South East Asia (October to November)
Phuket sunset
Part 4 - Singapore
Asia ... wow! Very hot, very humid, very noisy, oh so colourful and very exciting. We stepped off the plane in Singapore at 7am although to us, still on African time after a flight with very little sleep, it feels like midnight. We loaded ourselves up with our packs: Andy, Amy and me with our packs on our backs and our day packs on our fronts; Andy lugging the 70litre suitcase that we bought to accommodate all the extra stuff we’ve accumulated (books, nappies, soft towels borrowed from hotels, food, cutlery acquired from various establishments, etc), and me pushing Holly in the stroller. “OK”, we rallied,” we can do this”, and we stepped out and made our way through the airport to the MRT (Singapore’s metro system) to find our train. Bad timing! We hit the morning commuter traffic and the trains are packed. We stand and sweat, and ache, and mutter many bad words under our breath, for 30 minutes, as hordes of Singaporeans come and go, bustling and jostling on and off the trains as we pass stop after stop.
Just as I am about to suffer a catastrophic humour failure, we arrive at our stop. My relief at getting off the train is short lived, as we realise that had been the ‘easy’ leg of the journey. The quick 15 minute walk from the station to our hostel is all well and good, unless you are lugging several backpacks and children and experiencing enforced exercise in 37 degrees heat and 95% relative humidity. Air is in very short supply and it doesn’t take long for our eyes to start to bulge from their sockets and moods to become less than sunny. Amy is an absolute trooper and just gets on with it, striding ahead as Andy and I take it in turns to buckle over, gasping like fish out of water. Still, we make it and enjoy a few days wandering around Singapore.
We are now relaxing in a positively luxurious (by our standards) hotel next to Karon beach in Phuket for next to nothing. We’ve had some very scrumptious Thai meals (mostly from street vendors) and many a swim in the very lovely pool. Under Andy’s instruction, Amy has perfected her front crawl and speed turn and is working on her butterfly stroke. Holly is becoming semi-feral. She rarely wears shoes, and has taken to eating her rice with her fingers. I’m pleased to report she does appear to be developing her English language skills though, and not some hybrid African, Asian, animal fusion. She can count to 7, from 3. We’re still working on 1 and 2. She has also, once again, become nocturnal due to jet lag and, as I type, is hanging off the curtains singing The Wheels on the Bus. Oh the joys of bumming around the world with young children. We’ve booked on a boat on Wednesday to take us to Koh Phi Phi (where The Beach was filmed) where we plan to hang out for a couple of weeks, then our vague plan is to head up to Chiang Mai via Bangkok, then back down south on the sleeper train. Then who knows, but we’ll keep you updated.
Asia ... wow! Very hot, very humid, very noisy, oh so colourful and very exciting. We stepped off the plane in Singapore at 7am although to us, still on African time after a flight with very little sleep, it feels like midnight. We loaded ourselves up with our packs: Andy, Amy and me with our packs on our backs and our day packs on our fronts; Andy lugging the 70litre suitcase that we bought to accommodate all the extra stuff we’ve accumulated (books, nappies, soft towels borrowed from hotels, food, cutlery acquired from various establishments, etc), and me pushing Holly in the stroller. “OK”, we rallied,” we can do this”, and we stepped out and made our way through the airport to the MRT (Singapore’s metro system) to find our train. Bad timing! We hit the morning commuter traffic and the trains are packed. We stand and sweat, and ache, and mutter many bad words under our breath, for 30 minutes, as hordes of Singaporeans come and go, bustling and jostling on and off the trains as we pass stop after stop.
Just as I am about to suffer a catastrophic humour failure, we arrive at our stop. My relief at getting off the train is short lived, as we realise that had been the ‘easy’ leg of the journey. The quick 15 minute walk from the station to our hostel is all well and good, unless you are lugging several backpacks and children and experiencing enforced exercise in 37 degrees heat and 95% relative humidity. Air is in very short supply and it doesn’t take long for our eyes to start to bulge from their sockets and moods to become less than sunny. Amy is an absolute trooper and just gets on with it, striding ahead as Andy and I take it in turns to buckle over, gasping like fish out of water. Still, we make it and enjoy a few days wandering around Singapore.
We are now relaxing in a positively luxurious (by our standards) hotel next to Karon beach in Phuket for next to nothing. We’ve had some very scrumptious Thai meals (mostly from street vendors) and many a swim in the very lovely pool. Under Andy’s instruction, Amy has perfected her front crawl and speed turn and is working on her butterfly stroke. Holly is becoming semi-feral. She rarely wears shoes, and has taken to eating her rice with her fingers. I’m pleased to report she does appear to be developing her English language skills though, and not some hybrid African, Asian, animal fusion. She can count to 7, from 3. We’re still working on 1 and 2. She has also, once again, become nocturnal due to jet lag and, as I type, is hanging off the curtains singing The Wheels on the Bus. Oh the joys of bumming around the world with young children. We’ve booked on a boat on Wednesday to take us to Koh Phi Phi (where The Beach was filmed) where we plan to hang out for a couple of weeks, then our vague plan is to head up to Chiang Mai via Bangkok, then back down south on the sleeper train. Then who knows, but we’ll keep you updated.
The brochure view of Koh Phi Phi
Part 5 - Chiang Mai
Amid the myriad offerings for sale at the markets and bazaars, rose tinted glasses are not to be found, and so with the initial shine having worn off my appraisal of Thailand is honest if potentially controversial. Stunning and diverse were the two words I settled on to describe South Africa (oh, beautiful, soul soothing Africa). Grimly fascinating and shite are the words currently in the running for Thailand. When you imagine Thailand you may think of powdery white beaches, clear waters and magnificent temples. These exist but it is not the whole story, especially when travelling with small people on a tight budget. The brochures are crafty; the photographs cleverly shot.
As sophisticated, cosmopolitan and clean (albeit lacking deep soul) as Singapore is, Thailand is in equal measures sleazy, grubby and unkempt. Thailand’s economy depends largely on the sex trade, evidence of which is ubiquitous. OK, that’s a lie (exports comprise the bulk of GDP), but it is prolific! In the hotels (particularly at breakfast), in restaurants, in airports, and on the streets; you will see white men sporting at least two of the attributes of fat, old and ugly, accompanied by a young attractive Thai girl hired as girlfriend for the duration of their stay. If Andy and I venture out together we are inundated with offers of carriage from taxi and tuk tuk drivers. If Andy goes out alone he is inundated with offers of ‘company’. Every other shop, from massage outlets to karaoke bars, provides added extras. Thailand’s tourism serves a particular demographic and, at least whilst travelling as a family, we are not it.
We have, in our first couple of weeks in Thailand, experienced the holiday resort of Phuket, the alleged island paradise of Koh Phi Phi, the buzz of Bangkok and the cultural heart of Chiang Mai, where we are currently. The noise - of air conditioning, fans, traffic, people, animals, and building work - is incessant day and night. The heat and humidity is a tad beyond pleasant, whilst wrangling small people. The streets and shops, temples and markets are swarming with people hustling and bustling. We’re just not city folk. Whilst I enjoy the buzz of a city for a short amount of time, we generally like our spaces wide open, our air clean, and our soundtrack more natural; and so we are feeling a little claustrophobic.
Phuket was like any over-touristy seaside resort, but with added humidity and sleaze. Koh Phi Phi was So Poo Poo. We went to a tropical paradise island by mistake! The journey there was wonderful; a boat ride through the Andaman Sea, a national marine park area with gorgeous verdant islands rising from the turquoise waters, some of them not much more than rocky outcrops. Phi Phi is beautiful on approach, with its white powdery beaches and pretty longtail boats lined up. On arrival we took a longtail boat from the pier to Long Beach, the quieter end of the island. Getting all of us plus packs plus buggy (with baby still in it) into the boat was an achievement in itself … we’ve got this backpacking with kids thing down!
Amid the myriad offerings for sale at the markets and bazaars, rose tinted glasses are not to be found, and so with the initial shine having worn off my appraisal of Thailand is honest if potentially controversial. Stunning and diverse were the two words I settled on to describe South Africa (oh, beautiful, soul soothing Africa). Grimly fascinating and shite are the words currently in the running for Thailand. When you imagine Thailand you may think of powdery white beaches, clear waters and magnificent temples. These exist but it is not the whole story, especially when travelling with small people on a tight budget. The brochures are crafty; the photographs cleverly shot.
As sophisticated, cosmopolitan and clean (albeit lacking deep soul) as Singapore is, Thailand is in equal measures sleazy, grubby and unkempt. Thailand’s economy depends largely on the sex trade, evidence of which is ubiquitous. OK, that’s a lie (exports comprise the bulk of GDP), but it is prolific! In the hotels (particularly at breakfast), in restaurants, in airports, and on the streets; you will see white men sporting at least two of the attributes of fat, old and ugly, accompanied by a young attractive Thai girl hired as girlfriend for the duration of their stay. If Andy and I venture out together we are inundated with offers of carriage from taxi and tuk tuk drivers. If Andy goes out alone he is inundated with offers of ‘company’. Every other shop, from massage outlets to karaoke bars, provides added extras. Thailand’s tourism serves a particular demographic and, at least whilst travelling as a family, we are not it.
We have, in our first couple of weeks in Thailand, experienced the holiday resort of Phuket, the alleged island paradise of Koh Phi Phi, the buzz of Bangkok and the cultural heart of Chiang Mai, where we are currently. The noise - of air conditioning, fans, traffic, people, animals, and building work - is incessant day and night. The heat and humidity is a tad beyond pleasant, whilst wrangling small people. The streets and shops, temples and markets are swarming with people hustling and bustling. We’re just not city folk. Whilst I enjoy the buzz of a city for a short amount of time, we generally like our spaces wide open, our air clean, and our soundtrack more natural; and so we are feeling a little claustrophobic.
Phuket was like any over-touristy seaside resort, but with added humidity and sleaze. Koh Phi Phi was So Poo Poo. We went to a tropical paradise island by mistake! The journey there was wonderful; a boat ride through the Andaman Sea, a national marine park area with gorgeous verdant islands rising from the turquoise waters, some of them not much more than rocky outcrops. Phi Phi is beautiful on approach, with its white powdery beaches and pretty longtail boats lined up. On arrival we took a longtail boat from the pier to Long Beach, the quieter end of the island. Getting all of us plus packs plus buggy (with baby still in it) into the boat was an achievement in itself … we’ve got this backpacking with kids thing down!
Tsunami effects
While Amy, Holly and I waited by the beach with all the packs and balloon animals that we’d acquired on the boat, Andy went in search of affordable accommodation. The expensive resorts being beyond our budget, so he settled on a couple of ‘beach bungalows’ for £10 a night each. A face plant in the sand, inches short of the water and the rudder of a longtail – the weight of the pack coupled with an enthusiastic leap off a wall onto the sloping beach had but one destined outcome for Andy, not even a comedy stumble with arms rotating wildly could stop his fall – and a short walk later we confronted our accommodation. I’m quite happy to rough it, I really am! But, feeling a bit travel weary, and with the smalls in tow, I found my inner fussy person, and she found our bungalows were lacking! Set way back from the beach, next to the toilets amidst piles of rubble and burning rubbish, they were not much bigger than the double bed that was in them. The bathroom contained a toilet with bucket to flush it with, a shower attachment that provided a trickle of cold water and various bugs. Not so much a problem as the generous gaps around the windows and door for the bugs to get in, floorboards giving way and a fan which worked in the short interim periods between the electricity failures. The place was mosquito hell. Amy, having survived a bluebottle jellyfish sting and a water scorpion sting in Africa, suffered over 100 bites that night. She had 17 bites on her face alone! Not my favourite place to so far.
The island, once heavenly I’m sure, suffered as a result of over tourism since the filming of The Beach, and the devastation of the tsunami in 2004. The pictures of Ao Maya (THE Beach) look idyllic but the reality is that each day it is overcrowded with tourist boats. The main island has been rebuilt to an extent but is still riddled with rubbish piles and tatty buildings. Badly hidden between bungalows and down alleyways were piles of rubble, swept aside but not removed. The island has no road infrastructure so the beaches are lined with longtail boats that come and go noisily all day, leaving oily deposits in the sea. The coral is dead, although I did see a family of clown fish in their anemone which was a highlight! It is a shame. And we have yet to find our utopian island paradise, but I’m sure we will.
Everywhere we’ve been, the buildings and pavements are badly maintained, which has it’s charm of course but makes buggy driving a challenge. Really, we should be getting around by tuk tuk but that is not the way we like to do things. We like to walk. We like to pound the streets and amble for miles and get in amongst it. And so we have. We walked through the ancient walled city of Chiang Mai, the city that everyone in Thailand has told us is beautiful. We stumbled (almost literally) across the covered market, packed with stalls selling everything from paper lanterns, to live squid, to vegetables to shoes; where vendors bring their kids, dogs and pet rats to work. I would have liked to have walked through the meat market out of curiosity but my gag reflex was already working overtime and I was moments from vomiting on some unsuspecting soul, so we left quickly. The streets and markets abound with scabby cats and mangy dogs with various bits missing, usually ears or tails; birds caged with just a few inches of space, flies crawling all over the food in street cafes, squished cockroaches on the pavements and dead rats on temple doorsteps.
The island, once heavenly I’m sure, suffered as a result of over tourism since the filming of The Beach, and the devastation of the tsunami in 2004. The pictures of Ao Maya (THE Beach) look idyllic but the reality is that each day it is overcrowded with tourist boats. The main island has been rebuilt to an extent but is still riddled with rubbish piles and tatty buildings. Badly hidden between bungalows and down alleyways were piles of rubble, swept aside but not removed. The island has no road infrastructure so the beaches are lined with longtail boats that come and go noisily all day, leaving oily deposits in the sea. The coral is dead, although I did see a family of clown fish in their anemone which was a highlight! It is a shame. And we have yet to find our utopian island paradise, but I’m sure we will.
Everywhere we’ve been, the buildings and pavements are badly maintained, which has it’s charm of course but makes buggy driving a challenge. Really, we should be getting around by tuk tuk but that is not the way we like to do things. We like to walk. We like to pound the streets and amble for miles and get in amongst it. And so we have. We walked through the ancient walled city of Chiang Mai, the city that everyone in Thailand has told us is beautiful. We stumbled (almost literally) across the covered market, packed with stalls selling everything from paper lanterns, to live squid, to vegetables to shoes; where vendors bring their kids, dogs and pet rats to work. I would have liked to have walked through the meat market out of curiosity but my gag reflex was already working overtime and I was moments from vomiting on some unsuspecting soul, so we left quickly. The streets and markets abound with scabby cats and mangy dogs with various bits missing, usually ears or tails; birds caged with just a few inches of space, flies crawling all over the food in street cafes, squished cockroaches on the pavements and dead rats on temple doorsteps.
Golden Buddha, Bangkok
It is of great intrigue to me that a nation that is 90% Buddhist has such seeming disregard for its animals. “We won’t kill you because we can’t, according to our Buddhist principals, but we’ll let you starve and scratch yourself to death with your mange.” It screams hypocrisy but then that is a trait I believe true of most religions. That said, having a basic knowledge of Buddhism, as religions go it is a sensible one to my mind. Technically a set of teachings that promotes not being an arsehole. But enough of religion though before I climb too high on my soap box and alienate, offend or outrage.
On the whole, Thailand does not smell nice. Every few yards one’s nasal passage is assaulted with a pungent blend of poo, fish and vomit. Quite rancid. Thick jumbles of electrical wires line each street, bunched up precariously at each pole that loosely supports them. Tuk tuks and taxis pass in their hundreds and each one toots at us to avail ourselves of their kamikaze services. And we cannot go more than a few yards without a gaggle of Thai people putting their hands all over Holly’s face. The Thai people are incredibly friendly and we like that, but their fascination with our blond haired, blue eyed baby has lost its initial charm.
That damning review aside, we are glad we’ve experienced Thailand. It is fascinating! The temples in Bangkok were awe inspiring, the Thai food is amazing, the Chiang Mai night bazaar is great fun and we’ve met some lovely people. But now we’re ready for our journey to enter a new phase, so on Monday we’re taking the night train from Chiang Mai to Arau in Malaysia where we’ll get a boat to Langkawi. As we resume our tour of the colonies we have high hopes for Malaysia, if we survive two nights on a train with Holly that is!
On the whole, Thailand does not smell nice. Every few yards one’s nasal passage is assaulted with a pungent blend of poo, fish and vomit. Quite rancid. Thick jumbles of electrical wires line each street, bunched up precariously at each pole that loosely supports them. Tuk tuks and taxis pass in their hundreds and each one toots at us to avail ourselves of their kamikaze services. And we cannot go more than a few yards without a gaggle of Thai people putting their hands all over Holly’s face. The Thai people are incredibly friendly and we like that, but their fascination with our blond haired, blue eyed baby has lost its initial charm.
That damning review aside, we are glad we’ve experienced Thailand. It is fascinating! The temples in Bangkok were awe inspiring, the Thai food is amazing, the Chiang Mai night bazaar is great fun and we’ve met some lovely people. But now we’re ready for our journey to enter a new phase, so on Monday we’re taking the night train from Chiang Mai to Arau in Malaysia where we’ll get a boat to Langkawi. As we resume our tour of the colonies we have high hopes for Malaysia, if we survive two nights on a train with Holly that is!
Boat to Langkawi
Part 6 - Malaysia
I am losing my grip on socially acceptable etiquette. I no longer know whether I should be eating with a knife and fork, a fork and spoon, chopsticks or my fingers. Should I be eating with my right hand, wiping my bum with my left hand and picking my nose with my right thumb, whilst orchestrating my chopsticks with my third and fourth toes? Should I be eating with my mouth closed as always taught, or masticate open-mouthed to show the world my appreciation, along with my breakfast? Should I avoid blowing my nose at the table or clear my throat and spit a glob of phlegm on the floor at every opportunity? And where’s the bacon? Enough of these chicken sausages already!
Malaysia was at first glance much cleaner and better maintained than Thailand, and the people as friendly and slightly less likely to poke your baby’s face, though not much. Langkawi is a gorgeous island, covered with rainforest and trimmed with beautiful beaches. Sadly, travelling hippies that we are, we could not afford to stay there for long. We celebrated Andy’s birthday with a hermit crab race, using Amy’s collection of hermit crabs found on the beach and kept in a Tupperware pot. It proved exciting for the first few seconds when my crab, Hermione, made an exceptional start and made it within centimetres of the edge of the table. Then all activity ceased and we sat there for a good half hour egging on our crabs until our interest expired and we left Andy to feed our clawed friends with a tin of Spam.
After several days on Langkawi we took a 3 hour boat trip to Penang, subjected for the entirety to spectacularly awful and very loud martial arts movies. We explored Georgetown, named after George III, and another UNESCO world heritage site to add to my collection. The locals are extremely proud of this status. It means that the beautiful old buildings cannot be destroyed, in order to preserve the historical and cultural heritage of the town. It also seems to mean that the buildings are therefore left to rot, sprout foliage and fall down. For the moment this gives them an ethereal quality, evoking a romantic notion of a bygone era. Hopefully they won’t completely disintegrate. We also visited the famous ‘snake temple’ where ‘venomous pit vipers lay coiled around the alters, candles and statues of Buddha’. Utter bollocks! The vipers are so inert that it took us some minutes of gentle prodding and alter wiggling before our initial conviction that the snakes were fake was overturned. They are indeed live pit vipers (when given a gentle wiggle they tighten their tails ever so slightly to grip on to their branch), but they must be very heavily doped to be so completely inactive. I later read that they have had their venom removed. Furthermore, they do not lay coiled around all the temple artefacts in a mysterious fashion, but rather are carefully arranged around handmade bamboo structures that are placed around the temple. In the back room there is a man with a very large python that he keeps in a very small tank lined with one sheet of newspaper and pierced with a few holes, where he feeds it KFC and Tiger beer (I shit you not); who charges you a tidy sum to have your photo taken with said snake. He experienced my disapproval and we left.
I am losing my grip on socially acceptable etiquette. I no longer know whether I should be eating with a knife and fork, a fork and spoon, chopsticks or my fingers. Should I be eating with my right hand, wiping my bum with my left hand and picking my nose with my right thumb, whilst orchestrating my chopsticks with my third and fourth toes? Should I be eating with my mouth closed as always taught, or masticate open-mouthed to show the world my appreciation, along with my breakfast? Should I avoid blowing my nose at the table or clear my throat and spit a glob of phlegm on the floor at every opportunity? And where’s the bacon? Enough of these chicken sausages already!
Malaysia was at first glance much cleaner and better maintained than Thailand, and the people as friendly and slightly less likely to poke your baby’s face, though not much. Langkawi is a gorgeous island, covered with rainforest and trimmed with beautiful beaches. Sadly, travelling hippies that we are, we could not afford to stay there for long. We celebrated Andy’s birthday with a hermit crab race, using Amy’s collection of hermit crabs found on the beach and kept in a Tupperware pot. It proved exciting for the first few seconds when my crab, Hermione, made an exceptional start and made it within centimetres of the edge of the table. Then all activity ceased and we sat there for a good half hour egging on our crabs until our interest expired and we left Andy to feed our clawed friends with a tin of Spam.
After several days on Langkawi we took a 3 hour boat trip to Penang, subjected for the entirety to spectacularly awful and very loud martial arts movies. We explored Georgetown, named after George III, and another UNESCO world heritage site to add to my collection. The locals are extremely proud of this status. It means that the beautiful old buildings cannot be destroyed, in order to preserve the historical and cultural heritage of the town. It also seems to mean that the buildings are therefore left to rot, sprout foliage and fall down. For the moment this gives them an ethereal quality, evoking a romantic notion of a bygone era. Hopefully they won’t completely disintegrate. We also visited the famous ‘snake temple’ where ‘venomous pit vipers lay coiled around the alters, candles and statues of Buddha’. Utter bollocks! The vipers are so inert that it took us some minutes of gentle prodding and alter wiggling before our initial conviction that the snakes were fake was overturned. They are indeed live pit vipers (when given a gentle wiggle they tighten their tails ever so slightly to grip on to their branch), but they must be very heavily doped to be so completely inactive. I later read that they have had their venom removed. Furthermore, they do not lay coiled around all the temple artefacts in a mysterious fashion, but rather are carefully arranged around handmade bamboo structures that are placed around the temple. In the back room there is a man with a very large python that he keeps in a very small tank lined with one sheet of newspaper and pierced with a few holes, where he feeds it KFC and Tiger beer (I shit you not); who charges you a tidy sum to have your photo taken with said snake. He experienced my disapproval and we left.
(Non) Venomous pit viper
This was not our first glimpse in the horrors of animal tourism. In Chiang Mai we visited the elephant training camp, where retired elephants once used in the logging trade live out their autumn years giving tourists rides and painting pictures. Apparently they are well cared for and have a lovely life here, and all proceeds go towards elephant conservation but my conscience was piqued and I am suspicious. We also visited a hill tribe village and yet another temple on top a hill, all very lovely, but not before stopping at the Monkey School. At the pay kiosk were two baby monkeys in a small, rusty cage. Just around the corner were several gibbons in a slightly bigger cage with a few ropes and a wet floor. Then we were taken through to the theatre to see the ‘show’. As we passed through the door we were confronted with several rectangle concrete areas roped off, each containing four monkeys tied to a post by six inches of chain secured around their necks. The monkey nearest us was spinning in circles biting its own leg. The floor was swimming in the monkeys’ own pee. Already horrified, we went around to the stage, where the show began. The ‘trainer’ led a reluctant monkey on a chain into the centre of the floor, where he proceeded to throw a coconut across the floor for the monkey to slide over to and catch. It was the most disgusting display of animal exploitation I have ever had the misfortune to witness and that is the point at which I walked out; unleashing an angry tirade at the cashier as I went, my family in hot pursuit.
Every 30 minutes on Asian television they run adverts with the slogan ‘When the buying stops, the killing can too.’ They focus on the plight of the animals that are hunted illegally for their body parts which are used in food and traditional Asian medicines, such as tigers, sharks, and sun bears (who are farmed for their bile, by means of a surgically implanted tube that allows the farmers to ‘milk’ them directly of their bile!) It is of some comfort that the environmental authorities are making some efforts to raise awareness of the issues, but also highlighted to us just how bad a problem it is. We visited Singapore Zoo yesterday, which is an exceptional ‘open’ zoo with a successful breeding programme and a very heavy focus on conservation. They do a lot of good work I’m sure, but seeing a lone polar bear laying listlessly in its enclosure in a tropical climate left me feeling incredibly sad. Asia is one of the world’s biggest contributors to the extinction of our endangered animals and to the destruction of our environment. We have spent a month immersed in the evidence of this and it has intensified our sense of ecological duty. Do me a favour, keep up your recycling and don’t forget to switch things off when you’re not using them. Every little thing helps.
Every 30 minutes on Asian television they run adverts with the slogan ‘When the buying stops, the killing can too.’ They focus on the plight of the animals that are hunted illegally for their body parts which are used in food and traditional Asian medicines, such as tigers, sharks, and sun bears (who are farmed for their bile, by means of a surgically implanted tube that allows the farmers to ‘milk’ them directly of their bile!) It is of some comfort that the environmental authorities are making some efforts to raise awareness of the issues, but also highlighted to us just how bad a problem it is. We visited Singapore Zoo yesterday, which is an exceptional ‘open’ zoo with a successful breeding programme and a very heavy focus on conservation. They do a lot of good work I’m sure, but seeing a lone polar bear laying listlessly in its enclosure in a tropical climate left me feeling incredibly sad. Asia is one of the world’s biggest contributors to the extinction of our endangered animals and to the destruction of our environment. We have spent a month immersed in the evidence of this and it has intensified our sense of ecological duty. Do me a favour, keep up your recycling and don’t forget to switch things off when you’re not using them. Every little thing helps.
Wandering the streets of Singapore
Travelling over an extended period, on a budget, with two small children, our experience is different to that of the typical holiday maker. We have immersed ourselves in a relatively small piece of South East Asia. We have walked the streets, eaten the food, talked with the people, used all manner of public transport and seen the sights. We set out on our journey to see the world, to hang out and have fun together as a family. We are lucky that we have the freedom to stay a while when we like somewhere and move on when we’ve had enough. Right now we’ve had enough and are ready to move on. Asia is fascinating, mind blowing, and crazy (good and bad crazy) and I feel I’ve barely scratched the surface. I want to explore deeper, but I feel to really get in amongst it, to explore the rain forests and the huge bio-diversity, to travel the rivers and visit the tribes, one really needs to be travelling sans small folk. So before we all develop rickets, go insane and become hostile towards the natives, we must go.
Which brings us to a coffee shop in Changi airport (2 months earlier than originally planned) waiting for our flight to Melbourne. The girls have been playing on the enormous inflatable snow castle (complete with fake snow), while we all enjoy some good old favourite Christmas tunes. Whilst in Thailand and Malaysia we saw very few signs of Christmas (unsurprisingly), and what with the tropical climate it seems a bit weird to be looking at big fake baubles decorating the airport, but there it is, Christmas is but a few weeks away.
I’ll leave you with one final note of caution, if you are ever fool enough to patronise a hair dressing salon in a country where you are not at one with the language, do not be surprised if you come out looking like you’ve had a fight with a Tasmanian devil holding a pair of blunt pruning shears. I shall not be posing for many photographs until I find a reputable Australian hairdresser to salvage something of my barnet.
Which brings us to a coffee shop in Changi airport (2 months earlier than originally planned) waiting for our flight to Melbourne. The girls have been playing on the enormous inflatable snow castle (complete with fake snow), while we all enjoy some good old favourite Christmas tunes. Whilst in Thailand and Malaysia we saw very few signs of Christmas (unsurprisingly), and what with the tropical climate it seems a bit weird to be looking at big fake baubles decorating the airport, but there it is, Christmas is but a few weeks away.
I’ll leave you with one final note of caution, if you are ever fool enough to patronise a hair dressing salon in a country where you are not at one with the language, do not be surprised if you come out looking like you’ve had a fight with a Tasmanian devil holding a pair of blunt pruning shears. I shall not be posing for many photographs until I find a reputable Australian hairdresser to salvage something of my barnet.
