Tour in a “chicken bus”

OMG — I am morphing into some type of vegetable. Perhaps a “couch potato” without a couch. I remind myself of an old Otis Redding song, “Sittin’ on the dock of the bay”. I guess that any Otis Redding song would be a bit old, but this one seems particularly suitable. It tells of a man just sittin’ in the morning sun and he’ll be sittin’ when the evening comes. That pretty much says it all. Describes my day to a “T”. Goes on to the lively part where he watches the tide roll in, and then watches it roll out again. Who can stand the stress? Maybe it is time to get back to our world as we know it. This really could become habit forming. Did manage to muster up sufficient ambition to snap a couple of photos in front of our hotel.

looking up, from above the main pool

looking down from above the main pool

In truth, our day is not totally filled with a void. “She who shops” and I took the “chicken bus to Phuket town, the other day. This is a bus that will take you from Kata to Karon, then on to Phuket town, in any order, for 30 baht. This would be one dollar, for anyone trying to put this in perspective. From Kata, where we are at present, to Phuket, is about an hour trip. Not that the distance is so great, but we are not talking “hair straight back” speedy transportation. Plus, the bus will stop and pick you up anywhere along the way, if you just wave it down. The bus, itself, was, I believe, hand crafted from a 1926 Hino three-ton chassis. You then take whatever lumber is handy, and construct an enclosure.

the chicken bus, in all it’s glory

Well, at least a roof and some half sides. Windows are a luxury that we can’t  afford, but there are tarps that will roll down, for use in the rainy season. Place a wooden bench down each side, and a moveable wooden bench down the middle, and you have our bus. I am certain that the trip is open to livestock as well, as long as they pay their 30 baht. Hey, it was an experience, and helped to use up another day. I fear that I am making this sound as though we have absolutely nothing to do, but that is not really the case. We still take our walk, once the sun is directly above us, and has reached it’s hottest point. This allows us to perspire buckets of water, and complain about the heat. It also allows us the opportunity to search out new and additional eating establishments. Sort of a “hunter gatherer” thing, in our quest for survival. (As if starvation might ever be on our list of things to do.)

I believe that I have determined what special appeal Thailand holds for Bonnie. It is one of the few places in the world where the clothes that she buys are marked “large”, and she is just on the tall side of “average” height. Methinks that it gives her a sense of empowerment and enjoyment, when adult people are actually looking up when they are speaking to her. That, and the fact that they are most always smiling. Not only when they are desperately trying to sell you something, but even after you manage to convince them that you really are not going to buy the item. We have become quite friendly with a young lady who operates one of the small market stalls just down from our hotel. She is one of those individuals who constantly smiles, and loves to chat.

Bonnie, the Amazon

She is actually from Myanmar, (Burma), is eighteen years old, and has worked in Thailand for three years. She has a room not far from where she works, that is large enough to sleep in, and a shared washroom with five other ladies, who also have their own room. She works every day from 9:00 AM, until 10:30 PM, eating lunch and dinner at work. On the up-side, she does get about a week off each year, but not all at the same time. Other than that, her work week is seven days. Her mother and younger brother also live in Kata, but she doesn’t get to see them too often. Her mother works as a housekeeper seven days per week, so their schedules don’t allow for much visiting. Her father is no longer living, and her younger sister, who is now fifteen, lives with a grandmother back in Burma. As the grandfather is also deceased, both she and her mother send money home for the care of those back in Burma. Now I ask you, what is not to smile about? However, along with her cheerful disposition, she has become conversational in English and Russian, and passable in Swedish. This, as well as being fluent in her native Burmese, as well as Thai, and I am still struggling with just English.

It seems that as Thailand becomes more prosperous, more foreign workers are allowed in to fulfill the work requirements in the low paying jobs. Much like Canada and it’s immigrant policy, or the US and Mexicans.

I took a snap of a house, built in the Thai style.

Old Thai style housing

Most of these are quite old, dating back over a hundred years. They were built with very high door sills, to keep the evil spirits from entering the houses. This was carried on from room to room on the off chance that some of the spirits managed to sneak past the outer sills. Although most of these dwellings were built before windows were available here, they were fitted with shutters. These could be opened to allow for cross breezes, if they were available. They  were also built upon pilings, to allow the air to circulate beneath the building, and to allow for water during the rainy season.  As most of these buildings were constructed of heavy teak planking, they, for the most part, withstood the test of time. Unfortunately, these buildings are rapidly disappearing. As teak wood is now getting in short supply, these houses are being dismantled for the timber inside. The makers of furniture have found that the wood that has seasoned for this long, makes superb furniture, much more stable that new, dried wood, and so the teak takes on a new life, in a new place.

I suspect that  new found affluence that Thailand is enjoying, may be taking a setback, due to the political climate here. The tactics of a small percentage of the demonstrators, has apparently affected this years tourism, which had already suffered from previous political unrest. In a country that depends so heavily upon the tourist trade, the incomes of much of the population is greatly reduced. But the Thai people seem to be very resilient, and will bounce back, still with a smile. It is one of the things that do keep the tourists returning. I know that it is one of the things that keep us coming back.

That is it for now, take care —
T

Back to Bang Tao

Well, we’re back in Thailand and back at Bang Tao Beach, staying at the Kris Resort. Made it back to Thailand between Olympic hockey games and you should have seen my pouty face when I found that the coverage at the Kris did not include ESPN. Now towards the beach from our hotel, is an interesting restaurant called Nok and Jo’s. What is actually interesting is how it came about. Jo is from cowboy country in the foothills of Alberta, and as he was experienced in log building construction, he decided to come to Thailand after the Tsunami, to help them rebuild. During this period, he met and fell in love with a Thai lady. After their marriage, they returned to Alberta for a period of time, but decided to return to Thailand and open a restaurant.

Olympic Gold at Nok and Jo’s

Being Canadian born, I thought that if anyone knew, Jo would know where the gold medal game could be viewed. Not only did he know, but was picking it up on his dish system and showing it in the restaurant. Over here the live game was actually at 3:00 in the morning, Monday, but that could matter less, he was opening the restaurant and inviting any one to attend who wished to watch. We, (yes I said we) got up in the middle of the night, along with a couple dozen other individuals, to watch one great hockey game. It is seldom that one can watch a game that is that evenly matched, but of course, having Canada win, on home ice, was a special thrill in itself. YAY CANADA !!

A happy, mostly partisan, hockey crowd

Bonnie suffered a slight trauma from being subjected to a sunrise, but I suspect that some proper Rip Van Winkle time will set things straight again.

I have been somewhat remiss in updating my blog, and I will quickly blame the Kris for this last lapse. They have been having a terrible time with their internet service, but managed to get the system all up and running today, which leaves me without an excuse.

You may have heard that Thailand is experiencing it’s annual political unrest period, so allow me to verbalize Thai politics as I perceive it. There are basically two parties in Thailand, split approximately down the middle. The something, something party for democracy, who support the Monarchy and wear yellow shirts, and the something, something democratic party, who don’t support the Monarchy, and wear red shirts. A couple of years back, the red shirt party was in power, but the president was deemed to have been dipping his beak in the public purse. He was previously involved in the communication industry, and very wealthy as a result. As in most democracies, the members of parliament are required to divest  themselves of company shares, wherein a conflict might be deemed possible. Supposedly, the man had done just that, but after the company, (his) was awarded many, many valuable government contracts, it was found that he had retained his shares, which had earned him an additional 2.7 billion US dollars. Yes, that is with a “b”.

Rather than face a trial, he elected to skip bail and flee the country, so he now spends time in Dubai, Cambodia, England, and any where he won’t be shipped back to Thailand. The supreme court of Thailand found him guilty in absentia, and recently reclaimed slightly over half of the assets which had been seized, or about 1 ½ billion US dollars. A billion here, a billion there, soon we have some serious money, but the lifestyle of the missing president did not appear to be greatly affected. The interesting part is that all of this didn’t seem to alter his position here in Thailand, as his “red shirts” remain totally loyal, and want to overthrow the current government. I guess that having a crook in power is a good thing, if he is your crook. It must be a political thing, as I recall Richard M Nixon, assuring the American public, that “I am not a crook”, just before the poo hit the fan.

On the other hand, the “yellow shirts”, who are in power, love their king, and like the Brits, blindly  support their monarchy.  King Rama lX, became king in 1950, making him the longest ruling monarch, but as with most monarchies, there is a high cost involved. There are several palaces to maintain, and a lifestyle to support, but as a gracious king, Rama lX does return a portion of this funding, by supporting public venues of his choosing.

In the background of all this, is a rumbling about the cost of the monarchy, as the country is actually run by a parliament, and although they love their king, that possibly the situation may require another look at such time as the king is no longer able to rule. This would possibly shift some power over to the “red shirts”, who would love to get their dude back in power. This period in time may not be that far off as king Rama lX, made a short public appearance the other day, his first in over five months. After a couple of hours, he returned to hospital, where he has been for the previously mentioned five months. Actually, from his appearance, I am not certain that he didn’t leave this land five months ago, and the hospital is trying to mummify him for public display. All in all, the political situation in Thailand looks a bit bleak in the near future. On the upside, the confrontations seem to be in the area of Bangkok, and at present seem to be confined to tossing the occasional small bomb into banks. Although the “red shirts” claim no responsibility for these actions, they do claim that the banks have the 1 ½ billion  that was scooped from their guy, and that this money grab was strictly political.

Another day comes and goes !

In the meantime, we will hang out in Phuket and relax. We will keep an eye peeled on the politics, but don’t expect a great deal of excitement for a while. It is hard to believe that we are in the final leg of our holiday. I don’t know if it is just this age thing, or maybe it is because we are a day ahead, but time has scurried by.

I will try to be a bit more punctual re the blog, but “chillin out” in the hot, hot sun, doesn’t give a lot to talk about.

Chat you soon.

T

Leisurely Langkawi

Well we had enough Starwood points to get us a week at the Sheraton Langkawi Resort, so that is what we did. Nice spot, quite upscale, private beach and surrounded by jungle. In other words, a tad remote. That, in itself, is not a bad thing, but it does bother me a bit that when there is a captive market the prices escalate. This goes right from the food and drink, to the twenty US dollars per day that they want for internet hookup. Wifi hookup is very nearly taken for granted in this present day and age, but not at the Sheraton apparently. Once you get over this small glitch, it is a great place to stay.

Langkawi is a group of about 70 plus islands, still on the Malacca Straits.

Langkawi islands

The main island is about the same land area as Penang, but far less populated. The Jetty, where the fast ferry docks, is about 30 minutes from the Sheraton, by taxi — about $7.00 worth. It is also the major town area, such as it is. But our intent is to lay back, and that is what we did. The Sheraton is situated on about a quarter section of land with a great deal of beach front. The accommodation is primarily comprised of four unit bungalows, each with a private deck area.

Bungalows and grounds, Sheraton Langkawi

Very comfortable, and I enjoyed taking my morning coffee on the quiet of the deck. Bonnie also enjoyed me taking my coffee on the deck, as it left her the quiet of the room, which she could enjoy — with  her eyes closed. One morning I was enjoying my coffee, deeply engrossed in my Kindle, when I heard a soft shuffling in the chair beside me. Thinking that Bonnie had rousted herself, and had joined me to enjoy the morning, I changed my focus of attention so that I could not be accused of ignoring her company. Imagine my surprise to see that it was not Bonnie who was sharing my morning, but a want-to-be, who was a bit of a look alike.

This is NOT Bonnie!

This was apparently a “long-tailed Macaque” monkey, and there was my  animal magnetism at work once again. These are not only probable ancestors of mine, but are no doubt relatives of the Macaque monkeys of Ubud, but with longer tails than both of us. This group of monkeys would come by most mornings on their way to the beach area. Most likely doing the beach thing in order too get a good laugh. Large older people, in small Speedo swim suits, burning to a crisp under a hot Malaysian sun. Even the locals were complaining about the heat, but in the immortal words of Noel Coward, “mad dogs and Englishmen go out in the mid day sun”.

One of the few touristy things to do on Langkawi, is to do the Gondola lift to the mountain top. Not to be out done by the tram in Penang, Langkawi has a Gondola ride to the top of a mountain. Actually to the top of two mountains, as it does a peak to peak thing at the top. Like Penang, this takes place at the 700 plus meter level, but the area is more rugged. There is something about swinging in a gondola, over a chasm, with very vertical walls. The peak to peak is not of the magnitude of Whistler, but the view is awesome. Add to all of this is a suspension bridge between the second mountain top, and yet another mountain.

Suspension bridge

Definitely the place for a view of Langkawi.

A mean first step

From an animal standpoint, there was a lot happening in the early morning, and I had become in the habit of taking my camera with me, for my time on the deck. This was an advantage, for one morning, a group of  “Dusky leaf Monkeys” came strolling by.

Dusky Leaf Monkey

More dusky leaf

There goes that “monkey-whisperer” bit again. Now these didn’t look like anything from my gene pool, but I include a few snaps for the benefit of any of you out there who may be doing a family tree thing.

I was starting to pick up on some of the local monkey dialects, and Bonnie decided that I had ‘way to much time on the hands’. The solution was to get us out of there, which worked out well as our time was up at the Sheraton at any rate. The only glitch was that we had come to understand that there was a flight from Langkawi to Phuket. Well there is, it just happens to go via Penang or Kuala Lumpur. The downside to the latter is that it makes a long trip out of it, and the shortcoming of going through Penang was that it didn’t work for the days that we required. Our solution was to take the fast ferry back to Penang, and then , if we were going to be in the area, we might just as well stay a few extra days, so that is the plan. This will work out well, as Thailand may be having its annual airport disruption, by the opposing political factions, and this will give us a test of the waters before jumping in. The blog will keep you posted as to what we are doing, if and when we know ourselves.

T

The Straits of Malacca

We took a day tour from Kuala Lumpur to Malacca, or Melaka, as it were. Some say toe-mah-toe, some say toe-may-toe, or whatever. Chinese New Year festivities made accommodation at a premium, so we settled on the day trip. It worked out well, as we did get to see the area at least, and it was quite interesting. Malacca started out as a small fishing village until the Portuguese explorers noted it’s strategic location on what is now known as the Straits of Malacca.

A little touch of home, in the Portuguese community

They established a trading post here, and soon the Chinese merchants moved into the area. Subsequently the Dutch became the dominant presence, then the British, and for a brief three year period during WWII, the Japanese were in control. The Portuguese, Dutch and British left their mark both in the gene pool and the architecture, and the Japanese are still making their presence known by means of the yen. The Chinese methodically stayed in the background during this entire period, until they were the dominant ethnic group in Malacca. They also brought the Buddhist and Taoist religions to the area, and Malacca boasts the largest Chinese cemetery outside of Beijing.

St. Francis Xavier

The Portuguese brought the Catholic religion to the area, and built a church on the highest point of land, later to be named for St. Francis Xavier. It is said that St. Francis was interred inside the church for a period of time, later to be relocated. A statue was placed in his honor at the entrance of the church. When the Dutch took over, they left the church intact, out of respect to the Portuguese who remained in the area. Under the British rule, this was not a consideration, and the church was promptly utilized as munitions storage facility. The fact that the walls were very nearly four feet thick probably entered into the picture as well. Still the old church stands, albeit without a roof, but standing none the less.

Open Air Church

The only other remnant from these times, is the entrance from the original fortifications. There is talk of rebuilding the walls of the original fort, but that remains to be seen.

Entrance gate of the old fort

There is a street in Malacca, known as Harmony street, as within a two block distance are both Catholic and Protestant churches, Buddhist and Taoist temples, and, of course, a mosque. Apparently these have all stayed in the area, without mishap, for many generations. Only time will tell if this can stay for many more.

Our next bus trip took us to Penang, an island off the coast of mainland Malaysia. The bus depot in KL was like most big city bus depots, way too busy, far too many people. We were not even certain that we might not be taking the “chicken bus”, as the bus was not the newest of the fleet, but it was comfortable, and there was no livestock to accompany us, as we settled in for our five plus hour ride. Now as I stated, the bus was comfortable and the roads in Malaysia are superb — very modern and in wonderful condition. No doubt a benefit for a robust oil and gas industry. Malaysia certainly doesn’t have the appearance of most of the countries in the area. I mentioned that Penang was an island off the mainland, I didn’t mention that it is connected to the mainland by a bridge. The bridge is 13.5 km long, and six lanes wide. Impressive to say the least. An additional bridge is slated to be built further south, that will be nearly three times as long — just add money.

Night view of the bridge

A very good call on our jaunt to Penang, as we thoroughly enjoyed the city. Probably the area which we enjoyed most in Malaysia, although there really was no area that we did not like, but to a lesser degree. Penang has a decided British influence, pip, pip, old chap, with many buildings built in the Victorian style. For the most part, these buildings have been very well maintained, with many more protected in a heritage trust.

A colonial private home

In order that Penang would be a “proper” place to live, the Brits also built botanical gardens and a tramway to a mountain top. For the view, don‘t you know, and as it was cooler at that altitude, a proper place for “high tea”. The tram is indeed an interesting achievement, in that the vertical lift was some 700 plus meters, and had to be built in two sections. The lower section takes you to just over the half way mark, at which point you change cars for the remaining distance. In that there are cars descending at the same time  that there are cars going up, and as there are but single tracks in both sections, a small length of double track is provided at a passing point.

Tram track

It is probably a good thing that this is all controlled by cable, as I suspect that the monotony towards  the end of the day, might provide some interesting events, if it were left in the hands of humans. The tram is slated to shut down shortly, so that some major renovations might be undertaken. The track is to be twinned, and a single run from top to bottom. I fear that it may lose some of its charm when this takes place, but will increase the ability to move passengers. Regardless, the trip will be interesting, and the view is spectacular. Certainly worth the time spent.

Passing lane

The botanical garden is an area to view the local flora and fauna, and surprise, surprise, the resident group of monkeys. Now my family is starting to call me the “monkey-whisperer”, but I swear that I am not searching them out. Perhaps the monkeys see a family resemblance and want to check it out, or maybe they just think I’m nuts.

Rhesus monkey

They are rather interesting, in a monkey sort of way, and as these ones were Rhesus monkeys, they were a bit different than those previously viewed. Come to think of it, I do somewhat resemble the older fur-faced one of the group.

Self portrait

In addition to bringing their architecture and engineering to Penang, the British also brought their East Indian staff, who have stayed and established themselves as an East Indian community. This makes for a wonderful variety of culinary delights, for along with the Portuguese and Chinese communities, and the native Malaysian cuisine, the palate can be treated to a new taste experience almost at will.

On the subject of a taste experience, I am a bit disappointed in my old buddy, Johnnie Black. I have run across him both of the last two years that we have come to Asia, and I just assumed that he would be in the area again. It seems that he also likes to winter in this area, but alas, he is not to be found. I did think that I had caught a glimpse of himself, at the duty free in the Kuala Lumpur airport, but I fear that I must have been mistaken. Perhaps, in this land of many mosques, he is a “persona non grata”.

As luck would have it, Bonnie managed to book us into a hotel that was within walking distance to a shopping plaza. Well, not just a shopping plaza, but the largest shopping plaza in Penang. Now this was no doubt divine intervention, as there was no where on the hotel site that made mention of this, but there it was, all the same. I believe that it must have caught Bonnie somewhat by surprise, as she could just not get into a proper shopping frame of mind. I can tell when this is the case, as she likes to keep me near, when in the mall. This, so she won’t become lost, or something. I have no problem with this, but I do feel somewhat uncomfortable, hanging about the “ladies loo”. For fear of possibly being mistaken for Tiger Woods, I try to place myself as far from the facility as I can, and still remain within sight. I was thus positioned, when I noted a Muslim gentleman fidgeting in the area of the “ladies”, and thought, perhaps, that he was somewhat confused and filled with indecision. Now I must point out that in order to assist foreign travelers, the facilities are identified by stick people, one with trousers and the other with a dress. In as much as the gentleman in question was attired in a nightshirt, dress, sort of a thing, I assumed that he was possibly confused as to which he should use. At this point his daughter joined him from the “ladies“. At least I assume that it was his daughter, she was wearing a dress — but then again, so was he. Maybe it was his son and they were both confused,— now I’m confused — and at this point I guess that it really doesn’t matter.

A view from the top of the tram

Our next stop is the island of Langkawi, also on the straits of Malacca, but less populated and more laid back than Penang. Time for some more R&R. We could have spent a bit more time in Penang had we known that we would enjoy it as much as we have, but “it am what it am”. The trip to Langkawi is a three hour boat ride by fast ferry. It should be interesting. We shall see.

Take care of yourselves, and enjoy each day!

T

Kuala Lumpur

One thing about plan B from Lombok, was that we got to spend a bit of additional time in Bali — at the airport mind you, but Bali none the less. On our taxi trip from the “fast boat” to the airport, I had occasion to study animal husbandry at its finest. I believe that I mentioned last year, that the Thai people had managed to skillfully breed the common dog to its lowest life style. I must reconsider this previous observation, as I have now come to the conclusion that the people of Bali, have exceeded this low point. The dogs of Bali seem to fall into about the 20 pound range and  resemble absolutely no breed what so ever. Their coloring is generally mottled, at best, and judging by the raised hackles, most closely resemble some form of Hyena. The hot climate has given them a similar degree of ambition to that which I also possess, and so, they can most generally be found lying about, doing nothing. No one seems to care for them, so the height of their ambition seems to be spent digging through the garbage, in search of something edible. It is just a good thing that they have yet to find out that fat-folk don’t move too fast.

About five hours of loafing about the airport and we were KL bound. This, of course put our arrival at about 11:00 PM, and thus our hotel arrival after midnight — and so to bed.

Daybreak showed Kuala Lumpur to be the vibrant city that it is portrayed to be. Although the economy has been adversely affected, it has not apparently spilled over into the construction industry. There are new sky scrapers being built everywhere. Of course, one cannot speak of sky scrapers without a visit to the Petronas Twin Towers.

Petronas Towers

These were a tribute to the oil and gas industry of Malasia, and was built by a consortium of world players in the industry, and includes not only the towers, but a very high end shopping mall and a world class auditorium for the symphony. The towers, themselves, have been surpassed several times as the worlds tallest, but are still a marvel in their general construction and appearance. The entire outer surface that is not window, has been clad in stainless steel, giving a boater fits of drooling, as ones imagination runs rampant.

Looking up

Looking down

Looking all around

Now, as there are a limited number of tickets given out each day, to go up to the viewing platform, and as it is imperative to get there at least 1/2 hour prior to opening, that one might be the lucky recipient, Bonnie appointed me as the official procurer of tickets. In addition, it was suggested that I get there more in the neighborhood of 1 hour early to positively ensure the acquisition. The fact that it would allow Bonnie some additional undisturbed sleep, was totally secondary, but she took advantage of this bonus anyway. It is good that I was very early, as I was about the middle of the pack. It is a delight to be standing on a marble floor for an hour and a half , in close quarters with about a gazillion sweating bodies. Did I mention that it is hot in Malaysia?

After our tower tour we managed to wear ourselves to a frazzle, strolling about the very fancy mall. There is obviously some money somewhere in Malaysia.

After the development of the Petronas complex, the downtown area was designated KLCC, or Kuala Lumpur city center, and so buildings in this area have their name followed by the tell tale KLCC.

Took a city tour via the “hop on, hop off” bus. This allows you to get on and off as many times as you like each day, for one set price, and allowed us to see a variety of different sights and areas. As we were strolling through Afghanistan, I happened to snap a picture of a young refugee girl, with haunting eyes.

Haunting eyes

Well, maybe it wasn’t me who was strolling through Afghanistan, but those of you who are older than DVD’s, might recall seeing the above picture in the National Geographic, back in 1982. The original picture was actually taken by freelance photographer, Steve McCurry, and we were fortunate to be able to view his exhibition which is showing until April 8th. He is an incredible photographer, and many of his pictures are totally awe inspiring. And, oh yes, I did actually take the above picture, as I snapped this view of a display poster.

On the topic of pictures one could fill a book with pictures of unique buildings, displaying both the old and new of  KL today.

New steel and glass

There is much activity throughout Malaysia at this time, in preparation for Chinese New Year. It is an exciting time, and holds great importance for the Chinese population. For those of you who were unaware, this is the year of the Tiger. Sorry ladies, that is not the year of the “Cougar”. I guess that you will just have to wait.

There is a lot to see, in both Kuala Lumpur and the surrounding area, and where another day may take us is still undecided, but I’ll try to keep you updated from time time time. In the meantime — take care!

T

The last of Lombok

Well, we got our tour of the south of Lombok. Not a great deal to see as the island is not all that populated, and of course, the tour guides try to direct you towards the local industry in hopes that you will make a purchase. We, of course, did our best not to disappoint anyone Our first stop was to a pottery making facility, where all types of pottery is made, by hand, for export.The items are mostly shipped to Java, and then for export.

Our next stop in the world of industry, was to a village noted for its weaving. Weaving had been done here, in the same fashion , for generations.

Hand weaving by tradition

Rather than go to school for a wasteful education, the girls are taught to weave, from about the age of seven. Now these looms are very basic, and the weaver must stretch it tight by means of her feet at one end, and a board across her back at the other end. This is done from a sitting position on a carpet of straw. You get to do this all day, which would amount to about 10 cm of weaving. You do get a bit of time off in order to give birth, and the children are then looked after the old folks, who can no longer weave. We had a local guide, who gave us quite an insight into the village life. She spoke very good English, which she had self taught from television and the tourists who had come to the village.

Village guide

In between showing her village to tourists, she wove cloth, along with the rest. She explained that cost kept the majority of the village uneducated, as schooling is paid by the individual families, and very few can afford this luxury, so most education is saved for the boys. The girls are taught to weave, marry young, and have many children. This outlook was slowly changing, and the present generation were only having one or two children.

Our next stop was to the Kuta beach region of Lombok, which is on the south end of the island, and has a white sand beach. It also has bigger waves, and is an attraction to surfers. This works out well enough as the area is not as well  developed as the Sengigi area where we were staying. The surfers tend to be of a younger generation, (if you can imagine), and are less fussy about their accommodation.  As it was a Sunday when we did our tour, there were many locals at the beach, Sunday being a family day and the beach being affordable.

Locals at the beach

The picture is of the kids at  play — miles of soft sand and they are all on the lone lump of rocks in the area. Go figure!

Back in the seventeen hundreds, when Lombok had a king, the royal family spent considerable time in the mountains to the north. This, because it was cooler, and if you were king, you could. It was, however, a bit of a pain in the royal rump, to travel back and forth to the mountains all the time, and so the king had a new temple and grounds built for his personal pleasure.

If I were king

The grounds were excavated to give the appearance of the temple situated upon the mountain to, and two lakes were dug to represent the two lakes which the king enjoyed at his mountain retreat. Although this was a Hindu temple it is still a very popular spot today, used by both the few remaining faithful to the Hindu philosophy, and the predominant Muslim population.

All that a king can see

From Lombok we are to go to Kuala Lumpur, in Malasia, and as swimming is out of the question, the most likely solution was to fly. We booked passage for the three hour flight with a local carrier called Merpati Airlines. Upon closer scrutiny, via the internet, I noticed that Merpati’s track record was less than stirling. They poked one in the dirt in August of 2009, and then repeated the performance in December. They were probably placed on this earth in order that even Air Canada might look good. A quick cancellation of our tickets and we are back to the “fast Boat” to Bali and an Air Asia connection to Kuala Lumpur. More to tell about this metropolitan area in the next blog issue.

Take care of yourselves.

T

Gone to Gili

Goodbye Bali, hello to the Gili Islands. We were quite pleased with our tour arrangements for a look about Bali, which we made at a street side shop in Ubud, and so booked our travel to the Gili Islands with the same shop. This may have been a bit of a mistake, as things didn’t quite work out as we had planned. Not bad, mind you, just not as we were given to understand. Now as the trip entailed a 45 minute run by car to the area where we were to catch our fast ferry, our private, air conditioned car was to pick us up at 7:00 AM sharp. Well we were on time but our air conditioned car was a tad slow, about 20 minutes, and actually was a mini bus — without A/C and packed full. However, thanks to some kamikaze manoeuvres by our driver, we made it to the fast ferry before it left. Well that, and the fact that all the passengers were in our van, but what the heck. Now the brochure of the fast ferry showed an impressive vessel of rather new construction. Now either the brochure was very old, or we got the standby ferry used for smaller crowds. I suspect the latter. But in fairness, it didn’t appear to leak, and it did get us to the Gili Islands.

What you see is what you get

Now the Gili Islands are a bit of a step back in time. The main island, Gili Trawangan, has a road around the circumference of the island. This, in itself is not that unusual, but the fact that you can walk this entire length of road in under two hours. Also, you are not going to take a car around the island as there are no cars, nor are there any motorcycles. Even the island answer to tuk-tuks are limited to a single horsepower. They are small passenger carts, with a roof, and pulled by a small horse. Freight is a bit different in that it is placed in a small cart, without a roof, and then pulled by a small horse.

Rapid transit, Gili style

Talk about laid back, you can watch the sun get up and the sun go down, and in between you could walk about, swim in the ocean, swim in the hotel pool, or shop in the few small shops. The rest of the time you must take it easy and avoid the stress of this hectic pace. Remember those idyllic dreams of a south seas island? This might well be it. It the hectic lifestyle of Gili Trawangan starts to get to you, a small boat will get you to Gili Air or Gili Meno, both smaller islands, without the hustle and bustle. In fact, without a great deal of anything. After just a couple of days on Gili Trawangan, I was contemplating quitting shaving and perhaps growing a pony tail, but we only had those two days and then we are off to Lombok.

A “quick boat” takes us over to Lombok, which is a similar size to Bali. It even has a large city, Mataram, and an airport. Our destination is on the west coast of Lombok, in an area known as Sengigi. It is situated on a bay, with a sandy beach, which is protected by a coral reef.

Sengigi by the sea

We are in a Sheraton resort, which I can assure you is quite comfortable. The grounds are immaculate and the staff very friendly and attentive. Add to this, there is probably not even a twenty-five percent occupancy in this, the off season. Cheap rates and no crowds, I like it all ready.

Me in the morning

Lombok is a volcanic island, as are most of the islands in this neck of the woods, and although there are no active volcanoes here at present, the evidence is quite apparent. On the north central area of the island is their tallest mountain, which, of course had a volcanic origin. As the mountain barfed out the lava to form the rest of the island, and then cooled, it left a bowl where the top of the mountain once was. This, of course, filled with water and formed a sizeable lake. The odd happening here was that a subsequent, smaller volcano poked its ugly head out of the lake bottom, took a look around, and quit. So what we have is a volcano, nearly encircled by a fresh water lake, within a volcano. To actually observe this rascal entails an overnight hike, so I will just close my eyes and picture it. Besides, we only have 5 days in Lombok, and a tour of the south central region is in the works before we leave for Malaysia.

Sunset from the beach

We will keep you posted, take care of yourselves —

T

‘nother day ‘nother sunset

Monkeys in the Morning

We are now entrenched in our new hotel in Ubud, (that is pronounced Oobood), and is situated on Monkey Forest Road. See how colorful the Balinese peoples are, no old Elm street for them. It has been an interesting day getting here from Seminyak, where we were to here. We hired a driver, which was a good thing, both because he was cheap, but also he knew how to drive upon Bali’s twisty little roads, on the wrong side, with way, way too much traffic. We did see some interesting countryside though, and the trip was uneventful. We arrived in Ubud in time to get our luggage into our room and then stroll the streets in search of more food. As luck would have it, we were successful in both endeavors, and managed, once again to stave off starvation. It was then back to our room for a good nights sleep.

All was well until the early AM, about 6:00, when I heard a racket outside our room. Now Bonnie tends to be a tad peckish at this time of the day, particularly if she is awake, and I was beginning to get a bit upset with these workers who would not at least try for a little stealth, and as I was awake anyway, I decided to arise and face the day. After a shower, a shave, and a new change of clothes I was still subjected to the banging and thumping of the annoying workers. A stroll out to our deck soon changed my mind. Remember that bit about Monkey Forest Road? Well the workers were monkeys, and the banging and thumping was the sound of them running around our deck, and knocking the occasional tile from our roof. These are Macaque monkeys, and they apparently like to take a stroll through the hotel grounds each day in search of food. They have done an extremely good job of training the tourists, and will take food from your hand, with a perfectly shaped little hand of their own. The bunch that tour the hotel encompass several generations, and because of their comfort level with humans will pose for some rather interesting pictures. After two or three hours, they all left the hotel, and went back to the forest.

Having missed the monkey excitement, I felt compelled to enthuse about my situation to Bonnie, but she seemed less enthused than I expected. I guess that this was probably due to the fact that not being up, prevented her from looking deep into their monkey eyes and seeing the intelligence that dwelt there. Actually, I swear that I have seen less awareness in the eyes of some of our politicians.

Yesterday we did the touristy thing, like go to the villages to view the artisans works, see the temples and the countryside. Well worth the trip, but of course we had to buy some of the local wares. I would like to place the blame for most of this upon Bonnie’s shoulders, but she may read the blog and note that I had taken some liberties with the truth. Our first stop was at a shop where they had done wood carvings for many generations. In fact, they had only carved for the temples until the 1980’s, and some of their work is quite spectacular. We spent considerable time admiring the numerous pieces, and then decided upon a small carving which we could bring back with us. We were sort of like kids in a candy store, we had a very difficult time choosing.This is not a picture of the carving which we chose, as it was about four feet tall. It was carved from a single piece of wood, including the cage for the chicken. There is also a chicken carved inside the cage, as well as the chicken on top. Even the weaving pattern of the cage itself has been carved. It is interesting to note that only the men of the family carve, but the women do the finishing work, such as the sanding and polishing. The middle aged lady who assisted us, was descended of some of the carvers, both her father and grandfather were carvers there. In fact, it was a carving done by her father which we chose.

Our next stop was to a temple, one of the oldest in Bali. It began life as a Buddhist temple in the ninth century, and then carried on as a Hindu temple in the eleventh century, and carried on, side by side until 1917, when a volcanic earthquake toppled the statue of Buddha. There are plans to restore the statue when funding is available. The Hindu temple is primarily a cave, which is known as the Elephant temple. This is in itself somewhat interesting, as there have never been elephants in Bali, and the answer to this question is that it was named for the Elephant river, which is nearby. Of course, this does little to explain how the river came to be named. The Hindu religion seems to have a God for every occasion, and even have one in the form of an elephant — sort of. It is called Ganesha, and has the body of a woman, and the head of an elephant. I believe that I might have gone to school with this girl, or maybe she had the body of an elephant, and the head of a woman. It was a long time ago, you know. Either way, she probably had a wonderful personality. The Balinese tend to utilize any area that is suitable for growing rice, to do just that, and there are rice paddies on the temple grounds. Of course, we had to tour these as well. All went well, and as these were very old paddies, there was even a concrete walk separating two off the paddies, well all went well until I decided to capture this Kodak moment with a picture of Bonnie and our guide. In my best artistic efforts to capture the perfect effect, I stepped off the concrete walk and into the paddy. The difficulty here was that the first step was about four feet, and I was doing it by means of a half-gainer. I managed to keep my camera air side up and out of harms way, as I assumed a horizontal position amongst the rice stalks. The next thing I heard was Bonnie screaming, no doubt concerned for my well being. Well not screaming exactly, more like loud laughter, showing a most cheerful disposition that is seldom displayed. Now if “she who laughs” expects that I should hurl myself into a rice paddy on a daily basis, so that she may start each day on an up note, she has another thought coming. I have to draw the line somewhere. Now I don’t know how many of you have recently strolled through a rice paddy, but they keep those puppies wet. This makes about an eight inch layer of mud on the bottom from which it is most difficult to break the death grip of suction. Were it not for the assistance of our able guide, I may well have been compelled to stay there for another month, when the fields are drained for harvest. The above picture shows Bonnie and our guide. Her great smile is still laughter, and as I had to wash my shirt and mud encrusted sarong before this shot was taken, you can see just how amused she was, but note that the camera still works. When I returned my “rent-a-sarong” I quickly slipped it in with the rest of the bunch. It was still quite wet, and I didn’t wish them to think me incontinent as well as stupid.

Another stop, another temple. This one with special healing waters. Too hard to redirect the Ganges all the way from India, so the ancient priests found a river of their own. As it happened, the day that we were at the temple, was also a day of the full moon. That means that it is the day that you are supposed to bring gifts to the priests, and have a splash in the sacred waters. Quite frankly, I had had enough of splashing in the water for one day, so I was avoiding both polls and paddies. Bonnie couldn’t see her way to participate without getting her hair wet, and that is a no – no, so we left this festive occasion to the locals. I didn’t notice any new Lamborghinis parked in front of the priests, so their gifts seemed to lean more towards food and such.

One of the high spots of our little tour, was a trip to the mountains. No pun intended. When we got up to the top of a viewing mountain, we would have a scenic vista of the tallest mountain in Bali. It also happen to be a volcano, but you can’t hold that against it, many mountains in the area are volcanic. Unfortunately, by the time we got to the summit of our mountain, the torrential rains were in full force. We took this un-Kodak moment to have some food at a view point restaurant. The nice part now was that everyone was wet, and I didn’t look out of place at all. Not only that, but as we were eating, the deluge ceased long enough to take a few pictures. The return trip back to Ubud took us through some of the area of Bali where they grow fruit and spices, as well as passed some older rice paddies which had been terraced into the hillsides. All in all, a mostly pleasant and eventful day. Our driver was great and had rather a good command of the English language. This being rather good as our command of Balinese amounts to zip. It is back to our hotel and a good nights sleep, for who knows what tomorrow has in store.

.

Off to Ubud

Something that I neglected to mention when I was telling about my Amazon Kindle, was that as well as books, you could also subscribe to some magazines and newspapers. In addition, it has the ability to be used as a MP3 player. Just think, I could load up the device with “Sweatin’ with the Oldies” tunes, dress up in my silk gym shorts, and do jumping jacks with Richard Simmons. Now is this not a disgusting picture? Maybe I’ll just stick to loading books into my Kindle.

Another form of exercise, here in the tropics, is strolling on the beach, and Bonnie tries to encourage me to participate in this endeavor whenever possible. However, if I am compelled to ogle another pair of naked, sun burnt, European bosoms, while holding my breath until my face turns purple and my chin is covered with drool, it will be too soon, exercise or not. Bonnie is the one with the disgusted look on her face, trying to keep far enough ahead of me so that no one realizes that we are together. At one point I thought that perhaps these ladies were unable to afford both parts of their swim suits, and I felt bad for their poverty, but then it came to me that these were not locals who were sun burning, but travellers, and if they could afford airline tickets they should be able to afford an entire swimsuit. It now appears that they intentionally dressed this way. Perhaps this is a testing ground for a new allied military strategy, as I read somewhere that if a male individual who was a follower of Islam beheld a naked infidel woman, he was compelled to commit suicide, or poke his eyes out with a sharp stick, or something like that. If it works here they may try this strategy in the mid east.

Tomorrow we are moving to Ubud, a city in the inland area of Bali, so I will not have to subject myself to beach time … or Bonnie poking out my eyes with a sharp stick.

Also didn’t mention that on our “temple tour”, the second temple which we visited was guarded by monkeys … many many monkeys. Now one of the deities of the Hindu faith is sort of a monkey man type of dude, and he is one of the good guys, so the monkeys have pretty much a run of the temple. On the upside, they are plentiful, plus they will work for peanuts. Much of the peanuts are supplied by the tourists, as the monkeys have learned that if they take something from the tourists, (such as glasses etc.), the tourists will trade peanuts to get their items back. There are, of course, vendors who will sell you peanuts at the entrance gate. Rather a symbiotic relationship, methinks.

We are quite enjoying Bali, the people are friendly and informative and the ones at our hotel have been very helpful. The food has a flavor of its own, (as we have found in all of Asia), with some different spices and methods of preparation. There doesn’t appear to be the variety of fruit available in Bali that there was in Thailand, but they do have Durian. It looks a bit different than that which I sampled in Thailand, and a bit smaller, but I’ll not probably give it the comparison test.

Not certain what our itinerary entails today as my social convener has not yet arisen. It is just as well, as it is raining at the moment, and that sometimes causes her to be “a little bit grumpy”. At least that is the way it seems to work in Sidney, but we shall see what we shall see.

Take care, and we will keeps you posted as time and internet permit.

T

Beautiful Bali

Our flight to Bali goes via Kuala Lumpur, in Malaysia, where we have a five hour layover between flights. As we entered the airport at Kuala Lumpur, I became quite concerned that we had made a wrong turn and had arrived in Mecca. There were no camels, but there were Muslims everywhere. Now having a five hour layover gave me considerable time for study, and I came to several conclusions. Firstly, I have determined that it is hair, on women, which the Muslims deem so offensive, for there were women of the faith who were dressed in a very contemporary fashion, to those dressed in burkhas, and that which they had in common was a covering for their hair. Now the more fashionable young ladies wore sleeveless shirts, skirts to their knees, and high heels —- but they had their hair respectfully covered by colorful silk scarves. The more traditional attire comprised a long dress, to the ankles, and a head scarf of a heavier material. My thoughts are that these women probably had hairy arms and legs, and so kept them covered as well. There were also similarly dressed ladies who additionally kept the lower portion of their faces covered with a portion of their scarves, this perhaps to hide some unwanted facial hair, such as a mustache or a wispy beard. Now we come to those ladies encased in a burkha. They must be some kind of ugly, for in addition to the aforementioned furry bits, they must also be blessed with a luxurious “uni-brow”, like a giant caterpillar crawling above their eyes. This requires that even their faces must be hidden, and so they must look at life through a mesh screen, much like the dude in the mascot chicken costume at the US football games. The Muslim men are not subjected to the same restrictions, and most have no discernible dress code at all. Some men sported a little beanie, and a few wore long dresses to their ankles. I don’t believe that the latter were “girly guys”, as they wore no make-up. It can’t be a hair thing with the men, as many of them also proudly sported “ratty” little beards, All this serious thought managed to make time fly, and before we knew it, it was time for our flight on to Bali.

Our plane arrived without mishap, our luggage intact, no trouble at customs, and an easily found taxi to take us to our hotel. Talk about smooth, and much appreciated after what turned into a long day. Not only that, but we have a very nice hotel, on the beach, with most helpful and friendly staffing. Things are looking quite good.

Bali sits about six points south of the equator and is a tad warmish. Add to this the part about this being their rainy season and the humidity reaches the saturation point. I can work up a nasty sweat just trying to get out of my own way, so I don’t try to move too often. This gave me time for another thought regarding the ladies in the burkhas, particularly as the color of choice appears to be basic black. Sort of the “little black dress” thing I guess. Anyway, I got thinking that if I was encapsulated in a tent like thing, someone would have to hit me with a pressure washer before I could even climb into the shower. Possibly the people here don’t perspire, but I can’t see it. Now all this would make a very clever disguise for anyone who was up to no good, as first of all it would be nearly impossible to casually determine the sex of the individual, and then no one would want to get close enough to really find out. I guess that I will just have to watch for people in burkhas who are trying to set their Adidas on fire.

Now far be it for me to gloat about anything, well — unless I had an audience,— or if I was alone,— or with someone, — well any way I must tell you about the nifty gift my grandchildren got me for Christmas. I suspect with considerable input from the bank of “mom and dad”. The gift is an Amazon Kindle. For those of you who are as technically challenged as my own self, the “Kindle” is an e-book system put out by Amazon. It is about the size of a paperback and about 3/8 of an inch thick. It ways 10.2 oz. Through the cellular telephone network, one can download books from Amazon, (and others), at a cost significantly less than bookstore rates, and can do this from over 100 countries. It will download a book in under a minute, and the cell phone costs are included in the price. Neat eh? I have over fifty books downloaded for my holiday entertainment, and the little rascal still only weighs 10.2 oz. Much easier on the luggage — and the back

Got some nice snaps of Bali sunsets, and some of the local highlights as well. Did a bit of a touristy tour yesterday. Took in a couple of old Hindu temples that were constructed in about the eleventh century.. Not at all like the temples that we saw in Thailand, or those we saw in Cambodia. These were more spread out, and built upon little rocky spots on the sea shore. The sound of the crashing waves possibly offered some degree of tranquility, or perhaps it was just that they were here first and wanted the spot with the best view. Quite nice at any rate. Followed this up with a dinner at a beach restaurant. Lobster, crab, prawns, clams and mussels, plus a fish with its head still on. Oh yes, a couple of glasses of a “made in Bali” wine, all this for about the price of a bottle of wine in Canada. Now the local wine was not that bad, and “she who shops” actually ate some of the fish, and enjoyed it, even though it was still looking at her.

We are enjoying the pace here in Bali, and will move to another area in a few days. Will keep you posted at any rate.

T