Killing me softly

This blog is going to be more rambling than ever: more picaresque than picturesque. There are a number of reasons for this. the first is the long period of time this blog covers. The second is that for some inexplicable reason Blogspot has periods of time where it is impossible to use the edit mode. This is frustrating and leads to the third reason which is a form of blogger's block. The fourth reason is that my iPhone where I keep all my notes has frozen and nobody in South East Asia can repair it.  I hope that the Genius bar in the next Apple shop I get to will be able to sort it out. The fifth reason is that I lost my passport and credit cards a month ago and so for a period of time was a refugee and homeless. There will be events and visits missed out or in the wrong order but I am recording the essence of South East Asia here. The reason I am able to devote some time to this blog is that at present I am relatively immobile in Vietnam because of an infected insect bite on my right foot. Life hasn't been boring. 

It's been a hectic travelling period. I returned to England for my birthday and to try and sort out visas. I went to Dubai and had a great chill-out though with temperatures of 40 degrees I imagine that is an inappropriate word to use. The Burj  al Arab hotel on Jumeira Beach is the most spectacular new building I have encountered (interior is shown below). I have been fortunate enough to visit lots of great buildings but this has to be the best.

It is up there with the Chrysler building and Sydney Opera House. All my views of older buildings were changed in Cambodia but I'll come to that later. Back in England I begin a mad 48 hour journey of the world's best airports starting at Heathrow, progressing to Hong Kong then Singapore and Bangkok to catch up on my round-the-world ticket again. Although I had managed to get an Indian visa, I had failed to get a Chinese one whilst in England.

The Indian visa story provides an insight into what I may expect after October 2nd. I arrived at the Indian Embassy in Birmingham and went through the security gate where I was given my ticket. All around the waitingroom were notices in all languages imploring people to be patient and to be respectful to the officials who were trying to deal with numerous enquiries. These notices were ignored and in one case torn off the wall and shoved in the face of one official. The room was hot and the mood was hotter. I predicted a riot but it didn't happen. After about 90 minutes my number was called and I went to the counter only to be told that the Embassy no longer issued visas. The task had been sub-contracted to a company down the road. My suggestion that this information should be put on the front door of the Embassy was met with quizzical agnosticism. I then went down to the company issuing visas. I was given another ticket and after a short wait of 10 minutes my number was called. I went to the counter only to be told that the afternoon period was for the issuing of visas and not for visa application. The person behind the counter gave me a web address where I could apply online. I was getting close here- or so I thought. The online application form was impossible: I needed to know which excepted territories I would be visiting even though there was no definition of an excepted territory; I needed to provide the names, addresses and phone numbers of two referees in India and I needed confirmation of an Indian address where I would be staying. So I went back to the visa company. The security guard recognised me from the day before and I told him my difficulties in completing the online form. He said that this is always happening and gave me an A5 form to complete. I explained that I did not have any references or hotels and so he gave me the names and addresses of his brothers and said I could say I was staying with them. After that it was all plain sailing except that the passport photo machine had broken down and there wasn't another in the immediate vicinity. After 3 more days I collected my visa and bought the security guard a pint.

On my whistle stop tour of the world's greatest airports I managed to get 6 hours in Sydney. I went to the Rocks and had a pleasant tour of Cadman's Cottage, the original harbour master's house in the shadow of  Sydney Harbour Bridge (shown below). It is a great free visit and pleasantly passes the time way 

After a second visit to the Biennial art exhibition and a swift pint in the Fortune 

of War it was time to get back to the airport. At the Biennal there was a new exhibit of video art - the highspot of which was a 90 second video entitled "I piss where, when and how I want."

Bangkok is the same madhouse as ever. The traffic is relentless; crossing the road is dangerous. The City is full of white men (young and old) accompanied by Thai women (young and old). I do not have any particular view on sex tourism. It seems to be a classic barter situation: the mutual exchange of wants but there is a sadness to it that I feel for both parties. When I hear an older Thai women telling a Liverpudlian that he had spoiled a girl by paying her 2000 Baht (32pounds) I think there may be some issues here. Meanwhile at Kao Sahn Road mayhem continues. It is Blackpool and Soho combined. The sex traders vie with the frog sellers for Bahts; backpackers find cheap accommodation; old white men find cheap girls; everyone finds some sort of gratification. Mine is the sweetcorn and watching the traffic police and the food vendors go through the nightly ritual of being moved along and then returning. The police have a job to do - the vendors a living to make. More and more being an old white man I am stereotyped as being in Bangkok for sex. I am the target; it's quite amusing and playing the game is sport itself. I notice an increasing number of white men and Thai girls with children. This is changing the face of Bangkok. 

I would like to reflect for a moment on sex tourism in Thailand having witnessed it in Bangkok, Phuket, Chang Mai and Pattaya. As a Guardian-reading liberal

you would expect me to take a view that it is despicable in that it subjugates and demeans women. As a matter of observation and talking with those involved I believe the situation is much more subtle and complex. On the street itself, it is obviously the women who are in control. Gaggles of girls sitting outside the many bars on Soi 6 take the piss relentlessly out of humiliated groups of men. The girls work with each other in this endeavour; men are isolated and  cajoled into a tryst. It is definitely the men who are humiliated. The women lead a largely boring life: most of the time is spent sitting down talking to their fellow workers in other bars throughout Thailand on their mobile phones, preening each other and adjusting the many facets of make-up from finger nails to eye-brows. These periods of boredom are punctuated by bouts of hassling and hustling their prey. This produces much excitement and amusement. The girls love it; I'mnot sure that the same is thought by the men. Once every couple of hours the boredom is broken by a women taking a man inside the darkness of the bar. What goes on in there is a private matter lying somewhere between excitement and more boredom.  The relationships are more complicated when they become long-term according to the couples I have spoken to. The working girls will typically make  1000 baht (16 pounds) for each arrangement. Of this the bar management will take 200 baht. The girls live in very sparse accommodation either above the bar or close to it. Typically, this accommodation will consist of mattresses on the floor, coat hooks and hangers begged from the local laundry, a wash-basin, cold shower and a shared toilet. It will be shared by 2 or 3 girls. Being chosen by a man after a night's work in the bar means: a bed to sleep on as opposed to a floor; a TV; a hot shower and inevitably boring sex.  That is why a long-term "marriage" with any man is the great escape. All the men I spoken to have the following in common: a sense of loss of England as it used to be and in their mind as it should be; divorce and a bitter divorce settlement; golf and the love of the freedom afforded by Thailand. On reflection it seems  as though it's a win-win situation. In economic theory I wished that Adam Smith could have seen Thailand before writing The Wealth of Nations.

One of the well-hidden jewels of the Kao Sahn Road is Starbucks: ( left) it is tucked away up a little avenue off the main road and it is the most beautiful Starbucks I have ever been in. Its tranquility is welcome after all the hustle and bustle of the neighbouring roads. There is nothing better than reading Agatha Christie, listening to The Delays, drinking iced latte sitting in a leather armchair watching the various groups come 

and go in its air-conditioned splendour.

From Thailand the next stop is Cambodia - a country of tears and reconciliation. Phnom Penh is a great city. Cambodia is a great country. The traffic here is hectic. There is no hierarchy here everyone believes that the road was built for them. There is a right-of-way system at cross-roads and junctions: everybody has the right-of way. People drive on the right hand side of the road unless that is crowded and the left hand side is less so and then it seems obvious that you

should then you drive on the left. The most amusing thing about the traffic is the motor bike. These range from mopeds to 750 Kawasakis but it is what they carry which fascinates me. In the whole of Cambodia I do not think that I have ever seen just one person on a bike. The most I have seen is 7. The average is 3. The combination of two people and two pigs seemed

 the most unmanageable. The multi-tasking involved in four people on a motorbike 3 of whom (including the driver) are using mobile phones while carrying nets of balloons in the morning mayhem of Independence Day in Phnom Penh is something to behold.  From there it is a short hop by plane to Siem Reap where the temples of Angkor Wat await. The guide-book recommends a tour of all the temples lasting five days and at the very 

least 3 days but you can do them all and  throw in a visit to  a floating village easily in a day. The temples are stunning and are in the top 5 must-see places according to Guardian readers. On this journey 

I've been fortunate enough to manage all 5.  These temples are the most beautiful buildings I have ever seen. The most moving part of my whole trip has been a visit to the Killing Fields. I have now been there 3 times and every time I find out something more horrific about the Khmer Rouge. It is impossible to describe the absolute quiet in this open air museum of death. The monument containing thousands of skulls is impressive but it is the field itself which holds the stories of what went on. Because Cambodia is a poor country the fields are presented in a very amateurish way. The signs are hand written in poor English. The mass graves are totally accessible. Clothes and bones and teeth are found all over the site particularly after a heavy rain storm. If it were possible everyone should go there. But even as I write this we are doing it all over again in various locations in Africa but it's a long way away so it doesn't really count does it. Beaten to death so as not to waste bullets. Babies were the easiest they could be buried alive if necessary. And I say to myself what a wonderful world. Less than 40 years ago.

The next part of this blog will be a snapshot of weeks of travel which included the misfortunes I referred to earlier. I want to get this blog out of the way so that I can get back on track. A return home, five South East Asian countries, various monsoons and other events will be fleshed out if I ever get round to writing this adventure up as a book and if my iPhone gets repaired. 

India is a shit hole. I know this is an unfair way of summing up the world's largest democracy but it was the second worst country I have visited after Fiji. I didn't want it to be. I wanted it to be great and to be fair I will go back 

there and give it another chance. Perhaps I chose the worst time of the year. It was unbearably hot even by the sea in Goa. However, these are not the ramblings of an old colonial here there is a dour heaviness about the country compared with the rest of South East Asia. At times I thought I was in an Apocalyptical vision of the future akin to an eastern Blade Runner. Mumbai is brown. Beggars using children make walking the city uncomfortable at any time of day. I have encountered begging in many forms in many cities but in Mumbai they do not understand the meaning of "No". The traffic is impossible. Drivers think that the horn is a second accelerator; they use it all the time. Everybody seems to be on the make. Even in an art gallery where the entrance was free somebody tried to charge at the exit. On my 30000 miles of travelling it is the only place I have been given counterfeit money. The rupee itself is impossible to exchange outside India as I have found to my cost.The high spot of the visit was being with a group of yuppies from the city in a bijou bar on a Friday night . They concurred with my view of the place. I decided to escape to Goa. That was better - marginally. There are over 40 beaches in north and south Goa and I may just have been unlucky enough to choose the worst 3. I had planned to spend 7 weeks there I lasted less than a week. I did plan to go back there but my lost passport contained my visa so return was impossible. I will go back again in the very near future it has to be better than this Ineed to

give it another chance. My overwhelming memory of India will be ofbeing on a beach in Goa when a herd of cows walked their patch. This place was obviously not meant for me. I returned to Bangkok, went to Laos (twice) Cambodia (twice) . Laos is to cool and chilled for me to have any lasting memories of it. I am sure that it is fine for young drop-outs to find their inner self but I did that too many years ago. I went to Philippines in the monsoon period. I had confused Malaysia with Manila earlier on tour. Over 50 people died on an capsized ferry. I have been allowed into Vietnam for 3 days because I lost my passport here I am still officially a refugee. My overall impression of Indo-China because that is where I have spent most of my time is of nations who will in the end make it. Cambodia and Thailand  take religion and royalty seriously. Taxi drivers and prostitutes bow before Buddha. Thailand has been in mourning for the Queen since January. She will be buried next week and the bars will be closed for four days. Laos, Cambodia and Vietnam are fighting a losing battle against sex tourism. The Philippines have already lost that battle. From here it's the festival of lights on the river in Bangkok on 12 November  then down to Malaysia before heading back to Europe on the final leg. Ciao.

Reading Third Girl

Listening Delays

Watching Fawlty Towers