In Thailand, it’s called Songkran.

It’s progressed through the years however, and while it still bears it’s holy significance, it’s now a huge party that takes place everywhere, for 3 days. It’s not even the 13th yet, and already I am utterly soaked. Street vendors and shops sell water guns and plastic pouches for phones and wallets, and the Khao San road - Which is usually packed - is devoid of stalls. There’s now a bloody massive area cordoned off for water fights.

Awesome. I need to buy a gun and soak some old people.

The sun is shining most-awesomely today, the Bangkok smog has relented making it a bit cooler and brighter, and consequently, people seem a bit happier. Maybe that’s just because it’s Saturday though…

Anyway, I’m currently being stalked by two people from our guest house in Bangkok. The first and most intrusive, is a retired schoolteacher from Canada, who lives in Japan. She kind of resembles a dumpy, blond, wicked witch of the west, with a nose to match. She’s currently working on a teaching-material delivery solution that she can sell to schools, and is therefore on her computer most of the time. She originally asked me if I knew how to get online–as she was having trouble, and I wasn’t–and then concluded that when I fixed it for her, that I could troubleshoot any issues she has in the future with her MacBook Air. So far, she’s followed me to the health spa, the restaurant down the road, and almost out to dinner last night (Susie an I ran away like school kids when we saw her creeping down the stairs of our guest house). She also moved rooms to be OPPOSITE ours. None the less, conversation is always of a technical nature, and usually boring, because - as is the way with most people who use technology but don’t understand it - she tends to dispute what I say to her, like she knows better. Usually I just politely nod and agree, and then wonder why the hell she’s asking me in the first place.

Next, is the mid 30’s, balding, Scottish “Happy Mondays” old-school raver who insists of talking to me about the copious amounts of drugs he’s doing, in an obvious attempt to appeal to my “youth”. Again, I politely nod and agree when he tells me that “the Khao San Road isn’t what it used to be” and “it used to be so much easier to get drugs into Thailand”. Im guessing it was easier because the Thai officials at Suvarnabhumi Airport didn’t conduct cavity searches during his early smuggling days, which was another interesting conversation that I’m not divulging at this point. He also proceeded to tell me about his dead father (he’s obviously still mourning, so I let him talk) and the house that he left him In Hatton (which he sold to buy drugs and a camper van, in which he now lives, on the rare occasion in which he’s back home). I know I’m trying to be polite, so I listen and nod when I’m supposed to, feel sympathy when told about the loss of parents and / or foot bunions when you wear western shoes for 60 years, and pretend to be interested when told about upcoming technological advances in academia.

What makes people think they can open up to me and expunge their woes unto me? Maybe I’m just pretty, answers on a postcard please. Susie, meanwhile, is doing the sensible - if less social - act of making herself scarce while the torrents of unwelcome history are being divulged. What is she doing I hear you ask? Probably more interesting things like reading, or going to the Dusit Zoo without me. Sigh. Even as I write this, I seem to be attracting attention from an overweight native, drinking Leo Beer at 9am, who can’t talk a word of English, and who is ominously staring at me and my iPhone. I think he is mental; he keeps talking to no-one and making funny “tourettes-like” sounds and twitches frequently.

The laws of attraction state that “Like Attracts Like”. I hope this doesn’t mean that I’m seen as a mental, overweight drug addict, with foot problems, and a tendency to twitch at random.

AMAZING.

Anyway, the train journey last night was hell, it was an hour an a half late, and consequently, we arrived late. It was also insanely cold thanks to the air con, and so I hardly slept. Looking forward to a decent night here though now, back in “Bangkok Kitsch” :) Haiku’s coming soon.

Ps. In KPN I picked up a 4 foot tripod for my camera that compacts to under a foot; for a tenner! Eat that, gorillapod! :)

So, long story short; train arrives in Aran at 11am, we get an easy Tuk Tuk to the border just past Rongklua Market, and we get deposited in a large car park, off a not-particularly-official-looking white building. Like cattle, we got hurried into the building and sat down by some “friendly” Thais (who kept fucking shouting “LOVELY JUBBLY” at us… Sigh) and presented with Cambodian entry forms. Which we filled out. In my defence, I didn’t feel particularly comfortable here - the visa signs on the Walls were more or less drawn on - but I assumed that it was mainly nerves on my behalf. The Thais then asked for our passports and 1000 baht (£20), and told us they were getting our Visas for Cambodia. Luckily, Susie also felt uncomfortable, but she had the guts to question what was going on - she’d read the you don’t get issued visas until you exit Thailand - at which, the Thai “Officials” got angry and threw the papers back at us. So, we left, feeling slightly relieved I might add, and walked down the road toward the border. We easily spotted the Thai immigration office, went in and got stamped out of Thailand.

Easy. 5 minutes.

We’d heard that it was best to get across to Cambodia immigration and get in line before 12 to beat the buses coming from the Khao San Road in Bangkok, as they’re usually packed, so we hurried to immigration and got in line again. Amazing, 3 people in front of us. Easy! It was only then that we learned that we didn’t buy visas here; we just get stamped in once we had them. So, we left in a bit of a panic, and walked back on ourselves, asking people for directions to the Visa office (many people offering to do them for us on the way I might add). Visa purchase went by easily, but the Khmer officials did try to charge us an “admin fee” of 100 baht (£2) each, to which we refused, but got our Visas anyway. So, back in line for stamps, we’d realised that while we were walking back and buying the Visas, the KSR buses had arrived. The line took 3 hours. Ouch.

The funniest thing about this whole crossing was the difference between both border towns; the second we got through in Cambodia, no longer were we presented by farms, rice paddies and trees, but barren sandy fields, dust and litter. Oh, and A MILLION SWARMING TOUTS TRYING TO SELL US EVERYTHING.

In short, here’s a brief guide on how to survive Aranyaprathet - Poipet border crossing.

1. Prebook a guest house in Siem Reap and ask them to get a taxi to pick you up. $40.

2. Arrive in Aran by train. It’s 48 baht (£1) from Huampulong train station in Bangkok.

3. At Aran, get a Tuk Tuk to the border for 60 baht. Negotiate if they try to put the price up, this is a standard price.

4. At the border - if you haven’t purchased E-visas - IGNORE EVERYONE and walk straight toward the border. DO-NOT go into ANY buildings unless they say IMMIGRATION. You can’t miss the the office, it’s on the left. Follow everyone else :)

5. Stamp out of Thailand

6. Walk about 2 minutes, under the large arch that looks like Angkor Wat. Immediately on the right, enter the official looking building filled with Cambodian officials in uniform, and buy your visa for $20. No more.

7. Walk out, continue down to Arrivals on the right.

8. Beat the KSR buses and queue for 5 minutes. Stamp in.

9. Put your head down, ignore EVERYONE (even police, as they’re just as eager to grab your cash as the touts) and find your prebooked taxi.

10. Win, and look back, laugh at everyone else who gets cattle shuttled into “free transport” buses.

We’re currently travelling east towards the Thai / Cambodia border. The train takes about 5 hours and only has 3rd class - which is cool, because it’s 48 baht (about a pound) for the whole journey. I’ve managed to tip my cap and sleep twice, although I now have a crick in my neck (need another massage :D). The countryside is beautiful mind, and we caught the sunrise as we left Bangkok at around 6am. Other than the Mosquitos, I don’t quite mind the journey. Let’s just hope that the border crossing goes smooth today… There are horror stories about Aran/Poipet, the touts and the scams… Eeeek!

It’s a very odd thing, and I’ve spoken to a few people about their fears of heights and how / why it usually manifests. One guy I was speaking to said that he has this overwhelming urge to jump over the side of whatever or wherever he’s at. I can kind of understand this destructive urge, I remember having something similar when I was growing up - albeit not so life threatening - where I took a penknife to my brand new bike. Can’t tell you why I did, but it happened. And it seems to have carried on manifesting itself through various points.

My “vertigo”, as previously mentioned, seems to come from this urge to throw things over the edge, in a kind of curiosity to see what happens. The urge usually results in me consciously holding on tighter to whatever I’m holding, usually also making me panic. It happens also when I see someone doing something similar, like taking pictures over the edge of a boat from the top deck, or being on the phone at the top of the Segrada Familia in Barcelona.

I was on a train, and looking out from the window, I had the same kind of “chill” that I get when I’m high up. I was daydreaming about hanging my iPhone from the headphones out of the window, to see how long it would take to detach and fall to the ground.

It made me realise I don’t have vertigo; I think I’m just excessively materialistic and I’m scared of losing stuff… Which is a depressing thought when you’re travelling through poverty and places where consumerism doesn’t exist to the extent that we’re used to in the western world. It makes me feel guilty for wanting a new MacBook, car or gadget for my camera wen I don’t need one and could spend the money on more essential things.

“Freedom’s just another word for nothing left to lose” - Janice Joplin.

Must explain why people living in the highlands of Sri Lanka don’t think twice before standing at a precipice at the Ella Gap (which again, when seen, caused a classic case of “vertigo”), or when ferry workers in the Gulf of Thailand hang from the railings, they have nothing to throw over, nothing to worry about losing. Nothing to hang from train windows or to criss-cross with a penknife.

Note: For anyone reading this that doesn’t see it, it’s a metaphor for my guilt, and the shackles that materialism binds us with. I’m not literally attributing happiness and freedom to the ability to casually destroy an iPhone :)

We’re about £100 over-budget over the last month (can’t believe it’s been a month already!) but we hope to remedy that over the next 6 weeks; Vietnam, Cambodia and Laos are all supposed to be cheaper, in that order. Thailand isn’t as cheap as we’ve been lead to believe :(

Anyway; given my bike back this morning, no issues! But I would recommend that if you’re here and you rent a bike, washing it first before you hand it back. The lady at the rental office seemed to appreciate it and didn’t even really bother to check the bike over! I’m going for another massage today before we leave for Bangkok, because my back feels like it’s ruined ever since yoga 2 days ago. Let’s hope I’m fixed, because we have A LOT of walking over the next week.

Here’s a picture to keep you entertained, until next time. X

This is essentially why I haven’t really been blogging much since I arrived, I’ve been busy relaxing on beaches, driving my scooter around the island and drinking cocktails, watching the sun set. If you’re reading this and you’re jealous, then I don’t apologise; just come here for yourself and you’ll understand what I mean. I’m currently working on a google map of all the places we’ve visited, and I’ve just uploaded a bunch of pictures from the resort we’re in. Also, this morning, we did yoga; AMAZING. I needed a massage afterwards, to I went to a resort next door to the one we’re currently in. I paid 250 baht for it (about a fiver) and it lasted about an hour. Funny thing though, before the masseuse started, the conversation went something like this:

Masseuse: “You want soft or hard?” (broken english)\ Me: “Hard please, korp khun karp” (thank you)\ Masseuse: “I make it very hard for you”\ Me: “That’s what she said”

Needless to say, my comedy fell on deaf ears. I laughed loads though.