Nyaung Shwe, Myanmar

One hour out of Yangon on the number 43 bus is the Yangon main bus station; It's more like a small town populated by buses. The amount of people that smile and wave is incredible. Everyone offers to help carry my bag and ask to see my ticket, then ushering me deeper into muddy bus town; how anyone knows where anything is here is beyond me! Directed by countless people I arrive at a concrete room housing the bus company I'm travelling with. Once checked on I grab some noodles and watch the world go by for an hour. There's no other tourists to be seen anywhere.

The bus is described as a sleeper but only as in you might be able to sleep, sitting up, while the bus bounces and judders, all night. The tilt on my seat doesn't seem to work too well, but the lady in front tilts hers back fine. I use this setup to my advantage and wedge my head between the back of her headrest and my bag, which is now on my lap. The bus stops so many times, all through the night; after a few times I don't even bother getting off the bus. You can see the rest stops from about 4km away as they have lasers, neon signs, flashing full-size palm trees and loud music from a giant Samsung TV.

I'm woken up abruptly and told this is my stop. I blearily look at my watch (5am) and get off the bus. I now have to go 15km to Nyaung Shwe and the only option (short of waiting hours for a bus in the rain) is to get a taxi. As I'm alone I reluctantly stump up 7,000 Kyat (locals can apparently take this journey for 500) and pay a $5 entrance fee to the lake area, as it's a national park. I feel like I've been fleeced!

I get a room at the Nandawunn for $11 a night (down from $16). Nyaung Shwe is said to be the the most touristic place in Myanmar and the prices reflect this. The focus of the tourism is a beautiful lake surrounded by misty mountains peppered with hundreds of Pagodas. The lake is 22km long but you can't stroll around it as there's no paths. People get about on boats, and the houses and businesses around the lake and rivers are all stilted. I join 3 Chinese people and hire a boat and driver for the day (3,000 Kyat each). The boats are long and fast; we shoot down the river and into the lake past a huge welcome sign. We approach traditional fishermen who row using their right foot in a figure-eight motion, while standing. It looks extremely difficult but leaves their hands free to collect or distribute the nets. We leave the south side of the lake and enter a network of muddy fast flowing rivers. The driver skillfully manouvers the long boat around tight corners and through narrow stilted villages. The trip is well worth the money, here's what we saw;

 - Cigar making
 - Cotton weaving
 - Silk weaving
 - Boat making
 - Lotus weaving
 - Silversmith
 - Food market
 - Paper making
 - Various temples
 - Jumping cat monastery

Yep, Monks, in their spare time, have taught the cats to jump through hoops, for treats. There must be 10 or 11 cats of varying sizes and skills in jumping. One in particular is obviously the king and gracefully flies through hoop after hoop.  When the cats aren't jumping they sleep and wash amongst the many Buddhas. At the end of the day we dart north across the lake smoking some hand-rolled cigars and back up the river into Nyaung Shwe. Me and a Chinese girl on the boat learn we share the same birthday and perform the "birthday twin" hug, then part company.

It rains a lot in the rainy season. I didn't see blue sky once. This does however mean fewer tourists; there's barely anyone here. Umbrella's are essential, as is ducking into a cafe when a particularly heaviy downpour appears. One of these cafe's was Indra; a tiny little Indian with four tables and a warm welcome from Miss Indra, her daughters and brother. The first time here I ate a mutton curry with chapathi and chilli and mango side dishes, the second time I had a tandoori; both delicious. Speaking with Miss Indra's brother he talks about how he had drawn plans for a website, but doesn't know how to put one together. As the food's so good I offer the services of Bishshat to build the site and get some free chai ;)

Waiting for the bus out I managed to catch some of the Olympics in a little cafe. It was women's cycling. Despite the rain I had a deep hankering to be back in London; I've cycled those exact streets many times. The Brazilian leader was causing much merriment among the Burmese men I was sitting with!

Women's cycling - good spectator sport

You can see all of my photos here

Phayao, Thailand

We get on a ridiculously groovy bus in Chiang Rai and make the pleasant 5 hour journey to Phayao. I have my head hanging out of the window like a dog for most of the journey so my face feels like I've had plastic surgery on arrival. Looking for accommodation we bump into a buxom happy lady selling nicely hand painted bookmarks and postcards. She helps us out loads (to the point of us following her like sheep while she motorcycles in front) so we buy a couple of thing from her to say thanks. Phayao is nearly off the tourist radar so there are no guest houses or dorm's. What is does have though is (one) concrete monster of a hotel (say prison) with bags of character. It's called Tharn Thong and I suspect that this may be the only place to stay here. Walking into reception is like going back in time with 80's wood styling and furnishings abound and colours to match. The absolute highlight must be the switchboard. I won't describe it so look at the picture down the page - epic - I would like one in my home. The receptionists , who seem a little bewildered that we're there, offer us a clean and functional room for a bargain 170 Baht. It has the essential feature in the old style analogue phone that connects to the epic switchboard.

I love to mooch about and Phayao is amazing for this, almost perfect. There's lots to see in every day things. We thought about hiring a bike from the hotel but they all had punctures and no pump so we stroll off in a random direction. There's a group of local men gathered and a pretty Thai girl in a red and white outfit shouting down a microphone; turns out she's selling power tools. Around the corner there's a little man making what look like "chromozones" in what appears to be his living room. His wife is also happily tidying in the background so we say hi and grab a bag - and they're delicious.

There's lots of Wat's here, in various states of repair, all un-touristic, with monks slowly going about their business. Inside they're nothing special at all with old sofas pushed around the edges; I like this, it gives them a homely feel. The quiet roads are lined with spacious wooden houses with little gardens and driveways, there's an obvious pride in the town.

Panel from a Wat - with mosaic tiles missing

Wat Sri Khom Kham is a curious place. Slightly out of the town on the main road. Inside the main building is a giant sitting Buddha with a lap width of 14 meters. Around the edge are small electronic Buddha's in glass boxes, all in the different poses depending on what you want to pray for. You pop a coin in and something is shouted at you. We had a look around the back at the monastery where the young monks were pretending martial arts with brooms; until Anna walks past and they stop and giggle to each other. Further round there's a Buddhist depiction of hell (Naraka) in sculptures. I've not seen anything quite like this, containing endless suffering (until rebirth) and nudity in equal measures.

With some giant dark clouds approaching we head back and get to the lake in time to shelter under some trees. The lake is the largest freshwater lake in the north and has a sunken temple in the middle. We didn't visit it but you can pay a local to take you out in his rowing boat (motorboats not allowed). I'm not sure how you would actually see the temple from the surface but you can see it on a Google earth satellite image. With the rain now coming through the trees we run to a bandstand, populated by someone who's been removing some speakers from a huge stage with the picture of the king on it. I nip to a little stall and grab 3 Changs for us to wait the rain out. Questioning him wasn't easy, he spoke broken English, but Anna reported that he'd blurted fluent English when I went to get the beers!? (I'll check with her and update). The weather cleared and we saw a large fire in the distance and also the first other westerner we'd seen, with his Thai girlfriend. 

Long live the king

Serpent on the lake

Post-storm sunset

We'd read about a falang pizza place on wikitravel and my cheese craving was driving us to find it. It took 20 minutes (with some pictures of the St. Georges cross (Jubilee?) drains) then it melted into view: brick oven pizza! My mouth was already salivating by the time the friendly waitress from a southern US states greets us and we quickly order a half-and-half. One half being a cheese extravaganza and the other a meaty pepperoni. No beer is sold here and we ask if we can grab one from a shop and drink it at the table. We get a flat no. The pizza is tasty and is munched in a few minutes (I greedily had Anna's last slice). It contained genuine mozzarella and other "real" cheeses (it's been a while for me). My only preference is that I would like a thin or thick crust choice ;) About an hour later I get the very satisfied feeling of chronic indigestion and the cheese-sweats. Bliss. I shall be updating the wikitravel entry with some of this information when I get a moment.

Ban Lung, Cambodia

We try and wake Emily up to say goodbye, as she's heading back to the UK, but it's impossible so we just leave. We're picked up by bus #1 at 5:30am (without checking our tickets) and we're taken to a hub where the main bus would leave from, where they decided to check our tickets. Wrong bus! We're quickly whisked back on bus #2 to where we started just in time for the correct bus to collect us. Quite a relief! We get on bus #3 (making sure they check our tickets) and we're taken out of town to a dirt patch, where we switch to bus #4. This has all the usual features you could want while bus travelling through Asia including Arctic aircon and deafening Thai karaoke DVD's. The countryside up here in Northern Cambodia is barren; scorched trees and burning land make way for huge rubber tree plantations for the Chinese, who help by building roads up and through Laos to China. This journey should take us 12 hours in total at a cost of $16 and at 3pm we're already nine hours in and we stop at a town called Kratie. A standard town with a simple bus station, beautiful temple, and some street vendors and cafe's - I like it. We're told bus #5 isn't going to leave until there's enough people to fill it so we head out and grab some delicious pork and rice from a little family home/shop around the corner.

Bus #5 - with driver waiting patiently for people (bus #4 behind)

Once done we head back to see the situation; some more people have gathered but still not enough to go so we wait. There's a family waiting also, and their 3 year old driving his toy truck around in the dirt. The wheel falls off and Talitha pops it back on for him. We have a drink, pet the local wildlife and chat to a local who told us he's contracted malaria in Ban Lung and wouldn't go back there.Well, he's still alive, so that's good!

I  think around 6pm we finally get enough people crammed into the back and cabin of the bus and we set off with the setting sun. Inside at the front is a motorbike (of course) and strapped to the back is another motorbike. To exit the bus for toilet you must use the back windows. I'm right at the back-left corner, pressed up against the seat in front; luckily I have a window and I can put my head out in my usual dog-like fashion. Poor Talitha is crammed next to me so I have her bag on my lap. Next to her is a stocky English chap we met on the way; equally as crammed. I truly love these journeys; they're far more memorable than an easy journey on a comfortable coach; I find myself smiling at the sheer ridiculousness as the bus bumps its way along the unlit road through Northern Cambodia. I had a great moment with my head out of the window, trees dashing past, wind massaging my hair follicles, looking up at the brilliant stars and listening to Rano Pano by Mogwai - everything was perfect.

Everything was perfect, until we arrived at Ban Lung and the bus driver (after dropping everyone else where they wanted to go) decided to take us to his friends hotel. Bearing in mind it was now midnight and we'd been travelling for 17 hours we firmly said thanks but we're good, and we'd like to go to the place we'd booked. He refused to take us, so having no idea where we are we refused to leave the bus until we were there. Reluctantly the driver eventually dropped us off and we unloaded the bags and woke the lodge owner up. We'd booked a room for two but had now adopted Josh. Luck would have it they had a triple cabin (double and single bed) for $15 where we crashed out, big style.

Treetop eco lodge - triple room

Ban Lung is a busy working town with a friendly feel, the occasional tourist can be seen wondering about. It's pierced by an unusually wide main road and surrounded by lush green forests. The eco lodge is perched on a hillside above a valley amongst the trees. The walkways to the cabins weave through the forest. Taking breakfast on the open wooden balcony is lovely. The owners, their kids and their pets all hang out there with you. The dogs are particularly cute.

The mother - Ludu

Walkways

Communal area

We meet an Australian girl and grab some bicycles to head to a volcano lake for a swim. It's a quick jaunt up the main road to get there then off a side road, down some steep hills then up, up, up! Working up a little sweat on this 7km ride feels great - it's been a while since I've done much cycling. We arrive at the lake much to the happiness of some local kids who hug our legs and laugh hysterically! The lake is a perfectly circular 3km surrounded by thick shrub and forest. There is a path all the way around with main bathing points, all containing happy locals having picnics. We find a spot a little further around with some fallen trees we can jump off into the clear warm waters. I've not been fresh water swimming for a while; you dramatically notice the extra work required to stay float when not in salt water! 

Josh in a tree 

That evening we get a now typical Cambodian thunderstorm followed by a beautiful sunset, we sit about in the communal area and catch up with emails, chat and be entertained by the children and animals. Earlier that day we'd seen the family eating a delicious looking feast and we asked if we could have this for dinner, over anything on the menu. They agreed and went to the market to get the ingredients. It was huge plate of vegetables and edible flowers, with some smaller dishes of spicy fish and cooked vegetables with rice. Very delicious and filling.

Next day Josh has left for Laos leaving the three of us. We ask the Australian girl if she want to move to the single bed in our triple room, but she declines, needing her own space, so we move to another double room, nowhere near as nice in a series of rooms but still good for $5 each. Later we're back on the bikes again, this time searching for waterfalls. We have a basic map, which looks good, but turns out to be quite misleading, missing junctions and it completely not to scale! We have fun exploring though and get lost in some dusty friendly villages; everyone would say hello to you! Eventually we find the right track to a particular waterfall; we cycle past cleared land ready for rubber tree planting and down through more dusty villages before the heavens open and we take shelter in a tiny shop in the middle of somewhere. We have a quick peanut snack and drink then say bye to the shopkeeper and head down to the waterfall when the rains stop.

Little Hoochie, little Hoochie, on the dusty road... 

Land clearing 

Quick e mart

  The Cha Ong waterfall is big and rocky! You can't swim in the base but you can stand under it like a power-shower, although it feels like it's removing a layer of skin. There's also a huge overhang behind the waterfall, it's not often you get to see waterfalls from this angle. It's slippery to walk about on the mud and rocks. As far as waterfalls go it's a beauty! We sit at the bottom for 20 minutes gathering up some scattered sunshine then slip our way back up for a quick photo in some (we're told) matrimonial huts then it's back to the bikes for the journey home. On the way I ask some local kids, who ran over, if it's OK to take a picture; they all said yes, but one didn't seem too happy when I started snapping.

Matrimonial huts - roles reversed  

Not happy!

Relaxing beer after a hard day 

Our last stunning Cambodian sunset

Pushkar, India

The day train heading west from Jaipur to Pushkar takes you into dryer and dustier landscapes. Camels appear in the fields and the heat noticeably rises. We get a side seat by the window and in the berth opposite are possibly the friendliest family i've met so far - photographs and smiles are exchanged for most of the journey!

Surrounded by a swarm of determined tuk-tuk drivers we leave the train station and walk up the road in the sweltering heat to the bus station. On the way there are some bulls munching a tiny patch of rare green grass in what looks like a school field. The gate is slightly open so we go to take some pictures, when a bull raises its head in what looks like a gurn and rapidly starts moving towards us. I try and close the gate but didn't get there in time so turn and run. Greta is already running to the amusement of the locals! After a minute I stop and look around - the bull has stopped in the road, traffic flowing around it, doing the head thing again - strange!

The bus is so busy. We sweatily push our way on with rucksacks and get to the back. Standing room only for this 40 minute journey up the hill. At the top, thankfully, everyone gets off the bus and we're in a super-dusty bus stand / market area. There are the usual crowds of people, cows and dogs but now also the odd working camel walking past. We set off in search of a guest house.  

We end up staying at the Mayur guest house for 200 rupees a night. Lovely little place with spacious rooms, en-suite, and cute little courtyard out front and run by a lovely family, who's house (and private temple) is attached. This could be one of my favourite guest houses so far. 

Pushkar is a holy city so there's no meat (not even eggs) or alcohol allowed (although some places do sell it under the counter). The lake is the centre surrounded by Ghats (steps) where people can get to the water, and the town is built up all around this and surrounded by dusty hills. It's very pretty, and spiritually "touristic" with modern and classic hippies roaming the main street in Ali Babar trousers - you can get espresso's and pizza here no problems! 

One day we saw a dog arched over, limping, slightly drooling from the mouth and blood coming from its rear, it looked at us with such a heartbreaking face as the locals dash around it like it doesn't even exist. Not wanting to touch it we try and find a vet: someone that can maybe put the dog out of its misery. This is not possible. Even if there was a vet we're told that culture wouldn't allow them to kill something - nature has to take its course. The next day we see the dog again and it's still alive but lying in the road, eyes closed, in the full heat of the sun. it's so frustrating to see this and not being able to do anything. The next day the dog is dead, and has been covered up by someone, who will then move it. It was only later that day that I found a leaflet for a UK animal charity working in India called TOLFA - who care for sick and injured animals.

We're here over Indian new year and there's a festival or procession happening every morning, noon and night! There's just too many to list and I forget which is which as this was over a week ago and they all melt into one colourful array. People dressed as Shiva sit on thrones in the town square watching fire breathers, and spinners. Free food is offered to thousands of people celebrating on the streets. Holy water is collected from the lake and taken through the streets on ornate carts with trumpeters and drummers alerting of its presence. Holy men bless people as they are transported through the streets on carts while extremely random sounding (LOUD) organ recordings play. One ghat is decorated and huge collections of musicians sing and play while people (and occasional cows) flock to the water. I've never seen anything quite like it.

Over breakfast one morning I got talking to a Spanish American lady with an identical twin and a huge interest in photography. They live in Pushkar for months at a time and know some interesting people. We go to an "invitation only" antique shop buried off the side of a temple - you would never find it unless taken. The shop is tiny but tall. Shelves full of Indian antiques and rarities pile high to the ceiling, years of dust cementing things together preventing collapse. Tobacco tins, paintings, cameras, cards, syringes, jars and instruments - more things than anyone could ever look at! The old smiling Indian owner enters the room and offers chai and smokes with a gruff voice then sits cross-legged. We chat for a while, I buy a cool old Indian tobacco tin from the 50's for a gift and we say goodbye. It was quite surreal, like being on a film set.

There are various temples around Pushkar, and some out on the surrounding hills. All reachable within 1 hour and with some great views back down to the town.

Loaded with items from the fabulous falafel shop me and Greta head to the overnight sleeper bus pick up area on our way deeper into the desert.

Tissamaharama, Sri Lanka

I was unsure about coming here but as it's tucked neatly next to Yala national reserve and I really wanted to see some wildlife I thought an investigation was in order. The bus dropped me on a tiny high street, just a few shops but an array of tuk-tuk drivers as usual. As soon as I get off the bus I head across the street to a hotel and grab a samosa. As usual I could feel people looming down on me offering services. The guesthouse I had in mind was a way out of town, I had to get a tuk-tuk.

With the driver in the front and his friend in the back they began the hard sell! I was weary and after a little bargaining I decided to head to his friends guest house: it was half the price of the other place I'd chosen! Then the safari selling started. This is why most people come here to "Tissa" - to see leopards, elephants etc. I kept saying no no no, telling them i'd been to the best place in the world on safari.

Got to the guesthouse and it was the tuk-tuk drivers friends birthday, and they were in the garden drinking Sri Lankan whiskey. I got invited to sit with them so I did, and they gave me some whiskey, and some delicious food and all was good, but the safari selling never stopped. "More whiskey!" they said and topped up my glass. I could now see where this was going so stopped with the whiskey. One by one they spoke to me about the safari options and I kept a strong defence. Then they asked me if I wanted to go to a foundation party: his friend has just finished the foundations on his new house. They asked me if I liked to have "fun". I said I didn't understand their meaning of fun, but had an idea after the tuk-tuk driver experience. Indeed they did mean sex. I said absolutely not in a man-on-man way and told them i'd had the same question asked the other day! They explained it's common here. I asked about the women and they said that they can't have fun: they're not allowed to drink - only "certain" women can drink.

At this point the tuk-tuk drivers brother turned up and asked if i wanted to go to a famous temple with him. I said yes and made a hasty exit from the ever increasing drunkardness. He was fine, and explained that he doesn't like some of his brothers friends. He did though try the safari sell and also asked if I wanted a lady for the evening! Wtf! I declined both! The temple was lovely, full with locals singing and dancing.

I'm now extremely weary of Sri Lankan men, either because they want to sell me something or  want to have "fun". I really don't want to feel like this, it's bloody annoying. Also the extreme hard sell completely put me off the safari, which I was actually considering.

The next morning I bumped into a few of the hungover friends, who again went on about the safari. Stewing over the whole situation in the night I'd become highly irritated and ignored them and went for a walk by one of the wetlands nearby. Apart from the occasional tuk-tuk driver trying to flog me a safari it was blissfully serene with an abundance of birdlife and insects. This cleared my head a lot.

On my way back to the guesthouse I got talking to a lady washing her clothes in the river. She was an artist and sold her paintings in France. She took me to her house, i met her husband and looked at her art. Very colourful people paintings, not my thing but good. She made me sweet tea, sweet onion and egg hoppers for breakfast. Lovely lady! I wish I could remember her name. I wrote it down, but washed the piece of paper in my shirt.

She completely cleared the frustration and I left to grab my bag before the (non-gay) brother and his (hairdresser) friend dropped me at the bus stop. That arm on the hip is a dead giveaway I'm sure!