Saturday, October 18, 2008

2007 Fantasian Odyssey - China, Hong Kong, Vietnam, Laos, Myanmar, Thailand, Macao

Day 1

Set out from the Lighthouse Apartments in misty Eastern Wall at 2pm and headed to the airport which resembled the post-Hurricane Katrina Superdome in Ny'awlinns - no room to move, queues for everything. Even worse in Gatwick where security took ages to clear. Flight to Honk Conk went smooth as ya like - they had Walk The Line and Superman Returns on the entertainment system so I watched those, listened to some iTunes, did a lil' writing on my laptop and before you know it, the 12 hours had passed. I had even smuggled a half-bottle of vodka and 2 bottles of Dr. Pepper onboard (as the alky drinks weren't free) but I ended up just having one glass! (I ended up combining the vodka with OJ so I can't even let you know if Voddy n Doc Pepper is the way to go or not. All in good time!)

Day 2

Oh yeah, it's Sunday now. Haven't a clue what time of day it is as I got feck all sleep on the plane. But it feels brilliant to be back in Asia. Honk Conk airport is pristine as ever - I got a limo taxi from there to the Chinese border (about 25 miles away) for 15 yo-yos. The views on the way were stunning - there were fishing villages on stilts and masses of skyscrapers in the same line of vision. Got through the border fairly quickly and into another taxi for the hour-long onward journey to the Sheraton Dameisha Hotel. Protracted negotiations were the order of the day beforehand - the little shit wanted 35 yo-yos and I got him down to 15 which was still too much but I wasn't in top negotiating form. I arrived at the hotel at 5.30pm HK time which meant I travelled pillar to post in 22.5 hours - not bad for 7,000 miles! The hotel is stunning - it's as nice as it looks on the website -http://www.starwoodhotels.com/sheraton/property/overview/index.html?propertyID=1968 private beach with jet-skis for hire (a must for one of the days ahead), big indoor and outdoor pools and - whoop whoop! - 2 water-slides! My 12th floor room is deadly with stunning ocean view, balcony and big-momma LCD TV. Walked down the town and popped into a local supermarket which I always like to do wherever I go (batty I know but don't knock it til you've tried it). Pissed myself laughing at the names of some of the products - "Generous" Shaving Gel was my absolute favourite, especially as it was smallest tube of it that I'd ever seen. Generous my fucking eye! Stocked up on waters (10 cents for 500 ml bottles), Fanta (60 cents for 2 litres), Pringles (60 cents a tube) and a 1998 bottle of Chinese red wine for €3.50 - I'll report on its taste when it happens! Anyway, it turns out that I am literally the only whitey in the city (and it's a big one!) so everyone is staring and all the kids are coming up saying "Hellooooo!". "Fuck off, ya wee cuntz," I said back to them all. Except I didn't. Played it safe tonight by going with the hotel buffet and boy was it d-lish! I demolished a plate of fresh shrimp, tomatoes n pesto, rocket, olives n sushi, then phab chicken meatball n vegetable soup, then satay skewers of chicken n lamb, then sea bass and snapper with rice n teriyaki sauce, then 5 wickle desserts which I piled on 1 plate, of which the chocolate raspberry fudge cake was the undoubted highlight, then some fruit. What a piglet! All for €18, which I have no doubt is considered a rip-off in these here parts but who gives a puck, cos it was class, and I'm on me 'ollie-dies. A good kip tonight and I'll be ready for bronzage and touring action tomorrow with a venom. Day 3Went to bed about 1am and reasoned with myself not to set any alarm, and to wake up unabetted by electronic implements, in celebration of my first actual workday holiday. So lo and behold I woke up at 2.20pm! And I loved it! Sha'nt make a habit of that, though, but hopefully that has banished the jet-lag to the hills overlooking Dapeng Bay. By the time I had applied my P20 sunscreen, it was clouding over, so I decided on going for an adventure using naught but public transport. So down I went to the Concierge and asked him how I would get to the Window Of The World theme park by bus. He kindly wrote out the bus routes (103 and 223, fact fans) and very kindly (and unprompted) wrote in Cantonese the name of the stop where I should change for the 223. So off I went across the road and a 103 came along within 30 seconds. Chinese busses are fascinating yolks altogether. Driven by the bloke, conducted by the woman (life imitating sex there, I feel), it's a tightly-run ship. I had no idea how much it would be, so when the conductress came along, I proferred her a 5 yuan note (50 cents). "Where are you going?", she probably said in Cantonese. Luckily I remembered the note from the concierge in my pocket, and I pointed to the Cantonese characters he had scribbled in 0.4 of a second, even though there was probably about 100 strokes of the pen involved. Upon seeing this, she barked something, presumably the price and luckily a schoolgirl was within earshot and called out "8! 8!" So I very happily coughed up the 30 cents extra. As the bus trek turned out to be an 80 minute one, this represented splendid value for money. Throughout the journey, I was stared at by the entire packed bus of commuters. Staring is being introduced as an Olympic sport for the 2008 Beijing Games and I would urge all other countries not to bother sending competitors as the Chinese will unquestionably scoop gold, silver and bronze in both the men's and women's disciplines. It's quite the novelty and quite liberating to be a thing of wonder and amazement (or, if you will, a freak) but as Shenzhen has a population of 7.2 million people and I only saw 3 other white people all day (out of thousands) then I kinda see where they're coming from. Still a weird feeling, though. At least a few of the kids shout out "Hello" and wave - it seems to be a thing they have like where we used to gesture with an up-and-down arm motion at lorry-drivers in a bid to get them to sound their horns.The bus journey was fascinating - it was about 20 miles long and there were skyscrapers everywhere - loads built and loads loads more under construction. This place will be one of the world's largest 10 cities within a decade, yet it's largely unheard of - that'll change very soon, I reckon.So anyway, the kind conductress barked at me when it came to the bus-change point so I disembarked. As I had been travelling the best part of 90 minutes and was now in downtown Shenzhen, I decided to take a wee break. As it was now 5.15pm and I had yet to eat, I headed straight to McDonald's where my breakfast (a Big Mac with large fries and coke) set me back a whopping 2 Euros. Looking around, people had clearly dressed up to come here - it seems to be regarded as a salubrious establishment in these here parts. After a quick trip onto a flyover for some pictures of the city, I caught a jam-packed 223 bus. The conductresses have eagle eyes in observing who gets on and off (you can do so from both the front and the middle doors) and she was up to me through the melee in 5 seconds flat. I didn't have the name of the theme park written in Cantonese so I proferred her a 10 yuan (1 Euro) note and hoped that'd do. Absolutely not. "Where are you going?", she probably barked. "Window of World", I replied, slowly, breaking it into pidgeon English in a hopeless effort to assist. "Fucking WHERE?", was her likely reply. "WINDOW.....OF....THE WORLD. PARK? THEME PARK?", I retorted, uselessly. Luckily, a fellow commuter intervened and provided translation, although further pidgeon English was required. Thus it transpired that the fare was 20 cents (2 Yuan). So eventually I got to the Window Of the World - I knew I was there, as a half-sized version of the Eiffel Tower and the Parthenon came into view. Even crossing the road to get to it was an adventure - down into an underground metro subway - up again 10 minutes later - D'oh! I'm still on the same side of the road, just further down. Back down again and this time, much success. High 5! I paid the 12 yo-yo admission in and was treated to a series of replicas of world-famous sites - the Taj Mahal, the Pyramids, Sydney Opera House, Notre Dame, yet not one single Irish landmark! I was appalled - what of our beloved Spire? Or the statue of Molly Malone? Or........another of our beloved world-famous structures? However, all was redeemed when a supermarket-music version of The Cliffs of Dooneen emerged from the tannoy, all cheesey-guns blazing. I wept bitterly and thought of my mother country, and of comely maidens dancing at the crossroads. Then came a deluge of rain so I sheltered under the tiny 2-foot high arches of the St. Mark's Square in Venice where I stayed for 5 minutes watching the torrents come down over the Sydney Harbour Bridge and the Colisseum. A trippy moment to be sure.Now it was 7.30pm and time for the park's Super Dance Elegant Culture Show where a couple of thousand punters pile into "Caesar's Palace" (more resembling a large bingo hall) to watch a troupe of 30 strut their stuff in various national costumes, to various national dances. Asian audiences are hilarious - they give the tiniest ripple of applause to something that they absolutely love. Anyway, halfway through, I'd had enough - probably when 10 blokes came out wearing sparkly "Luck Irish" hats, singing "There's No Business Like Show Business". The girlies were wearing Stars n Stripes outfits which were almost equally hideous, if somewhat more appropriate for the murdered tune.So back on the busses for 2 more hours of getting stared at, prompting me finally to get up, hold my arms oustretched and roar, "Is that enough for you to see, you pack of staring FUCKS?" Except I didn't.Got off outside the hotel at 10.45pm and rather than pay a king's ransom for Sheraton Room Service, I went into a nearby restaurant for my "lunch". The 8 waitresses had no English between them and all insisted on swarming around me at my table, doing various duties. One bringing a pot of tea (to pour over the chopsticks and sterilise them, apparently), one bringing a plate of appetizers, which apeared to be battered chicken claws and the 6 others taking my order. I was absolutely parched so I said "Tsingtao?". No response. "Tsingtao? Beer? Tsingtao?" Blank looks. "TSINGTAO! Chinese Beer! Eh...Heineken?" Whether it was the repeated utterances of Tsingtao or the uttering of the word Heineken, I don't know, but it caused one of the faces to light up and cry "Tsingtao!". Cue screams of derisive laughter from her and the other 7. "THAT'S WHAT I SAID THE FIRST TIME, YOU PACK OF RUDE BITCHES!", I bellowed, furiously. Except I didn't. Although I was on the verge.Anyway, along comes an ice-cold 600 millilitre (nice one!) Tsingtao and a giant plate of special Fried Rice, and all is well. Cue further sniggers from the bitch waitresses when I struggle with the chopsticks, but one icy glare sends them scarpering for cover and puts paid to any further cackling. And impressively, as soon as my glass is empty, along comes a waitress out of nowhere each time to pour me another part of the bottle. The total damage is 28 Yuan (€2.70). Bleedin' noice wun!Today's blog was brought to you by Generous Shaving Gel. Don't be stingy (cue uproarious laughter at the double-meaning!), buy Generous Shaving Gel.

Day 4 (Tuesday August 28th)

The day got off to a tragic start when I learned that a very close relative of mine had died suddenly. My brother explained that it was all very sudden - a heart attack. I will of course have to return home immediately which is insignificant compared to the deep personal loss. Then I realised, "Wait a minute, this is all happening at my family home in Cavan - I'm here embracing my family members in mournful consolation." Then I woke up instantly. Dream Machine, you are an absolute bollox. Clearly vexed that I'm having a ball, it decides to concoct the most horrific story which I fell for hook, line and sinker.That very sudden wake-up occurred on the stroke of noon, a 2 hour improvement on the previous day! After some high-class lounging, it was off to the pool outside for....some high-class lounging. It was a gorgeous day - blue skies, 29 degrees and a brisk cooling sea breeze. Nothing for it but to lie back and think of iReland, listening to iTunes that iLike on my iPod. "American Dream" by Jakatta was particularly in keeping with the chilled oriental mood, while passers-by were surely amused at my actions to the Fast Food Song which just happened to come up on the randomizer. "A Pizza Hut... (join hands to form the top 2 sides of a triangle)....a Pizza Hut (repeat).....Kentucky Fried Chicken (bring folded arms to one's sides and wiggle them about) and a Pizza Hut (repeat first action, then repeat first verse).....McDonald's McDonald's (write out the Golden Arches "M" using one's two forefingers)......" Before you die of embarrasssment (one death today is quite enough, thanks very much), I should point out that the dance moves were done whilst lying on a sunlounger and were most subtle indeed.After a couple of hours of that nonsense, it was into the infinity pool for a couple of lengths (arduous fare as it is 80 metres in length) and a couple dozen testings of the water slides. The yellow slide was longer with a couple of tunnels but the blue one was more kamikaze-style with a few instances where you felt that you were going to rise up too much and fall out over the edge, and therefore won my vote, with 14 go's versus the 11 on its yellow rival. Then to complete the exhausting programme of daytime events, it was into the internal facilities of the jacuzzi, steam room and sauna. A frightened-looking 16-year-old was upon hand to dispense towels and toiletries. "Your wish is my command, Sir," he appeared to be saying, as he followed me around constantly, somewhat unnervingly. "I wish you to ravish me," I could have said, and he would not have batted an external eyelid, maintaining his abject horror fully internally. Thankfully a group of others came along into the fitness centre, diverting his attention for the duration of my jacuzzi soak.Upwards to my room to order a club sandwich and chips for lunch (d-lish and a Sheratal (?) bargain at €5.50), having had some Pringles for breakfast at 1pm. The ordering process was an arduous one, with what seemed like 11 others at the other end of the phone, trying to decipher what exactly I wanted. But it arrived in perfect condition fifteen minutes later, replete with gushing waiter. I lunched on the balcony and took in the fantastic views of Dapeng Bay and its surrounding hills.After some exquisite potterage, I headed into downtown Dameisha to see what it had to offer. I quickly came upon an arcade of establishments including McDonald's (whose establishments I was determined not to visit for at least another few days) and the fantastically entitled "Feeling Party Club". Despite the fact that it just had a few people inside seated on nondescript stools, it was evidently a place where people could come to feel each other's genitalia, at least going by the title. I decided to walk on by and headed down a side street or two where the real Dameisha was beginning to emerge. A group of budding Yao Mings were playing basketball on a floodlit street-side court, and a massive crowd of 40 people were watching some random DVD on a television located just outside a supermarket.I then happened upon an open-air restaurant entitled the "Brand Name Roast Pigeon Club." They certainly love their clubs here in Dameisha and seeing as there was a big crowd there, I decided to join in the Roast Pigeon fun. I sat down at a streetside table and ordered a Tsing Tao for starters. Once again, the waitress had no clue what I was on about but at least was more mannerly about it than those nasty bitches last night. I uttered "tSing t'OW" four or five times, along with "Beer" and "Heineken" but to no avail. She scurried off and a pigeon English speaker was on the scene in no time. Apparently "Tsing Tao" is pronounced "Tsung Toe" but I'll believe it when I say it somewhere else and it gets understood. An English menu was also plucked out of nowhere and I proceeded to peruse delights including Baked Eel with Fungus, succulent Roast Frog with Vermicelli, and mouth-watering Duck Placenta, amongst other delights. I ordered noodles with soy sauce and diced chicken with hot peppers. The waitress recommended the house special roast pigeon, which I politely declined, so she countered with the offer of some oysters. I had never tasted them, so I ordered a brace. Turns out they're delicious - like giant mussels - and they were served in their giant shells with garlic, herbs and spinach stuffing - d-lish! The chicken was rank - I deliberately ordered "diced" chicken as I didn't want any bone or gristle, but they just dice that too and serve it up. The noodles were delightful though, and the whole shebang came to just €5.80. All in all very worthwhile, for the people-watching value alone - a grandma constantly nagging her daughter-in-law, letting everyone know who's boss, and a roaming guitarist going round the cafes with mike and speaker in hand, getting people to pay a Euro to hear their personal favourite. ("Imagine" was gently murdered.)I returned to the hotel via the supermarket that had provided Generous Shaving Gel. A quick scout-round gave us today's product of the day - Dandyism Hair Conditioner! Dandyism does a range of products it seems - shampoo, conditioner and sea-weed facial scrub. Russell Brand would no doubt love it!Back at the Sheraton ranch, I milled into the 1998 bottle of Chinese Red wine which I must say was absolutely class! 9 year vintage for 4 Euros? - Gift!Tomorrow is a moving day - off to Guangzhou (known to us as Canton) - population 6 million. By the end of my travels I will have been in cities whose total populations exceed 60 million people!


Day 5 - Wednesday, August 29th, 2007

Arose at 9.40am, representing another two-hour-plus improvement on the previous day - methinks such advances are now at an end. Packed up all my stuff and headed down to check myself out, and then to pay the bill (boom boom!). The total damage for the 3 days and nights of hedonistic pleasure was a mere 44 Euros, which was entirely pleasing. Mr. CheckOut Guy delivered an extraordinary pearl of trivia during our conversation - that this hotel was the only one in the whole of China that is built on a beach. I must use that one as a question in my next Table Quiz, where surely over 78% of tables will know the correct answer. On to the Concierge Desk where Cherry kindly informed me what bus route to take to the train station, and wrote down its name and the name of the Westin Guangzhou in Mandarin (or is it Cantonese? I must endeavour to find out.). All Chinese people who believe that they will have contact with Westerners seem to choose a new Western name for themselves, most likely out of politeness. Thus, the hotel had a plethora of Cherries, Pearls, Alexes and Padraigs amongst its staff. (Perhaps not the latter one.)So I bade a tearful farewell to the Sheraton Dameisha Resort and headed across the road to catch the Number 357 bus. Cherry had told me that there were a few busses that went to the train station, but that she recommended this one because their busses were cleaner. I was hitherto unaware that there were filthy Chinese busses lurking out there, but I was most grateful to the good Lady Cherry for steering me down the continued Path of Hygiene.Outrageously, it took a full 70 seconds for the 357 to come along, and sure enough, it was spotlessly clean. As I pulled it up the steps of the bus, the pull-along handle of my suitcase came out of its socket, much to the unbridled merriment of the as-ever-exclusively-native coterie of commuters. The lady conductress pounced upon me immediately looking for my fare, but a now world-famous icy glare dispatched her elsewhere until I could regain composure, get seated and get a handle on my luggage woes. This achieved, it was safe for her to return so I presented her with Cherry's Mandarin script, and my 10-yuan (1 Euro) note yielded 3 Yuans in change. The bus took a different route to that previously travelled into Shenzhen and led us through a seemingly brand-spanking-new tunnel one of Dapeng Bay's hills. The tunnel was equivalent in size and length to Dublin's Port Tunnel, but was probably built for fun during a number of workmen's lunch-hour. I continue to be bowled over by the sheer scale of mass-construction in this region - everywhere you look, there are tunnels, motorways and skyscrapers in constructive progress. A 500-foot-high mass of bamboo scaffolding rises up to the base of a massive overhead bridge, whilst port-side lorry-containers are stacked 30 high in mile-long rows. (Shenzhen is the 4th largest port in the world.) All this leads to believe that one day soon, we will blink, and China will have become the world's most powerful economy. And good luck to them.After an hour, we reached the train station - a massive building in the background of a giant plaza. As the 35 degree heat beat down, my luggage handle popped out of its warped socket every 20 metres or so. Entering the train station (which more resembled an airport terminal) a giant bilingual scoreboard reveals that there is a train to Guangzhou in 15 minutes. "Platform at left of hallway," the scoreboard also utters. A flight of escalators is all the left hand side of the hallway has to offer so I ascend those, and am greeted by a host of army chappies, who are scrutinzing ID cards of various commuters. I say "Guangzhou?" to one of them, and he points me downstairs again. Cue my return to where I came from, and much headless-chicken-like scurrying around. A kindly gentleman came along, enquired in English where I was going, brought me out of the building into another, bought my ticket, and sped off on his merry way, insisting on no gratuity. Thank you, kind mysterious stranger!The train ticket is a mere 75 Yuan (7 Euros) and is just about to leave when I board. I show my ticket to the conductress and her screwed up face instantly reveals to me that I'm in the first-class compartment. I feign ignorance and she hasn't the inclination to push me down the carraiges, so I plonk myself into a plush seat and within a minute, a complimentary cup of refreshing tea has been served to me. Pure civilisation! And this is no crockety chicken-train either - the carraige has a speedometer showing that it reaches 200km per hour, with an average speed of 160 kilometres per hour, and it glides along with the smoothness of a baby's arse. The journey reveals more massive infrastructural development all along its route. The train pulls into Guangzhou East station exactly on time at 1.22pm, 57 minutes after it had departed Shenzhen and it truly had been a pure delight to be aboard. I ambled past the shysters shouting "Taxi" knowing that they were looking to rip me off, deciding to walk on for a couple of hundred metres and look for a taxi then. Before I had the chance to do so, the Westin skyscraper revealed itself in the distance and I made a beeline for it on foot. So Sheraton Dameisha to Westin Guangzhou completed for 8 Euros - nice one!The hotel is as nice as had been imagined - a 40-storey glass skyscraper consisting of two main towers, with lush interior design. My 13th Floor Suite offers cool views of all the other skyscrapers in the city. Guangzhou has 6 million people and is officially the 10th most skyscraped city in the world, fact fans! The room has a sofa, a writing bureau, a Heavenly (trade-mark) bed and a Japanese pagoda-style bathroom where you can open its window to be able to watch the 32 inch LCD TV whilst in the bath. It's a far cry from the 4 Euro Bangkok cell where I spent my first night in Asia 8 years ago, which had 4 brick walls, a fan and a sheetless bed. So the opulence is causing no pangs of internal guilt whatsoever.Leaving my room, I catch sight of the first whitings that I have seen in quite some time - an American couple who appear to be adopting a little Chinese girl. The "Dad" is clicking at the child in a bid to get her to move in a certain direction - parenting skills will have to improve there ever so slightly if that tale is to have a happy conclusion.I head across the square to the International Citic Shopping Plaza - a rather posh galleria with shops including Calvin Klein, Armani, Prada and....McDonald's. Determined to eschew it for a little while longer, I decide instead to breakfast in the much more culturally-endowned Papa John's Pizza restaurant, where I down mushroom soup, orange juice and a delightful pasta bake, setting me back 60 Yuan (6 Euros).Having recently endured a panic attack that I might need a Vietnamese visa in advance of travelling there and having no real idea how I'll get to Hanoi by Saturday, I pop into a travel agency. As flights to Hanoi are a ridiculous 220 Euros one-way, I opt for a 68 Euro flight to Nanning on Friday morning instead. Apparently, Nanning is but 5 hours away by bus from Hanoi, so hopefully that'll work out. My fears of needing a visa are confirmed, but it looks hopeful that the agency will get me one within 24 hours.Back to the Westin, where I head to the leisure facilities. The changing room is a luxurious hoot, with dressing gowns, duvet-sized fluffy towels, electronic lockers, more toiletries than Boots, and couches instead of benches to sit on! As promised by the promotional photo, the indoor pool does indeed have a giant chandelier overhead. There's a steaming jacuzzi and an ice-cold plunge pool, as well as a giant sauna and steamroom. The outdoor pool has views of all the city skyscrapers and is bordered on two sides by the two towers of the hotel, with a bridge 30 floors above to keep any rains away. Mint!Utterly relaxed, I head for a wander and I soon find myself down a narrow dark alley with a series of businesses operating either side. I see a cool pair of Converse that I want to buy for 6 Euros but the biggest size they have is 7! Walking further into the alley, I realise that I should be scared, as the place looks like a slum and is full of strange people. But ask me if I bovvered? No, I ain't bovvered! I don't really fancy going for another Chinese tonight so I head for the only other option (as it's 10.30pm) which is McDonald's, and feel suitably dirty afterwards, as ever.Today's blog has been brought to you by Tongcheg Entertainment who kindly offered their services in a flyer handed to me this evening : "You want beautiful young chihnese girls for massge and sew? yes,that,s we have. We are providing brofessinal massage service. Eccelent quality of our girls is guaranteed and fast delivery is our bromise. we will assign gorls According to your special requirements, your comfort, our pleasure? 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Day 6 - Thursday, August 30th, 2007

Woke up at 1pm, having dismissed the 9.30am alarm call earlier - tee hee!Went fashion shopping but got nowhere quickly.Returned to Westin to receive fawning service from Season, Giggs and Bobo (triple sniggers).Went to Baiyau Mountain Resort, where I ascended the treacherous 1500 foot peak!Returned and lunched in Ikea! A horse of a feed!Got my visa to 'Nam and booked a flight to Nanning for tomorrow morning, from where I shall launch an assault the China-Vietnam border and head onwards to Hanoi, which I'll hopefully reach y tomorrow evening (but I suspect I might get held up at the border).Went shopping in posh Mee Mall. Was generally disgusted by the prices - G Star shirts and jeans were more expensive than in Dublin- fack right off! However, got myself a rather flash Kangwei (Chinese label - watch out for it, kids!) ensemble of shirt, shorts n trainers for 32 yo-yos - mint!Called into Hooley's Irish Pub on the way back - it was as Irish as Ally McCoist and I've seen bigger hooleys in Beaumont Hospital.


Day 7 - Friday, August 31st, 2007

Necessity - the mother of all evil - decreed that a 7am wake-up today was unavoidable, as I had a plane to catch. Seeing as I awoke so late yesterday, I didn't nod off until 4am, so do the maths and proceed to weep for your poor unfortunate cousin Damo. I bade a reluctant farewell to the Westin and to Giggs, Season and Bobo, but vowed to return one day soon, preferably teeming with good company on that occasion. The 45-minute taxi-ride was uneventful and cost 120 Yuans (€12). Guangzhou's brand new airport is 45 kilometres out of town - I thought if you were building a new one, you'd have it closer to the city centre, but what the hey! The airport is a bright cavernous affair, with room for everyone to swing their proverbial cats. They did manage to hold the international constant - that of terminably slow security checks. I considered eating but wasn't all that bovvered, and was less so when the only food outlet was trying to vend coffees at a fiver a pop. Pluck right off with yourselves. The flight to Nanning was with China Southern Airlines and the hairdryer of a plane that I dreaded pleasingly failed ot materialise - it was in fact a Boeing 737. Service was more Ryanair than British Airways, but they did manage to dish out a complimentary bottle of water and the driest "Moist" towelette known to mankind. I had the great fortune of being seated beside a family of 4 Chinese hillbillies (Maw, Paw, Grammaw and Suhn), who were clearly enjoying their first ever flight of their collective lives. Maw was seated beside me and was particuarly animated - before the plane even moved, the table tray was opened, shut and opened again, before an hostess admonished here. She flustered over the application of the seatbelt and she dished out vile-smelling sweets and Doublemint chewing-gums like they were going out of fashion (which I believe they have - it's all about the Extra Professional Whitening Gum now - get with it, Maw!). Her programme of hysteria cranked up several notches when the plane became air-borne, by which time I had fled to the safety of a seat in the emergency exit row. However, I was able to enjoy seeing the hicks all swap seats with each other on several occasions, and go ballistic at each new ball of cloud that they could see out the window. I fully expected them to burst into applause upon landing, in the style of 90% of all Irish charte-flight goers and 25% of all Ryanair flyers, but mercifully they desisted. (I could never understand the clapping business - flying is safer than crossing the road. O'Connell Street or Oxford Street would be veritable carnivals were the practice to extend to pedestrians there, upon successful completion of their daring voyage.)So next up was a bus from Nanning Airport (15 Yuan) into the city centre, which happened to be another 40km haul, followed by a 30 minute taxi ride (30 Yuan) to the bus station, followed instantly by the 3 hour bus journey to Pinxiang (60 Yuan) near the China-Vietnam border. The lack of breaks between modes of transport meant that I had yet to eat at all that day, though thankfully the complimentary waters kept on flowing. The bus to Pinxiang was very stylish indeed, with reclining seats, a TV showing shite Chinese chat shows and curtains to shield us from the searing heat of the sun. A further mini-bus ride (20 Yuan) was then required from Pinxiang to the actual border crossing, which took an age to complete - big queue to exit China, then the walk through no-man's land (it genuinely looked like the background in Mortal Kombat), then Vietnamese passport control, then Vietnamese medical control (which merely involved them taking 20 cents from everyone) and finally Vietnamese customs. By now it was 5.30pm and I hadn't eaten in 19 hours, but I was holding up well, probably because of the pig-out feast that I'd had in Ikea the previous day. Straight onto another luxuriant bus, although they insusted on playing a DVD compilation of some Vietnamese pop-stars woeful hits. Picture a 19 year old Vietnamese version of Daniel O'Donnell, with cringe-worthy home-made videos, and that add the excruciating torture of having the DVD skip and pause every 5 seconds, for 2 hours solid. Thankfully I had my iPod to retreat to, otherwise I would have gone quite postal indeed.At 7pm, the bus stopped at a ramshackle Vietnamese roadside cafe, where I managed to wolf down a couple of pork sausages each of which were fairly unnecessarily wrapped in masses of jungle leaves, and a potato-esque footstuff called a "Tarot", according to a couple of Americans (the Westerners are returning!) that I exchanged pleasantries with there.Onwards to Hanoi and the closer we got, the more the bus (and all other vehicles on the road) beeped. "Beep!, you're in my way, move over. Beep!, I've just overtaken you - tee hee! Beep!, I just felt like beeping! And so forth." The traffic system in Hanoi has to be seen to be believed. 3 streets will lead into one and all three flows of traffic will not stop to yield for the other - it is absolute chaos, but no-one seems to get hurt, and traffic seems to keep moving. How Bizarre!, as that obscure New Zealand pop ensemble once remarked.The final leg of the 15-hour traffic journey was in a "meter" taxi to the hotel, where the meter had clearly been doctored, as 300 metres were ratched up at sudden and sporadic intervals, with barely the length of a car travelled. The bill came to €4.50, and as the bloke's car had conked out and died just outside the hotel, I just threw him the money and walked off. At this point, the long-suffering pull-along handle of my suitcase did the decent thing and disintegrated into 3 pieces. It will receive a decent burial and a new one will be purchased before Hanoi has been evacuated.The Sheraton Hanoi is a grand old French colonial affair and seems to be well into its "faded glory" era but that can add class - the jury is out on this matter thusfar. The check-in service got off to a bad start, as Mr. Assistant Manager started looking for internet printouts of booking confirmations and suggested that I go off to a PC (who knows where) and print one off and give it to him. After 15 hours of travelling, I was in no way backwards about telling him waht he could do with his request. "I'VE NEVER HAD TO DO THAT BEFORE AND I'M NOT GOING TO DO IT," I said betwixt clenched teeth, and Mr. Assistant Manager had the good race not to pursue the matter, deciding instead to change his tone by saying that I had received a Room Upgrade and that I could check out as late as 4pm (all these are standard to Starwood Preferred Guests such as I, but it was absolutely lovely to be reminded). The room is a nice one though, on the 14th floor, with fine views of the lake and the city centre.Ravenous at this stage and at 9pm, I decided to take the quick option and go for the in-house buffet dinner for €18, seeing as it had been so good in the Dameisha a few day earlier. Turning up at the restaurant, the snooty little native Madame said that I would need to cover my naked arms, should I wish to enter (this open-plan buffet). You see I was wearing a red Nike sleeveless shirt - of the style championed by Ronaldinho - and whilst this bore no problems in the much swankier Westin Gunagzhou and Sheraton Dameisha, it was deemed utterly offensive couture in this inferior joint. "Fuck RIGHT off with your "Come back with some sleeves", you snooty bitch," I bellowed, except I didn't. I said "OK" and walked out to find another eaterie, which I managed to do with ease. And, joy unconfined, it was an Indian, enabling me for the first time in a week to eat boneless chicken dishes to beat the band, all washed down with some refreshingly effervescent Tigers. Huzzah!


Day 8 - Saturday, September 1st, 2007

Good Christ!, is this odyssey already a week aged? 'Twouldst seem so! Awoke at 11am aftetr further bizarre nocturnal pictorial madnes - during the night I had met Stan Staunton outside (presumably) Croker before a match and proceeded to exchange many pleasantries with him. He proferred his hand to me in the first instance and seemed delighted with the extensive chat. At the end of it all, he asked if there was anything that he could do for me! I said "Absolutely not!", and reassured him that this was not a plea for match tickets or any other such favours!So I arose and showered and before long the good Lady Laura van Bellissima and the Marquis Stefan von Style came a-knockin' upon my door. How marvellous it was to see then both - this was the culmination of many a month's planning, and the rendez-vous had finally occurred, as planned. After availing of thr complimentary Sheraton fruit basket, we went a-seeking more sustainable victuals, and happenstanced upon what seemed to be a reputable culinary establishment close to the hotel. How wrong we were! A simple request for Coca-Cola was denied - apparently the brasserie was entirely out of stock of the much sought-after beverage. Sprite, Pepsi, Fanta and even water were similarly unobtainable, 'twouldst seem. All this led to misgivings that the repastural orders of chicken fried rice, vegetable boiled rice and beef stay with boiled rice would encounter significant danger, and this misgivings very much came to pass. The chicken fried rice arrived with chippings of gherkin and fish, yet was entirely poultry-free; the beef satay with boiled rice was skewer-less and entirely rice-free, whilst the vegetable boiled rice consisted of a very rice-less mass of sauteed green beans. Protestations were met by a complete lack of comprehension of the Englich language, so sagacity prevailed, and the collective 9 Euro bill was paid, and the pilgrims departed. Baron Damon decided that the fruit basket had sustained him sufficiently, but Lady Bellissima took the opulent decision to order a $15 burger and chips, which subsequently transpired to be of the most manky variety, chips aside. Unperturbed, the trio decided to avail of the in-house sporting facilities, by booking an hour of the 4th Floor Tennis Court's time. And so the trio took to the outdoor asphalt court, in the sweltering 35 degree afternoon heat, having rented tennis rackets and balls for the princely sum of $12. Whilst this sounds like €10 Dublin, it was akin to a $150 charge in Vietnam, but the trio remained unperturbed. It was decided that a duo would have a best-of-3 battle and the victor would hold court to receive a challenge from the 3rd competitor. The hour proved to be most taxing on the entire trio's endocrinal glands, and much sweat was duly produced. By the end of proceedings, Il Damiano had emerged a clear victor, but this was surpassed by the sense of general fitness in which the trio had indulged. Matters came to a merciful end when an American quartet arrived for their court booking. An ageing Jim Courier-esque member of said quartet kindly took photos of the energetic trio, and commented upon the redness of Il Damiano's tennis garb. Unperturned, the trio motored onwards to the hotel's delightful outdoor pool, where a trio of $4 Tiger beer cans were ordered and duly consumed with gusto, whilst Laura gleefully read Heat magazine, Steo devoured a week-old Daily Mail and I tittered at the various vagaries of Loaded. After a healthy round of bathroom refurbishments, the trio congregated over a bottle of '98 Chinese Honest Wine, and it was deemed to be entirely magnificent. Such rave reviews led to an encore of Vladivar Vodkas with Dr. Pepper accompaniment, and this too was deemed to be a triumph. A taxi was hailed from outside the Sheraton to the amusingly named "Le Pub" in the centre of town. The fare involved the divestment of a mere 40,000 dong, or €1.80 of our hard-earned cash.Into Le Pub we spattered, where we met Ash-a-leen from Norn Iron, Fiona from the posh end of Cark, Matt and another frugal lady from Engerland and similarly Engish but more flaithulach Chris. After indulging in some delightful tasty bites, we quickly adjoined to the main business in hand - an intense programme of drinking games. Jaysus - so much to catch up on! Here's the synopsis - elaboration later. The Ring of Fire drinking game was a raucous affair. We then got a fleet of motorbikers to drive us at speed through the mental Hanoi traffic to a Karaoke Bar. We negotiated 25 bottles of beer and an hour of karaoke for 50 dollars - deadly! Much karaoke hilarity ensued - the star turn was when Steo and I duetted on a song that we had never heard of before, yet got it note-perfect. Eat your heart out, Amadeus! More crazy motorbike journeys to a mechanic's garage which masqueraded as an underground nightclub and pool hall - deadly hurling! The music was R n B then progressed to techno. Rancid but potent triple voddy n oranges were less than 2 Euros each. There was a pool table there too, which got excellent usage. Crazy shenanigans on the way home - a taxi driver tried to rip us off, and I let fly at her in a violent and abusive manner - it did the trick. We got mopeds home with some clueless divvils so it took an age to get there.

Day 9 - Sunday September 2nd 2007

Rose at 2.30pm so the hangover got slept-off nicely. It was bucketing rain, but the concierge kindly supplied us with umbrellas for the 100 yard trek to a local brunch cafe, where flavoursome Peanut Butter n Jelly sandwiches, Cappucinos and the like were imbibed with hung-over turgidity.Back to the Sheraton for some saunage and jacuzzifying, and then into town. 1st stop was a sham of a cafe who had no chicken in stock, so we headed next door, where the enterprising waiter talked me into ordering and quaffing a 5-shot cocktail, all downed in one gulp - sambuca, triple sec, contreau, Bailey's and Creme de Menthe - all sucked through a straw while it was burning! D-lish!Back to the Sheraton for some chillage, in readiness for tomorrow's Island Trip.


Day 10 - Monday, September 3rd 2007

Headed off at 7am (eek!) to get our bus to Halong Bay - a 4 hour drive away. We were sharing with a group of Vietnamese tourists who were all the one family. Their star member was Chow Young Fat, the spoilt fat only child, who belied his (Chicken) tender 3 years by bellowing raucously at any given moment, delighting us highly. Further crazy high-pitchedness was the order of the day upon our arrival to the bay, where on the dockside, a middle-aged woman was screaming her lungs out and having hysterical and tearful fits of rage. At what?, we knew not, and we proceeded to find her enormously amusing. What compassionate souls! It was shocking caterwauling though, you simply had to be there.Onto the boat where we would stay that night; it whisked us off into the Bay and to some very cool island caves. Later on, the boat docked, and we all jumped off the top of the boat (20 feet high) into the sea, and proceeded to swim 300 metres to another cruise ship, and, after a lenghty rest, back to the boat again.After dinner, there was up-deck chilling, and cabin card-sessions with new friends Paka and Ruth from Hawaii, and the Lost Lock lookalike, Barry from Lahndon (innit).


Day 11 - Tuesday September 4th 2007

More cruising. Back to Hanoi. Got ourselves a hotel and had a nice meal in a French cafe, where all the seats were wheelchairs. Onwards for suitcase-purchasing and beers.


Day 12 - Wednesday September 5th 2007

Rose late enough and went shoping in Hanoi. Bought prescription designer glasses - 2 pairs for 50 Euros! My optician brother will be furious! Also bought loads of DVDs - Sopranos Season 6, Entourage Seasons 1-3, Heroes 1-3, Desperate Housewives 3, Lost 3 and a host of films currently in the cinema like The SImpsons and Knocked Up. All for $1 each! Tee hee!Then we got the bus to Vientiane in Laos at 6pm. 23 hours later - we arrived! The bus was laden down with goods such as milk, rice, computer parts and mysterious briefcases which all got delivered at various interbvals along the way. Throw in the stops every 2 hours and the breakdowns and puncture stops, and you have a very long and arduous journey to test even the steeliest of backpacking hearts. Somehow, we all thoroughly enjoyed it!, especially the latter 9 hours in Laos, where the scenery was breathtaking.


Day 13 - Thursday September 6th

Arrived in Vientiane at 5.30pm! Checked into a nice hotel ($5 each!) and went for a superb meal. Just popped out to do some blogging, now heading back to the pub for some more delicious 90 cent bottles of Beer Lao.So back we went to the bar, which was most luxuriantly colonial in style - a large open patio, a round wooden bar, and a pool table inside. Steo signed the three of us up for the "Winner Holds Table" challenge and we proceeded with gusto to the bar to order cut-price cocktails. It was 9.57pm, and all cocktails were a ludicrous 20,000 kips (EUR1.60) until 10pm - so we ordered 2 each, except greedy pig Steo who went for 3. My selection - a Black Russian and a Mint Julep - were delightfully potent, and were downed within 38.7 seconds. I got talking to one of the girls beside me - Caoimhe from Athlone - and of course it transpired that they had a bestest buddy in common, continuing the Small World experiences that we have been having recently.After receiving 650 millilitre replenishments of my sexy new partner Beer Lao, we adjoined into the pool room, and Steo was soon called into action. His opponent was a studious Chinese man whose life appeared to depend on every single shot he took. The pressure of the gazing international community was clearly too much for our Steo, who was not on potting form, and Pot Sum Ball emerged effortlessly triumphant. Next up was Bellissima, who quickly became a crowd favourite, especially in the corner that housed several young Asian gentlefolk. Her every pot (of which there were many) were cheered raucously by the entire crowd, but Pot Sum Ball alas remained undefeated. Up strode Il Damiano, and relishing the gaze of the United Nations Assembly, he emerged victorious and claimed the night's championship belt, for the authorities had previously declared the game to be the final joust of the evening. Pot Sum Ball was utterly despondent and made a hasty exit in order to sob uncontrollably, or possibly something even worse.We had clearly made an instant impact with the assembled gathering, as my pooling fee was paid by an anonymous benefactor, we received a libation of a free Beer Lao from an onlooker, and we were joined by an ebriated but highly entertaining Bruce from Perth in Australia. He had lived in Laos for the past three years, working in gold mines, and before we knew it, we were tuk-tukking with him to a nightclub that he knew. I should point out at this stage that Laos operates an official government-imposed curfew of 11pm. It was now 12 midnight and after a brief pit-stop in an empty bar (where we had some more Beer Lao), we went off to Dong Chan - the illicit but stylish nightclub located in Laos's tallest building, which is 6 storeys high. I have used the term nightclub somewhat loosely, and the club was jam-packed with Laotian ladies of the night, who pack the dancefloor to offer their wares. A host of colonial dirty old men are there to greet them and talk financial terms, and the elevators were doing a steady trade with departing temporary couples. The dance floor was also packed with regular club punters, so it made for an excitingly intoxicating mix. After an hour or so, we made our exit whilst Bruce was buying us yet more drinks. Wracked with guilt, Steo was dispatched back up the elevator to explain to Bruce that we were retiring for the evening. Whilst waiting downstairs, it was entertaining to see the various temporary couples head off into the rainy night. A tattooed Scottish gentleman, leaving with his surly Laotian minx, espied us and seemed to get a little embarrassed (although he was probably physically "embarrassed" already). The first thing he could think of was to shout "Ohhhh, ah wash ah wuzz back in the Yoooooo Keeeeee" towards us. And we shall never know why, lamentably.We negotiated ourselves a tuk-tuk back to the hotel and retired gracefully around 3.30am.

Day 18 - Tuesday September 11th

Enjoyed some of the greatest hours of my life doing the tubing down the Mekong river. Much more detail to come - it'll take me a week to tell you all about it!


Day 19 - Wednesday September 12th

Day of post-tubing vegetation. Went swimming in a nearby pool and dined in a charming Indian restaurant.


Day 20 - Thursday September 13th

Finally left Vang Vieng this morning, getting the bus to Luang Prabang. The journey is a mere 140 miles, but it took 7 hours, as we were going up and down mountains constantly. The scenery was breath-taking, as was the fact that there were no crash barriers to prevent us from crashing 2,000 feet into the valley below. All along the way we dodged chickens, cattle, goats, kids and dogs. We were also treated to dozens of naked Laotians washing themselves in streams and waterfalls!We arrived in LP at 5pm and got a tuk-tuk to the guesthouse that we chose. It is called Rattana but thankfully appears to be entirely rodent-free, despite its 5 Euro per double-room price tag! The tuk-tuk driver got commandeered by a shyster who tried to bring us to another guesthouse but we told him to fuck right off, and all was well again.We then went a-wandering down the town and got another tuk-tuk driver to bring us to a place where they had a pool table. Tuk-tuk cost approximately 30 cents each per journey, so your anguished concern at our over-spening on transportation should be quelled immediately. IS THAT CLEAR?Anyhoo, Mr. van (tee hee!) der Tuktuk delivered admirably, bringing us to a bar with a free (in terms of price and availability) pool table. Ginat bottles of refreshing delicious BeerLao were 90 cents apiece and they also offered some frozen daiquiris at 3 Euros per pair! We indulged shamelessly, needless to say.A tournament betwixt Bellisima, Style, Dave the Rave and myself ensued. Style and I battled it out in an ill-tempered final and alas the odious Style emerged victorious in the final frame.We were then joined by Gary and Nick from NornIron, an Israeli chappie and a couple of other continentals, and several games of Killer ensued. LP is also affected by a ridiculous 11pm curfew, but savvy tuk tuk drivers brought us to the only beer emporium in town that stays open late - a BOWLING ALLEY!We all amused each other uproariously with our shite bowling "skills" until 2am, when 12 of us were herded into a tuktuk and driven to our guesthouses. We managed half a raucous version of Bohemian Rhapsody before the tuktuk driver demanded that we stop before getting arrested by the Laos police. THey really love their beauty sleep around here!


Day 21 - Friday September 14th

Breakfasted in the cool Joma bakery/cafe. Toasted bagels, grapefruit juice and coffee - D-lish! Then we hired a tuk-tuk for an outlandish 3 yo-yos per person to bring us the 30km to a huge waterfall (and back). There was also a bear and tiger sanctuary there - the tiger came right up to us - v cool. There was also supposed to be a swimming area but it was flooded because of the wet season. It didn't stop us from dipping in, even though some kind Israelis warned us that there were leeches in the water! We had a relaxing game of cards at a picnic table afterwards. We were joined by a lone Kiwi for the duration of the game - he was hopeless at picking up the rules of Switch, but we enjoyed his company all the same before he wandered off into the forest. Off now to celebrate Bellissima's birthday in Style (tee hee!) at a dead-posh restaurant which we are hoping (craving) does a juicy fillet steak.


Day 26 - Wednesday 19th September 2007

In honour of birthday boy Style, we embarked on the most magnificent of tours, where we visited the Golden Triangle, where the countires of Myanmar, Laos and Thailand all meet. We then made a daring 20 minute foray into Myanmar to elicit a passport stamp. Achieved successfully, this means that I have now visited 49 countires, with Number 50 imminent - watch this space! Onwards to a remote area of Thailand to visit a tribe where the women are forced to put 3 layers of steel around their necks every 3 years. The photos will reveal the amazement in full. Out of pity I bought loads of keyrings and fridge magnets, so be prepared for lavish exotic gifts, friends and family!

Day 27 - Thursday 20th September 2007A magnificent day of posh golf was indulged in today. We all had Thai lady-caddies who advised us on club selection and green undulation, as well as caddy-cars, as opulent Westerners such as we should not face the indignity of having to amble along in the fierce South-East Asian sun. Bellissima emerged utterly triumphant, and I for the record went round in a stupendously awesome 127 shots.Afterwards, we retired to the snooker and darts clubhouse, where we enjoyed a number of games of snooker (honours were even, fact fans), and then I challenged the local Number 3 seed to a game of Darts. There was much surprise and joviality when I emerged triumphant, earning the princely sum of 100 bahts! (EUR2.08) The Number 2 seed then stepped up to the mark and won the first game but then lost the 2nd encounter, much to his public shame. The Number 1 seed was telephoned and ordered to speed to the clubhouse, but by this time we had eloped to the Saloon Bar for much required sustainance and beveragarial condiments.


Day 28 - Friday 21st September 2007

After a late ascension, it was straight to the pool for some quality tannage. Laterz, pre-match preparations commenced with some bottles of vintage rouge in our hotel room, combined with games of switch where a stake of 1 Baht (2.2 cents, fact-fans!)per point kept the competition lively. Suitably refreshed, 'twas onwards to Pom Pui Italian restaurant where the lurch-esque Italiano manager both enthralled and scared us in equal measures. The Insalata Caprese had about 8 tomatoes worth of slices whilst the Risotto contained the contents of 11 paddy fields. Matters were concluded with a round of Limoncellos which further boosted the spirits. After a couple of pit-stops, we ended up in a night-club which agreed to show the Ireland-France game - the only place to do so because the Thai vice-prime minister was in town and something of a temperance queen! Got extraordinarily inebriated to get over the shocking disappointment of the result.


Day 29 - Saturday 22nd September 2007

Rose at the very respectable hour of 1pm and vegetated excessively until it was time to catch our Night Bus to Bangkok. Departing at 7pm, we arrived in the Cock-Banging Metropolis at 5am, following an hour-long midnight stopo for some revolting cuisine.


Day 30 - Sunday 23rd September 2007

Just finished some quality tannage on the rooftop of our Hotel.

Wednesday, October 1, 2008

CentrAmp 2008 - Days 10-13 - Nicaragua




Read the CentrAmp blogs for Panama & Costa Rica before proceeding, or else you will be beaten senseless........


Days 10 -13 - Granada, Nicaragua


Rather than do a day-by-day blog for these days, I am going to write a general reportage on Granada, as my days here weren't too eventful, and deliberately so, as I anointed it as one of my chill-out zones. I breakfasted each morning at length and at leisure on the hotel patio which had the Lake (pictured) and its long promenade in full view. The food in the hotel was excellent, with each breakfast consisting of a big plate of ultra-fresh pineapple watermelon and melon, a juicy ham and cheese omelette, toast and coffee, all for 50 Cordobas ($2.50/€1.75). Companionship was usually provided by my Teach-Yourself-Spanish book, which continued to be useful as Nicaraguans, like their Panamaniacal and Costly Rican counterparts, aren't big on English either.
Afternoons were spent walking or jogging along the promenade, with some chilled reading or surfing back in the hotel room. Sounds boring but it was bliss! Whilst sitting at the lakeside on one of the afternoons, I was approached by a local boatsman, who after some standard Spanglish small-talk wanted to know if I was interested in a trip on the lake. Not really, I said truthfully, and due to my genuine disinterest, the price for an hour-long trip dived from $30 to $7, and before I knew it, I was being transported (rather painfully) on the back of his 70-year-old bicycle to his boat. I asked a few times if we were near our destination, as my arse was killing me, and the reply was always a lie-filled "Si".