmony with its natural environment.

Like I did in Bagan, I rented a driver for the day. Ended up with a motorized tuk tuk instead of a horse cart. Again with Thailand being more modern than Myanmar!

Backpackers usually prefer to see temples the cheap way: taking a public bus or songthaew to the main entrance, then renting a bike at the site. I saw this in Bagan too.

I prefer to save my energy for climbing around the temples and taking photos, instead of getting from place to place. Riding around in a tuk tuk also served as a natural fan, with the wind in my face cooling me down.

The Wat Mahathat temple complex was the first site I hit. The soaring stupas and scattered ruins made me think this was the Thai equivalent of the Roman Forum in Italy.

Photos of Wat Mahathat complex

Later, at Wat Sri Sawai, I saw Hindu temples built in the Khmer style. They were a good preview of what I'd see at Angkor Wat in Cambodia.

Wat Sri Sawai

After a while, I recognized a standard layout for Sukhothai temples: two lines of columns leading up to a seated Buddha with a lotus-bud stupa behind it.

The standard Sukhothai temple setup

Comparisons with Bagan are unavoidable, and one of the first things I observed was that Sukhothai's Buddhas were a lot smaller. Burmese also love to coat their Buddhas in gold leaf, while Thais leave their Buddhas with a more natural stone appearance.

The one Buddha that could take on any in Bagan was at Wat Sri Chum. That specimen was a monster. Although I usually prefer not to have tourists in the same photograph as monuments, this was an exception. Having this mere mortal in the photo really gives you a sense of the scale of this Buddha.

A man prays in Wat Sri Chum

Thailand is the tourism capital of Southeast Asia, so I was surprised at how few tourists there were. While I was on the train, I got the impression that most people head straight to Chiang Mai and skip Sukhothai. For me, it was a nice spot to break up the trip between Bangkok and Chiang Mai.

Wat Trapang Ngoen Buddha

Inside Information

Getting there

Bus: Depart from Mo Chit Bus station in the north of Bangkok. You can take the Skytrain to Mo Chit Skytrain station, then take a 10-minute taxi ride the rest of the way. Buses leave frequently and take 6-7 hours.

Train: The closest train station is in Phitsanulok. Getting to Sukhothai this way is a transport marathon. The train from Bangkok to Phitsanulok takes 5-6 hours. Then you have to take a bicycle rickshaw from the Phitsanulok train station to Phitsanulok bus station. Take a bus for 1 hour to Sukhothai bus station. Then take a songthaew to your guesthouse.

Where to stay

I stayed at Garden House in a bungalow with private bathroom. There was this weird smell in my room, so I wouldn't stay there again. The Ban Thai Guesthouse next door seemed better.

Garden House
11/1 Pravet Nakhon Rd

Sukhothai, Sukhothai Province

Tel: (055) 611 395

Ban Thai Guesthouse
38 Pravet Nakhon Rd

Sukhothai, Sukhothai Province

Tel: (055) 610 163

Where to eat

Dream Cafe -- a gourmet restaurant that serves Thai and Western dishes. A classy choice in otherwise drab New Sukhothai.

Dream Cafe
88/1 Thanon Singhawat

Inle Lake: Oasis of Culture

2009-03-22T16:45:00.016+08:00

Boatmen collecting seaweed on Inle Lake
(Click on photo for full album)

Floating villages. They're the main attraction of Inle Lake, a required stop on any Myanmar itinerary. The lake isn't just a body of water. To residents, it means transportation, food and economy.

View from a wooden stilt house on Inle Lake.

I took a boat tour with some travelers from my hotel, Queen Inn. Jeroen and Keetie were from the Netherlands. Their great travel stories got me interested in visiting another country I hadn't considered before.

My favorite moment was as our motorboat entered the floating villages. A chorus of "Hello!" came from everywhere. Young children ran up, excitedly shouting to us from their wooden stilt houses and boats.

A warm welcome from youngsters

The majority of places we visited were craft workshops. Sadly, the Inle Lake workshops were the only blatantly touristy venues I encountered in Myanmar. Everywhere else in the country, the attractions felt more genuine.

At Inle Lake, a lot of the establishments seemed set up to sell stuff to travelers. The promises of "I give you good price!" could have happened in any country in Asia.

Jeroen (Netherlands) and Davina (Australia) chat outside the shop.

One example was this silversmith. When we first entered, the shop floor was abuzz with activity: silversmiths assembling jewelry, pumping fire under hot coals, etc. The guy with the best English explained what each artisan was doing, then he hustled us into a gift shop.

I sneaked back to the shop floor 5 minutes later. All the "silversmiths" were gone, probably chewing betel nut or having a smoke. Busted! Total scam.

One of the most famous attractions at Inle Lake is the "Jumping Cat" monastery. The prevailing theory was the monks got so bored of meditation and isolation that they trained cats to jump on command.

For someone expecting a circus-style act with lions leaping through flaming hoops, the jumping cats were a bit anticlimactic. Walking around looking at the Buddha statues was more rewarding.

Speaking of circus acts, we went to see the long-necked women. They're of the Padaung Hill Tribe. A Russian girl I'd met said you could also see long-necked women in Mae Hong Son in northern Thailand. They're the ones who escaped from Myanmar.

I don't know, it just felt strange to watch women with abnormally long necks while they did weaving. A saleswoman explained that long necks were a symbol of beauty in their tribe. They start young, and add more rings to their necks as they get older.

Strangely enough, the youngest long-necked girl kept staring at me as I took photos. (She's the one on the far right in the second photo). It was like she thought I was the exotic, interesting person.

Our last stop was a cigarette-making plant. All the cigarettes were hand-rolled by women, some of them young girls.

This was the only workshop that felt real. I commented to other travelers, "It gives you the feeling that they were working before we arrived, and they'll keep working after we leave."

Jeroen, one of the Dutch backpackers, set out to calculate how much a cigarette girl earned in one day. They got paid 2 kyat (US$0.002) per cigarette. If a girl made 1,000 in one day, she could make US$2. That's depressing.

A good day's work

On a more positive note, Myanmar's infamously small travel world worked its magic again. In Yangon, I'd met a group of cool French and Belgian backpackers at the Shwedagon Paya. We were supposed to meet up in Mandalay next, but I wasn't able to get a plane ticket.

While I was wandering around Nyaungshwe (the gateway city for Inle Lake), I ran into the group! We caught up on each other's travels and arranged to have dinner together at the Golden Kite Restaurant.

Their laughter, conversation and bubbling energy were fun to be around. It reminded me why I travel.

Hanging out with the French-Belgian crew at Golden Kite Restaurant.

Mandalay: City of Kings

2009-03-18T17:47:00.020+08:00

Mandalay Palace complex
(click on photos for full album)

Myanmar consistently defied my expectations. After experiencing the outdated infrastructure and basic facilities in Yangon and Bagan, I expected more of the same in Mandalay.

Instead, I got a booming, modernizing city. Mandalay was close to China, and it was flourishing from trade with the mainland. Myanmar provided raw materials, like gas and jade. In return, China sold manufactured goods (and probably military hardware).

Everywhere I looked, Mandalay seemed like the "new cities" I'd seen sprouting all over China. Giant warehouse stores, shop stalls selling household products, and lots of trade going on. The people even had more fashionable clothes. It was like a mini-Shanghai in Myanmar.

Running into the same travelers over and over in Myanmar is virtually guaranteed. Everyone goes to the Big 4: Yangon, Mandalay, Bagan and Inle Lake. Add to this recipe is that fewer travelers go to the country in the first place and visas are only valid for 28 days. During my trip, I'd constantly encounter familiar faces.

This is welcome, since staying in touch while in Myanmar is impossible. SIM cards are overpriced, and Internet connections are pretty bad. I couldn't work on my blog the whole time I was in the country, because it would have taken ages to upload the photos.

The lack of communications forced me to be really old-school in arranging meet-ups with travelers. While in Yangon, I'd become good friends with Stephan, an expat from Quebec who ran a trading business in Thailand. Later, we met up in Bagan and had dinner. Since we were both going to Mandalay next, it was inevitable that we should try to meet.

"How about we stay at the same hotel?" I suggested.

"Okay. I think Royal City Hotel is good," Stephan said.

"All right, let's both stay there," I said.

"Great."

"Wait!" I said. "What if it's full? We should decide on a backup hotel. If we can't stay at Royal City Hotel, at least we'll both go the same second choice."

"Oh, right!" Stephan looked at the guidebook for a moment. "How about the Silver Swan Hotel?"

"Then it's settled. Royal City first, then Silver Swan," I declared.

Stephan took the Bagan-Mandalay ferry, while I opted to fly with Air Bagan (it has shady connections, but what doesn't in this country?).

Neither of us wanted to take our chances on buses. In Myanmar, the bus trips are long (20+ hours) and over some of the worst roads in Asia. One Canadian girl complained, "The roads here are even worse than Mongolia!"

Upon arriving at the Royal City Hotel, I set about tracking down Stephan.

"Excuse me, did my friend arrive yet?" I asked.

"Where is your friend from?" the Burmese receptionist asked.

"He's from Quebec, Canada," I said.

The receptionist ran her finger down the guestbook. Then she stopped at a name. "Ah! Is your friend a little . . . ?" She gestured with her hands to indicate someone overweight.

"Yeah!" I said excitedly. "That's him!"

Stephan and I rolling up into the Mandalay Night Market

Since Stephan got to Mandalay a day before me, he had already seen a lot. We talked over dinner at BBB about the sights. He favored seeing Mandalay Palace over the Mandalay Hill.

My first impression was that the palace reminded me of the Forbidden City in Beijing. A massive walled city-within-a-city. The main difference was that the Mandalay Palace felt more overtly militaristic. Lots of soldiers around, because the complex housed an army barracks.

Although Myanmar was ruled by a harsh military regime, it wasn't really evident when I walked around the country. Labor camps and detention centers were hidden from public view. Mandalay was the first place where I felt the government's iron fist.

Just outside the palace on the highway, I saw this propaganda billboard.

(Click to enlarge)

That was the sort of thing I expected to see if I visited North Korea. Myanmar is a bit freer with tourists, compared to the DPRK. I didn't have to travel on a package tour (shudder) and have a government chaperone accompany me at all times.

Certain areas, like Shan state, are off-limits to tourists because the government is waging a war against ethnic minorities who seek autonomy and even outright independence. The Karens are a prime example.

One of the big differences between Mandalay Palace and the Forbidden City is that there is a thriving town inside it. There's an entire community that lives within the walls of the palace. As I strolled toward the old complex, I passed women washing clothes, cooking food and people pedaling on bicycles. Like other places I visited in Myanmar, there wasn't a strict division between the community and the tourist site.

In the complex itself, the palace buildings were grand, in that uniquely Southeast Asian aesthetic of vivid colors and gold-leaf trim. I'd seen similar architecture in Thailand and Laos.

A couple of bright white sugar-cubed buildings stood out. They seemed more like something I'd see in Greece (for example Santorini), not in Southeast Asia.

The most interesting thing happened to me as I was walking on the long road to exit the complex. Familiar sounds started wafting to my ears. As I got closer to an intersection, I recognized it: hip-hop music.

But where was it coming from? I turned my head and tried to walk toward the sound. Then my eyes fell on two soldiers sitting down on the sidewalk at the intersection. An old stereo was at their feet. They were listening to the rapper spinning his rhymes, while they smoked and had no expression on their faces. The music was in English! From America!

When one of the soldiers looked at me, I spun away quickly and picked up my pace. Didn't want to get into trouble in a country like this.

Still, I couldn't help but feel a little hopeful. In spite of economic sanctions, international isolation and a xenophobic government that tried to block all foreign influences, something had slipped through. Even a brawling military junta can't keep down the renegade street beats!

Bagan: A Shot to the Temple

2009-03-16T15:31:00.026+08:00

Sunset at the ancient city of Bagan
(click on photo for full album)

"The roads are bad, the food is worse, and you'll get sick," said an NGO worker I knew who had worked in Myanmar.

Travel isn't travel unless things go wrong. So far, I'd managed to dodge food poisoning, tropical diseases, bad weather and political upheaval. But my luck finally ran out in Myanmar.

A cool Singaporean girl had invited me to take the "circle train" with her. It's a train that goes around the whole of Yangon at a snail's speed, a 3-hour trip. But I was eager to hang out with her.

Then on my last day in Yangon, I was racked by body cramps, aching bones and vomiting. The scary part was that I didn't know what I had. Talking to other travelers only made it worse, they said I could have had anything from malaria to dengue fever. Better to get an expert opinion.

The reception at my guesthouse recommended a local hospital, because it would be cheaper. Fearing a doctor would just cut out my kidneys to sell on the black market, I took a taxi to an international hospital instead. Sometimes it's wiser to spend the extra money. The peace of mind is priceless.

Gene, an American traveler, kindly offered to accompany me. I wrote out my mother's contact info for him, just in case I suddenly keeled over. He laughed and said I'd be fine.

The Burmese physician, who had gone to medical school in the United States, carefully examined me.

"Ah, you have the heat exhaustion," Dr. Zayyar said.

"You're sure it's not food poisoning?" I asked nervously.

He chuckled. "If you had the food poisoning, you still vomit and defecate." The doctor prescribed oral rehydration salts, electrolyte powder, lots of water and the standard "plenty of rest."

I hobbled back out to the street and grabbed a taxi to my guesthouse. Heatstroke was manageable, I thought. It's those mosquito-borne diseases and food poisoning that are really nasty.

"Where were you?!" Yingshi asked, when she saw me eating noodles in the dining hall. "I waited for you for like 20 minutes."

"I'm so sorry!" I babbled. "I got heatstroke and I was out in bed the whole day."
Fortunately, she understood and we chatted about her day for a while. Talking to fun girls is one of life's pleasures, but the heatstroke made it miserable. Just moving my mouth to form words was exhausting.

Having heatstroke was bad enough, but being forced to cancel a date was really humiliating. I've been left hanging by girls in the past, and I hated having to stand up someone as cool as Yingshi.

The worst part was that I had to go to Bagan the next day, I'd already booked my flight. An English friend had warned me about the terrible state of Myanmar's roads, and she said it was worth the higher expense to fly.

Heatstroke made me extremely irritable. I couldn't be bothered to do the smallest tasks, and it was like I hated the whole world. Have you ever been in so much misery that you were pissed off at anyone who was happy?

Nobody would leave me alone! Guys would constantly invite me to hang out, girls would smile and stop to chat. It was awful, I just wanted them all to go to hell. Maintaining my poise was difficult. Later, when they found out I had heatstroke, people said they were surprised that I could be so cheerful and energetic.

The smart thing to do was simply go back to Bangkok and recover in civilization. But I'd been wanting to visit Myanmar for 3 years, ever since I saw a photo of the Shwedagon Paya in a guidebook. And I'd invested so much in plane tickets, visas and vaccine shots that I couldn't just quit.

I'd like to think it's because I have supreme willpower, but it was more likely a combination of stubbornness, ego, and sheer male stupidity that I kept on going. At that point, I hated failure more than I hated heatstroke.

Somehow, I dragged my ass to the airport and got on the plane, even though I felt like I was on the verge of collapse. There was a very fashionable girl in the seat next to me. She could have been a really rich Burmese girl or a middle-class Thai. She had the dark sunglasses and white fur coat of the glitteratti. Normally, I'd try to strike up a conversation. Instead, I aimed for the more modest goal of not puking on her.

When I checked into my hotel in Nyaung U (the gateway city to Bagan), I bought a big bottle of water and went straight to my room. I drank the water with an electrolyte solution and slept the whole day. After 2 days of rest, I had fully recovered. But then I got diarrhoea, confining me to the room for a third day. Being sick sucks!

For transportation to the Bagan temples, I rented a horsecart and driver for the day. It cost 10,000 kyat (US$10). I got lucky that my driver wasn't a motormouth who constantly explained every temple to me. As we pulled up to a new one, he'd give a succinct introduction, like, "This is the only Indian temple in Bagan" or "This is the tallest temple in Bagan." I prefer to explore on my own and take photos, rather than listen to a verbal textbook all day.

In another topic, I've never walked barefoot as often as I have in Myanmar. In Laos, sometimes I had to take off my shoes to enter temples and even shops. But in Myanmar, the entire temples and the surrounding grounds are off-limits to footwear. Flip-flops are a must. Otherwise, it's a hassle to always have to slip off your shoes.

This became a problem, because Myanmar is really hot and dry. In the middle of the day, the stone floors can be scorching. When I was walking around outside the Ananda Pahto, Bagan's most famous temple, I tried to stick to the shaded areas. Whenever I came across a wide space in the blazing sun, I'd run across as fast as I could, cursing the whole way: "Fuck fuck fuck! My feet are getting fried!"

Ananda Pahto Temple

While I was wandering around the Ananda Pahto, a Burmese man came up to me and told me to stand in a certain position with the temple behind me. Confused, I thought I'd broken some rule about visiting temples. Once I was standing in the right place, he called to a group of Burmese girls. They excitedly took turns standing next to me, while the man took photos of us!

Acting like a star with a random Burmese girl

My white friends who've lived in China and Japan have told me this had happened to them. But I've never experienced it, because of my Asian appearance. It's the first time I had that celebrity treatment for just being a foreigner. Or did they mistake me for a Burmese film star?

Bagan is one of Myanmar's biggest attractions, so any tourist will face a gauntlet of people trying to sell them postcards, paintings, etc. It wasn't as bad for me, because I can pass for a local sometimes. But some of the white tourists I saw seemed harassed and weary of the constant haggling.

My favorite sight was the Dhammayangi Temple.

Unfortunately, it was the also the worst for dealing with touts and vendors. From the moment I stepped through the entrance, I was bombarded with offers to buy souvenirs. Young children would offer to give me "tours," but their only real service was carrying a flashlight to guide me through dark corners. I had brought my own flashlight, so I didn't need them.

Luckily, an Indian tour group came in after me, so the vendors abandoned me for riper pickings. Now I was free to wander without interference.

If you love to climb and explore, Bagan is paradise. There are lots of hidden stairways and tunnels all over the place. But the stairways are often really narrow. I'd have to squeeze my shoulders in and walk sideways to get through the stair entrance doors. I joked to my driver, "Were Burmese people really that small back then?" He laughed and nodded.

After a grueling day of walking in the hot sun and listening to endless sales pitches, I was ready to go home. I got into the horsecart and asked the driver how many temples I'd seen. He counted in his head, then said, "Thirteen!" When you've seen that many, even the Buddhas start to look the same.

Golden Buddha at Thatbyinnyu Paya

The sun was setting as my horsecart clip-clopped away from Bagan. Then I saw a cool temple in the distance.

"Stop!" I said to the driver. Pointing, I said, "Take me there!"

He looked in that direction. "That temple not famous!" he protested.

"Never mind, just go," I ordered.

Later, I found out that it was called the Buledi Temple (a.k.a. Temple 394). Excitedly, I climbed up the steps toward the top.

Once at the peak, I walked around the corner to where the sun was setting. Awesome.

I saw down to appreciate the view. I overcame heatstroke, diarrhoea and every tout in Bagan for this. Totally worth it.

But I couldn't help feeling a bit sad. Sunsets are best when they're shared.

"Well, look who's here," said a feminine voice.

Surprised, I turned around. "Yingshi!"

"Hey! Good to see you," she said.

"When did you get in?" I asked.

"I just arrived on the bus from Bago," Yingshi said.

"Perfect timing," I said, smiling.

Yingshi (Singapore)

Yangon: Stepping into Burma

2009-03-14T13:32:00.066+08:00

"Then, a golden mystery upheaved itself on the horizon - a beautiful, winking wonder that blazed in the sun of a shape that was neither Muslim dome nor Hindu temple spire. It stood upon a green knoll. 'There's the old Shwedagon,' said my companion. The golden dome said, 'This is Burma, and it will be quite unlike any land you know about.'"

--Rudyard Kipling, Letters from the East (1898)

Monks stroll past the Shwedagon Paya
(click on photo for full album)

"Myanmar? Where's that?"

This was the response I got from many backpackers, when I told them I was going to Myanmar (a.k.a. Burma). If I thought Laos was obscure, then Myanmar was a complete unknown. Even travelers who've been everywhere from Bali to Bangkok had never heard of Burma.

Before I landed in Yangon, there were many signs that I was heading into frontier territory. I applied for my Vietnam and Myanmar visas in Hong Kong. While the Vietnamese consulate was crowded with backpackers, the Myanmar consulate was totally empty. The consular official there seemed surprised that anyone even wanted to visit her country.

Before arriving, I read articles about about the country's brutal military junta. I admit to watching Rambo 4, and still wanting to do it anyway. The decision of whether to visit is a controversial issue, best detailed in this Lonely Planet article, "Should you go?" (PDF file). When I landed in Yangon airport, I was braced for the worst. I was expecting an Orwellian ordeal.

The big shock was that the airport was actually nice. The white, gleaming hall looked brand new. Instead of snarling soldiers, the immigration officials were all cute, cheerful little women. Later, I found out that only the international terminal was nice. The part of the airport for domestic flights was as ugly and decrepit as I expected.

I'd like to romanticize Yangon, but my first impression was: Third-World Hellhole. More than once, I asked myself, "Why the hell did I take a vacation in Burma?" The city was littered with buildings that should have been demolished decades ago, streets criss-crossed with enough huge cracks to undermine the best shock absorbers and an appalling amount of dust and dirt everywhere.

Yangon was a far cry from the buzzing urban machines of Shanghai and Bangkok. In Asia, a booming region with countries battling for economic dominance, Myanmar felt like the slow kid left behind in the race.

"Residential Development"

"Public Transportation"

The mix of economic mismanagement and diplomatic isolation made the country feel like a time capsule of what Southeast Asia was like in the early 20th century. Thailand, Malaysia and Singapore might have been similar to this before they leaped into hyper-charged GDP growth.

In a fair world, Myanmar should be one of the richest and most-visited countries in Southeast Asia. It has large deposits of oil, natural gas, precious gems (particularly rubies), teak wood, jade and metals. Its man-made and natural sights are spectacular, rivaling anything I've seen in Asia--including China.

The first thing that struck me was the people. Men and women wear sarong-like garments called longyis. Women and children wear a yellow paste on their faces called thanaka. It's used as make-up, moisturizer and sunblock.

Employees at Motherland Inn 2, my guesthouse in Yangon

Noodle vendors at Bogyoke Aung San Market

Burmese are surprisingly upbeat, friendly, and cheerful despite their poverty. They are amazingly hospitable to visitors, making them natural-born hosts.

I've seen Buddhism all over Asia, but never as fervently practiced and revered on such a grand scale as in Myanmar. In a nation where people struggle to find enough to eat, they lavish all their wealth on their temples. The poverty of their living circumstances is a stark contrast to the magnificence of their Buddhist architecture.

Shwedagon Paya complex

Instead of sterile exhibits, Burmese sights have no velvet ropes, glass cases, and warning signs to keep tourists from touching. People are invited to wash monuments with water, add coatings of gold leaf and maintain them. They're living pieces, not just museum artifacts.

From what I gather, Burmese people are concerned with building up merit to ensure they have better conditions in the next life. They do this by showering their attention and gifts on temples and monuments.

Giant reclining Buddha at Chaukhtatgyi Paya

This is a 180-degree difference from how Americans focus on the here and now. Try to imagine if Americans spent all their disposable income on renovating their churches instead of on their houses and cars, then you'll have some idea of how passionate Burmese are about Buddhism. Anyone interested in this religion should definitely check out Myanmar.

I read that Myanmar gets half the tourists Laos gets, and only about 1.5% of Thailand's intake. That makes it the least-visited country in Southeast Asia. It's hard to appreciate that when only looking at the numbers.

The lack of tourists made a big difference in my experience. Whenever I'd go to temples and other sights, the locals would far outnumber the foreigners. I felt more privileged at getting to observe another culture. Everything felt more authentic and less manufactured to chase travel dollars.

Until Myanmar, I'd assumed that all the great sights of the world had been discovered by the hordes. It's one of the last places left for a pure journey.

Inside Information

For great articles on Burma travel, check out the New York Times Myanmar Travel Guide. The Wikitravel Myanmar Guide also has some good tips.

Need more convincing to go? Here's a fabulous photo essay called The Spirit of Burma. The complete photo album is up at Zenfolio.com.

Burma's media is tightly controlled by the military junta. The best independent source of news is The Irrawaddy. It's a news magazine founded by Burmese dissidents in Thailand.

Burma experiences power outages every night. It's a good idea to always keep a small flashlight on hand.

Money Matters

The most practical advice I can offer about traveling to Burma is to bring lots of U.S. dollars. They must be in pristine condition, Burmese are super-picky about what bills they will accept. Also bring lots of smaller bills. You need to pay in U.S. dollars for admission to tourist sites like the temple complex of Bagan.

Burma has no financial infrastructure. Foreign banks pulled out when U.S. President George W. Bush enacted economic sanctions on the country, and all the local banks collapsed in a financial crisis in 2003. There are no ATMs and most places won't accept credit cards.

Certain top-end hotels will allow you to get cash advances on your credit card, but will charge punishingly high rates. I knew one Belgian backpacker who didn't do any research and showed up cashless. He said a cash advance had a 20 percent fee.

A safe place to exchange dollars for Burmese kyat (pronounced "chat") is the Central Hotel. If you're confident in your haggling skills, try going across the street from the Central Hotel to the Bogyoke Aung San Market. If you look like a foreigner, you won't have to look hard for a moneychanger, they'll find you. US$100 bills get better exchange rates than smaller bills.

Always count the kyat yourself before handing your dollars over. Important: once you've counted the kyat, do not let the money changer touch the kyat again. Travelers have said they're like magicians in their ability to snatch back bills without you realizing it.

Yangon is the best place to exchange money. You can exchange money in the other main tourist sites like Mandalay, Inle Lake, and Bagan, but you'll get a worse rate. I did most of my exchanging in Yangon at the beginning of my trip, then exchanged smaller amounts as I went along.

Spend all your kyat before you leave Burma. You won't be able to exchange your kyat once you're out of the country.

Where to stay

The Motherland Inn 2 is the main center of Burma's tiny backpacker scene. Make sure to call them to book a room, their online reservation form doesn't work (welcome to Burma). They also offer a free pickup service at the airport. The cars are pretty dirty and old, though.

It's a great place to meet other travelers. Since the Burma tourist scene is so small and everyone goes to the Big Four (Yangon, Mandalay, Bagan, and Inle Lake), you're bound to run into the same people over and over again.

The one downside is that it's a good 30-40 minute walk from downtown Yangon. Taxis cost like US$1.50, so it wasn't a big deal. If I visited again, I'd stay at the Mayshan Guesthouse or somewhere else more central.

Most guesthouses also offer travel services for booking onward transport. When I ordered a plane ticket at a travel agency, the price was nearly the same as what Motherland Inn 2 quoted. Also get the desk clerk to call and book your next hotel for you. They're usually happy to help.

Internet

You can access the Internet in Yangon, but the speed is really slow. Part of it is bad infrastructure and also the government tries to censor it. Luckily, most Internet cafe operators know how to get around the firewalls. This was a surprise, because when I lived in China, it was much harder to access sensitive websites. I thought the mountain town of Pwin U Lwin had the fastest Internet speeds.

Moving on

Most backpackers use long-distance buses to get around the country. I wouldn't recommend this, as distances are vast and the roads are in abysmal condition. It doesn't matter how plush your bus is, the roads will make the ride miserable. I flew everywhere, and the planes are serviceable.

Air Bagan has the nicest planes, but they're often sold out. I usually flew on Yangon Airways, which is also fine. The planes are small and propeller-driven. Avoid the government-run Myanma Airways. It's easy to steer clear, since most local travel agents don't even bother to sell tickets for it.

Many airlines do a daily "circle flight" stopping at the Big 4: Yangon, Mandalay, Nyaung U (for Bagan) and Heho (for Inle Lake). It's almost like an aerial bus route.

Luang Prabang: The French Connection

2009-02-27T00:00:00.004+08:00

Royal Palace Museum

A wide thoroughfare like the Champs Elysee? Check. Sidewalk cafes? Check. French mansions and architecture? Check. It's official: Luang Prabang is the Paris of Southeast Asia.

With its abundance of exquisite Buddhist temples and well-preserved French houses, Luang Prabang felt more like a capital city than Vientiane. The constant flow of travelers also created a real buzz to the place that Vientiane lacked. It's much more of a hot destination than the capital.

It also resembles Paris in a less pleasant way. Luang Prabang may have gotten too popular for its own good, as an Australian backpacker commented to me. Finding a guesthouse that costs less than 100,000 kip a night (US$11.78) was a miracle.

You know you've been traveling in Southeast Asia for too long when anything over US$15 a night for a private room seems too expensive. There are so many tourists in Laos that finding budget accommodation can be difficult. You can't really negotiate, because the manager knows that if you turn down his room, there will be another foreigner who will take it.

Most guesthouses in Laos also don't accept reservations, maybe it's just too much work for the clerks. So I was stuck with tramping around from one place to the next, inspecting rooms and inquring about rates. Clean beds tend to be common, but bathrooms vary wildly in quality.

The best advice for finding a place to stay is to time your arrival at around 10:00 a.m. to 12:00 noon. By the afternoon, all the cheap rooms have been taken and you'll see "Full" signs on every guesthouse entrance.

Eiko, a Japanese traveler, agreed and said that bargain-hunting in Laos was difficult. She said when she usually shops around in other countries, she encounters a wide range of prices. But in Laos, every vendor seemed to charge the same prices. Her theory was that Laotian people don't like to compete. That's plausible, since they're so laidback.

Or maybe prices are set by the government, as Laos is run by a Communist party. Another reason is that Laos doesn't have much of a manufacturing base, so most products are imported from foreign countries. Thailand is a big supplier of goods. With the foreign tariffs, the prices for everything are higher.

Luang Prabang is one of the few cities in the region built for walking. Big cities in Asia tend to be minefields for pedestrians. Potholes, tuk-tuks, taxis, motorbikes, and crowds of locals can turn the shortest walk into the toughest obstacle course. But the city's main drag, Sisavangvong Road, is mostly for pedestrians only. The streets running along the Mekong and Nam Khan rivers are also eminently walkable.

Wat Xieng Thong

There is also better nightlife to be had. Phousi Road is home to several outdoor bars with green, leafy environments. Ironically, the hottest nightspot is the 10-pin bowling alley. Most bars close at 12 a.m. for the curfew, but the bowling alley stays open until 2 a.m.

Laos has one of the highest retentions rates for foreign expats. Once they're assigned to Laos, they never want to leave. The boss calls and asks if you want to take an assignment in war-torn Africa? Forget it!

After seeing Luang Prabang, I can see why. It's the perfect place to live the bohemian fantasy: living in an exotic land, eating organic food, helping out in community projects and socializing with friendly locals. Everywhere you can buy ethnic handicrafts and go on "ecotourism" trips. Maybe I got it wrong. Luang Prabang could be the San Francisco of Southeast Asia.

Vientiane: Southeast Asia on Silent Mode

2009-02-20T00:00:00.013+08:00

Patuxai, Laos' Arc de Triomphe

"You gotta go to Laos," backpackers kept telling me. When I asked why, it was hard for them to explain. But they assured me that the country was awesome. It reminded me of when I was in Europe, and travelers kept saying I should go to Prague. There's no one famous thing to see; the whole city itself is an attraction.

Countries acquire reputations. Cambodia has Angkor Wat, Vietnam has its war history, and Thailand has spicy food (and spicy girls) . But at the mention of "Laos," my mind was a blank. There was no preconceptions or stereotypes to fall back on. I didn't know what to expect, and that promised for an interesting experience.

Even more than that, I was looking forward to meeting up with Colin and Brynn, the two friends I missed before I moved out of Taiwan. In a pleasant surprise, they greeted me at the airport with cardboard signs! I was so happy to see them. Ken, a long-time traveler we had met in Taiwan, orchestrated our grand summit.

Reunited, it feels so good: Colin, me and Brynn at a baguette restaurant

It's the best possible way to start a trip: meeting up with friends who also love traveling, in a country that you're eager to visit. We piled into a taxi and went to the Syri 2 guesthouse, where Colin and Brynn were staying.

We were so excited to see each other, we talked really quickly to try to catch up. They filled me in on the trials and tribulations of cycling through Malaysia and Thailand, and I told them how Vietnam was a living experiment in Chaos Theory. Ken talked up how great Laos was, pointing out the delicious food and the relaxed atmosphere of the place.

When we got out of the taxi, it hit me that our taxi was the only car on the road. The street was stunningly quiet and dead empty. And this was one of the main thoroughfares! Ken laughed at my confusion and said, "That's what passes for traffic around here."

Honking horns, roaring motorbikes and ear-pounding construction are all part of Asia's soundtrack. It's like some god aimed his remote control at Laos and hit the mute button. Where was all the noise?

Vientiane is such a sleepy town, it's hard to believe it's the capital of an Asian country. It could have been a provincial town in Thailand. The language and culture of Laos have a lot in common with Thailand, except Laos feels more untouched.

Altar in Wat Ing Peng

It was one of the few places I've been to that had absolutely no foreign chain restaurants. American ones like McDonald's and Starbucks, and not even Japanese ones like Mister Donut and Yoshinoya.

I used to take it for granted that foreign restaurants have taken over the world in a way that Alexander the Great could only have dreamed of. Thanks to its French colonial past, Laos had better coffee and pastries anyway, as well as other food.

To illustrate, I had my first meal in Laos at Joma Bakery Cafe. The hardest part was deciding what to get! Everything looked delicious. In the end, I got a ham-and-cheese croissant, two large chocolate-chip cookies, and a mango smoothie. No regrets. If Joma opened up in America, it would be the coffee chain that could kill Starbucks.

Vientiane has a really perplexing dining situation. For a town of its tiny size, it shouldn't have any Western food at all. But every restaurant had baguette sandwiches and European cuisine. The French influence was much more prevalent here than in Vietnam.

Ken explained that a lot of diplomats and NGO workers operated out of Vientiane because it was the capital. As one of the poorest countries in Southeast Asia, foreign aid was a big part of Laos' economy. Laos was also a popular destination for French travelers, so the eateries cater to their tastes (read: high standards).

Similar to Vietnam, Laos has a mandatory curfew, so everything shuts down by around 11:00 p.m. to midnight. In Hanoi, police would barge into every bar at the stroke of 12 and stand around menacingly until everyone left. There were after-hours clubs, but they always appeared closed on the outside. I've heard the nightlife in Laos was even more underground, so you had to know friends who were throwing private house parties to get any action.

This had a positive effect. Laos had far fewer of the drunken dumbass foreigners you find in places like Thailand (the exception being Vang Vieng). Or if they're in Vientiane, at least they're sober most of the time. In any case, the slow pace of the country has a way of seeping into your DNA. Even tourists seemed to walk slower and talk quieter.

I really cherish being in places that don't have obvious sights. I can be free to just wander around and relax. Vientiane was perfect for this, as it had lots of great restaurants and no big-draw attractions.

Every afternoon, we would all head to one of the riverside restaurants along Fa Ngum Road. The important business was simply to lie down on pillows, sip fruit smoothies and watch the sunset. Relaxing is a lost art in the modern world, but Laos has perfected it.

Note: My beloved red Casio camera broke upon my arrival in Vientiane, so I wasn't able to take any pictures. Colin and Brynn kindly donated their photos of Laos to me. Thanks guys.

Hanoi: The Chinese Connection

2009-02-13T23:44:00.008+08:00

Quan An Ngon, my favorite restaurant in Hanoi.

For most of my time in Asia, I've lived and traveled in what I call "The Chinaverse" (Chinese universe). By this, I mean China, Hong Kong, Macau, Taiwan, Singapore, and arguably Malaysia. After visiting Hanoi, I wondered whether I should add Vietnam to the list.

As I rode the cramped "airport minibus" (really a minivan) from the airport into downtown Hanoi, I was struck by the dirty and dilapadated countryside. I saw filthy street markets, broken buildings, and swarms of motorbikes violating every rule of traffic known and unknown to man.

The last time I saw that kind of poverty, it was when I took a public bus from Shanghai to Qingpu, a squalid industrial suburb bordering the city. Vietnam was already seeming more like mainland China than any of the other places in the Chinaverse I'd been to.

Indeed, pundits like to think of Vietnam as a mini-China, or even "the next China." A hardworking, highly entrepeneurial people coupled with a government that's embracing the free market is a recipe for fast economic growth. There is talk of corporations that are developing a "China plus one" strategy, to have Vietnam as a backup supplier if things go awry in the mainland. Translated: if workers start demanding--and getting--higher wages.

Despite the economic slowdown, Hanoi seemed as busy as any other city, with lots of building going on. For me, that's lost its novelty, because it appears like half of Asia is under construction at any given moment. I got my fill of hearing the sound of drilling, welding and sawing when I lived in China.

My interest in Vietnam came about in a strange way. I didn't have a Vietnamese girlfriend, I wasn't a war-history buff, and never really got into the Vietnamese scene in Hawaii. It wasn't until my friend Thomas introduced me to Madame Jill's, a Vietnamese restaurant in Taipei, that I started down the road to Hanoi. The food was great. Like Chinese food, but less oily.

I couldn't wait to try the real thing in Hanoi. The reality was a bit disappointing: street food really lives up to its name in Vietnam. People eat on low plastic tables and sit on small plastic stools on the cracked sidewalks. Everything just seems really unsanitary, compared to street food in places like Malaysia.

Atmosphere can make a big difference in the food. Madame Jill's has a terrific ambiance, so my expectations were probably too high. When I travel to less modern areas, sometime I have to take a deep breath and remind myself that the term "developing country" means that it still isn't finished, so I need to give the place a break.

Then I heard about Quan An Ngon. The idea behind the restaurant was to hire the best street vendors to be cooks, and move the setting to a pleasant courtyard. Sounded like a winner to me.

Two Canadians, Jaime and Jaime, a couple from Toronto, joined me on my culinary quest. I happily ordered my favorite dishes. Here are a few of them:

Vietnamese fried spring rolls

Rice rolls

Fried meat buns

Stir-fried noodles with beef

All the food was amazingly good. The spring rolls were divine. They practically melted in my mouth, it was like I barely had to chew. I'm addicted to those things.

The atmosphere was also fun. The chatter of conversation and the clatter of bowls was balanced with the elegance of the polished wooden tables and a white overhead canopy. The staff were attentive and sported neo-traditional uniforms.

The other highlight of Hanoi was the Temple of Literature. While the temple itself and the surrounding grounds were nice, my favorite part was the sidewalk market just outside it. Artists and calligraphers had set up shop on the street to sell their wares.

Many of the old men were drawing Chinese characters. That and the Chinese temple nearby made me feel like I was back in Beijing. Although Vietnam did exhibit some French influence in the "tube houses" and baguettes, I couldn't shake the Chinese connection. Makes sense, since Vietnam was a French colony for about 70 years, but it was a vassal state of China for 1,000 years.

I feel like a cultural surgeon nowadays. I always try to dissect a country to find out which parts of its culture came from other countries. Every new place seems to remind me other destinations I've been to.

To end this blog post, here are more photos of local people:

Streetside barbershop

Having a chat at Hoan Kiem Lake

Old woman watches Hanoi life go by

Betting on Macau

2009-01-15T22:40:00.014+08:00

"Bigger than Vegas" is what I kept reading about Macau, one of the few places in Asia that has legalized gambling. A lesser-known fact is that it's also where Chinese officials gamble away public money.

A former Portuguese colony, what drew me to Macau was its blend of Latin and Chinese influences. Asian countries can often be stereotyped as homogeneous, inward-looking societies. In reality, there are many nations that reflect a mix of Western and Asian cultures. Hong Kong is the London of the region and the Philippines has a strong Latin feel due to its past colonization by Spain. Globalization is simply a new name for an old trend.

I was in Hong Kong applying for visas. Most of the countries I planned to visit will issue visas on arrival, but not all of them. While I was waiting to get my passport back, I went sightseeing with fellow travelers I met at my hostel, Yes Inn.

In January, it seemed like there were a lot of travelers passing through Hong Kong from Australia. Half the travelers I met were exchange students or backpackers doing a working holiday "down under."

Robert was a German going back to his country after doing a working holiday in Australia. Josh was an Australian traveler from Melbourne heading home after backpacking through Europe.

Taking the MTR back to the hostel.

Macau is a popular day trip from Hong Kong. The ferry terminal near MTR Sheung Wan station runs boats there all day long. You can take a TurboJet boat there in about 1 hour.

The water was a bit rough as we came out of the harbor, so I was worried it would be choppy the whole way and I'd get seasick. Luckily, the ride smoothed out later.

Our first stop was the Ruins of St. Paul. Only the front facade of the cathedral remains. There are metal stairs behind it that allow visitors to climb up to the top.

Afterward, we went on a walk through the old town of Macau. Portuguese-style houses filled the landscape. Every organization, from banks to tourism offices, got its fair share of arches and pillars.

Along the street, restaurants and snack stalls clamored for business. Women on the street gave out free samples of food, such as dried glazed pork and cookies. My favorite treat I bought was an egg tart, which I've seen all over Asia. But Macau is the place to get it.

Next, we hit up some casinos. The Casino Lisboa is one of the oldest on the island. It definitely seemed old, because it was much smaller and simpler than the glittering palaces I'd seen in Las Vegas.

Traveler after traveler at the hostel told me I had to visit the The Venetian, because that one was the biggest and the nicest in Macau. They were right.

Josh and Robert were more into taking risks than I was, playing roulette and the slot machines. Although once, Robert got too eager and hit the "Max Bet" button. So they were only able to get one spin on that machine. They had to exchange more money for chips to keep gambling.

As an economics major, Josh was able to calculate the odds and quit playing a game while he was still ahead. He explained to me that each time he won at roulette, the chances of winning again drop significantly.

In the past, a pretty girl once asked me whether I gambled. I told her, "I don't gamble with money. I only gamble with my life." What gets me excited is not money, but thinking about what exotic place I'll live in next. Taking a chance on the roulette of life is the ultimate high.

Kicking back in Kuala Lumpur

2008-09-08T22:08:00.029+08:00

The Petronas Towers

I’ve never been as confused as when I was in Kuala Lumpur (everyone calls it “KL”). Every place I visited and every person I saw reminded me of other countries. I don’t think I can definitively say what makes something “Malaysian.”

Over and over again, I heard how multicultural Malaysia was. Believe the hype. Chinese, Indians, and of course Malaysians, this country has it all. Check out the photos:

I love taking photos of locals, so KL was people-watching heaven for me. Each of those shots could have been taken in a different country, Malaysia is that diverse. A lot of people wear traditional clothing, especially the Muslim women with their headscarves. The color and variety of ethnic fashions were amazing. Compared to Malaysians, most Westerners in Asia look like they’re wearing the same uniform. A case in point:

A bunch of Western tourists in KL

I'm used to seeing Buddhism in Japan, China and Taiwan, so seeing open worship of Islam was an eye-opener. Headscarves and long robes were a far cry from the short skirts and revealing outfits I've seen on women in other Asian countries. The most conservative women wore black abayas and their faces would be covered by a niqab. The only visible part of them were their eyes. KL was the first place I've been that felt as much Middle Eastern as it was Asian.

The Chinese women were a stark contrast. Their clothes were more modern and trendy, similar to what I've seen in Hong Kong and Taipei.

One of the most fun things about travel is finding out what things are the same and different compared to your home country. It's like witnessing globalization in action. One of my favorite pictures from this trip is the one I took of three Muslim guys in white robes sitting on a step. They're talking while holding food from McDonald's. Another example was when I would see Indian women with bright saris and bindis, yet they'd be chatting away on cell phones.

The city’s architecture also evoked images of other metropolises. The dirty streets and crumbling buildings were so Manila. But the massive banks and gleaming shopping centers could have been transplanted from Hong Kong. KL has a brand new light rail and subway, but they aren’t integrated well. It takes a long time to transfer between lines. Modern but not efficient, that’s totally Bangkok. The mosques and Islamic towers could have come from Dubai.

KL made me realize how residents in Taipei are mostly middle class. There was a much more blatant gap between rich and poor in Malaysia. Ethnic Malays have the government positions and the political power, while the Chinese control the economy and private business. This situation leaves the Indians feeling increasingly bitter, from what I’ve read.

Ethnic Malay people reminded me of Filipinos: cheerful, friendly, relaxed and able to speak English. The difference was that the English spoken by Malays sounded more like their neighbors, the Singaporeans.

While KL was multicultural, I didn’t get the feeling that the races all existed in harmony. It wasn’t the Honolulu of Southeast Asia. Everyone seemed to stick to their clique. The government also seems to be creeping toward a Muslim-style theocracy, despite the fact that the Malaysian constitution guarantees freedom of religion.

Moving on to a lighter topic, I’ve become a bad tourist lately. I’m really lazy about doing sightseeing nowadays. I usually visit one or two of the most famous sights, then quit. Now I'm simply happy to wander around, take photos of local life and hang out with other travelers (or local friends, if I'm that lucky).

I’ve become a lot less militant about having to see every attraction listed in the guidebook. This is because I can only take short trips these days, so my main goal is to relax. When I do extended trips, I try to see more sights.

When it comes to food, Malaysian cuisine is fantastic! I first had chicken satay when I visited Singapore in 2006, and I’ve been hankering for it ever since. It’s a classic dish, so I was really looking forward to eating it again. Luckily, Jalan Alor, one of the most famous food streets in KL, was close to my hostel.

In Taipei, it’s hard to find places where you can eat al fresco under a canopy. A refreshing aspect about dining in KL is that a lot of places have outdoor seating. Jalan Alor was no exception. It reminded me of the hawker centers in Singapore, where the food mattered more than the décor. Most restaurants in hawker centers only had basic furnishings: folding tables, plastic chairs and packs of tissues instead of real napkins.

Scenes from Jalan Alor food street

Here’s what I had for dinner my first night:

Chicken satay with peanut sauce, sweet and sour chicken, and a mango smoothie.

This grand feast was mine for a mere 19.50 ringgits, about US$5.60. I also became a mango addict while I was in KL. I’d get mango smoothies with my meals, and buy cartons of mango juice at a supermarket before going back to my hostel every night. Sipping fruit drinks reminded me of being home in Hawaii.

My good Canadian friend Colin said that the hostels in Malaysia were magnificent. If the one I stayed at in KL was representative, then I'd happily backpack through the rest of the country. It's called The Haven Guesthouse. This hostel had a colorful, jungle lodge atmosphere. While I stayed there I met Maarten and Lize, a Dutch brother and sister. They had come up to KL after traveling through Indonesia.

They were refreshing, since I've been pretty down on Westerners in Asia lately. Maarten and Lize are the type of people I hoped to meet when I first started traveling: fun, worldly yet unpretentious, and great conversation partners. Their striking good looks were just a bonus.

Inside Information

Getting into town

By air: This depends on which airport you land in. If you're landing at Kuala Lumpur International Airport (KLIA), you can take the the KLIA Ekspres train into the city. RM35 one-way, 28 minutes.

Air Asia flights land at the Low Cost Carrier Terminal (LCCT). You can take Air Asia's Sky Bus to KL Sentral Station. RM9, about 1 hour to 1 hour 30 minutes. From KL Sentral, you can get a prepaid taxi or cross the street to Tun Sambanthan monorail station.

By bus: The main spot is Puduraya Bus station. In my experience, bus drivers often drop you off on the road near the station, not in the station itself. It's an unpleasant walk to the station, with a corrugated metal wall on your left and buses on your right belching exhaust in your face.

The good news is that Puduraya Bus Station is connected to Plaza Rakyat LRT station. The bad news is that it's not marked with signs. Look between the aisles of the bus-company counters until you see an exit (Malay: "keluar") on the other side. There is a bright red Air Asia hotel reservation counter next to the exit for the LRT, "Masuk entrance pintu 5."

Walk out of the exit, and you should see a walkway covered with metal sheeting. Head left and up the stairs. Follow the path to the red-and-blue Plaza Rakyat LRT station.

Where to stay

Bedz KL is my favorite place to stay. The hostel has everything a backpacker wants: a big comfy common area with TV, excellent rain-style shower stalls and friendly staff. It's in the Golden Triangle, a great area for nightlife and shopping. The hostel is on Changkat Bukit Bintang, where there are many trendy bars. Also nearby is Jalan Alor, which has tasty street food.

Sadly, The Haven Guesthouse, which was mentioned in my story, has since gone out of business.

Where to eat

Jalan Alor is the hotspot for local food. Pavilion Mall has a great food court in its basement. KL is full of quality eateries everywhere. Head to ethnic neighborhoods like Little India and Chinatown.

The Starhill Gallery mall has an amazing array of designer restaurants in its basement dining area.

First Cup Cafe, an outdoor restaurant in front of BB Plaza mall, has awesome breakfast food. Their pancakes are some of the best I've had in Southeast Asia.

Where to party

Asian Heritage Row has plenty of clubs and bars. Changkat Bukit Bintang also has a good selection of cool hangouts. Bangsar is another hotspot, but it's bit further out of town. For the latest word, check out the nightlife magazine KLue.

Hot Tips

Going to the cinema is cheap in KL! Usually around RM11 (US$3). Golden Screen Cinemas is one of the biggest theater chains. The nicest cinemas are in Pavilion Mall, Suria KLCC Mall, and Berjaya Times Square.

Miss Western fast food, but tired of the usual McDonald's? Head to Berjaya Times Square Mall, which has restaurant chains that are hard to find elsewhere in Asia: Krispy Kreme Donut, Papa John's Pizza and Wendy's are some of the rarities to be found there. There's also a huge branch of Borders bookstore there. It's probably my favorite mall in Southeast Asia.

For electronics, head over to Plaza Low Yat, a multi-story monument to gadgetry.

Getting out

Bus: Most buses leave from Puduraya Bus Station, a hot, dirty, and chaotic place. Touts will pounce on you and try to steer you to their bus company.

You can get to Puduraya by taking the LRT train to Plaza Rakyat station. Even better, there are two bus counters in the station. You can buy your bus ticket there in peace, without the hassle of touts. But you'll still have to board your bus at Puduraya.

Transnational Express is the government-run bus company, and has reasonable prices and comfortable buses. They have a bus counter in Plaza Rakyat LRT station, so you can buy your ticket there instead of the Transnational booth in Puduraya, which usually has long lines of customers. Konsortium Express Bus is a sister company of Transnational, with plusher buses.

For full details of buses around the country, check out Journey Malaysia.

This pen for hire

2008-08-04T10:38:00.002+08:00

For those of you who think, "I really like reading Marcus' blog, but I wish he'd write more often," I have good news.

I recently joined the writing team at Vagablogging.net, a blog run by travel writer Rolf Potts. It was Potts' book, Vagabonding: An Uncommon Guide to the Art of Long-Term Travel, that inspired me to become an expat in the first place. It's a big honor to get to work with one of my role models.

"Vagabonding" was a life-changing book for me, and I've been recommending it to friends ever since I first read it back in 2005. The book has the perfect mix of inspirational writing and practical advice.

I'll be writing blog posts once a week, talking about different aspects of travel and living abroad. They'll go live on Fridays at midnight, as Thursday changes over to Friday. My first post is on the website now. It's the one I sent in that helped me get the job.

My posts on Vagablogging will be shorter, about 200-500 words. This should come as a relief to some of my friends, who are too busy to slog through the marathon posts on my own blog!

Thanks to all my friends for their unflagging support. It's by honing my travel-writing skills on this blog that I was able to land this writing job.

Here is the official announcement:

August 1, 2008

Vagablogging welcomes six new writers!

Our most recent "call for writers" elicited dozens of excellent submissions. But in the end, there could be only six. Here's some background info about our six new Vagabloggers:

Graham Reid

here

Celine Roque

pimpyourwork.com

Bluefox808

Bluefox808 Adventures

Claire Litton

Scott Gilbertson

Vagabonding

luxagraf.net

Aly Young

Another Wandering Soul

Welcome aboard, new Vagabloggers!

Posted by Aaron Hotfelder