It's not you TripAdvisor, it's us

This rant has been a long time coming, but recently came to head as I've been planning a major family trip to Indonesia that needs to make six people happy. I reluctantly turned to TripAdvisor for inspiration; not because I inherently dislike TripAdvisor - it's a useful platform and it helps to keep the travel industry honest; the problem is the reviewers.

I've personally contributed several reviews to TripAdvisor and there are a lot of high quality reviews out there - but you need to settle down with glass of wine and prepare to do some work to find them. I long ago accepted that a brief glance at the overall rating is virtually useless. The frustrations listed here primarily relate to reviews I've encountered within Asia. I have no idea if TripAdvisor is more reliable if you're planning a trip to NYC.

Expectation management

 

Just because something is called 'Coconut Grove Holiday Beach Resort' does not necessarily mean that there are coconuts, a beach or it is even a resort. Far too often I stumble upon a review that says something like, 'we booked this resort because it was $10 a night, when we arrived it there was no AC and it was on a busy main road 10 minutes walk from the beach.'

Not $10 a night, but for a very reasonable $70 you can get a deluxe suite.

While I kind of sympathise, did you really think that $10 was going to get you the full resort experience including a swim-up bar and a spa? Nice things still cost more, even in Asia.

So the lesson here is, don't write a review focused entirely on your disappointment, tell me if it was any good relative to the kind of property it was realistically aspiring to be. For $10 a night, I want to know about the bed bug situation not the lack of concierge.

The inverse is true too, don't tell me you had a superb three course meal in an excellent restaurant owned by a celebrity chef but then you were put out when the bill topped $40.00 and give it a stingy 2 star review. I've never known a restaurant (or hotel) to refuse to let you view prices before agreeing to eat or stay in a place. If you ended up spending more than you wanted, that's on you. If the food or service was disappointing, then please tell me all about it.

Southeast Asia is still exceptionally good value, but it's not free and you shouldn't expect it to be.

The weather 

 

I am well aware of how truly devastating bad weather can be on vacation. On our first trip to Borneo, we planned to wrap up the trip with a few days at the beach. As we were driving to our resort, it was so dark, rainy and miserable at mid-day that the automatic streetlights switched on. This really took the shine off things.

But (and repeat this with me) the weather is not the fault of the hotel, resort etc. I've read far too many reviews about a hotel where the reviewer has given a place a really low score, only to then read something like, 'the hotel was really lovely and the staff friendly and helpful, but it rained the whole time.'

Odds are you took a gamble and came in the rainy season, didn't do your homework or just had bad luck. It's the tropics, it rains. Either way, it's both unhelpful and unfair to write a review like this. Stick to the (relevant) facts.

Beating up on local staff

 

This is the most cringe-worthy sin. PJ O'Rourke tells a story of being in South Africa in the late-80s, begging and pleading with the Afrikaans speaking waiter to please bring him a fork. He instead slowly amasses a large collection of drinking vessels and spoons. On the verge of losing his temper, O'Rourke finally has the good grace to eat his chicken with a spoon and leaves a massive tip for the beleaguered waiter.

(In full context this story is a more complex parable of South Africa at the end of Apartheid.) But there is another, less complex lesson to be taken here: if you are unable to communicate with the staff in a foreign country, that is your problem, not theirs. There's a big difference between a waiter mixing up your order because he/she can't understand you and actual bad service. Sometimes the two overlap to be sure. But, unless you're paying an extortionate sum of money to shield yourself from suffering any local inconvenience or  hassle by staying at the Ritz or Four Seasons, then cut your local staff some slack. You're on their turf and miscommunication is all part of the experience.

Expecting everything to be the same as at home

 

Americans are particularly guilty of this one. Again, it's all about the context. Being wildly disappointed by something because it is different to what you are used to might suggest you're better suited to armchair travel. A review that starts something like, 'X is like this at my favorite restaurant at home, but it's completely different here!' Look around Dorothy, you're not in Kansas anymore. Comparisons can be helpful, but what's that old saying about 'apples and oranges'?

Foreign food

 

I know everybody wants to be a 'foodie' and instagraming your every meal (I'm guilty) has become an international pastime, but if you are a fussy eater, please just confess. If you hate spicy food, just say so. Can't get into Asian cuisine? Fine. Terrified of spending your whole trip on the toilet and therefore feeling unadventurous? Just let us know a few things about you before you set yourself up as the next Anthony Bourdain.

A friend and I were in Hanoi last year and we wanted to find something special for our last night in Vietnam. For a little context - we were both adventurous eaters with guts of steel and had been blown away by the food in Vietnam thus far. We weren't hunting for a decent pizza to pull us through a final meal.

We skimmed TripAdvisor and found that the highest ranked restaurant in Hanoi was nearby and we went to check it out. For both of us the first red flag was that it was a hotel restaurant. A universal truth of international travel is that hotel restaurants are generally disappointing. It was tidy and soulless; the menu a nod to the white-people favorites of Vietnamese cuisine - spring rolls and pho - the rest was the usual generic Chinese food (think of it as going to Germany and ordering spaghetti bolognese or Ceasar salad.) It was inconceivable to us that this was the best Hanoi had to offer.

We bailed and had a few beers and settled into toddler-size plastic chairs in a gutter somewhere (much to the amusement of the locals) and gorged on whatever the locals were eating. Maybe the hotel restaurant really was great, we'll never know, but I've learned to trust my instincts and despite the glowing reviews it screamed mediocrity.

Read between the lines

 

This is one for those looking for helpful reviews. Newsflash: Everything you read on the internet isn't true. And most things you read on the internet should be taken with a pinch of salt. Before putting blind faith in the opinion of a complete stranger do a little detective work.

For instance, where are they from? When we lived in Malaysia, I was fully aware that the qualities I might look for in a hotel or resort might be completely different from a Malaysian. For example, one of the first things we tend to confirm is the availability of alcohol. I would view a tropical vacation without a few cold beers as genuinely devastating. A Malaysian might not even notice this.

Also, how old are they? Did they have children with them? What kind of budget are they on? Is this reviewer a notorious grump - is everything they've ever reviewed just a string of complaints? And most importantly, have they committed any of  the above sins?

Take those things into consideration and you'll have a lot more success in finding reviews that are helpful to your situation. (Trip Advisor does have reviewers create personal profiles, check people out, see if they are similar to you).

 Trust the pros (within reason)

 

I'm aware that people reviewing on TripAdvisor aren't professionals, but neither am I, I'm just asking for a little common sense and thoughtfulness. That's also why TripAdvisor is never going to put the likes of Lonely Planet and Rough Guides out of business. The big boys don't get it right every time - far from it (I distinctly remember binning a copy of Lonely Planet's Southwest England guide). But they usually do two very important things: they manage your expectations and keep things in context; that way when they do misfire, it's pretty easy to read between the lines.

The good, the bad and the ugly.

2 posts in under a week! I'm really hoping to get this blog back on track for awhile. I've been pretty lousy at it lately, but we had a huge summer (literally, we both came back from a three-week trip to America significantly heavier than when we left) and then the start of the academic year was upon us and so it goes.

Anyway, as our time in Malaysia grows shorter (61 days!) I'm starting to see everything in two categories: what I will miss, and what I will not. Let's take a look:

Things I will miss:

The lovely, lovely weather. 90 degrees every day, guaranteed.

The food. In no particular order: yam basket, banana leaf curry, laksas of all sorts, hokkien mee, steamboat, Chinese pork ribs, salted chilies, the list goes on . . . .

Cheap stuff. Especially: food, haircuts, the vet, gasoline, (really nice) hotels, taxis, the cinema, massages.

Regional travel. So much to see and do, in three years we have covered: Cambodia, Laos, Vietnam, India, Myanmar, Singapore, Indonesia x 2, Thailand x 4 and several good romps around Malaysia including a few trips to Borneo and some totally gorgeous islands.

Cheap regional airfare. Or how else would we have managed the above? AirAsia, I love you.

Under the sea. This part of the world has possibly made snorkeling my new favourite activity. Rays, octopus, starfish, clownfish, amazing corals. Can't get that just anywhere.

Wildlife. Orangutans, elephants, proboscis monkeys, hornbills, giant lizards, sea turtles. Even the little geckos.

Having a swimming pool. There is a very nice pool about 20 feet from my front door.

Thunderstorms. Totally epic, torrential, noisy, tropical thunderstorms.

Never ever being cold. You know what it's like to get out of bed at 7am in January in Illinois? I don't.

About a billion public holidays. When you observe Muslim, Christian, Buddhist, Hindu and national/state holidays that adds up to a lot.

The diversity. There's a lot of different people here. I like that.

*And this really goes without saying, but of course all of our amazing Malaysian and fellow expat friends who we've met along the way.

Things I will not miss:

Driving. Everything about it.

Trying to get stuff done. It's so hard to get the simplest things done here sometimes. Want to pay your internet bill? Must call them up and do it over the phone (Oh! The irony). Need a plumber? Take three consecutive days off work and pray he shows up by the third day. Want to deposit a cheque? Good luck finding the 'special' deposit machine for foreigners.

Calling strangers on their mobile. See above. Lots of businesses and tradesmen are not online, so you can't look them up online or book an appointment. Instead, you ask around, you get some guy's mobile number and hope for the best.

Bureaucracy. There is a form and a supplementary price for everything.

Negotiating. I hate haggling and negotiating, I don't want to be ripped off and I don't want to rip you off. Just tell me the real (fair) price.

Sugar. It's in everything.

Spitting, hawking, chewing, slurping. I know it's a cultural thing, but I don't like it.

Littering. Is there really no space in your car for that empty packet of crisps? Really?

Cockroaches. Really big ones.

Lack of personal space. The pushing, shoving, me-first battle of boarding a plane, train or just standing in what passes for queue here.

No means no. If I said I don't want to buy it, I really mean it. Also, don't follow me around the store.

Palm oil plantations. Please, please stop destroying your beautiful country.

Sopping wet toilets. With or without footprints on the seat, this really irritates me. If part of your bathroom ritual basically involves taking a shower, that's fine. Just please wipe up the mess.

And did I mention DRIVING?

The best of Southeast Asia, so far.

We are mere weeks away from having been here for 2.5 years. This quarter decade anniversary has prompted to me look back and think about all the amazing things we've seen, done - and eaten since our arrival here. This list is perhaps a bit pre-mature, we've seen but a tiny sliver of what this part of the world has to offer - and we haven't even been to Vietnam or Sri Lanka yet - and we've barely scratched the surface of huge countries like Indonesia (although we are adding another drop in that bucket in about two weeks time).

So, I'm going to look back at some of the best stuff we've done over the last 2.5 years.  I am excluding India from this exercise partly because India is not technically part of Southeast Asia - but mostly because India just overwhelms everything - it is a category unto itself.  Obviously these opinions are my own, but I'd love to hear alternative suggestions and thoughts from those who have done similar and different excursions in the region. Here's a few of the 'best of's' I've decided to look at:

• Best food
• Best beer
• Best beaches
• Best scenery
• Best temples
• Best wildlife
• Best city
• Best markets
• Best museum

I'm going to start with a couple of the easier ones in the hope that maybe we'll have completed our next Indonesian adventure before I pass judgement on a few things!

Anyway, let's get started:

Best beer: Beer Lao - no doubt about it. This beer, with good reason, is the pride and joy of Laos.  It lacks the high sugar content (as well as accompanying hangover associated with other Asian beers - I'm thinking Tiger and Kingfisher) and is reminiscent of a quality Eastern European pilsner - which isn't surprising considering Beer Lao started out as a joint-venture between the government of Laos and Czech brewers. Beer Lao isn't nearly as available outside of Laos as it should be (although I've now spotted it in Thailand and Myanmar) but if it does pop up at your local liquor store make sure you try it.

Best food: This is extremely difficult - and easy.  Cambodia and Myanmar both did their level best to kill me, they are not in the running.  Despite a genuine love for Javanese bakso and tempe goreng, Indonesia barely ranks.  I had a genuinely delicious $7 steak in Laos, but again, not enough to earn to the top spot. Perhaps rather predictably, this is a dead heat between Thailand and Malaysia.  In the end I'm going to swing to Malaysia just for the sheer diversity of the food available here.  The Malay/Chinese/Indian combo is pretty much unbeatable and I've developed a deep, deep love for the Chinese-style seafood that you get here (and yam baskets).

If I was going to narrow it down to a single place, I'd probably even bypass Penang and go for Kuching - the area is home to dozens of family-run seafood restaurants which aren't much to look at but they have some the freshest and tastiest seafood I've ever encountered (this is coming from someone who spent four years in Scotland guzzling the world's finest oysters - I love my seafood.)  More sophisticated options are also in abundance, if you ever happen by there an evening spent at Bla, bla, bla is totally worth it.

More favorites in the next installment.

Thai travels

Southern Thailand is everything that it says in the travel guides - long white sand beaches, stunning limestone karts, cheap beer, good food (think fresh crab & papaya salad, roast duck noodle soup, pad thai) and teeming with tourists. Teeming. If you are looking for a quiet idyllic retreat you need to be prepared to shell out the big bucks for a fancy resort or head down the road less travelled to some off-beat nook in Indonesia. Southern Thailand has been so thoroughly 'discovered' that even the backpackers have mostly moved on.

There is very little that is uniquely, culturally 'Thai' about Southern Thailand, unless you consider Thailand's exemplary ability relatively efficiently cater to first-world tourists in a third-world infrastructure. The South is not the more genteel cultural (but still touristy) destination of the North, it is unabashedly 100% for tourists, period.

There are probably more white people on any given beach in Thailand than on just about any given city street in London. It was utterly bizarre to so suddenly rejoin the ethnic majority.

The majority of tourists are German, French and British and as an American it's always refreshing to be reminded that not all Europeans are as refined and sophisticated as they would have you believe.  I saw more tramp-stamped, obese bikini-clad women, and coconut-oiled, flabby speedo-strutting men since my summers manning the snack bar at the local public pool.  This is the Ibiza of Asia - where Euro-trash comes to roost in the Mediterranean off-season.

Okay, this has gotten more negative than I intended. Like I said, it's stunningly beautiful (really) and a with a bit of know-how you can put some decent distance between yourself and the hordes.  The beaches are crowded - there is no getting around that - but rent a kayak, go for a hike or hire a private boat (which doesn't cost much more than going on one of the jam-packed, all-day snorkeling tours anyway) and before long you've left the circus behind.

Krabi is a mere 1 hour and 15 minute flight from KL, so as an escape from the big city, endless oil palm plantations and Malaysia's grimy West Coast beaches (Langkawi excepted) on the oil-slick shipping lanes of the Straits of Malacca - it's a pretty excellent retreat. If it was my one shot at a big trip to Asia though, I'd probably be a bit disappointed. 

Would I go back? You bet.

24 hours in London

Having survived the 13 and a half hour flight from KL to London, my re-entry into the western world for the first time in 417 days went pretty smoothly.  Even Heathrow was kind to me and I was through immigration and had my bags in 30 minutes.

I hopped on the wildly overpriced ($30.70 for a one way-ticket) but super convenient Heathrow Express and 15 minutes later I was at Paddington Station.  A quick glance at the Tube map (Bakerloo to Victoria - how could I have forgotten?) and I was bound for Brixton - a trendy London borough which had a bit of reputation the last time I hauled out to South London (2003) that is known for it's Afro-Caribbean flavor. Gentrification has set in the last 9 years and now it's one of the trendiest, most diverse and almost affordable places to live in London.

Like other major cities around the world, Londoners are not particularly famed for their friendliness. But in the nearly two years since I was last in the UK, I had completely forgotten about that unfailing, unrelenting habit British people have of saying 'please' and 'thank you'.  (In Malaysia, you simply get 'can' or 'cannot' in response to virtually every question - or statement.) I had also completely forgotten about the British love of forming a queue.

My route to Brixton involved a change at Oxford Street - London's premier shopping district - at 6:00 on a Saturday with only three weeks until Christmas.  I was gobsmacked by the orderliness of it all.  Anywhere in Southeast Asia (Singapore excepted) this would have resulted in a massive free for all - pushing, shoving, elbowing, stomping on feet - but instead people waited patiently for passengers to exit (what a concept!) and then in an orderly fashion we crammed ourselves into the carriage, while others waited patiently on the platform for the following train that was just a minute or two behind.

It was bliss. I can't remember the last time I felt that relaxed on public transportation!

I arrived in Brixton and met up with my dear friend and hostess, Rachel, and we set off for a delightful little restaurant called Honest Burger in Brixton Village (If you like a good old-fashioned burger, a touch on the rare side with delicious toppings such as cranberry relish, fried camembert, watercress and poppy seeds - this is the place for you.)

Our walk to Brixton Village brought me face to face with a crosswalk (or to be a Brit about it, zebra crossing).  We approached the crosswalk and Rachel just strolled into the street.  I remained glued to the pavement, braced for Rachel's swift and sudden demise by a car careening down the street at approximately 200 miles an hour.  She got across, I looked up, noticed a car waiting patiently for me to cross and she said, 'what the hell are you doing?' It all came rushing back, and I thought to myself, 'I could play at the this zebra crossing all day.  It's amazing.'

My 24 hours in London went by all too quickly, and now I'm in Chicago - London's chief rival for my affection (London or Chicago, I can never settle on a favorite)..

Anyway, since my return I've been maintaining a list of wonderful things I've forgotten about and/or previously took completely for granted:

• toilet paper
• dry bathrooms (with no muddy footprints on the toilet seat)
• real napkins that are not made of tissue/toilet paper
• knives in restaurants
• large gaps between cars travelling at high speeds
• a strict adherence to red lights and other traffic signals
• a complete lack of illegal parking
• people who walk at an acceptable speed (no Malaysian shuffle here!)

In short, I don't mean for this to sound like some anti-Asia rant, it's just really, really good to be home. 

Oh and for the record, I am completely embracing the cold weather.  It's so refreshing.

Super sweet-tooth

When people ask me what I like most about living in Malaysia,  I have two answers ready: the weather and the food.

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The weather bit is pretty self-explanatory, what's not to like about a year-round tropical climate where you only need a wardrobe for one season and can spend every weekend lounging poolside or go to the beach on a whim?

Now not everyone would enjoy the food as much as we do - particularly if you have an aversion to spicy food (or fried stuff).  The food in Malaysia is much like the people - diverse.  It's an amazing blend of Chinese, South Indian and Malay cuisines - everything from deep-fried yam baskets stuffed with chili chicken to banana leaf curries to rich, spicy coconut-based soups full of ginger and lemongrass.

My preferences for Malaysian food definitely reside with the spicy, savoury stuff - but Malaysians are quite famous for having a bit of a sweet tooth and their deserts range from the bizarre to the truly disgusting.

Let me start by saying these people love sugar.  Love. They put it - in vast quantities - in everything.  Breads, juice, coffee, tea, even batter for frying. The sugar craze is so out of control that there are actual public service announcements telling people to limit the amount of sugar they put in their tea.  I've even heard that there are restrictions on how much sugar one can buy in a single trip to the supermarket.

Just yesterday, we went for a Sunday stroll in the park which was brimming with all sorts of vendors selling cold drinks, chips, popsicles and in once instance, what was quite literally an ice cream sandwich - a hot dog bun filled with three scoops of ice cream.

It gets worse.  Another common dish is a tropical fruit salad that has a dressing comprised of sugar, peanuts, chili and  . . . . shrimp paste.

Creamed sweet corn and red beans are also frequently featured as a topping for desserts like cendol (chen-dole) which is essentially shaved ice with coconut milk and these slimy, green worm-like noodles made from rice flour and pandan.

A lot of what I find so off-putting about Asian deserts is that they lack the sweet/savory distinction that is so  prevalent in Western cuisine - there is also often an issue of texture, I think the photo says it all.

I'm not a remotely fussy eater - and frequently blindly put myself into the hands of my Malaysian friends and trust that they aren't going to feed me anything that will kill me - but I drawn the line at slimy desserts. 

There's plenty of scary savoury stuff out there too, I was chatting to a colleague from Spain the other day who said, 'I quit eating wildlife after some tribesmen fed me monitor lizard.'  We all have our tipping point.

Thai tales

Apologies for the hiatus, but I've been on the road ticking off a few more stops on my endless travel checklist. 

My most recent adventure took me to Thailand's second city, Chiang Mai.

Chiang Mai is not the image of Thailand that probably pops into your mind.  No tropical islands with sandy beaches, sparkling water and all night parties.  Instead think dense jungle and limestone mountains - at a glance northern Thailand seems to have more in common with Laos or Northern Burma than its own vibrant southern half.

Chiang Mai is about as laid back as an Asian city of 150,000 people can be. It's firmly on the tourist trail, but the locals seem to have (mercifully) adopted an attitude of laid-back indifference rather than the in-your-face and buy-my-stuff approach.

The city is old - established in 1296 parts of the original city walls still stand and the old town is mostly surrounded by a large moat.  Colourful Buddhist temples abound and when temple fatigue has settled in there are plenty of places to drop in for a cold (and cheap) beer.  It goes without saying really that the food is superb and the choices endless.

As usual, the best stuff is often the cheapest - pad thai, mussel omelettes, double-fried radish, crispy pork, spicy grilled beef from the local street vendors is pretty much a no-brainer.  I'm also pleased to report no tummy troubles on my end, but I think I'm developing immunity to some Asian bugs - a few of my less-indoctrinated travel companions didn't fare quite as well - but were genuine troopers nonetheless.

Perhaps the real highlight of Chiang Mai is the Sunday Walking Market.  The market is exactly as it sounds - every Sunday at 4:00 the major thoroughfares of the city centre are shut down and vendors hawking food, clothes, jewelry, trinkets, paintings and more set up camp for the evening.  Tourists and locals alike ply the streets in search of a good bargain - and at Thai prices bargains abound.

I've been to enough markets that I generally consider myself immune to the temptations of the same old stuff - but even I picked a up a beautiful handmade bedspread made by the Hmong people who live in the nearby mountains - at a truly extravagant $60.

But one of the main reasons people flock to Chiang Mai is because it serves as the base for some of the best elephant camps and trekking in the world. Hear all about our day with our pachyderm friends in the next installment.

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 For those of you accessing this blog via the Register-Mail don't forget you can access the whole back-catalogue of my travel adventures at www.wherecanigetadrink.blogspot.com .

You can also check out my photos of Chiang Mai.

Jungle fever

When I first announced to my mother that we were moving to Malaysia she had a panic attack accompanied by visions of her precious daughter residing in a terrorist-infested, cholera-ridden slum. 

It took quite awhile to convince her that Malaysia is perfectly safe (far safer than the US actually) and relatively disease-free. Personal safety is something that I have thought about very little since moving here, but for someone who previously rarely got sick - illness has been a fairly constant companion.

Most sickness is exactly what you think (and expect).  Food poisoning. Street food is generally perfectly safe in Malaysia. Common sense rules apply - if there are rats, unclean surfaces, and no soap then you give it a miss. Obviously.

 But, every now and again you get burned.  When we first arrived here we were both mildly ill about once a week (and we lost a ton of weight) but nearly two years in - I can't immediately recall the last time I had a nasty stomach bug.

Early on we went to India - I was there for nearly a month and survived without a single case of 'Delhi belly' as they call it.  This is probably a world record. So after India I was feeling a bit smug. I thought if I could get through India without getting sick, I could eat literally anything, anywhere.

Oh, how wrong I was.

Cambodia has certainly been the worst to date, to this day I don't know the exact source of poisoning, but I lost 7 pounds in 4 days and at the time - I probably would have been okay with just dying.

Unfortunately though, it's not just about dodging stomach bugs.  Malaria has largely been wiped out in peninsular Malaysia and in other developed pockets throughout the region - but it still abounds in much of Borneo and less developed countries like Myanmar.

Dengue fever is still a very real threat and one that thus far we've successfully avoided.

Food-related illnesses aside, I still do tend to just get sick here more often.  I'm currently coming off a viscous cold that has been lingering for nearly a week.  Locals have all sorts of theories on illness, but the most popular source of sickness seems to be air conditioning.  It's ironic, because this is a nation of people who do everything they can to avoid leaving their indoor hovels and love to crank their air conditioners down to sub-zero temperatures.  But then you get sick and they say, 'too much air conditioning, lah.'

Back to Indochina: Vang Vieng

Vang Vieng is quite possibly the backpacker capital of the world - and in my opinion it is rather unfortunate that such a spectacularly beautiful place has been hi-jacked by rowdy bands of 18 year olds. Not that I'm against a bit of fun, but the drawbacks of that being the main tourist demographic has some nasty consequences.

The backpackers turn up in droves to go tubing down the Na Song. This is not our photo, it seemed foolish in the extreme to bring our camera kit on a six hour booze cruise.

Yes, that is a giant slide, and yes people have died on it. We did go tubing one afternoon and certainly had a bit of fun. Once was enough.

The idea is that you get a tube and float down the river stopping off at various bars along the way and risking your life on various rope swings, slides and zip wires. So what was once a beautiful stretch of pristine river and wilderness is now besotted with ear-splittingly loud music and litter. I repeatedly saw kids putting out cigarettes and dispensing beer bottles into the river - which quite frankly I find unforgivable. Make no mistake these are, without exception, middle-class Western kids who are all on a gap year or their winter break. They know better and I suspect the vast majority of them would never do that at home.

Unfortunately the bad behaviour is not confined to the river.  Dress in Laos is generally conservative, the locals do not particularly appreciate girls in skimpy bikinis and shirtless 'bros' strolling around town.

The lack of confidence in their own cuisine, coupled with the catering to 18 year-old white kids leads to a pretty dire food scene. Every restaurant tries to do every cuisine and they don't do any of it well. We did manage to get our hands on some nice bbq river fish and find some decent soup stalls - but I was overwhelmingly underwhelmed. At least cold beer was readily available.

My last gripe before I get to the good stuff - the TV bars. The town is packed with bars showing infinite re-runs of Family Guy and Friends. It's depressing. I mean who travels halfway around the world to watch re-runs of Friends? Hungover teenagers apparently.

It would be easy to think that this was all there was to do in Vang Vieng and that there is no escape from the hordes of teenagers, but respite is remarkably easy to come by. In fact, all you have to do is go across the bridge.

The other side is like stepping back in time, there are small villages and rice paddy fields tucked in amongst the stunning limestone karsts. We rented a small motorbike and spent perhaps the best day of our entire trip winding down dirt tracks taking in the scenery, checking out a few caves and even stopping for a swim at the blue lagoon. The further out you get the fewer the people, in fact we shared the road more often with large (slightly intimidating) herds of water buffalo than people.

Even returning in the evening, it's fairly easy to escape the crowds. Vang Vieng is so saturated with food and accommodation outlets that it would virtually be impossible for every place to be busy at any given time. So after a solid day of exploring (and with remarkably sore posteriors from bouncing up and down on a cheap Chinese motorbike all day) a cold beer in a quiet bar as you watch the sunset over the Nam Song makes for a pretty good ending.

All in all, it was a pleasant few days, very well spent that more than justified the 4+ hours bus journey to go the 96 miles from Vientiane. This is by the way, the best road in the entire country and aside from only being two lanes the entire way and winding through the mountains, I would estimate that - at best - only 2/3rds are paved.

Travel sickness medication highly advised.

Back to Indochina: Vientiane

Anyone who has read the Great Railway Bazaar (or for that matter browsed the most recent edition of the Lonely Planet) will be familiar with the way in which Paul Theroux once famously described Vientiane: 'the brothels are cleaner than the hotels, marijuana is cheaper than pipe tobacco and opium easier to find than a cold class of beer.' The cleanliness of the hotels is still up for debate but the heady days of post-colonial Vientiane in the 1970s is very much a thing of the past.

That isn't to say that Vientiane now lacks charm, but like Phnom Penh, the tourists have arrived and happy days are (economically anyway) here again. I had high hopes for Vientiane, visions of it having all of the charm of Phnom Penh but with fewer tourists. I was dead wrong. Vientiane, and for that matter Laos, is firmly on the Southeast Asia backpacking route. Fortunately - and in spite of the explosion of posh coffee shops, bars and cafes; the locals seem utterly unperturbed - even a bit aloof. Vientiane is so laid back and utterly unpretentious that at first it was quite inconceivable to me that this was a capital city of an entire country.

We set our sights on one of the few actual sites to see in Vientiane, Pha That Luang.

Pha That Luang is the most prominent national monument in Laos. The building seen today only dates from a French reconstruction in the 1930s, but there has supposedly been some form of temple present on the site from the 3rd century. Unfortunately, Laos has been invaded - a lot - so stuff gets destroyed - a lot.

Our first day was happily spent wandering Vientiane on foot and taking in the sites, mainly temples (interspersed with frequent Beer Lao beverage stops.)

We spent day two exploring some of the local markets a bit further afield and were richly rewarded. Not only did we return home with bundles of lovely Lao coffee and fresh green peppercorns, but the markets are almost completely devoid of tourists. All the usual South Asian fare was available: bananas, mangoes, rice, chillies of all shapes and sizes and a few oddities as well, courtesy of the French I suspect.

Vientiane has large ethnic Chinese and Vietnamese minorities, so Chinese New Year celebrations were in full swing. Some friendly 20-something Vietnamese - who either didn't speak a lick of English or were far too intoxicated to remember how to do so, stopped us on our market crawl and force-fed us beer and coconut sweets. I'm sure they would have had us all evening, but we were on a motorcycle and had to make a gracious escape. We also encountered some young kids doing a Lion Dance through the market.

One of the very best things about market shopping in Laos is that while there is indeed all the usual junk - Laos has an absolute abundance of really lovely (not made in China) textiles. The amount of silk is astounding and I resisted the urge to buy some absurdly exotic silk wall-hanging (a lesson learned the hard way some years ago in Morocco when I came back with two silk rugs for the home I still don't have.)

My only real complaint - and this is coming from someone who enjoyed a truly delicious steak (for a whopping $7) at a nice little Belgian bistro - is the food. Or more specifically, the lack of proper Lao food. Burgers, pizza, pasta, sushi are all available to no end - but, except for the odd noodle-soup stand, good local food is far too difficult to come by. There are a handful of street bbqs and a few upscale Lao-fusion restaurants, but on the whole the selection is rather disappointing. We did try a sausage from one of the street food stalls, it was delicious, but we both paid for it a few hours later.

Back to Indochina: Laos

A bit of background

Before returning to the back-catalogue of tales from India, our week in Laos has gone all too quickly and here we are home once again. Needless to say we had an amazing trip and Laos is possibly the most laid-back country on the planet. As anticipated it is very much like Cambodia, but without the hassle (backpackers excluded!)

Both Cambodia and Laos are categorized by the UN with 'Least Developed Country' status. They share similar infant mortality rates (between 55-60 deaths per 1000 births - the ratio in the US is 6:1000). The average life expectancy for both countries weighs in around 60. They have similar literacy rates at just over 72% and most children attend school for 9-10 years. Both countries rank appallingly in the world-wide corruption index (Laos comes in at 154 of 183, Cambodia at 164). Both were French colonies, and it shows, baguettes and cafe culture abound.

On the ground Cambodia appears to be the more developed of the two. In general there is better infrastructure, better roads (not good roads, just better roads), a small, but noticeable middle-class (as well as a small outrageously wealthy elite) and the greatest test of all in Asian development - the presence of Kentucky Fried Chicken. However, that is where Cambodia's edge ends (if you can count KFC as having an edge).

Most strikingly of all, Laos does not appear to be suffering from any of the child protection issues that are the scourge of Cambodia. I could count on one hand the number of begging children encountered in Laos (in Cambodia there were hundreds). There is no evidence of rampant padeophilia (by Westerners), child neglect or abandonment.

In fact, homelessness across the board appeared to be virtually nonexistent as was any evidence of starvation. There is also virtually no harassment and pestering. You are allowed to wander the market without items being shoved in your face, tuk-tuk drivers don't accost you relentlessly and restauranteurs don't stand on the sidewalk trying to lure you in.

Say what you will, but I suspect this culture has something to do with the fact that Laos is a Communist state and the government despite many, many serious flaws (not least that it is a one-party dictatorship in which all other political parties are banned) does manage to provide a very rudimentary social safety net. Laos also has one of the lowest unemployment rates in the world, a meager 2.5%  - ranking it 21 out of 199 putting it way ahead of Switzerland, Germany and the USA.

The Lao government also began encouraging private enterprise in 1986 and since then (with a brief blip from the Asia economic crisis in the late 90s) the Lao economy has grown by more than 6% each year. It is Laos' goal to graduate from Least Developed Country Status by 2020 and they appear to be on track to do so. The Chinese, as in Cambodia, are also on the scene - they are currently spending a whopping $7 billion (USD) to kit out Laos with a high-speed rail linking Vientiane with the Chinese border.

Onto the journey

Well, I'm not going to lie, our journey didn't get off to the greatest start. As if I don't hate flying enough, getting up at 3:00am for 7:45am flight is even worse. Add to that trying to get Ian up and it's like lining cats up for a parade. Anyway, we made it to the airport in plenty of time, had a smooth 2.5 hour flight and were on the ground by 9:30am Vientiane time.

Things did not immediately improve. The Lao government has put a flat rate of $7 for the taxi ride into town. This is by all means an exorbitant sum for this part of the world, but $7 isn't exactly going to break the bank and sometimes you just roll with it. I was ready to roll, Ian was gearing up for a fight. In the end we got the taxi - needless to say, it would have been a lengthy walk into town and a tuk-tuk would have saved us no more than about $2. This did not prevent me hearing about our squandered $7 for the rest of the morning. Pointing out that we really only frittered away a couple of bucks as a tuk-tuk still would have cost money apparently did not help the situation.

We arrived at our accommodation. Now, I'm a pretty hardened traveler and have survived many nights in inferior accommodation, but this was pretty sub-par. As always my first exploration of our new digs took me straight to the bathroom. I was instantly swarmed by mosquitoes (we were to discover that even in the dry season, mosquitoes were still a pretty serious problem) and as I victoriously crushed the life out of one unfortunate skeeter against the bathroom wall, I noticed that a large portion on the bathroom wall was indeed smeared with mosquito guts and blood from previous guests whom had fought the same losing battle. Charming.

The bathroom also had that delightful scent of raw sewage that accompanies one virtually everywhere in Asia and the shower curtain was positively streaked with slimy black mold. Too tired and dirty to care, I hopped in the shower while Ian plugged up gaps in the windows and fans with plastic bags to keep the infestation down and we set off in search of food.

Still bristling from our massive over-expenditure on our taxi fare, we made several aborted attempts to get some food, no way was Ian going to let breakfast set us back another $7! We (I) did eventually locate a small noodle shop, crammed with locals and commanded we stop. We ordered two steaming bowls of Pho and were richly rewarded. We topped up our soups with a dazzling array of condiments: fish sauce, limes, sugar, soy, pickled chillies and no less than two kinds of amazing (super hot) chilli paste. Washed, fed and on the ground holiday could officially begin.

First anniversary

We've officially been in Malaysia for 1 year and 4 days - although I spent a whopping 14 weeks travelling this year, so I suppose I've really only logged about 9 months here.

Realizing how much time we've spent outside of Malaysia - and taking advantage of a three-day weekend, we went to Penang. It was a harrowing 5 hour drive with high-speed tailgating at about 110km an hour the whole way - at one point we ended up immediately behind a six car pile up - no doubt due to the aforementioned high-speed tailgating.

Arriving safely and in one piece we opted for a night in Batu Ferringhi - an unimpressive so-called resort town just outside of George Town which backs onto the busy and polluted waters of the Straits of Malacca. It was nice to be by the sea (worth it just to see a woman in full burqua on a jet ski) - and our real goal wasn't a nice beach holiday but to score some first-rate Chinese seafood.

We cruised around town and as expected found a run-down, slightly dirty, packed little restaurant just meters from the sea serving all manner of crab, prawns and fish. We opted for one of our favourites - sweet & sour chilli crab and we were not disappointed. Stuffed and messy with sauce smeared all over our chops (and in my case, my clothes) we called it a night and primed ourselves for an exploration of George Town the following day.

Compared with it's sister-city Melaka, George Town is both bigger and dirtier (I saw 4 rats in 24 hours). On the plus side, it's considerably less touristy and certainly lives up to it's reputation as a culinary destination.

Rain kept us from wandering and exploring as much as we would have liked - so we hunkered down at some food stalls, stocked ourselves with beer and began several hours of taste-testing some of Penang's most famous fare - from loh bak (deep-fried minced pork wrapped in tofu skin) to Penang laksa and the local (spicier) version of the ubiquitous kway teow (essentially Malaysian pad thai).

After our feast we headed back to the streets and stumbled upon a delightful little bar that is (for those of you who are lucky enough to have been there) almost exactly like Duffy's - same size, layout, decor, and general atmosphere (just Chinese and no Chicago Cubs paraphernalia). We met an Aussie engineer in the oil business, a Dutchman who found himself in Malaysia after his holiday to Thailand was cancelled due to the floods, and a wandering 38 year old American with a penchant for Asian women half his age, an obsession with self-defence and the right to bear arms. We had a grand time.

We did of course squeeze in a couple of cultural attractions as well. We made a brief stop at the Snake Temple - which although not exactly as I envisioned (you know, Raiders of the Lost Ark) but there are a few pit vipers slithering (actually snoozing) at the altars.

We also made an attempt at a tour of the Blue Mansion - a restored home that once belonged to a wealthy Chinese merchant in George Town. While the mansion is certainly impressive, I would not recommend the tour.

For no discernible reason (other than there is probably a gift shop at the end) you aren't allowed to take photos (strictly enforced) and the entire tour is said to take an hour, but after 25 minutes we hadn't gotten out of the foyer and it was too crowded and too hot to hear anything the tour guide had to say anyway. So we bailed and played with the camera out front for a bit instead. The Blue Mansion also operates as a guest house, so clearly the best thing to do would be to plan ahead and just stay there.

Cambodia: Phnom Penh

You'll forgive me for not getting round to this earlier, but no sooner had I sorted the photos from our trip then I was (and still am, now on day 4) struck down with a viscous stomach bug that Cambodia was kind enough to give me as a going away gift.

Dysentery aside, we had a wonderful trip.

We flew in Phnom Penh, expecting a hectic, dirty, still-recovering capital of a desperately poor country. The city is neither dirty (I think it's significantly cleaner than KL) nor is it particularly hectic. I can't quite put my finger on it - or think of a better way to articulate it, but there is a certain 'lift' that is nearly automatic when one departs and Islamic society and arrives in a Buddhist one. Even in the face of pestering tuk-tuk drivers and begging children, there is an undeniably laid-back aura that in my experience is simply non-existent in peninsular Malaysia.

I did a lot of reading about Cambodia before we came, and poor, very poor though it is (the average annual income is around $480) it is already difficult to grasp how far Cambodia has come in the past 30 years. Phnom Penh is teeming with excellent local restaurants, bars and cafes (no chains - yet, get there now!) and the Royal Palace, National Museum and other main city attractions and monuments are in tip-top condition.

Save for the number of street children and a very visible UN presence (child protection, land mine victims, human trafficking, world heritage and of course the ongoing Khmer Rouge trials) it would be just about inconceivable that that just over 30 years ago this was a country that lost 1/7th of its population to the Khmer Rogue, had more bombs dropped on it than were dropped in all of WWII, and that Phnom Pehn itself was nearly entirely evacuated, ransacked and looted.

Indeed given Cambodia's tragic recent history, we made the obligatory trip to the Killing Fields of Tuol Sleng. One of the most striking things about Tuol Sleng, like Auschwitz, is that, it is just a place. A place where people live and work - it's largely surrounded by rice paddy, and rural winding lanes; it is just such an ordinary place. Unlike Auschwitz, none of the buildings still stand, however, it does somehow feel less sanitized than Auschwitz.

The only real monument there is a tall narrow pagoda which has been filled with unearthed human remains and clothes; otherwise it's an area not much bigger than a large backyard by American standards, that has several pits and rather crude wooden signs to point out and describe atrocities or asking you, 'please do not walk through the mass grave'. They have not even paved the path around the Killing Fields - nor have they exhumed all of the mass graves (roughly 10,000 people died here) so that when it rains, bits of clothing, bone and teeth frequently come to the surface.

It was heartbreaking and grim and about all we could take. You can also visit the prison in Phnom Penh, Prison S-21, the most notorious of the Khmer Rogue and where most people who were eventually executed (not so much executed as bludgeoned and beaten, they did not want to waste the bullets) at the Killing Fields were first held.

Having done our duty and soured our morning, we headed for the Russian Market. Like most markets in Asia - it's dank, cramped, sprawling, and full of junk - it's also full of really, really, really cheap clothes. If you look through your wardrobe, you'll probably find a fair few items are 'made in Cambodia.' And if you are prepared to dig, bargain and take a chance that it might not be a perfect fit - you can walk away with a lot of top end designer goods - for literally 90% of the regular retail value. Ian came home with $400 worth of Lacoste & Ralph Lauren shirts (real ones) for $40.00.

We also packed in a trip to the royal palace, had a nice stroll around town, a few drinks at the Foreign Correspondents Club and ate plenty of delicious food (avoiding the platters of deep-fried spiders though!) The food in Cambodia really is terrific and in Phnom Penh you really are spoiled for choice.

A growing trend in Cambodia at the moment seems to be 'charity restaurants' - which are really brilliant - they are proper restaurants, in fact usually very, very nice restaurants. The idea is that they take in street children and rehabilitate them teaching them how to cook, serve, host etc. All profits go to the child rehabilitation programmes and the food and service were outstanding; although, the nicest part was that all of the children (mostly teenagers) seemed really pleased and really proud to be working there - it lacked entirely that horrible patronizing, post-colonial feel.

So went our time in Phnom Penh, we both really would have liked another full day there but everyone and everything we read was so down on it that we thought a day and a half would be plenty. I suppose coming straight from the West one might find it a bit of a shock, but considering we live in KL and my last holiday was to Chennai and Delhi, Phnom Penh was indeed relaxing by any account.

I shall wrap up there, plenty more to come on the temples at Angkor . . .

Borneo: Part 1

We’ve made it Borneo and Ian is greatly reassured by being back on an island. He doesn’t understand land borders and doesn’t like living in a place that has them. In any event, we’ve arrived and although we haven’t really even done anything yet, this is quickly shaping up to be one of my favourite trips.

We landed in Kuching around lunchtime after a lengthy delay due to crashed computer systems in KL and a bumpy ride over the South China Sea. The airport was full of Malay, Chinese, Sarawak natives and a handful of tired, hardened Western travellers with mud-caked boots and dripping with jungle-gear all getting flights either back to civilization or into deepest, darkest Borneo.

I had fairly high expectations for Kuching, as I had (as always) done my homework before coming. My expectations were further heightened when just days after sorting out the final details of our trip I stumbled upon a massive spread in the NYT about Borneo in which the author (a writer for Lonely Planet) had recently not only done a trip that included our exact itinerary, but also stayed in the same guesthouse that just days before we had booked ourselves into.

After a quick taxi ride in from the airport we arrived at our guesthouse and were greeted by Eric, the now-famed guesthouse proprietor from the NYT article. He set us up asked where we were from and proudly displayed for us the recent article that someone had been kind enough to send him from the States.

Our room was just what we required. Luxurious for having it’s own bathroom and AC, but basic in a thoroughly charming way and an absolute bargain at $25 a night. We are a short walk into town, but far enough away to not attract a lot of backpackers and it is mercifully quiet; more or less an adult hostel.

We set out to explore Kuching and it was instantly a refreshing break from KL. Quiet, clean (as little garbage as I have seen anywhere in Asia, save Japan) and we quickly found that drivers even use turn-signals here. Apparently, you come to Borneo for a bit of civilization.

The waterfront along the Sarawak River is incredibly picturesque. Renovated in 1993 it has a wide cobblestone path that winds along the river where there are a few scattered food-stalls serving satay and fruit juice with plenty of locals milling about chatting and relaxing on park benches. Local boats, that look like canoes with a little roof on them ferry people back and forth across the river, including loads of school children. A few fishermen also dot the river and from nearly every point along the path you have an unimpeded view of the impressive Sarawak state capitol building which not totally incongruously alongside little scatterings of traditional Malay homes built on stilts. At sunset the sky went several shades or pink, purple, yellow and orange and little fairy lights came on, lighting the way along the waterfront.

Sarawak is well-known as a place to buy native hand-crafts. Souvenir shops line the streets behind the waterfront, plenty of them selling corny t-shirts and factory made versions of traditional items. Carry on though and you quickly learn to distinguish the tat from the real deal. There is plenty of cool stuff to be had here, local medicine pots, swords, statues to keep away evil spirits and hand-woven textiles. Even better, you can go into these places and the store clerks don’t stalk you and walk around telling you they’ll give you ‘best discount.’ You can browse in peace.

Which brings me round to the locals themselves; we had been told by friends before coming that the locals everywhere in Borneo are incredibly friendly. We believed them but clearly didn’t grasp just how friendly. People constantly say hello to you, not in a pestering way, but genuinely just to say hello and welcome. Little children who can muster up the courage to overcome their shyness love to say hello and give you a vigorous little wave.

There are of course, as everywhere, plenty of other Westerners about, but on the whole this place feels remarkably un-touristy. No crowds, no queues, no hassle. In many ways it’s like a smaller, quieter Melaka.

The food here is absolutely amazing. Everything has the same name as in peninsular Malaysia, but tastes quiet different. Ian had a beef rendang yesterday that was clearly cooked in the same method – melt in your mouth tender with plenty of coconut milk, but the spicing was completely unlike anything we’d had before. We also had the best Kway Teow (which is essentially the Malaysian version of pad-Thai) that we’ve had yet and even our chicken satay was just that little bit different. Perhaps best of all, an ice cold can of Tiger will only set you back about $1.50.

Home Sweet Home

Having spent the last week traversing 3 continents and traveling over 10,500 miles it feels very good to be home (however you want to define it).  Most of all, it feels good to not have a suitcase constantly trailing behind me. It was a mixed trip back, sad as always to leave Chicago but I did manage not one but 2 jaunts into London, getting the chance to potter around the city a bit and catch up with friends.

London to KL was pure misery.  Two hours late departing Heathrow pretty much wiped out my connection time in Abu Dhabi.  I got off the plane at 2:36 am and my next flight departed at 2:50 am.  Miraculously, I somehow made it from the rear of the plane, through security, to the complete other end of the airport (the next to last gate) and onto the plane as they were announcing final, final call.  Credit to Etihad Airways, my luggage even made the connection - I am still grateful and totally impressed.  (I was however at one point certain that I had actually sprinted to my death.  Abu Dhabi to KL was without the question the bumpiest ride I have ever experienced in my long history of flying - not those gentle bumps you can sleep through, the kind where your stomach feels like it's dropped down to your feet.  We bumped along like this for the last 2 hours of the flight, there were sighs of relief and a round of applause when we landed).

I arrived home to a not-quite-tidy flat that Ian has semi-reverted into a bachelor-pad - no toilet paper but copies of Wired magazine littering the bathroom floor and literally no food.  His reign is over.  He did however redeem himself slightly in that in my absence he managed to acquire some decent wine glasses, two floor lamps and his newfound pride and joy

a lovely little lime tree that set us back a mere $9.00!

I too (after stateside trips to Target, Crate & Barrel and Williams Sonoma) returned with a sprinkling of items that make this place look slightly more inhabited including new bathmats, table cloths, placemats and other kitchen implements.  More importantly I returned with a big bottle of gin (thanks mom and Thomas).  We also have our first visitors, a quick shout-out to Nick and Michelle here from Bristol who kindly treated us to banana-leaf curry and a round of beers last night.

I've been back just over 24 hours and asleep for a good deal of it, but have already acquired a fresh sprinkling of mosquito bites.  It's good to be home.

Fruits and Veggies

Despite having had my fair share of food poisioning over the past month (we've been here nearly a month!) the food, as expected, has truly been one of the highlights of the move.  I think my favourite find thus far has got to be what is alternatively called water spinach, morning glory and kangkung or kangkong.

As far as I can gather it is technically a Vietnamese vegetable, but it's everywhere around Malaysia both in the supermarkets and restaurants.  Below is my favourite way of preparing it, but it can also be added to curries or stir-frys etc.

1. Blanch a bundle of kangkong in boiling water, just long enough for it to come back to the boil (this is really imporant, we skipped this step once and the stems ended up a bit on the crunchy side.)
2. Whilst boiling, toss a couple of crushed cloves of garlic into a hot wok with a splash of oil and brown them nicely.  Also, chop finely another couple cloves of garlic.
3. Drain the kangkong well and add to wok with chopping garlic.  
4. Stir-fry for a minute or two and add a good splash of fishsauce and mix to combine.
5. Devour. (I don't think a bit of chopped fresh chili would go amiss as a nice topping or even some crisp fried shallots . . .)

I'm sure this can be found outside of Southeast Asia fairly easily, especially in Asian supermarkets in bigger cities.  That being said, I would bet this was not available in Galesburg, Illinois when I was growing up and would be suprised if it was even available now. 

I still have a whole treasure trove of leafy Asian greens to work my way through and been enjoying the availablity of things like fresh kaffir lime leaves and curry leaves - no more dried leaves for me!  Herbs like holy basil and coriander have a completely different (better) taste to those in the UK and things like lemongrass and galangal don't cost an arm and a leg.  That being said, for every up there are a few downs and I'm sure at some point we will very much start to miss things like asparagus and proper English peas.  Tomatoes are a bit on the expensive side and mostly taste like those horrible Tesco Value Dutch greenhouse grown ones you get in the UK.  I'm holding out hope though as our local grocery stores seem to cater mostly to the Chinese and Malays, if I can find a good supermarket in Brickfields on Little India I may find that the Indians have horded all the good tomatoes for themselves.

It's the same story again for fruits - pineapple, starfruit, mangoes, bananas, papaya, limes and durien (YUCK) are widely available and incredibly cheap.  Strawberries appear to be widely imported from the US (Driscoll's) and raspberries I assume simply can't even survive the shipping process.  Lemons also don't do particularly well as it is a bit too damp for them and blueberries go the same way as the raspberries. 

Fruit and veg does also go off incredibly quickly due to the heat (and for not being genetically-modified I suspect) so it does mean a daily trip to the store, which is fine while I'm not working but I suspect we'll be eating out a lot more when I get a job.

8 days a week

Phew, it's amazing how busy one can remain when you have to squeeze in plenty of sun-bathing, swimming, cocktails and shopping into each day.  We are officially installed into our new condo, pics to come but waiting until we get some furniture first.  In the mean time, this is where I enjoy my daily swim, a mere twenty feet from our front door.

Shopping in KL puts any American city to shame.  There are so many malls I can't keep them straight, they have all blended into one.  And it's never just one mall, it's usually about 4 malls linked together or at the very least is a 'megamall' which includes grocery, hardware stores etc.  It's nice that you can get anything your heart desires (I have already located Banana Republic as well as blue corn tortilla chips and chipotle en adobo) but there is no such thing as a quick trip to the store.  Parking and then weaving your way through these places takes ages.  This is not at all helped by the fact that they have scattered the stairs, elevators and escalators all over the place so there is no direct route up or down - the idea is that this make you walk around and therefore shop more.  It makes me irritable, not want to shop and one can only hope one of these places never goes up in flames because there is no way out.

Fortunately, we have now acquired just about enough of the bare essentials so that we don't have to make daily shopping trips.  We did our first big grocery shop yesterday which literally took hours.  It's going to take me a while to crack the logic behind supermarket organization in the part of the world, because as far as I can tell there is none.  There also seems to be an irritating setup in which you have to get all unpackaged fruit and veg weighed and priced before you pay, cosmetics and medicine often must be paid for separately as well.  Food prices however are a real treat.  We got just over a kilo of fresh clams for about $1, Dover Sole was going for $6 a kilo, fresh Tiger Prawns are basically free ($0.80 for about 4 meals worth) and we got 8 squid for about the same. 

I also got a huge kick out of what we like to call the 'sin section' of the supermarket.  They have stashed all pork and booze away in a corner away from everything else.  Beer and bacon, yum.  Unfortunately, beer prices are roughly what they are at home - even slightly more expensive, and wine (a lot of it terrible wine) is outrageously pricey.