November 19, 2008
I’m currently holed up in a quiet guesthouse in Chiang Mai, trying to wade through mountains of work while also recovering from the lingering effects – exhaustion, cough, crazy-sore sinuses – of a vicious flu that floored me last week on Ko Phi Phi. (This partly explains the lack of posting lately…no interest in blogging when I’ve the delirious sweats. To be fair, some of the lack of posting can also be attributed to me falling into a black hole of partying when I wasn’t dying of the flu.)
Anyway, I’ve given up on working for today so it’s just me and the telly for the evening. I am learning many things from Thai television, such as:
- When Thais sing Happy Birthday, they do so in English, but for the third line, instead of singing “Happy Birthday, dear Pornchai (or whoever)”, they just sing “Happy Birthday, Happy Birthday”. I wonder why?
- It is acceptable for a pretty Thai newsreader to wear a black suit…and a spangly silver bowtie. Might be a change from the Newbridge silver necklaces, Anne Doyle. [Tangent: You'd have to wonder who the persons or people were who had enough time to work on the Wikipedia entry for Anne Doyle.]
- It takes a lot of people to draw the Thai lottery numbers…at least 10, five men and five pretty ladies in matching turquoise skirt suits.
- Contrary to my initial understanding, Thai movie channels do not promote films hundreds of years ahead of their scheduled showing. Thailand uses a different calendar. So that showing of Hellboy 2 at 8pm on 21/11/2551 is actually this Friday evening.
- Eddie Murphy loses much of his comic appeal when he’s dubbed into Thai. Well, maybe it’s funny if you speak Thai.
- Thai music channels often superimpose the lyrics over music videos, so you can sing along at home karaoke-style. Sometimes they even put a phonetic English version on there too. For the easily amused (me), this is endlessly entertaining. All together now, “WAI-CHAN-MAI-KU-KUAN”.
- Either Thai people really love drinking coffee made with individual sachets of Nescafé powder from red Nescafé mugs or there is some serious product placement going on in music videos. Just watching the third one in which the protagonists have a Nescafé moment. (Ah I love the internet…it is product placement.)
ADDENDUM: Of course, I wouldn’t be watching Thai TV at all had I not lost my beloved iPod – left it on a bus a couple of weeks ago. Happily, have just remembered that I can sort of enjoy me tunes on Last.fm – it’s like having iTunes on shuffle. Obviously it’s not much use most of the time, but in a guesthouse with free wifi, it does the trick. So far it’s dealt up Massive Attack, MGMT, Ryan Adams AND my favourite Architecture in Helsinki song. Heaven. AND I’m saved from phonetic karaoke!
November 16, 2008
November 16th, 2008
Culture shock does funny things to you. I’ve long been an atheist, but my first exposure to the developing world opened a deep well of guilt that would impress the most avowed Opus Dei devotee.
I’m in Hanoi to meet two friends, also backpacking. Having been exposed to the extremes of India, they are unfazed by the grimy pandemonium of the Vietnamese capital, which leaves me slack-jawed and overwhelmed.
Then, for 72 hours, the downpour is unrelenting. We’re stuck in a dimly lit, cheap hotel and cabin fever sets in. We read online that it’s the heaviest rain in the city for decades. Flash floods and lightning have killed 20 people in northern and central Vietnam, including four in Hanoi. This is when the throat-tightening guilt sets in. I’ve been fed up while people were dying nearby.
We want to travel south by train and bus, but the train station is flooded and the roads are impassable. We’re marooned and losing days from our tight schedule. The deluge is set to continue for another week, so we decide to leave.
As the plane to Bangkok takes off, I feel relieved and then guilty again. I’ve often wondered idly what I would do if I were ever caught up in a natural disaster. Those daydreams usually involved me ministering tenderly to unfortunate victims or delivering solemn reports-to-camera while wearing a crumpled, white linen shirt. When I actually came close to what was, at least, a natural calamity, I drank beer and played cards in a hotel room, moaned about the disruption to my travel schedule, became cranky, and fled as soon as possible. It’s distinctly unedifying to realise you’re neither a latter-day Mother Teresa nor the next Orla Guerin.
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November 5, 2008
Was glued to BBC World and the happy (and admittedly hungover) tears kept falling, especially during the acceptance speech. It’s a baking hot afternoon now on this little speck of an island in the Indian Ocean. Afternoon here…and morning in America.
Bobblehead Barack celebrating on Ko Phi Phi
November 2, 2008
November 2nd, 2008
My problem with the global financial crisis is that it’s global. No matter where you run to, it’s there waiting for you. The Straits Times, which I read on the flight to Singapore, is full of stories about crashing Asian markets and pictures of worried-looking traders. Just like Ireland, Singapore has officially tipped into recession, and the government recently guaranteed bank deposits.
As in Dublin, where I had found it was becoming worryingly easy to find a taxi on a Saturday night, the harsh economic climate is forcing Singaporeans to curb their social habits. Business at expensive restaurants is down, while cheap food stalls are busier than ever. A baleful local tells the newspaper: “I have no choice but to tighten my belly.”
The paper also reports on a new Goodness Gracious Me! campaign, which encourages good manners among Singaporeans. After spending 24 hours there, I don’t see the need for it. Everyone is gracious and friendly, from the woman at the immigration desk in the airport (“Please, have some sweets”) to a cab driver who does loud and tuneless versions of karaoke classics (“Hello, is it cab you lookin’ foooh?”) .
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October 31, 2008
Further to the post below, I would just like to add the following to the list (and a hat-tip to Dara and Andy for keeping their eyes peeled on the roads!):
- About 60 live chickens
- 1 dead cow
- 1 dead pig (on driver’s lap)
- 1 patio door
We were supposed to be heading south today, but we’re stranded in Hanoi. There’s a tropical storm off-shore and astonishingly torrential rain here. Last night, it sounded like the entire cast of Riverdance were hoofing on the corrugated tin roof a couple of feet from my hotel room window. That sort of stopped being entertaining after a while.
Also could not get my air conditioning to work, so it was an overheated, noisy night for me. Insert your own double entendre.
UPDATE: At least we are safe…AFP: Vietnam floods kill 12, capital Hanoi under water (pic of flooding)
October 27, 2008
Have you ever wondered what you could transport on a moped or small motorbike? Having spent about an hour perched on the balcony of Legend Beer cafe at the northern end of Hoan Kiem Lake. observing the chaotic, hypnotic ballet that is traffic in Hanoi, I can attest that the following combinations of drivers, passengers and cargo are possible:
- One driver – they all wear helmets and, just as the guidebook says, it’s the craze to have a helmet in the shape of a baseball cap, a pith helmet or a bonnet
- One driver (on mobile) with toddler clinging to his lap
- One non-plussed blond Westerner, listening to iPod and wearing what looked like a very expensive suit
- Two adults
- Two adults and one child
- Two adults, one carrying a large electric fan on a waist-high stand
- Two men in orange jumpsuits, one with a 12-foot ladder balanced on his shoulder
- Three adults
- Four adults
- One-three large boxes (at least 2ft x 2ft x 2ft)
- One-four large indeterminate packages wrapped in jute sacks and held on with twine
- Any combination of boxes and jute-wrapped packages
- A roll of carpet
- About a gross of brightly-coloured plastic glasses, somehow bound together with plastic wrap
- Two pallets of Coca-Cola and a large box of sweets
- A large broom
- A 5l jerry can of cooking oil
- A huge sheaf of branches and a woven basket full of shopping
- Seven empty watercooler bottles
- Eight full watercooler bottles
- A table
- A crate of beer
- A heap of random fan components
- A big pile of bedding
- Thirteen boxes of Nestle yogurt
- Three gas cylinders
- Six tyres
- Two armfuls of 10ft-long white plastic tubing
October 23, 2008
ZERO
ONE
- Travelling companions (Aileen, buddy from Cork, whose good humour and patience when it comes to my long-winded stories and constant low-level moaning has been nothing short of astonishing. On Sunday, she flies to Brisbane and I fly to Hanoi.)
- Trains broken down (Singapore to KL sleeper)
- Trishaw rides taken
- Mosques visited
- Christian churches visited
- Rats seen in restaurants where we had just eaten
- Mice seen in bars where we were drinking
- Small furry, tailed things that scurried over my feet while I was drinking outside a bar
- Trips to Planet Hollywood for burger and chips (we blame the jetlag)
- New Zealand women in clothes shops who referred to the assistants as “coolies”
TWO
- Countries visited
- Items lost to laundries (1 pair beloved and super-comfy Columbia trousers and 1 pair knickers, precise appearance not remembered, but six went in and only five came back)
- Rip-offs by taxi drivers (although as cumulative cost of rip-offs about €3, not losing sleep over it)
- Handbags purchased (The spirit is willing, the flesh is weak)
TWO (PLUS THREE)
- Husbands (plus children) whose existence was invented by us in order to stave off lecherous guide in Chinese temple
THREE
FIVE
- Temples visited (three Hindu, two Chinese)
- Bottles of Tiger beer in Happy Hour bucket at the Geographer Cafe on Jonker Walk in Melaka
SIX
EIGHT
- Rambutans grown by Madam Ong of the Classic Inn in KL in her own garden and given to us as a little treat
TEN
- Minutes spent with feet submerged in tank of Garra Rufa fish, which nibble off dead skin
- Minutes spent giggling hysterically and squealing as Garra Rufa fish did their thing
FORTY-FOUR
- Women pictured in social pages at back of Malaysian edition of Marie Claire (all of which were Asian)
ONE HUNDRED AND FIFTY SIX
- Women pictured in ads and editorial of Malaysian edition of Marie Claire (39 of which were Asian)
ONE HUNDRED AND SIXTY TWO
- Pages torn out of guidebook and ditched (every ounce counts)
TWO HUNDRED AND SEVENTY TWO
- Steps up to Batu Caves outside KL, where Sri Subramaniar Swamy Devasthanam temple is located
SIX HUNDRED
- Seconds for which calves trembled uncontrollably after climbing steps to Batu Caves in torrid midday heat
ONE THOUSAND PLUS
- Shops in the Berjaya Times Square mall, KL’s largest (we stayed around the corner)
COUNTLESS
- Incredibly friendly locals met
INCALCULABLE
INESTIMABLE
- Time spent enjoying ourselves, despite me whinging about the heat, the humidity, the insect bites, the rodents, the lost trousers and more. We’re having a great time…really!
October 19, 2008
October 19th, 2008
There are a number of ways to cope with a recession. You could slash your outgoings, get a second job, keep the head down and hope things pick up, or get the hell out of here as quickly as possible. Guess which one I’m doing?
I could pretend I decided to leave Ireland because I knew the economy, the country and the entire global financial system, were going to hell in a handcart. In truth, the recession wasn’t why I booked my one-way ticket.
By now I should be a younger version of Nigella Lawson, with a beautiful home, adorable family, thriving career and a knack for whisking up delicious cakes in five minutes. However, I’m 31, single, freelancing and mortgage-less. Mind you, things didn’t go entirely awry: I can bake, sort of.
When life doesn’t turn out as expected, you have to reconsider. I figured I could be responsible, knuckle down and save for a shoebox apartment of my own, or I could get the hell out of Dodge. It didn’t take long to decide.
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October 5, 2008
October 5th, 2008
It’s all our own fault. Hundreds, possibly thousands, of motorists are being wrongly charged every day by the new M50 barrier-free tolling system, but the National Roads Authority (NRA) is not to blame. We are.
That’s according to Noel Dempsey, the transport minister. He told the Dail last Wednesday that it would be “grossly unfair to blame the operator for people’s inability to follow the instructions supplied with all tags”.
Noting that one of the companies supplying toll tags is called The Intolligent — it administers Directroute.ie — I have devised an intolligence quotient (IQ) test. Complete the test and find out if you are one of Dempsey’s dopey drivers or if you are just bamboozled by a poorly planned, badly administered tolling system with a ridiculously convoluted array of payment options.
Question 1: Drivers should slow down while driving past the electronic toll tag reader, as many are doing. True or false?
False. That’s the whole point of electronic tolling — drivers don’t have to slow down, so traffic moves more easily, meaning congestion is reduced. Oh dear, maybe Dempsey is right and Irish motorists are a pack of bozos.
Question 2: Tags should be waved out the car window at the electronic tag reader, as some drivers are doing. True or false?
False. Leave your tag mounted on the windscreen at all times. That’s not to say that you can’t wave at the reader as you pass. It’s a lonely old life being a reviled electronic toll tag reader.
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