^Taxi! China's funky answer to the tuktuk challenge.
^Out on the town with the JX crew... Ms Dong, the Doc, Maaaichael, and Yours.
^I'll take two.
^Comrades.
^2% beer is better than 1%.
^We want to be eaten!
Sunday, 7 December 2008
Jiaxing
Jiaxing always amazes:
^Taxi! China's funky answer to the tuktuk challenge.
^Out on the town with the JX crew... Ms Dong, the Doc, Maaaichael, and Yours.
^Comrades.
^2% beer is better than 1%.
^We want to be eaten!
^Taxi! China's funky answer to the tuktuk challenge.
^Out on the town with the JX crew... Ms Dong, the Doc, Maaaichael, and Yours.
^Comrades.
^2% beer is better than 1%.
^We want to be eaten!
Tuesday, 2 December 2008
Shanghai
When I think about it, I really like midday flights.
Early morning flights are terrible; I tend to get very little sleep the night before making it nigh on impossible to raise myself from slumber in time for the flight.
Evening flights are the worst, particularly long-haul ones. It's hard to sleep (perverse as it is, this is my experience), and there's always more work to do after hitting the tarmac. There's finding a taxi, driving a couple of hours to the next city, and helping the driver find the hotel in unfamiliar territory (this can take some time, the best plan is to change to a local taxi).
Midday flights on the other hand let you sleep in a little and enjoy the morning. I had a midday flight to Shanghai yesterday, which I was rather happy about. It's easy to get blase on a slow morning though, and getting sucked into Wikipedia can be dangerous. With 100 unread tabs open I realised I had about 10 minutes to pack, get breakfast, check out, and get to the airport by the recommended time. The airport wasn't far and traffic was light, so I arrived with plenty of time as it turned out.
I had a lighter in my carry-on bag (I don't smoke, but it was a cool lighter), and even though the bag was full of batteries, adapters, two phones, ipod, chargers, camera bits, etc - the x-ray image was a complete mess - the security suits found it. I guess the machine can identify and highlight certain density and/or chemical signatures - probably in the butane gas, I don't know. I had forgotten it was there, and they didn't tell me what they were looking for at first. I thought they would be satisfied after removing my camera lens, which is frequently mistaken for a bottle, but no. They told me what they were looking for and started digging around, it didn't take long to find. I got a rather unimpressed, yet unimpressive "you aren't allowed to take that onboard", and it was promptly confiscated. No questions, no warnings, nothing. I returned a dumb look, said ok, and was on my way.
With half an hour to spare I found a cafe and sat down with the Doc, my colleague and travel companion. 58 RMB for a coffee... A few months back the NZD was pushing 6 RMB. $10 for a coffee would have been steep, but agreeable considering this was the last stop after customs and immigration (anything for sale in an airport departure lounge is by default extortionately overpriced). Unfortunately the NZD has taken a battering of late, and it's currently down to about 3.6 RMB. That's $16 for a coffee. No.
We stumble upon a Star Alliance lounge, something neither of us were expecting a small town (with its mere 6 million pax) airport like this to have. Gold card in hand we slipped into a land of free coffee, biscuits, and blaring, tasteless elevator music.
The departure lounge resembled a local market more than anything, with a large fruit and vege stall and shops selling all manner of toys. Oh, and people everywhere. We board. I watch The Graduate on my laptop. The friendly Chinese man next to me watches some of it too, taking particular interest in the scene where Ben takes Elaine to a strip club. The lunch and service is surprisingly good. I doze off...
...Rough landing. Everyone gets up as soon as the plane pulls into the gate, still moving, seat belt sign positively still on. I go for my luggage in the overhead locker. People swarm past, pushing and shoving. I stand back and block the aisle, to little effect. So much for being 6" and wearing a leather jacket! Apparently, as long as I can't see who's pushing, they'll be ok. Even with nowhere to go, with plane doors still closed, immigration counters for Africa, plenty of luggage trolleys, etc, people are still running, pushing, and shoving. The mentality is odd, yet understandable when put in context. China is a harsh place, fear is pervasive and survival is key. I figure the thought process goes something like this: While I don't have any particular hurry, nor is there any immediate need to get ahead of everyone around me, I must try to gain an edge. If don't I will be disadvantaged in some way when unforeseen circumstances arise in the near future.
Taxi to Jiaxing. I doze, snap pictures of the setting sun through the thick smog. Check in. Dinner. Sleep.
Early morning flights are terrible; I tend to get very little sleep the night before making it nigh on impossible to raise myself from slumber in time for the flight.
Evening flights are the worst, particularly long-haul ones. It's hard to sleep (perverse as it is, this is my experience), and there's always more work to do after hitting the tarmac. There's finding a taxi, driving a couple of hours to the next city, and helping the driver find the hotel in unfamiliar territory (this can take some time, the best plan is to change to a local taxi).
Midday flights on the other hand let you sleep in a little and enjoy the morning. I had a midday flight to Shanghai yesterday, which I was rather happy about. It's easy to get blase on a slow morning though, and getting sucked into Wikipedia can be dangerous. With 100 unread tabs open I realised I had about 10 minutes to pack, get breakfast, check out, and get to the airport by the recommended time. The airport wasn't far and traffic was light, so I arrived with plenty of time as it turned out.
I had a lighter in my carry-on bag (I don't smoke, but it was a cool lighter), and even though the bag was full of batteries, adapters, two phones, ipod, chargers, camera bits, etc - the x-ray image was a complete mess - the security suits found it. I guess the machine can identify and highlight certain density and/or chemical signatures - probably in the butane gas, I don't know. I had forgotten it was there, and they didn't tell me what they were looking for at first. I thought they would be satisfied after removing my camera lens, which is frequently mistaken for a bottle, but no. They told me what they were looking for and started digging around, it didn't take long to find. I got a rather unimpressed, yet unimpressive "you aren't allowed to take that onboard", and it was promptly confiscated. No questions, no warnings, nothing. I returned a dumb look, said ok, and was on my way.
With half an hour to spare I found a cafe and sat down with the Doc, my colleague and travel companion. 58 RMB for a coffee... A few months back the NZD was pushing 6 RMB. $10 for a coffee would have been steep, but agreeable considering this was the last stop after customs and immigration (anything for sale in an airport departure lounge is by default extortionately overpriced). Unfortunately the NZD has taken a battering of late, and it's currently down to about 3.6 RMB. That's $16 for a coffee. No.
We stumble upon a Star Alliance lounge, something neither of us were expecting a small town (with its mere 6 million pax) airport like this to have. Gold card in hand we slipped into a land of free coffee, biscuits, and blaring, tasteless elevator music.
The departure lounge resembled a local market more than anything, with a large fruit and vege stall and shops selling all manner of toys. Oh, and people everywhere. We board. I watch The Graduate on my laptop. The friendly Chinese man next to me watches some of it too, taking particular interest in the scene where Ben takes Elaine to a strip club. The lunch and service is surprisingly good. I doze off...
...Rough landing. Everyone gets up as soon as the plane pulls into the gate, still moving, seat belt sign positively still on. I go for my luggage in the overhead locker. People swarm past, pushing and shoving. I stand back and block the aisle, to little effect. So much for being 6" and wearing a leather jacket! Apparently, as long as I can't see who's pushing, they'll be ok. Even with nowhere to go, with plane doors still closed, immigration counters for Africa, plenty of luggage trolleys, etc, people are still running, pushing, and shoving. The mentality is odd, yet understandable when put in context. China is a harsh place, fear is pervasive and survival is key. I figure the thought process goes something like this: While I don't have any particular hurry, nor is there any immediate need to get ahead of everyone around me, I must try to gain an edge. If don't I will be disadvantaged in some way when unforeseen circumstances arise in the near future.
Taxi to Jiaxing. I doze, snap pictures of the setting sun through the thick smog. Check in. Dinner. Sleep.
Monday, 1 December 2008
Kunming
TG-6169 from Chiang Mai to Kunming. Our waitlist came through (thank yooouuu, Star Alliance Gold! Priority waitlisting is a good friend), and we had a flight out of Chiang Mai, even destined for the right country. The flight was delayed several hours, and with each successive schedule delay I grew more suspicious it would eventually get cancelled, which it fortunately didn't. The pilot said it was Thai air's only flight out of Chiang Mai that day, presumably all their planes were stranded in Bangkok. The flight was full, many passengers had taken buses and trains from Bangkok to get there.
Landing in Kunming we headed to the airport information counter in search of a place to stay. The 'Green Land' hotel, 5 stars according to the girl at the counter, had rooms available - excellent, just what we were looking for. Then it was off to the Shanghai Airlines counter for tickets the following morning (today, Monday). They didn't take visa, so I had to extract a wad of red chairman Maos from the hole in the wall. International credit cards are great.
Taxi to the hotel. Dump bags. Inspect the hotel restaurant. Decide to give it a miss since the lights are out and the only person there is a lone waitress. 'Bad hygiene' translates to 'Terrible hygiene' without turnover, you get the picture.
We trek to Maccas, after the Doctor goes back for his jacket. Thailand is warm; Kunming, although only 1 hour north, is cold. Maybe it's those westerly winds off the Himalayas. We pass several gangs of workers with mallets and hatchets pounding the road, apparently removing the white markings. Some stare back at us, then return lazily to their pounding.
We come to an intersection and wait for the green cross light. We take it, and get half way over when a taxi comes screaming around the corner (presumably through a red light), straight for us and showing no signs deceleration. We dodge. Two or three more follow, we dodge again. We walk along the footpath, which is irregular and attended by various obstacles. I stray onto the bike lane, wide enough for 1.5 cars, and almost get hit by a speeding cyclist approaching without warning from behind. Once more I'm reminded of the mayhem and utter chaos in China.
We pass a small collection of street vendors selling various poultry giblets, pig intestine, etc. Nostrils stinging, we push on toward those holy golden arches. Ah, a sanctuary in the midst of a gastric desert! Enter. Locals stare at us, foregoing subtlety. Order - Big Mac combo. Refuell. Return to hotel, fall asleep to the sound of metal clashing with stone 22 floors below. It sounds like rain on a tin roof.
Kunming skyline
Synergy?
Landing in Kunming we headed to the airport information counter in search of a place to stay. The 'Green Land' hotel, 5 stars according to the girl at the counter, had rooms available - excellent, just what we were looking for. Then it was off to the Shanghai Airlines counter for tickets the following morning (today, Monday). They didn't take visa, so I had to extract a wad of red chairman Maos from the hole in the wall. International credit cards are great.
Taxi to the hotel. Dump bags. Inspect the hotel restaurant. Decide to give it a miss since the lights are out and the only person there is a lone waitress. 'Bad hygiene' translates to 'Terrible hygiene' without turnover, you get the picture.
We trek to Maccas, after the Doctor goes back for his jacket. Thailand is warm; Kunming, although only 1 hour north, is cold. Maybe it's those westerly winds off the Himalayas. We pass several gangs of workers with mallets and hatchets pounding the road, apparently removing the white markings. Some stare back at us, then return lazily to their pounding.
We come to an intersection and wait for the green cross light. We take it, and get half way over when a taxi comes screaming around the corner (presumably through a red light), straight for us and showing no signs deceleration. We dodge. Two or three more follow, we dodge again. We walk along the footpath, which is irregular and attended by various obstacles. I stray onto the bike lane, wide enough for 1.5 cars, and almost get hit by a speeding cyclist approaching without warning from behind. Once more I'm reminded of the mayhem and utter chaos in China.
We pass a small collection of street vendors selling various poultry giblets, pig intestine, etc. Nostrils stinging, we push on toward those holy golden arches. Ah, a sanctuary in the midst of a gastric desert! Enter. Locals stare at us, foregoing subtlety. Order - Big Mac combo. Refuell. Return to hotel, fall asleep to the sound of metal clashing with stone 22 floors below. It sounds like rain on a tin roof.
Kunming skyline
Synergy?
Sunday, 30 November 2008
Dawn till Dusk
I'm glad to report riots have yet to break out in Chiang Mai and the airport remains open (I can see planes in transit from my hotel window).
The closest I got to the political clash was seeing red and yellow taxis in close company, and I must admit I don't know if taxi colour even denotes political alignment in these parts. Anyway, it was an interesting coincidence. Reds are Thaksin/government supporters, yellows are PAD (read: anarchy) supporters.
Word from my boss's girlfriend's friend's Thai army general father ('s flatmate's ex-hair stylist's postman's....) is that there might be a coup today, so I'm remaining vigilant... in fact, I'm taking the car and heading for the hills (with two colleagues, we've decided we need to celebrate our first Saturday not stuck in a factory).
We headed east towards San Kamphaeng, with no particular idea where we were going. We crossed some hills, and stumbled upon the Mae Takhrai National Park. We drove up to the visitors' centre, where we were greeted by a friendly Thai man, presumably a park ranger manning the headquarters, who apparently didn't speak a word of English. He gave me a large pile of pamphlets, mostly in Thai. I found one in English, the leaves crackling as I opened it. Apparently it had been there a while. There were cobwebs on the some of the others. I thanked him, and went to use the men's room before continuing our journey. There were cobwebs in the urinal, which smelt as fresh as a urinal unused for months. Brown water gushed from the faucet.
We encountered many cryptic signs along the way,
as we meandered along friendly rural backgroads.
We came to a lake, where a woman was angling for bite-sized fish.
She heard me step onto the rickety bamboo jetty; turned, smiled, said something in Thai, and went back to flipping her line. Her dog seemed disinterested in me, and the tiny fish being caught.
Zammo experimented with a trick to lighting a fire from little kindling, which involves opposing thumbs and index fingers pressed together to make a small hole, then blowing through the hole. Apparently it creates a concentrated jet of air, delivering oxygen to the fire. It didn't seem to work, but looked pretty funny.
Zammo up to no good:
Looking toward the setting sun through trees along the lakeside:
There was a hut with some facilities in dire need of attention. The door was stuck in soil, presumably after the last monsoon:
Sun setting over the lake:
We left the lake just before the sun went down, and drove 7km north to a lookout point. The road, although wide and sealed, was little used. Clumps of grass scattered the asphalt, which was covered in leaves and stones. Almost a ghost highway, it was quite strange. It transitioned abruptly into unsealed road.
We reached the top just after sunset as the crescent moon, stars, and town lights began to appear. The view down the valley was impressive; Zammo joked this was probably a popular make-out spot for the locals, just as I spotted an empty wrapper, eww!
We took some photos of the sunset, and lit a fire.
We drove back to Chiang Mai, half expecting to see tanks on the street. Much to our disappointment it seemed to be business as usual. I went to the night market and bought Christmas gifts for my manifold young nieces and nephews, and some t-shirts and Cuban cigars.
The closest I got to the political clash was seeing red and yellow taxis in close company, and I must admit I don't know if taxi colour even denotes political alignment in these parts. Anyway, it was an interesting coincidence. Reds are Thaksin/government supporters, yellows are PAD (read: anarchy) supporters.
Word from my boss's girlfriend's friend's Thai army general father ('s flatmate's ex-hair stylist's postman's....) is that there might be a coup today, so I'm remaining vigilant... in fact, I'm taking the car and heading for the hills (with two colleagues, we've decided we need to celebrate our first Saturday not stuck in a factory).
We headed east towards San Kamphaeng, with no particular idea where we were going. We crossed some hills, and stumbled upon the Mae Takhrai National Park. We drove up to the visitors' centre, where we were greeted by a friendly Thai man, presumably a park ranger manning the headquarters, who apparently didn't speak a word of English. He gave me a large pile of pamphlets, mostly in Thai. I found one in English, the leaves crackling as I opened it. Apparently it had been there a while. There were cobwebs on the some of the others. I thanked him, and went to use the men's room before continuing our journey. There were cobwebs in the urinal, which smelt as fresh as a urinal unused for months. Brown water gushed from the faucet.
We encountered many cryptic signs along the way,
as we meandered along friendly rural backgroads.
We came to a lake, where a woman was angling for bite-sized fish.
She heard me step onto the rickety bamboo jetty; turned, smiled, said something in Thai, and went back to flipping her line. Her dog seemed disinterested in me, and the tiny fish being caught.
Zammo experimented with a trick to lighting a fire from little kindling, which involves opposing thumbs and index fingers pressed together to make a small hole, then blowing through the hole. Apparently it creates a concentrated jet of air, delivering oxygen to the fire. It didn't seem to work, but looked pretty funny.
Zammo up to no good:
Looking toward the setting sun through trees along the lakeside:
There was a hut with some facilities in dire need of attention. The door was stuck in soil, presumably after the last monsoon:
Sun setting over the lake:
We left the lake just before the sun went down, and drove 7km north to a lookout point. The road, although wide and sealed, was little used. Clumps of grass scattered the asphalt, which was covered in leaves and stones. Almost a ghost highway, it was quite strange. It transitioned abruptly into unsealed road.
We reached the top just after sunset as the crescent moon, stars, and town lights began to appear. The view down the valley was impressive; Zammo joked this was probably a popular make-out spot for the locals, just as I spotted an empty wrapper, eww!
We took some photos of the sunset, and lit a fire.
We drove back to Chiang Mai, half expecting to see tanks on the street. Much to our disappointment it seemed to be business as usual. I went to the night market and bought Christmas gifts for my manifold young nieces and nephews, and some t-shirts and Cuban cigars.
Friday, 28 November 2008
Anarchy.
In 2006, when I visited Thailand for the first time, the country was dusting itself off from it's 18th military coup. As I write this in my hotel in Chiang Mai, I wonder if I'm about to witness the next episode in the series.
Bangkok is closed to commercial flights after PAD (Peoples' Alliance for Democracy) protesters took control and shut down both of the city's airports in a desperate attempt to blackmail the (democratically elected) government into resigning.
Many travelers have been stuck in Suvarnabhumi airport for days now, wondering what it all has do with them.
Thailand's economy and public image will take years to recover, if it ever does.
Several people have been killed in pro- and anti-government clashes. A taxi driver was pulled from his car and shot dead in Chiang Mai, where happen to reside.
I'm supposed to be in China on Monday, a place I usually dread visiting. But with increasing civil unrest and political instability in Thailand, the prospect of escaping to China is starting to look far more appealing.
The only problem is getting out. Bangkok is closed, and international flights out of CNX are full. And even if I got a seat, there might not be a plane as many are apparently stuck in Bangkok. With the Prime Minister in Chiang Mai there's also a chance rioters will storm and close CNX.
I hope not, but I'm starting to think it would be a good plan to get bus tickets to Vientiane and high-tail it outta here. I'll keep you posted.
Bangkok is closed to commercial flights after PAD (Peoples' Alliance for Democracy) protesters took control and shut down both of the city's airports in a desperate attempt to blackmail the (democratically elected) government into resigning.
Many travelers have been stuck in Suvarnabhumi airport for days now, wondering what it all has do with them.
Thailand's economy and public image will take years to recover, if it ever does.
Several people have been killed in pro- and anti-government clashes. A taxi driver was pulled from his car and shot dead in Chiang Mai, where happen to reside.
I'm supposed to be in China on Monday, a place I usually dread visiting. But with increasing civil unrest and political instability in Thailand, the prospect of escaping to China is starting to look far more appealing.
The only problem is getting out. Bangkok is closed, and international flights out of CNX are full. And even if I got a seat, there might not be a plane as many are apparently stuck in Bangkok. With the Prime Minister in Chiang Mai there's also a chance rioters will storm and close CNX.
I hope not, but I'm starting to think it would be a good plan to get bus tickets to Vientiane and high-tail it outta here. I'll keep you posted.
Tuesday, 18 November 2008
Loi Krathong, Chiang Mai
I've been coming to Chiang Mai for the last two years. The first year I came here (2006) I arrived in mid November, a few days after the Loi Krathong festival. The second year (2007), I arrived at the start of December.
This year I planned my flights better and arrived in time. It was worth it! This timelapse image shows lanterns going up all over the city.
This year I planned my flights better and arrived in time. It was worth it! This timelapse image shows lanterns going up all over the city.
Tuesday, 11 November 2008
5 Easy Steps to a Horrible 48 Hours
1. Down a burger from No 1. Takeaways in Balmoral.
2. Get on a long-haul flight, and ensure you roll hoi polloi (failing this, somehow forsake all physical comforts).
3. Await symptoms of food poisoning from Step 1.
4. Hammer that bathroom over the next 10 hours.
5. Spend 9 hours at Changi waiting for connecting flight, ensure this is done in total agony.
This last step probably applies less to Singapore's airport than others; the ground staff noted I wasn't looking too well and put me in a wheel chair like the jolly good folks they are. I was a bit of sight stumbling around and they probably just wanted me to stop scaring people...
Alternatively, watch The X-Files: I want to believe as I did on the flight. It was an equally painful experience.
2. Get on a long-haul flight, and ensure you roll hoi polloi (failing this, somehow forsake all physical comforts).
3. Await symptoms of food poisoning from Step 1.
4. Hammer that bathroom over the next 10 hours.
5. Spend 9 hours at Changi waiting for connecting flight, ensure this is done in total agony.
This last step probably applies less to Singapore's airport than others; the ground staff noted I wasn't looking too well and put me in a wheel chair like the jolly good folks they are. I was a bit of sight stumbling around and they probably just wanted me to stop scaring people...
Alternatively, watch The X-Files: I want to believe as I did on the flight. It was an equally painful experience.
Sunday, 9 November 2008
A mellow monday morning.
It's 12.35am, I'm sitting in the lounge at Auckland airport waiting for a long flight to Singapore... It's very mellow indeed.
Tuesday, 9 September 2008
Bang!
Somewhere in Phnom Penh, something just got scorched.
I'm glad it wasn't me...
Meanwhile, back in Bangkok. Indra, Thor, and Zeus - gods of thunder, lightning, and all things that go boom in the night, unleashed 1,000 bolts of lightning onto the City of Angels, one for each of Thailand's military coups.
...but not all at once of course, I just made a really long exposure. The picture was taken out my hotel window. I contemplated standing on the roof to get a better view, but thought better of it...
I'm glad it wasn't me...
Meanwhile, back in Bangkok. Indra, Thor, and Zeus - gods of thunder, lightning, and all things that go boom in the night, unleashed 1,000 bolts of lightning onto the City of Angels, one for each of Thailand's military coups.
...but not all at once of course, I just made a really long exposure. The picture was taken out my hotel window. I contemplated standing on the roof to get a better view, but thought better of it...
Friday, 29 August 2008
"If you can read this, the family fell off."
Poor bike... Auckland cars are spoilt rotten!
This is a daily spectacle in Thailand, but just when you think you've seen it all... I was in Siem Reap and encountered the most comical scene: Middle-aged father (presumably) on bike holding toddler in arms while older kid (maybe 6 or 7 years) steers. The kid is standing on the step-through platform, and can just see over the handlebars. They're not wearing helmets, let alone holding onto anything solid!
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