Dont Worry, Be Hampi!

After my horrible last night in Goa, i would have quite happily walked to my next destination if it meant escaping. But thankfully, I have a train booked to Hospet, the nearest railhead to Hampi, a little town slightly inland in Karnataka. Anyone that travels India will frequently hear about Hampi; how wonderful it is, what a happy and chilled-out place it is. The last time I was here, I skipped Hampi in favour of Gokarna, a sleepy beach town also in Karnataka. This time, after so many glowing recommendations, there is just no way i can't go.

I arrive to the station very early, and am still a little on edge so sit chain-smoking in drinking sugary chai. By bit of serendipity, while I am waiting for the train i meet Manon, a French girl also heading to Hampi, and who is also in the same carriage as me. We spend most of the 7 hour journey chatting, taking in the amazingly lush landscape and buying food from the vendors who pace up and own the train every 10 minutes, flogging their wares with shouts of "chai, chai, chai", "samosa, samosa, samosa..." And in no time at all, we arrive to Hospet and my previous nights worries have all but disappeared.
From Hospet, it's abut 30 minutes to Hampi, either by rickshaw or by local bus. Hospet itself is uninspiring, and I cant imagine why anyone would need to stay there for longer than necessary. On the train, we just so happen to meet a local rickshaw driver called Coffee Boy, who takes us in to Hampi, chatting in English, Hindi and French, recommending places to stay along the way.

Onthe drive from Hospet to Hampi, it becomes clear why everyone raves about this place. The landscape is simply incredible and totally unique - like nothing I've ever seen in India before, let alne anywhere else. For as far as the eye can see, there are colossal boulders peppering the ground, some as big as houses. Often they are clustered together, perched precariously on top of one another, creating natural viwpoints for people to climb. Mixed with the arrid dusty land is lush jungle and banana plantations, and best of all, the whole area is home to hundreds and hundreds of temples, over 500 years old. Dozens of monekys scramble up the boulders and temples, ocassionally snatching bits of food from tourists, or hanging out on rooftops, play fighting, This landcape is straight out of an Indiana Jones film.
Most of the temples were destroyed by a Muslim siege a few hundred years ago, and so are in a fairly dilapidated state - but this only adds to the magical charm of Hampi. Almost as soon as we arrive, I feel this warm wave of happiness; there is something so bewitching and speical abut Hampi that i think most visitiors would agree.

It's easy enough to find a guest house, and me and Manon end up staying at the same one, which is in a brilliant location in the centre of the little town, overlooking the main lingum style temple at the end of the bazaar. There are plenty of little cafes and restaurants to choose from, all clustered around one another an of a fairly similar standard and price - after a few days most visitors get to know them all pretty well. So after an incredible sunset from a little vista near our guest house, me and Manon head for dinner to Chill Out Bar, where we eat, chat, drink chai and smoke beedies for a few hours. (Chhill Out soon ecomes my favourite spot in Hampi; cushions on the floor, soft lighting, good music and nice staff, perfect!). Hampi, being a holy place, is dry, meaning there is NO BOOZE (obviously there is as much weed as you can smoke, though!), and as is common in the dry tows, eveyone heads to bed early. So come 10 pm, I am tucked up, ready for a day of exploration ahead.

The following day I waken naturally very early. After a morning jaunt for a belssing at the temple, me and Manon bup in to a group of Israelis who we met the previous night at Chill Out. They are heading in to the jungle, so with the promise of waterfalls and unspoiled scenery, we decide to join them. To cut a long story short, we end up hopelessly lost, ambling across the boulders, through banana plantations, through small rural villages and across rivers...but never quite managing to find the promised land of watefalls. Nonetheless, it's a total adventure, and for a few hours we are really out in ths sticks. By the time we get back to town, everyone is shattered...no more exploration until tomorrow! Luckily, Hampi has such a gentle and relaxed pace that you can be as busy or as peaceful as you want. So i spend the rest of the day wandering around the little market, drinking chai and sitting on the rooftop of the guesthouse reading.

If there is one "must-do" thing in Hampi, surely it must be the sunrise hike to the top of Matanga Hill, a 30 minute climb from the far end of the bazaar. Me and Manon leave at 5.45 am, making sure that we are in plenty of time, and although it's still dark out, the locals are up already...early nights = early mornings. Guided by a torch, ew scramble up th boulders to the top, where there is a small temple. The views are incredible, and only get better as the sun slowly rises; first bold streaks of pink and purple, then eventually a lazy orange ball, illuminating the surrounding landscape. Matanga Hill really shows the beauty of Hampi, and best of all, it's pretty quiet. All in all, thre are probably about 20 people there, a tiny amount compared to the hoardes who flock to Angkor Wat. This being India, the Russian contingent is here, but they only come to take one picture as the sun rises, then leave pretty sharpish. After an hour of basking in the silence and the morning sun, we come down the hill, and even meet a holy man who actually lives in a cave close to the top, with only a few blankets and some cutlery for comfort. Quite incredible.

Hampi also turns out to be the perfect place to continue and maintain my yoga practice. Individually, it is easy as the rooftops are generally flat, but on one of my morning market jaunts, I meet Yogananda, a local Ashtanga teacher. His calm nature instantly persuades me to join in his morning classes, and so for my final 2 days I do 2 hours of early morning gentle ashtanga asana practice, right outside a peaceful hidden temple near the centre of town. It's incredibly relaxing, and Yogananda really knows his stuff. His practice is definitely the best way to start a day in Hampi.

There are various ways to see all of the temples and boulder sites in Hampi, many of which are pretty spread out. The best way, by far, is to hire a bicycle, ususally in the form a gearless boneshaker, bright pink, complete with a little basket. The landscape isnt difficult to cycle or to navigate, and it makes for quite a liberating way to see the temples at your leisure. Most of the sites are free too, and generally pretty quiet. To wander around a deserted temple, in desert scrubland all alone is quite a thrill; i could be in any era, any time in history.
 As I pedal around, past lazy cows hiding from the midday heat, and farmers working hard in the paddy fields, I feel so happy and so free and so loved up with everything. No bhang lassi or chillum required! It's the Hampi effect; narcotic, and similar to the highs that people experience in Puskar or Varanasi. There are some places that words barely do justice, and Hampi is one of those places.
As our my final day in Hampi approaches, i feel sad to be saying goodbye to Manon, to the village and the the locals. After 5 days, the locals know our names, greet us in the mornings and eager shopkepers invite us to drink chai with them most days. Everyone is smiling and everything is shanti shanti. My bus isnt until late night, so with a whole day to kill, i decide to crossthe river, to "The Other Side." (everyone calls it this because no-ne can prenounce the official name of the little village across the river). It 30 seconds by boat, or if you are feeling brave, you can hobble across the bouders, or even swim. But as with any Indian river/waterway/sea etc, this is where people come to bathe, wash their clothes and perform thier morning ablutions. Exercise caution if swimming....!
It's even more relaxed on "The Other Side", which basically consists of a string of guest houses and huts for rent, most of which seem to be excusively Israeli. Signs in Hebrew, lots of falafel and impossiby gorgeous people walking around.
Before we take a rickshaw to Hospet, me and Manon enjoy onelast gossip/chai/beedie session at Chill Out. She is heading to Mysore, and me to the Sivananda Ashram in Neyyar Dam, Kerala, where I will spend Christmas and New Year. It's an overnight bus to Mangalore, follewd by an overnight train to Trivandrum to get there though, so anticipating a restless couple of nights.
I willv miss this special little town, but am glad that I have taken the time to come here. It really is worth it. Don't worry, Be Hampi!

Where to Stay: I stayed at Shambu Guest House, right in the thick of the action. Clean, quiet, private bathroom and wi-fi fr Rs 500 per night. Probably wont find much cheaper in high season!

Eating: There are quite a few little places dotted around the town, all serving Indian as well as western foods. Best ambience in Chill Out. No alcohol served, but bhang lassis available at Ravi's Rose Rooftop. Standard curry prices from Rs80 upwards.

Transport: Getting from Hospet to Hampi is Rs10 on the local bus, or Rs 200 in a rickshaw. Bicycle hire is widely avaialble and is about Rs 50 per day. Scooters/motorbikes will set you back Rs300 + per day

Yoga: Yogananada has a class at 8am every day, meeting at his office next to the French bakery in town. Highly recommended, and only Rs250 per class. Amazing location and superb teaching style.

Other: Sunrise at Matanga Hill - wear trainers, take a torch and plenty of water! And possibly a scarf for the chilly early morning!

Temples: Explore, peacefully at your leisure! No need to spend a fortune on a ricksahw tour, though they will try and pressure you in to this!!

Shopping: Small market, selling jewellery and camel leather products mostly. Pretty reasonably priced, ad the sellers aren't too pushy :-)

Arambol: Just Let Goa...and a very nasty reality check...

Just a few days in Arambol, North Goa, and it's easy to see why most people who come here stay for months on end - even years, in some cases. With little in the way of major commercial developement, this beautiful beach-side town is brimming over with beach huts, chilled out cafes and bars, juice joints, a bustling market, ayurvedic clinics, yoga classes, t'ai chi, meditation, hula-hooping, cookery classes, tabla lessons, belly-dancing, break-dancing, live music, techno parties, reggae nights, Goa trance, Reiki, hypnotherapy, chakra cleansing, dreadlock workshops...pretty much everything the modern-day hippy could ever want or need.

I arrive mid afternoon, having taken to local bus from Pernem (the closest rail head) to the bus stand in Arambol, about a 10 minute walk from the beach. As luck would have it, I get chatting to an Irish guy outside the bank, who tells me about some uber-cheap beach huts tht he's staying in - and even better, he gives me a (white-knuckle) ride on the back of his Royal Enfield, straight to the door. Perfect! At between 300 - 400 rupees per night for a beach side hut (shared bathrooms), Cock's Town (yes, this was really the name of the place), is on prime beachfront property. Ok, so the bamboo shacks don't look like they would withstand even a slight wind, but the I can't argue with the location, or the price.
Arambol is a strange little place in many ways - whilst being unbelievably chilled out, there are constant mutterings that it is almost entirely controlled by the Russian Mafia. This is evident pretty much instantly - the whole town has a huge Russian population, and many of the signs, posters, restaurants and bars advertise exclusively in Russian. From movie nights to borscht on the menu, the Russians really have Arambol monopolised, closely follwed by the Israeli contingent, who wander around looking effortlessly attractive all the time. Whether that's your cup of tea or not, it doesnt matter, because Arambol really is a place where anything goes. Whatever 'scene' you are in to, Arambol has it. (But it helps if you smoke weed all the time, are surgically attached to a ukelele and have dreadlocks...)

As soon as I arrive, I ditch my bag, shower and head out to explore, with the primary intention of finding a yoga class. After about an hour (and several jewellery-stall distractions....), I bump in to Alpesh, a local yoga teacher and healer. He talks a good talk, and has a very spacious (if ramshackle!) studio, so I decide to give his classes a try, starting first thing the following morning. Happy that Ive joined a class, the rest of my day is dedicated to Kingfisher and joints with the 2 German boys in the hut next door. The smell of ganga is EVERYWHERE in Arambol, like a pleasant hippy pot-pourri. Certainly makes a welcome change from the noxious Mumbai air...

The next day i arrive to my yoga class, full of the joys and ready for what I though would be a gentle reitorduction to yoga after a few months off. I was very much mistaken! Alpesh is a taskmaster, pushing me to the limits of my physical capabilities at times, and by the time my first class is over I pretty much collpase on the beach, aching. Luckily the classes don't seem as challenging as my practice increases, and I begin to learn that (although a little unconventional), Alpesh isn't the yoga-Nazi I intitally imagined (although he did threaten to hit me with a bamboo stick yesterday...). He's friendly, encouraging and his classes are small, so sometimes the lessons are one-on-one. For Rs 300 for a 2 hours session, there's no complaints here!

The rest of my days in Arambol are spent walking on the beach (i think one of the nicest ones in Goa - very spacious and only a few cows), perusing the market (fairly generic tat, reserved for those that want to "buy" being a pseudo-hippy), drinking chai/kingfisher/fresh mango juice, reading, chatting and joints with the Germans and occassionally dodging slighty clingy Indian men who seem to latch on to me. Nonetheless, everyone is smiling here (aside from a few stern looking Russians). Everyone and everything is shanti shanti. The restaurant staff - mostly young guys who have come from the far North of India or Nepal to work for the busy season - think they have struck gold. A job, by the beach? Perfect!
As a small aside: I find it strange - almost a little desperate/sad - there are market stalls where people can go to get thier hair dreadlocked. Don't get me wrong, I love a good dreadlock, but to actively seek out a place to fast-track the hair-matting process...? Hmmm. A little contradictory to the laissez-faire appraoch taken by the people who have taken years to cultivate such a gnarly do. Goa: just another mall piece of India where westerners can come to live out their bohemian dreams...

4 days is barely enough time to enjoy all that Arambol has to offer, but can certainly see myself returning for a few weeks, perhaps before the end of my trip. But if I don't leave now I will almost definitely get stuck there...which doesnt sound like a bad thing actually! Although given that it's fast approaching Christmas and New Year, Goa is about to hit FULL POWER, so perhaps this is the perfect time to escape the chaos!

I take a few local buses from Arambol, eventually to Margao, where i have a train to Karnataka in the morning. There's very little ofinterest in Margao, and is a just stopping off point for most people making connections elsewhere. Its late afternon by the time I arrive, and assisted by a couple of friendly Indian guys that I meet on the bus, I find a cheap hotel for the night (Hotel Annapurna - AVOID AT ALL COSTS). It's a bit rough and ready, but I dont think too much of it - Ive stayed in far worse places. Around 11, i finish reading and turn the lights out for the night. It's hot, and the noise of dogs fighting and howling in the alleyway makes me restless, butI drift off nontheless. Then, around 12.45am, there is a loud knock on the door followed by silence.
 I sit bolt upright in bed, but dont move a muscle. At increasing frequency for th next 2 hours, an unidentified man (most probably the hotel manager) continues to bang and pound at my door, occasionally shouting "Madam, open this door; Let me in".
To say I am terrified is an understatement. The door is bolted from the inside, so I'm sure that he can't get in, but nonetheless I sit awake on the bed until morning, shaking and wondering what business anyone - manager or otherwise - could have to come to my door so late. There's no fucking way I'm answering the door, of this I am sure.
Naturally, my mind is in overdrive - what if he gets in? What then? It's pitch black, I have no phone, I'm two storeys up and there are bars on the windows. The banging eventually stops, and so I pack and dress - trainers and all - in case I have to make a run for it. Perhaps it might seem that I am over-reacting, but at that moment, sitting in that dingy little room, it dawns on that I am completely alone, in a strange city and withv nowhere to turn for help. All I have is a smll pocket knife and some acetone; it's hardly decent defence.
At 6am, i wake from a light sleep, and linger around the hotel room until the sun comes up, and until I feel confident enough to open the door and get out of there as quickly as possible. Luckily, there is no-one around when I leae the room, and I practically sprint down the 2 flights of stairs to the exit....which just so happes to be padlocked.
FUCKING NIGHTMARE.
The manager is passed out on the floor, so I have to wake him to let me out. Of course, he gets his cock out and stands, unlocking the door slowly, while I am desperate to leave. Now, I'm no stranger to opportunistic masturbators/perverts/deviants (see previous blog posts!), but this situation is the first where I've really felt genuinely harassed and threatened. I manage to leave okay, and arrive to the train station in plenty of time. Although I'm always fairly careful, this has been a bit of a reality check for me. I'm definitely not in Kansas any more...

So onwards it is to Hampi in Karnataka. I'm putting ths little hiccup behind me, and out of my mind.

See you soon Goa - I'll be back to cleanse my chakras and awaken my third eye in no time at all... :-)


Getting Around: The closest railway station is Pernem. Dont bother taking a taxi, instead walk out of the station to the end of the dirt road, and wait for a bus. They are pretty frequent and only cost Rs 15. In Arambol, just about everyone hires scooters or motorbikes. From around Rs 200 per day, they are a bargain. Goa is a decent place to try out riding scooters if you've never done it before.

Where to Stay: I stayed at Cock's Town, half way along the beach. 300-400 rupees per night for a beachside hut with shared bathrooms. The beach front accommodations are a little noisy as they all compete with each other musically, so it can be a bit of a relentless headfuck. But there are literally hundreds of similar standad places set in the little roads connecting the beach to the main market street, or along the cliffside at the far right of the beach. Just look around! Everywhere now offers wi-fi too.

Where to Eat: Beachside eating is expensive - mostly catering to the rich Russian crowd (things like shark on the menu etc), so it's worth walking to the main street to find a smaller, more local restuarant. There are plenty to choose from. There are a few little street cafes offering veg thalis for Rs 50. Although a little pricey by Indian standards, Once in Nature organic cafe, tucked away down a little land on the market street, is brilliant. The food is ridiculously healthy and delicious, and the ambience is just perfect. Main courses from about Rs120. Umbrella Cafe is also a lovely little upstairs chill-out spot, albeit almost exclusively Russian.

Drinking: Same as eating - the closer to the beach, the higher the price (generally). Some places offer 2-for-1 happy hours though. A small bottle of Kingfisher will set you back about Rs50- Rs80 in a bar, or Rs30 in a shop.

What to do: Aside from lying on the beach, drinking Kingfisher, and taking in the amazing sunsets? Arambol has smething for everyone. There are posters EVERYWHERE advertising classes and services in just about everything. Get some recommendations when you arrive, as the sheer volume of things available can be overwhelming.

Other: It's COLD at night, seriously! I dont remember this from the last time in Goa, but it really is chilly! I slept fully clothed with 2 blankets and still woke up cold. Bring a blanket, or buy one at the marketl

Mumbai: Smells, sights and Spellbinding Slums...

India is the first place I've ever been to twice. Everywhere else I have been has been a solo, single visit. But something about India, since the day I left, has compelled me to return. The people, the place, the noises, the smells, the culture - all of it is so alien, so exotic and unusual that I can't help but remain totally spellbound by it.

So 2 years later, here I am, back at my original starting point, Mumbai. I feel I owe this city an apology though - I was unfairly harsh on it the last time I was here. Ok, so it's pretty overwhelming, but not nearly as daunting as I recall. Yes, it's busy, frantic, noisy, ocassionally smelly and a little dirty, but therein lies the charm. Seriously! So Mumbai, I'm sorry. I take it all back.

From the airport, I take a prepaid taxi to Fort, where my hostel is, which costs Rs 590 (about 6 pounds). Considering the trip takes 2 hours (allowing for the hectic, relentless traffic and the driver stopping to ask for directions a few times), I think this is a pretty good deal. It's evening time, and still pretty hot and humid, but it's not nearly as oppressive as I'd anticipated. I'm sweaty, but not shamefully so. By the time I arrive to the hostel, it's 9pm, and I can figure out if I am tired or not. In this situation, a beer is always useful, so I ditch my backpack and head to Cafe Universal at the end of the street, where I have a drink with a Xima and Shine, who are also staying in the hostel.

After a restless night of sleep (I guess it will take me a few days to readjust to the warm nights and constant noise), I get up the following morning and head on a tour of the slums with Xima. I'm not usually a fan of organised tours, but going with a local guide is pretty much the best way to the Dharavi slum. Since it's the 3rd largest in the world, going it alone more or less guarantees getting lost. So me, Xima an Austrian couple and our guide (who has lived in the slum all his life) head off in the morning, taking the local train to reach Dharavi.


I'm not quite sure what I expected really, but it certainly wasn't what we saw there. The word slum conjures images of desolation, poverty and misery - the type of living reminisecent of a tear-jerker Oxfam advert. But Dharavi (where Slumdog Millionnaire was filmed), is anything but. It's progressive, home to multitude of booming industries and has every type of amenity imaginable - clinics, banks, shops, restaurants, schools. There are even private schools there!
Spread across about 550 acres, Dharavi is a cramped, ramshackle affair, connected by claustrophobic, labyrinthine alleyways, patches of wasteground and busy roads. It is densely populated (potentially housing up to 1 million) and the toilet facilities are communal, with thousands sharing the scarce bathrooms. Under the patch-work concrete streets there are sewage channels, full to the brim (by the end of the day I completely regret wearng flipflops; my feet are definitely toxic!). Huge mounds of rubbish dominate areas of wasteland, and despite the stench and abundance of flies, they provide recreational space for the local kids.
On of the most incredible aspects of slum-life is the sheer level of industry that exists. Huge scale operations are in place - from soap-making to leather manufacturing and plastic recycling to food production - the slum really does it all. It is organised, efficient and lucrative, and most importantly, provides a steady source of income for thousands of people. Behind tiny, curtained doors down a dark, quiet alleyways, it is likely that there is a factory of some sort, where people work round the clock.
Probably the most 'admirable' aspect of the slum (I mean that in the least patronising way possible), is the fact that everyone and everyhthing there co-exists, seemingly hassle free. Rats, chickens, goats, stray dogs and skinny flea-ridden cats wander around, seemingly in harmony with the people living there- a diverse mix of Hindus, Muslims, Christians, Gujaratis, businessmen, Rajasthanis, ...the list goes on. The slums seems to be a very inclusive place, and there is a tangible sense of community. People seem happy. The children are content. This is large-scale communal living that really really works.

Mid afternoon, we leave the slum and head back to Fort. It's getting a bit hot and uncomfortable, so me and Xima head to a local cafeteria for lunch - rice, chapatis and various unidentified sauces and dips, washed down with hot, sweet chai. At about 50p, its pretty much ideal. By the time we're finished, it's ideal walking temperature again, so we wander down to the Gateway of Mumbai, probably one of the most tourist-oriented parts of town. It's extremely busy, and we are constantly surrounded by peple asking for photos, so after 10 minutes of duly obliging, we abandon ship and instead head for spacious avenue of Marine Drive for sunset, where we sit on the wall by the sea, people-watching and chatting. It's a breezy night, and ideal for taking in all the sights, sounds and smells of Mumbai. Chai-sellers stroll past (purposefully shouting "chai, chai, chai"), the relentless sound of car horns soon becomes a comforting, background noise and every so often, the smell of incense, or spices (or piss, unfortunately!) will catch my attention.

It's been a beautiful reintroduction to Mumbai, but already I am craving a little peace, so tomorrow night it's off to Goa on the night train. A few days on the beach sounds pretty good right now...

MUMBAI

WHERE TO STAY: Traveller's Inn, Fort. Dorm rooms from Rs 500 per night. Still the best deal in Mumbai, by a mile. Friendly, helpful staff, clean, spacious rooms and an excellent location. Only 10 minutes walk to Mumbai CST (train station).

SLUM TOUR: We paid Rs 650 for a half day with Mystical Mumbai. Highly recommended!

WHERE TO EAT: Every 2nd building is a restaurant, canteen or cafeteria. Food is super-cheap here, so try to avoid the tourist trap places/chain restaurants, where prices can be double or triple. Curry dishes from 50p upwards, chai for about 5p, chapatis for about 7p. Bottled water about 20p.    

GETTING AROUND: The local train network is cheap and efficient, if a little crowded. You have a matter of seconds to exit the train when it stops, so be fast! Tickets fom Rs 20. Taxis are widely availble, and prices are negotiable!

Train to Goa is a sleeper train. Try to book in advance to avoid waiting lists. Journey time is around 10 hours, and I paid Rs 341 for a Sleeper seat (around 3 pounds 50).

There are banks, ATM's kiosks and chemists in abundance in Mumbai, selling everything imaginable. I stocked up on sleeping pills for the train. 10 diazepam for Rs 100 (1 pound).

(Unfortunately, I dont seem to be able to upload pictures just now...am working on it but dont hold your breath!)

Cambodia: Battambang to Phnom Penh, the hinterland to the city...

I am a little sad to be leaving Siem Reap, but given that this has been my first taste of Cambodia, I am excited to see what the rest of this magical country has to offer. Siem Reap is what it is; a busy, bustling, tourist trap, but I have loved it nonetheless, and will probably make a stopover there again before I wrap up my time in Cambodia.
Thankfully  I am not leaving Siem Reap alone either- I have my Spanish travel pal David to hang out with for the rest of my stay here.  Which is a blessing really, because some of the bizarre hinterland places that we stumble across are so quiet and rural that having someone to talk to is a novelty.
Our first stop is Battambang, a really 'local'city devoid of the westernisation of Siem Reap, and a place which is largely neglected by most backpackers. Upon arrival it is easy to see why; there is no city centre as such; no focal point to the town.  Instead, we are met with wide dusty streets, market stalls and little else. Not even that many people.  In fact, I'm almost incredulous to learn that Battambang is one of the largest cities in Cambodia.

Undeterred, we exit the bus and are met with the standard flurry of tuk-tuk drivers jostling to pick up whatever human traffic they can.  Most of them, as usual, offer to take us to our desired accommodation for free so long as we throw a little business their way in the coming days.  Usually I am skeptical about such ploys, but given that Battambang is so spread out, and that most of the main "attractions" are definitely not within a walking distance, this doesnt seem like such a bad deal. There aren't exactly a wealth of places to stay, so we settle on our 2nd choice (while looking around the first place, I fall down a flight of stairs and have to leave out of utter shame), the centrally located Tomato Guesthouse.  At $1.50 (approx £0.90!) each per night for a double ensuite, I definitely can't complain! And of course, we arrange a tuk-tuk trip for the following day, in the hope that we can see a little of the real Cambodia.

Ok, so it's no buzzing metropolis, but Battambang really does have some old-world, sleepy charm that is quite enchanting.  Our first stop on the tuk-tuk tour is a small winery, about 30 minutes drive from the centre of town. There isn't really much to see, but lets face it, we only came here for the wine-tasting at the end. I won't be betraying a Rioja or Malbec any time soon, but for a tiny vineyard in the sticks in Cambodia, I am pleasantly surprised.  The enterprise alone is enough to merit buying a few glasses of not-quite-mature-enough red, or the eye-wateringly potent brandy.

Next stop is the (ahem) "famous" Bamboo train, a must-visit attraction in the town. Basically, it's a small bamboo platform that sits atopsome rickety old tracksand whizzes through the countryside, totally open air.  For $5, it's a cheap and fairly unique way to see a little rural Cambodia. Just bring something comfortable to sit on - it's a rickety and bumpy ride, and bruising is more than likely!

Our final destination in Battambang is one that would make even David Attenborough jealous.  Just 20 minutes outside of town and more-or-less adjacent to a former Khmer genocide site, there is a large rock-face with a convealed cave which is home to (allegedly) more than 2 million bats.  And astonishingly, every night around 6 pm, these bats begin to fly out of the cave in one of the most incredible feats of natural phenomena that  I have ever seen. It starts with one bat, and then steadily increases until there is what I can only describe as a long thin swarm flying out of the cave, all blithely following one another, in thier evening search for food. The whole "show" last about 15 minutes, and given that Battambang isn't particularly a tourist hub, there are only really a handful of binocular-clad anoraks there to witness this speactacle.  I am completely awe-struck, and definitely glad that we stopped off here before out foray in the frantic, manic city of Phnom Penh.

The next morning (after picking the ants our of our backpacks...grrr), we board the bus to Phnom Penh, both ready for some city action again.  6 hours of break-neck driving later and we arrive in the city, a vast, sprawling urban landscape.  A little tuk-tuk negotiation later and we arrive at the one of the cheaper hostels we have come across, The White River.  At $8 per night, it is pretty much half the price of other similar standard accommodation that we have found, and also located in the "backpacker district" - a tangle of streets clustered next to the city's river.

Phnom Penh is not for the faint-hearted.  It's seriously vast, very busy and verging on a little bit seedy.  The main reason that people stop off here is to visit The Killing Fields and the S21 Genocide Museum; 2 brutally sad but important Khmer Rouge legacies. But before we venture out on a day of genocide tourism (inevitable), we decide on explore the city a little.  It's different to Cambodia that I have seen so far; gone are the dirt roads and bicylces, and instead there are colossal American trucks, luxury hotels, high-end restaurants and fancy boutiques. This city, on the face of it at least, is modern, rich and rapidly developing. Perhaps with the end of the old regime, a middle class has emerged here who can afford the lifestyle that Phnom Penh offers.
Of course there is still poverty, but this is different to the rural, agrarian poverty that exists elsewhere. The poverty in the city is almost more heartbreaking; children pound the streets selling books on a genocide that their families lived through, young mothers push their babies in the faces of tourists at street-side bars, hoping for a dollar or two, and young boys, girls and ladyboys alike frequent the myriad bars that essentially sell sex to foreign tourists, who come to Cambodia for widespread availability of young, cheap and willing prostitutes. There are girls walking about here who look no older than 14 or 15, holding hands with old western men who are no-doubt paying for the pleasure.  It's difficult to reoncile my feelings of love for this country, with my overarching guilt at essentially being a "genocide tourist"; a complicit voyeur in sex tourism.

The Killing Fields, or Choeung Ek in Khmer, is about 15 minutes outside of the city and bizarrely located right next to the Angkor Beer Factory.  Although not exactly an enjoyable day out, this open-air museum is one of the most worthwhile excursions I have ever made, in Asia or otherwise.  The entrance fee is a tiny $5, and for this you are given a headset, with facts, information and a wealth of real stories,survivor tales, poems and music, all connnected to Choeung Ek.  The atmosphere here is still very raw,and smiliar to that of Auschwitz or Sachsenhausen; numb and haunting.  The fact that the events of the Killing Fields are such recent history certainly only stands to exacerbate the heightened atmospehere here. During periods of heavy rainfall, buried bones and clothes are still ocassionally washed to the surface, such is the recency of this genocide. Perhaps one of the most emotive sections to the Killing Fields is the so-called "Baby Tree," essentailly a tree where young babies were thrown against to be killed.  And of course, the memorial stupa at the end filled with over 9000 skulls of prisoners.  The Killing Fields really is a humbling place; a place where genocide was not effiicient or organised like the Nazi concentration camps, but instead sporadic, disorganised and brutal. Weapons were not guns or grenades, but instead agriculural tools and shaperned tree leaves. Not that this is any better or worse, of course.  Just different.

 Bizarrely, when we meet our tuk-tuk driver to return to the city following our visit there, he suggests that we might like to finish off our day witha trip to the shooting range.  Ok, so no-one was actually shot at the Killing Fields, but the incongruity of these two excurions; and the irony of this is certainly not lost on me.
 We finish our intense afternoon with a visit to the S21 Genocide Museum, a school-turned-prison/interrogation centre/torture centre for victims of Pol Pot's regime.  It's an eerie place; empty rooms with scratches on the walls, or only a single tiny iron bed rusting away in the corner. It still feels very "real", as though it has been frozen in time actually. Truly harrowing.

Back in the city centre, we decide that it's a must do to sample a bit of the local nightlife, so along with 2 other guys that we meet in a backstreet, me and David head to Pontoon - allegedly the best nightclub in Phnom Penh.  It's a strange mix of locals and foreigners alike, and there are more ladyboys strutting around the dance floor that you can shake a stick at.  To be a bystander in the action here is pretty interesting, particularly as there are so many young Cambodian girls desperately vying for the attention of Western men.  A heady mix of hilarious and tragic.

The following day we will leave Phnom Pehn, bound for the southern Cambodian coast.  I've absorbed about as much cuture as I can take in the past 10 ten days, and am rather looking forward to finding a paradise beach and reading for a few days. The tough life of a gyspy nomad...

BATTAMBANG

Where to Stay: Tomato Guest House.  Prices start from about $3 per room per night. Alternatively, the owners sometimes give roof space for sleeping, at the bargain price of $1.

Where to Eat:  There are a wealth of little stalls set along the river front, selling everything from noodles to filled baguettes.  For around $1, you can eat well.  Alternatively, head to any one of the NGO cafes dotted around the town - stuff your face and it's all for a good cause/.

What to Do: Negotiate a tuk-tuk to take you on a tour around the town.  For anything between $8 to $15 per day (haggle hard!) a tuk tuk will take you to the Banan Vineyard, The Bamboo Train, The Bat Caves and the Killing Caves.  A trip on the bamboo train will set you back $5, and the bat caves are free.

Getting There:  Buses run frequently from Siem Reap and Phnom Pehn.  Prices are generally around $5.

PHNOM PENH

Where to Stay: White River Guest House.  Double rooms for about $8 per night. This is pretty much the cheapest accommodation that we found in the backpacker area of town!

Where to Eat:  Phnom Penh has something for every budget and taste. You can eat on the street for a dollar, or visit any one the vast number of restaurants on the town.  Friends, an NGO tapas place, is perenially busy and serves up delicious tapas dishes.  Be prepared to queue!

What to See:  Obviously The Killing Fields ($5) and the S21 Museum ($2) are the must see sights in the Phnom Penh.  There are a wealth of beautiful palaces dotted around town too, and the wide street along Sisowath Quay is lovely to walk along and people watch. There are heaps of lovely bars along the water to take in a sunset with a beer.  And even better, beers start at around $0.50 per pint. Perfect!

Siem Reap, Cambodia... Travellers Paradise!

A couple of days after new year, and with only 2 days left on my visa, I decide to start  the very long trip from Krabi in southern Thailand, to Siem Reap in northern Cambodia.  It's going to be a bus-laden couple of days of travel, but Cambodia promises greatness, so I'm determined that hours sitting on sweaty, cramped buses is going to be worth it in the end...
The first part of the the trip is the overnight bus from Krabi to Bangkok, where my newly acquired robbery-paranoia means I barely sleep at all, and spend the majority of the night hugging my handbag and checking that the wad of cash I stuffed in my bra is still there.  Thankfully my baht-filled bra is in tact in the morning!

Although I've never had any major disasters at border crossings I'm always a bit anxious about them, and even moreso when they are 'notorious' for being problematic, like the Aryanprathet to Poipet crossing that I am doing. I always panic that my name is going to appear on an Interpol list and I'll be swiftly deported.  Or my washing-machine ruined passport will arouse too much suspicion. And of course, crossing land borders is a bit like going from one area of no-mans land to another area of no-mans land; there are dodgy people aplenty just waiting to relieve of you money, foul-tempered police storming around, black market money changers charging exorbitant commision rates and plenty of confused tourists wandering around looking lost.
A  quick google search will tell you that the Thailand to Cambodia crossing ticks all of these boxes and then some.  In the "Crossing the Border" section below I have listed some advice and tips for anyone about to make this crossing who doesn't want to succumb to the numerous scams and money-making rackets that trip up so many travellers.

Anyways, border business aside, Siem Reap in the north of the country is a well-worn travellers haunt, right next to the amazing temples of Angkor Wat.  Despite a late night arrival (which is always a little dubious) I feel almost instantly happy to be in Cambodia.  Although it's too early to tell exactly what and why, there is something immediately likeable about Siem Reap.  I'm now with another solo female traveller who I met on the bus on the way here, and although it's close to midnight, the vibe of this little town is comfortable enough that both of us are pretty content to wander around with our backpacks looking for somewhere to stay.  We eventually find an amazing little family run guest house, 10 minutes walk from the centre of town (aka Pub Street) where a massive room with 2 double beds costs us only $2 each per night.  Seriously!  That equates to about £1.20 per night.  Unbelievable.

The main draw for travellers coming in to Siem Reap is Angkor Wat, the incredible (and deceptively vast) complex of temples that are spread out next to the town.  There are a few ways to get to the temples, and which ever way you choose will probably depend on how adventurous/energetic you are feeling,and how much time you have.  For people visiting the temples with a 1 day ticket, then negotiating a tuk-tuk ride is probably most beneficial.  One full-day tuk-tuk hire can range in price massively so be prepared to haggle hard! We managed to bargain our driver down to $9 for the full day (the cheapest I have heard of to date), wheresas other were paying in excess of $20.   People with a little more time and a little more interest in the temples might want to invest in a 3-day ticket.  At $40, it's not cheap (especially by Cambodian terms), but it's absolutely the most worthwhile way to see the temples, and can be used on non-consecutive days.  By opting for the 3 day ticket, you can afford to see at least one sunrise, one sunset, a lot more of the smaller, quieter and more obscure temples, and all at a far more leisurely pace. And of course, the most rewarding way to visit the temples is by bicycle.  Starting at $1 per day for hire of old school Dutch-style bone-shakers, the landscape is flat enough that any level of ability or fitness can manage.  Just take a sun-hat...

A very quiet temple...

The temples at Angkor are arguably unrivalled in the world, and for good reason.  The immensity of the whole complex is humbling, and the architecture is so intricate and on such a grand scale that it is almost unbelievable. Our 3 days there, although amazing and totally unforgettable, did have a few drawbacks, however....

1.  Tourists!  Ok, so I know I fall into this category too, but the sheer numbers of tourist visiting this place on a daily basis is verging on ridiculous! From colossal tour groups of Japanese (who pop up in every one of my  pictures somewhere in the background, fingers splayed in the archetypal "v" sign) to rich Americans in minibuses (who only turn up to take the standard photos of sunrise at Angkor Wat then go back to their all-inclusive hotels for breakfast), there are hoardes of people everywhere. That's why it's definitely worth investing in a 3 day pass and seeing some of the smaller temples that are often quieter and much more peaceful.

2. Sellers/Hawkers.  If you've already been to Angkor, then you'll know exactly what I mean.  You can barely walk 2 meters without someone - usually a small child - trying to sell you something.  From postcards to scarves to soft drinks, the calls of "please, only 1 dollaaar" will inevitably eventually grate.  It's sad and of course you find yourself feeling pretty emotional about the plight of these kids and wanting to help, but buying a couple of fridge magnets is not the way.  These kids are smart (when they find out your nationality they will usually impress you with facts and figures about your country or start speaking in your native tongue), and many do attend school already.  So buying from them, or entertaining their often emotional pleas only encourages the 'begging' behaviour.

3. The heat!  Cambodia is HOT!  It may not be a major consideration to most, but it should be.  Spending a full day walking around temples (many of which are fairly exposed) is exhausting, especially in direct or midday sunlight.  Take water. And a hat. And don't forget, it's dusty too, so be prepared to turn the shower-water brown when you get back to your hostel...

Sunset from Sra Srang, Angkor

Of course, Siem Reap isn't all about the temples. It's become a mainstay on the backpacker scene because of the plenty of other attractions that it has.  Ok, so these "attractions" are mostly nighttime based, but nonetheless there is something for everyone here. As well as the raucous "Pub Street" which boasts countless bars and pubs, there is a day market, 2 bustling night markets, a cinema and plenty of restaurants, from upmarket affairs to "happy" pizza joints.  And of course, Happy Hours that run all day, every day...

As night falls, Pub Street becomes increasingly lively, and $1 foot massage stalls and fish pedicure stalls begin to pop up next to street food stands and tuk-tuk drivers incessantly touting for business.  The price of beer becomes cheaper (some places charge as little of $.25 for a Angkor beer) and the market traders are ready to bargain hard.  It;s a thriving, bustling town and despite being a little on the "western" side, I absolutely love Siem Reap.  The Khmer people are friendly; interested and interesting.  And they are so pure and genuine that a simple smile usually breaks the ice.  And of course a smile and joke will go a long when when haggling in the market!
For my first taste of Khmer culture Siem Reap has been fantastic.  It has everything a backpacker could want (minus a beach of course...).  It's cheap, compact, packed with culture and the vibe is just perfect.  I have a great feeling about the rest of my trip through this amazing country...!

Crossing the Border - Aryanaprathet to Poipet

1.  If you are coming to Aryanaprathet (the Thai border town) from Bangkok, then there is absolutely NO need to book a pre-arranged minibus.  Most travel agents on the Khao San Road will charge a small fortune to make the trip to the border, but in fact it is no more difficult (and significantly cheaper) if you do it yourself.   Frequent departures from the northern Mo Chit bus station take only a few hours and prices start at around 260 baht on a comfortable coach.  If you're lucky they might even throw a few snacks in to the deal too.

2. No matter how you arrive in Aryanaprathet, one of the first buildings that you will come across on the way to the border is the "Cambodian Consulate". IGNORE THIS BUILDING!  It is NOT official.  Yes, you can get a valid visa here, but it will cost you DOUBLE the price of visa at the official building further down the line.  It is a rip off.

3. IGNORE ANYONE that offers to help you skip the queue for a fee.  Sure, spend $20 to 'skip' the line if you want...but almost certainly you will still have to wait around at some point. Just be patient. These guys are out to scam you and generally can't get you any further along in the line.  But of course they will take your dollars and feign ignorance (and a sudden lack of English language skill) when you chase them up on this.

4. Make sure you have a couple of passport photos with you already.  If you don't, officials will charge anything from $3 upwards.  And they won't even take your photo! It's simply a money-making racket.

5.  Check the cost of the visa (dependent on nationality) prior to crossing.   Cambodian visa officials are about as corrupt as they come, so visa prices can inexplicably inflate without any warning.   At least if you have a ballpark figure, then you know what you are up against.  Often there is nothing that you can do, but sometimes a bit of gentle "discussion" can work in your favour.

6.  There are buses from Poipet (the border town in Cambodia) to Siem Reap for around $9.  This is about as cheap as you will get.

7.  Arrive as early as possible!  The border closes early evening, and you definitely don;t want to be stuck in Poipet for longer than necessary. And by arriving early, you can avoid standing around in the blistering midday sun for too long.

Siem Reap

Where to Stay - Sweet Dreams Guest House (google it).  Around $4 per room per night.  Brilliant guest house in the Wat Bo Village area of town.  Rooms are massive and super clean. Lively place, but peaceful at night and only 10 minute walk to the centre of town. Such a friendly guest house, run by the lovely Mr Ni and his sons.  A real mix of long stay guests and backpackers.  They can also arrange onwards travel, and have a tuk-tuk and bikes for hire.

Where/What to Eat - The area around Pub Street has tons of eating out options, ranging form western to international to traditional khmer food.  If you find this a little toursity, then look for "local" food stands (anywhere with massive silver pots and pans laid).  You can eat here for less than $1, for a full meal of Khmer curried meat and veg with rice.  And its ususally the most delicious and authentic option.  Otherwise food prices tend to start at $2-3 for basic noodle and rice dishes. Cambodia also has a big French influence, baguettes are available pretty much everywhere.  Such a nice change if you've been alternating between rice and noodles for months!

Drinking - When in Cambodia,drink beer!  Whether it's Angkor, Cambodia or Phnom Penh, they are dirt cheap and it's possible to get drunk on a few dollars, especially during $.25 happy hour.  Cocktails are abundant too, and comparatively cheap.  $1.25 Mojitos can be found in most bars around Pub Street. This is the place to be at night.  There is a venue for everyone, from The Red Piano (upmarket) to The Temple Club (a sweaty dance-fest).

Getting Around -  Siem Reap is compact enough that walking is the most convenient way to get around.  If you want to live like a local then get on yer bike - available pretty much EVERYWHERE for $1 per day.  If you're feeling lazy or are just too drunk then hire a tuk-tuk.  Haggle hard though! It shouldn't cost more than $1-2 to get around town.

Banks - There are ATM's everywhere, although most of them charge a few dollars per transaction, which can quickly add up.  The Canadia Bank, right in the centre of town, does NOT charge transaction fees, so make your withdrawals there.  There is dual currency in operation here - American dollars and Cambodian Riels.  ATM'S only dispense dollars, but you can pay everywhere in dollars, riels or a mixture of both. There are no coins, only notes.  Riels are useful for small purchases, like bottles of water or snacks.  4000 riels is roughly $1.

Chiang Mai to Koh Jum: A roberry, rabid monkeys, a day trip to Burma and why you should never meet an ex on holiday...

With my time in peaceful Pai over, its time for me to make the short but arduous trip back to Chiang Mai, foremostly as it is a prime location for travelers to make a 'visa run' - basically a one day trip to cross a border in to another country and then cross back in to Thailand again, essentially 'restarting' a new visa. Sounds complex enough, but its a necessary requirement of all backpackers wishing to remain in the country longer than the 30 day visa-on-arrival.

The cheapest, quickest and most convenient option from Chiang Mai is the 8 hour round trip to the Mae Sai border in Burma, offered by pretty much every travel agency operating in Chiang Mai. The night before my early morning departure I check in to a cheapish guest house and decide to have an early night in preparation. Unfortunately this doesn't quite pan out, and I am kept awake most of the night by a couple in the room next door arguing, and then inevitably having furiously loud sex. The walls are paper thin and I almost consider giving them a round of applause as I'm absolutely positive they'd hear. My ears are in distress. Starting to regret not bringing ear plugs....

Nevertheless I drag my carcass out of bed at an ungodly hour in the morning and start the visa run trip. Its a smooth enough trip and we are at the border by midday. The bus driver allows us 1 hour to leave Thailand, enter Burma, exit Burma and re-enter Thailand, so its a bit of a mad dash to get everything done in time. But it is do-able! Within 20 minutes I've entered Burma, found the nearest booze shop to stock up on cheap red wine, and re-entered Thailand again.  I'm thankful that we only have 1 hour in Burma though, because as soon a you cross over the border, there are market sellers, tuk-tuk drivers, cigarette vendors etc trying to flog just about everything imaginable.  A little stressful, and it actually reminds me of being in an Indian market.

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Back in Chiang Mai, I meet up with the Pai boys for a few drinks to reward myself, which quickly digresses in to a wild night and culminates in 5am roadside drinking, me getting locked out my guest house, a bleeding and bruised foot and of course a tactical spew in my bin. Thank god I'm not in a dorm...

The following day, once the hangover subsides, I have arranged to take he night bus to Bangkok, and then on to Krabi, as i have agreed to meet a sort-of-ex for Christmas on an island  in Southern Thailand. Prior to leaving for Asia, I had more or less been in a relationship with someone (who all henceforth be referred to as 'The Kunt'), which came to an abrupt end and was never really concluded or resolved.  So we have arranged a Christmas get together, against my better judgment, pretty much just to reach some conclusion.

And the disasterous bus journey that ensues should be the first alarm bells that this get-together is a bad idea and I should TURN BACK NOW.

The journey itself is uneventful (a couple of sleeping pills; lights out) and it's not until I am in Bangkok in a pharmacy when I notice that my wallet is significantly lighter than it was when my journey began.  About £200 lighter.  I feel absolutely sick to my stomach and tip the whole contents of my bag on to the pharmacy counter, sure that I must have just misplaced the money. But I haven't. It's gone, Ive been robbed while asleep and there's nothing I can do about it. Gutted doesnt even begin to cover it.
After a little research I realise that this type of robbery isn't uncommon on Thai buses - especially when the driver has 3 friends accompanying him on the journey, who are all small enough to crawl underneath seats almost undetected.  Really. 

But with another bus journey booked to the south, I don't really have any other choice but to leave Bangkok penniless and pissed off. This journey is ok, probably because i am so paranoid that i sit hugging my bag all night. Yet again, another passenger wakes to discover that they have also been robbed of $600, and others discover that their luggage, which was in the hold, has been tampered with and even burst open. I am rapidly losing patience with Thailand. Perhaps 10 years ago Thailand was a great place to travel;still relatively fresh and undeveloped. But now, with the huge influx of tourism, he country and the people are a lot more jaded. Land of the Smiles? Think the government may need to rethink their marketing.

Arriving in Krabi the following morning, I hop on the boat for Koh Jum, fully expecting that The Kunt is also going to be there, as there is only 1 boat per day. But he isn't, so already we're off to a bad start. The island itself is tiny but picturesque, and has pretty much avoided all development...no 7-11's, no ATM's, and no consistent electricity or internet. Which is lovely- in theory. But the prospect of spending 10 days here with an ex is slowly filling me with dread. And if course he is in fact a day late, so my first day on Koh Jum is rather uneventful bar being chased by a hostile and probably rabid monkey as I am walking through the forest to my bungalow.  I spot it sitting in the trees around the complex and do my best to totally ignore it, but it has other plans and leaps down from the branch it is perched on and makes chase. Hideous! Having decided a rabies injection (or any other medication/injections/disease prevention) is absolutely unnecessary while travelling, this could be Russian (Asian?) roulette.
And now I have to keep a small supply of stones on me at all times, just in case...

Thankfully Koh Jum has some beautiful scenery to keep me amused, and plenty of sunset-photograph opportunities. 



The following day when The Kunt finally decides to grace me with his presence, things rapidly go from bad to downright insufferable. I wont bore you with all the details, but 2 days of bickering and exchanging insults eventually culminates in the mother of all fights (we definitely woke up every single neighbour) where he lists a few reasons why I am just not good enough for him.  Obviously I'm not pertaining to be entirely blameless in all of this, but his behaviour is REPELLENT so I plan an early escape. It's all rather a shame, because there is absolutely nothing salvageable here; no relationship, no friendship, nothing.  Not even the money I've already paid for the accommodation.  Sometimes it's better to walk away.

So I leave feeling  foolish and heavy-hearted and just want to go home and get a cuddle from my mummy and greet in to my pillow, listening to depressing music and watching The Notebook.  But with that out of the question, I do the next best thing.  I find the only guest house on the mainland that can accommodate me over the new year period, and throw myself a 4 day pity-party, drinking homemade tequila with an old Thai man called Mr  Long a reggae bar in the very toursity resort of Ao Nang and watching programmes about homeless drug-addicts in Russia on YouTube.   And by new year, I am feeling good again.
Chapter over - I promise you won't hear about this again!

My time in Thailand is drawing to a close, and it's been a real mixed bag.  I have definitely preferred the northern parts of the country more, where the people are nicer and more genuine, the scenery is much more striking and the general atmosphere is more welcoming.  Thailand has been really surprising for me; I arrived expecting Eastern promise and exotic people, and instead was met with Western development and about as much spirituality as my big toe.  Don't get me wrong - I haven't dislike any of it, but it's certainly not a country that I am dying to return to.

So...next stop, Cambodia!

Visa Run

Chiang Mai to Myannmar (Burma).  Takes around 8 hours altogether, with 1 hour allowed for exiting and then re-entering Thailand.  Loads of companies in Chiang Mai offer this service (in a dedicated mini-van) for around 500-600 baht, transport only.
The cost of entering Burma is $10, or you can pay in Thai baht, but it is much cheaper to pay in dollars.  $10 is roughly the equivalent to 300 baht, whereas the fee to cross in baht is 500.  It's a no-brainer.  Pay in dollars and save 200 baht.  There are people at the border who will change you baht in to dollars before you cross, at a good rate.  Tried and failed to find a single place in Chinag Mai to exchange my baht to dollars.

Crossing back in to Thailand there is no fee, and you are automatically given another 15 days visa stamp (15 days is the standard visa for an overland arrival).

Be careful of market sellers when you cross in to Burma.  A tempting as it might be to buy 4000 fake Marlboros for $2, you probably won't be allowed back in to Thailand with them.

Also - don't lose your Thai departure card (issued when you arrive in the country).  The "fee" for that all important new piece of paper is around $3.

Another word of warning about the night buses in Thailand: NEVER leave a bag unattended and wear a money belt if possible. Even leaving your bag at your feet is not advisable.  I may sound paranoid but being robbed is a horrible feeling.

The Pai Life: Casual Racism, Cooking Classes and my Date with an Old Thai Man...

The road to Pai, a town about 4 hours north of Chiang Mai, is really not a pleasant one.  Not in the slightest.  Ok, so the scenery may be beautiful, but there are 762 break-neck bends, sharp twists and death defying corners to negotiate along the way, and almost as soon as I set foot on the minibus I can fee the nausea rising.  Thankfully, my last night in Chiang Mai was a sober affair - I cannot imagine anything worse than tackling this road with a hangover...

Strangely, a very bizarre incident occurs on the bus that leaves most of the passengers totally aghast.  First of all, it;s important to know that the north of Thailand is a really chilled out place.  Almost horizontal.  Time is irrelevant here; everything runs on 'Thai time' (approximately 1 hour behind any time that you are quoted). It's simply a relaxed place.
So imagine the collective gasps of disgust when 'Giorgio', a flamboyant and completely arrogant Italian backpacker has a wild tantrum mid journey, because his friend is on a different minibus. Now don't get me wrong - I understand that it must be a truly traumatic experience, as an adult male, to be separated from your friend for a 4 hour bus journey.  No one to hold hands with, cuddle up to, or just share a bag of sweets with.  Unthinkable.
Giorgio, the hero of the story, really took this separation badly and began a tirade of abuse at the driver (because obviously the buck stops with him) which culminated in a unashamed racist rant about about 'stupid fucking monkeys.'  Which leads me to spend a great deal of time in the coming weeks pondering why on earth xenophobic racists bother travelling in the place?  If anyone can shed some light on this...

Thankfully the bus journey is not all bad, and I meet Taylor, Aidan and Phil, 2 Canadians and and English guy, so we agree to meet for drinks at a bar in town in the evening. Pai is a tiny little town nestled in a beautiful mountainous valley, so it doesn't take long to find some accommodation.  Strangely, 'Family Huts', the accommodation I choose, doesn't actually have any free rooms for the first evening of my stay, but the owner seems mad-keen for me to hang around (for reasons which will be explained later...) and offers me the laundry cupboard for the night - at a very discounted price, of course. Why not?!

After a short walk around the town (this takes all of 20 minutes - lots of little boutiques, cafes, health food bars etc) I get ready to meet the guys for drinks, and recruit Max, a Californian weed farmer who is also staying at the bungalows.  We start at The Good Life bar, a hippy little affair with wheatgrass growing everywhere and a good selection of teas and beers from across the world.  A civilised start to an evening which progresses in to reggae bars, techno clubs (even in this quaint little village!) and a crazed American Hells Angel who also seems to have a bit of a racist attitude. Luckily I don't think his young Thai wife could understand what he was saying...

Pai is the first place I have really encountered in Thailand where the climate is far more agreeable for my pale Scottish skin and aversion to baking heat.  Of course it is sweltering during the day, but early morning and night time are actually pretty chilly here; scarves, gloves and woolly jumpers are needed!

The majority of my time here is spent frequenting the local bars with the guys, drinking coffee and wandering around the markets, which are excellent.  There's a thriving arts/alternative scene here, so it's possible to find things that are unique and a welcome change form all the usual tat that tourist oriented markets sell.

But it's not all drinking and being totally unproductive. While I'm here, I decide to enrol on a cookery course and learn how to make all these delicious curries, soups and sweets that are menu staples.  I search round and come across Red Orchid, an Thai-English run place that allows student to pick 5 dishes to cook over the course of a full day, and all for just 600 baht.  Dao, the teacher, is a lovely woman, very patient and very funny. By a stroke of luck, there is only 1 other person doing the course with me, so we pretty much have her full attention form 9 am till 9pm (with a nap-break in the middle when I start to fall in to a food-coma...).  By the end of the day, I am a veritable expert on green curry, pad thai, sticky rice with mango, khao soy and spring rolls.  And at least 2 stones heavier.

Because of it's compact size but vast and beautiful outlying scenery, Pai is a great place to hire a motorbike and take off in to the wilderness.  I haven't ridden one since India, but soon I'm a pro again and zipping about the countryside visting waterfalls and beauty spots.  It's great to have a little bit of freedom too, and not be so reliant on public transport or organised tours.

In true Charlotte style, no stay in another country would be complete without something completely ridiculous happening to me (or more like me agreeing to something completely ridiculous!)  Toyo, the overly keen 50 year old owner of the bungalows I am staying at corners me one evening (once all the boys have moved on to pastures new and I am alone again) and asks me out for drinks.  And I can think of absolutely nothing to say; i have no excuse not to go.  Not one. So I find myself agreeing to be taken to some local live music bars to drink and party.  Jesus.
Now don't get me wrong - he's a lovely man.  But I'm not really on the look for an ageing Thai boyfriend who's masquerading as a Rastafarian. I do have a fairly hilarious night though, knocking back red wine and listening to reggae.  But Toyo manages to sour it a little by constantly saying that he will "wait for me". I'm not entirely sure what he means by this, but images of Jack and Rose a la Titanic, professing their undying love for one another spring to mind.
Hell, I have to invent a fake boyfriend to deter him!

And on that note it's time to say goodbye to Pai.  There is something totally compelling, charming and enchanting about this place, and I am yet to meet another person who hasn't enjoyed their time here.  If you're looking for constant action and stimulation, this probably isn't the place for you.  But for a tiny mountain town there is plenty to keep occupied for as long as you want.

Pai

How to get there:  From Chiang Mai minibuses run pretty much on the hour every hour from 7 am till 5pm.  Depending on where you book, tickets range in price from 150 baht to 200 baht.

Where to stay:  Family Huts bungalows.  Lovely establishment based across the river, and one of the cheaper private options.  A single bungalows with fan and shared bathroom will set you back 150 baht per night.

Where to eat/drink:  Plenty of places to choose from here, all ranging in quality, prices and type of food available.  Loads of options for street food at the night market, and stalls selling the local dish Khao Soy (red curry with noodles) during the day for around 40 baht.  The Good Life is a jack-of-all-trades places, selling health foods, beers, coffees, different teas, great food and is very reasonably priced.  They also offer a book exchange.

Motorbikes:  A few places offer them but the mot reliable and established is right on the main street next to the bus stop.  Bikes are automatic or semi-automatic and are 100 baht per day.  Insurance can be added for 40 baht.  Petrol will set you back around 40 baht per litre.

Cooking:  Red Orchid cookery school, situated off a little back street in the centre of town.  Prices start at 600 baht for 5 dishes.  Excellent teacher!

Chiang Mai: Yoga, Reggae and the Case of the Missing Knickers...

After my final foray in frantic Bangkok, it's time to start working my way north, towards Chiang Mai, and the elusive Pai, which I consistently hear good things about.  To split up my journey, I decide to stop of in Ayuttayah, a fairly uninspiring temple-town around 3 hours north of Bangkok.  The 2 nights I spend there are largely comprised of phlegm, coughing, sneezing and repeated trips to the pharmacy for sleeping tablets.  Air conditioning is both a blessing and a burden for every traveller at some point! Nonetheless Ayuttayah is a pleasant little diversion, and turns out to be fruitful when I meet David while we are both waiting on the night train to Chiang Mai. David is a Spanish backpacker (and my new gay-best-friend/bitching partner/wine appreciator/mojito drinking buddy) who will become my travel mate at various stages in the coming weeks.

The train is long and slow and finally rolls in to Chiang Mai after 15 hours.  David decides to join me at a guest house that I've heard about, so we head there straight away and are lucky to find a couple of rooms; funnily enough, the hippy reggae bar frequented by laidback stoners is perpetually popular (!) so getting a room can often be tricky. 
Chinag Mai very much feels like a small town, with most of the action and main attractions contained within the city walls.  But actually, outwith the comfort of the walls, the city is large and sprawling,  In any case it has a laidback, relaxed and very friendly vibe, and is easily the kind of place where you can stay for a couple of weeks without ever getting bored.  There is something for everyone here; from cookery courses to jungle treks and artisan coffee shops to buzzing bars. 
I have primarily come to Chiang Mai to do yoga. It's been a few months, but there are an abundance of courses available here, and I eventually decide on one which is not only very reasonably priced but close to my guest house (making the morning classes more realistic to attend...) And so begins 8 days of twice-daily yoga at the Blue Garden.  The first day is tough, but soon I'm back in to the habit and feeling zen/chi/whatever.

Sadly my inner peace is abruptly shattered midway through my stay in Chiang Mai, by a thoroughly traumatic event.  An event so hideous that I can still feel the repercussions now.  I idly wander along to the street to collect my freshly laundered clothes, and am aghast to discover that several items are missing.  And not just any items.  Only underwear.  Probably around 7 pairs of knickers.  Naturally I rush back and demand that they find the missing knickers, but this is a fruitless task.  They  are gone; wrongly delivered to someone else.  Though I suspect most likely delivered to some delighted ladyboy, delighted with his/her new Primark smalls.  Now I understand that this may seem like a dramatic overreaction, but buying new undergarmets in Thailand is no mean feat, particulary when you are over 5 feet tall and 7 stone in weight. And don't particularly want crotchless pants/padded pants/granny pants that resemble nappies.  Alas!

Luckily this is my only Chiang Mai disaster, and I have a great time for the duration of my stay, visiting the incredible temples, practicing yoga daily and whiling away the days in coffee shops and bars idly reading and people watching.  One day, I decide to skip yoga altogether and take a trip outside of the town, to go to Doi Ithanon national park.  Although part of an organised excursion, I have an action packed and enjoyable day elephant trekking, visiting local hill-tribe villages and paddy fields and bamboo rafting along the sleepy rivers that weave through the lush mountains. Well worth the 700 baht cost.

My time in Chiang Mai also coincides with the annual reggae festival that takes place here, and me and David decide go along to the one day event and enjoy a day of drinking cheap pineapple and rosella wine and SangSom Rum while enjoying some really laidback reggae.  It's a a very chilled out festival, and the atmosphere is perfect.  But of course afternoon boozing in the sunshine ends as it typically does - passed out comatose and fully clothed with a cheese and him micro-toastie from the 7-11. Needless to say I am brutally hungover the following day, and for some utterly inexplicable reason decide that morning yoga will alleviate the pain.
No.  This is a huge mistake. Yoga does not cure a hangover.  Instead I only garner disapproving looks from the instructor as I rush off in the middle of a downwards dog to vomit and shiver in the bathroom.  Lesson learned!

The rest of my time in this action-packed little city is spent perusing the wares at the local markets, which are brilliant here.  The weekend market which takes over the streets around Th Pae Gate area of town is particularly good; loads of local and international street food, leathers, silks, jewelley, bags, clothing...  Shoppers paradise, so long as you haggle hard!

As my time in Chiang Mai is coming to an close, I organise my onward travel to Pai, I town that I have been promised that I will love.  I'm hoping it lives up to expectations...

Chiang Mai

Where to Stay:  Giant 2 Guest House, near the Chinag Mai Gate.  Single fan room cost 180 baht and are clean and shared bathrooms with hot running water.  The guest house is very friendly and also offers free tea, real coffee and bottled water.

Where to Eat:  There are loads of places to choose, from street stalls selling 35 baht pad thai, to restaurants serving Asian and Western cuisine.  2 excellent places serving cheap and delicious food are 'Bunny Cafe' in the city walls, and 'Regina', an art shop cum restaurant overlooking the river.

Yoga:  I practiced at the Blue Garden, where drop in classes start at 200 baht and weekly/monthy/10 cards passes can also be bought.  Excellent, patient instruction and possible for all abilities.  Recommended!

Travel:  The main part of the city is really walkable, but most guest houses will also rent out bicycles at a daily rate of around 50 baht.  Shared taxis (songthaews) will cost 50-100 baht depending on the length of journey.

Getting there:  Train is by fat the most scenic and comfortable way to get to Chaing Mai, from either Bangkok or Ayuttayah.  It takes longer than the bus the journey is worth it.  Just make sure to book a few days in advance.  The overnight ticket in a regular non-sleeper seat cost me around 400 baht.