more bangkok fun.

#1. i wish i could insert the video but this kid i shall call mr. xylophone wiz. i contributed to his college fund.

#2. before... (ed. note: sorry for fuzziness. my glasses suck.)

#3. after...

#4. putting on the moves...

#5. a nice day for a walk for what seemed to be 1 million people.

my bad. walk this day was actually a pro-democracy rally.

ed. notes.

1. some people really hate bangkok. i love it. people are really friendly (unlike cairo, where everyone's kind of stoic). there's stuff to do. there's alot of stuff to eat. it's alive. it's vibrant. not dead, i'm sorry to say, like cowtown.

2. photos #1 to 4. went down to the weekend market today. glad i did. i was supposed to go shopping but i lost track of time. it was a circus down there (a good circus vs. khao san rd.). plenty of people watching.

3. photos #5 to 6. funny thing happened on the way to the weekend market. encountered a parade of 1 million people dressed in yellow shirts walking down the street. i thought, 'what a great way to honour the king' (yellow is the royal colour). just happened that it was a march protesting against the military junta running thailand. holy crap. i broke security rule #6: "stay out of political rallies to preserve life". how was i suppose to know? my bad.

4. went down to patpong a few nights ago with my brazilian girlfriend. patpong is bangkok's infamous redlight district. hasn't changed a bit. clean but still sleazy... we took up all offers of free "looky, lookies". in one joint a banana landed within a metre of our feet. should of saw expression on the face of my brazilian friend. i laughed my head off. avoided thee bevy of "ping pong" shows.

same, same...but different...really...i mean that...

the croaking frogs are killing me...

a 7-11 with no slurpees? can that be possible. that's like starbucks without carmel macchiatos...

girl or boy? do i have to ask?

dedicated to my friend sal. he loves satays...

top 10 things overheard on khao san road...

10. how many of them mango/sticky rice thingies have you had tonite?
9. the tom yam fried my brain last nite...
8. is that kenny rogers with that hot, young Thai girl?
7. erik estrada has left the building!!
6. i can't believe i got ripped off on khao san rd.
5. are you sure you're a guy...?
4. wow, i'm the biggest jackass on khao san road...
3. these croaking frogs are killin' me...
2. if the rest of thailand is like this, i'm going to have a swell time here.
1. where are all the thai people... ?

ed. notes.
1. for my loyal readers in calgary, khao san rd. to bangkok is 17th ave to calgary except in this case khao san rd. is 17th on 'roids, crack, and amphetamines. to my other loyal readers, khao san is the centre of the backpacker universe, a never never land for travelers (well for some of them).

2. i haven't been here on khao san in 7 years. nothing has changed except for the frog ladies and the presence of bar girls on the pavement.

3. i'm off to the thailand vs. australia asia cup game tomorrow. wahoo. i'm going with a brazilian girl and a guy from the land o' oz. hope to see some football hooligans, eh.

4. i wanna go home.

pad thai here i come!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

July 9, 2007
Departure:
23:15
Cairo, Egypt - Cairo International, terminal 1
Arrival:
11:55 +1 day(s)
Bangkok, Thailand - Suvarnabhumi Intl Airport
Airline:
Egyptair MS960 e
Aircraft:
Boeing 777-200/300

ed. note.

1. happy bday mr. K.

back in paradise...

i'm staying at the venerable dahab hostel in downtown cairo. it's located on the rooftop of a seven story building. nice view, eh? your challenge is to tell me how many satellite dishes are in the above image. who says this blog is boring?

thanx for all the emails from loyal readers about my whereabouts.

after dahab, i came back to cairo. i've been on the internet for hours upon hours researching the next destination.

edit. notes.

1) to the bastard thief in dahab who stole my glasses: i replaced my eyeglasses yesterday. i can see clearly once again. next time trip an old lady while she is crossing a street and leave visually impaired people alone.

Happy Canada Day!!!!! Or, cya later Dahab...

dahab can be a very very very lonely place (that's saudi arabia way in the back).

Oh happy days are here again!!!

you can't see this, but i'm dancin' a lil' jig, eh...

first, happy canada day!!!! to my loyal overseas friends, it's our national bday!!! to my fellow canadians, drink up and celebrate till the wee hours (even though that means till 9 pm for most of ya).

second, I'M LEAVING DAHAB!!!!! WAHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!! i think that deserves repeat of the chorus:

Oh happy days are here again!!!

man, i think i just winded myself.

seriously, i've never been in a place as long as i've been in dahab. it's been definitely a love/hate relationship.

i'm going to miss the sea. i just finish 2 SCUBA dives. i thought i could pick up where i left off 7 years ago in thailand. unfortunately diving is nothing like riding a bike. you need practice to keep up the necessary skills. thus, i was pretty much floundering around in the deep blue sea. it was too bad. however, i did see some pretty cool stuff. the fish and coral are genuinely amazing. however, when it comes to SCUBA skills, i'll pick them up with a refresher elsewhere. perhaps, back in thailand?

i wish i traveled to dahab back in '95. back then (not long ago) i think it was a backwater. a true backpacker chillout spot where chill really meant chill. no hassle (even i have a hard time believing this one). but, i'll never know.

here's to the people of dahab...

to the touts and taxi drivers, everyone's got to make a living. let's just leave it at that.

as for the other people, it's about an ecclectic bunch as it gets. first, ricky, the greasy, flunk out from manchester. you're just 17 yrs. old and you're a wasta already... too bad. then there are friends from the dahab hostel in cairo who seem to have suffered the same fate as i. if he every reads this, Mo', my advice is to get the hell out of here. not tomorrow. i mean immediately. forget about western union. btw, you owe me 270 LE. jason, you got out in the prime of your trip. good on ya!! richard and sally... dunno how u did it but 2 months in dahab... how the hell did u do it? finally, to the blonde woman pushing the baby carriage back and forth, day after day, you are really really really hot.

to all my rushion friends, dost va donya!!! i luv u all!

finally, bob marley is the greatest human being to set foot on this planet.

Dahab...

thanks for the emails from my loyal readers with regards to my health and lack of postings.

i'm alive and well in dahab. i've been here for a long while now.

it's beautiful here. the scenary's pretty stark. the nearby desert mountains are jagged. they're butt up against the brilliant turquoise waters of the red sea. to the east are the seaside cliffs of saudi arabia.


dahab for the most part is a street and a half town. very touristy. the "strip", as i call it, rims the shoreline. there is a wall of chillout restaurants (and their annoying touts) on the seaward side of the walkway, while hotels, gawdy souvenir shops, internet cafes and ubiqutous scuba shops line the otherside. add to this, a caravan of gypsy-like beduoin girls, selling homemade bracelets.


not many tourists are here. the tourist trade is pretty much dead. those that are here are an ecclectic bunch. a plethora of vacationing russians, japanese/korean hippies, and a surprising number of canadians.


there's not much to do here unless you like to SCUBA dive or snorkel. otherwise, you work on your suntannin' and chillin' skills.

you'd think chillin' would be easy in a place like dahab but not really. the touts are relentless. actually, if you've been around awhile, the touts' remarks get quite personal. for example, on the way to dinner tonite, there is a bridge i cross. there's a troll, sorry that's tout, flogging a trip to a local attraction. i'm not interested and say "no thanx, i love dahab". the troll answers, "dahab doesn't love you." what's with that?

here, and in most of egypt, the traveler is nothing unless they fork out the cash. it's ironic that the very people who benefit from tourist spending actually talk trash to them as well. very strange sales techniqes...

i spend most of my time now avoiding "the strip". there isn't a local public beach in town. so, i've got to walk a half hour either north or south of town to get some peace and quiet.

i've got a few more days here. i've got to spend some of my hard earned cash to go scuba diving.

after that, i'm getting the hell out of here.

ed. notes:

1. not all egyptians are nasty sob's.

2. i still do not know where i'm going. i'll return to cairo and make some kind of decision quickly.

3. i went snorkeling yesterday. the biodiversity of the surrounding reefs is incredible. the show just starts about 25 metres off shore. it's shallow at first then all of a sudden the ocean floor just drops off. breathtakingly deep blue sea. beautiful corals. billions of colourful fishes. i haven't seen a Nemo fish yet...

sometimes when we're out of touch...

alexandria's corniche on the Mediterranean sea. i guess this kind of marks the end of the trip...

wacky egyptians hamming it up at the market.

well, i'm back in cairo. there's a price to pay though. bright (well, as bright as it gets here with the smog), sunny and 40 C. since the last posting , i've been to alexandria and the extremely isolated oasis of siwa in the great sand sea close to the libyan border.

alexandria's sort of like a mini cairo; however, the people are much more relaxed. founded by the one, the only alexander the great, it was famous for the great liberry back in the day. until it was torched and razed to the ground. i went to see the new replacement liberry. i must say it didn't have much of a collection yet. it could fit 8 million books but currently held only a half million. lot's of empty, dusty shelves. alexandria was also famous for having one of the 7 wonders of the ancient world. well, it was dismantled and the pieces were used to construct a fort.

perhaps what alexandria is most noted for (well, in my books) are it's people. really friendly folks. i think the lack of tourists or reduced numbers has to do with some of the friendliness.

next, i headed deep into the western desert to the oasis of siwa. i've never been to an oasis before. the landscape prior to arriving was horrifically bleak. i mean nothing. flat for as far as the eye could see. nary a soul. hot as hell. then the bus i was on dipped into a shallow depression, and voila, we were in a patch of a date palms, surrounded by pools of cool clear water! soon thereafter, we were inundated by donkey carts, the preferred mode of siwan transport, at the bus station. funny how things work out in the end.

not much to see in siwa. the chic thing to do is rent a bike and visit some of the exquisite springs in the outskirts of town. you can escape the oppressive heat of the day by taking a refreshing


this is my new bud, robbie, from amerika taking the plunge into "cleopatra" spring.

dip in the coolish waters. very nice. alternatively, you can do nothin' and sit on your butt all day reading a book or watching siwan life go by. ain't that fun, eh? plus, it's quiet as hell. Siwa's an anomaly in egypt that's for sure.


nice sunset, eh? if you have yo tv screens adjusted correctly, you can see a small sample of Siwa's 70 thousand date trees in the foreground.

siwa's pretty conservative in terms of adherence to tradition and islam. the women are covered from head to toe in public - even in the oppressive heat. as my friend, sal, would say, the full ninja suit. the whole nine yards. they can walk around, but they can't drive the donkey carts.

however, traditions are a changing, just as the shifting sands of the surrounding desert. i had this conversation with the hotel manager, mano:

bubba: so, mano are you married? (one of my favourite questions).
mano: no.
bubba: (feigning shock and dismay) why not!
mano: i'm just 24.
bubba: that's really old. (well, relatively old)...
mano: i need money to get married...
bubba: ha! how are you going to meet your wife?
mano: my folks are going to set me up.
bubba: then?
mano: then we are going to meet...
bubba: ...and go on a date?
mano: ha! no.
bubba: play cards?
mano: no. maybe watch tv (with her parents present of course). if the parties are interested, her family will talk it over (family meaning parents, uncles, aunts, cousins, etc.). if they like me, we'll get engaged.
bubba: when would that happen?
mano: could be next day or maybe ten years... hopefully, not ten years.
bubba: why not 10 years?
mano: very expensive.
bubba: how do you know if she's the right one?
mano: if her family is good then everything is good...
bubba: what about the woman?
mano: she doesn't matter. just as long as the family is good.
bubba: when are finally going to get married?
mano: before i'm, say, 30.
bubba: that's quite advanced in age. hmmm...what about your friends?
mano: well, 99 percent of them are married. i don't get to see them much.
bubba: they just disappeared?
mano: yep. i like my freedom.

ed notes:

1) i've been sick for the past few days. that certainly put a wrench into my plans of chillin' in dahab (capital of western decadence by the red sea - i'm sure it drives the islamists crazy). it's been pretty rough. high grade fever, head eck, muscle and joint eck, and to top it off, you guessed it, explosive diarrhea. dunno what it is. any doctors out there? anywho, i'm resting for next couple of days.

2) while i was bedridden, the ducks won the cup. that kind of sucked...

pyramid power...

back row: the red pyramid in darshur (south of cairo). front row (l to r): cop, akira kurosawa, cop and camel.

pyramid haiku.

pyramids are sharp.
dead pharaohs live forever.
just a stack of rocks.

ed. note.

1. hope i can leave for alexandria soon.

allah wa akbar and the train to hell...

the train from/to hell...

train from/to hell, part 2...

the nubian desert...

second class passengers...

pray time on board the ship from/to hell...

Hello my friends,

The traveling has been hot and heavy for the past while. A little too quick for my taste. (even though I'm theoretically control the pace). So, I find myself in Cairo now relaxing after the rigours of traveling the Sudanese outback.

The train from Khartoum to Wadi Halfa really was a physical and logistical nightmare. The debacle started right away. After the stampede (I don’t know why people rush because each passenger has a ticket), I was unceremoniously yanked from my 3rd class seat. Apparently they sold it previously to another passenger. A blessing in disguise, I thought, when they plunked me in padded seat in a 2nd class compartment as a replacement.

From there, the train slowly chugged out of Khartoum. As it turned out, ”slowly chugging” was its only speed. It didn’t matter though. We were soon out of Khartoum and into the bleak landscape of the nubian desert to one side and the occasional rendezvous with the Nile river to the other side of the train.

I shared the compartment with a really nice family: Mahmoud, his wife and 5 kids. The smallest kid was pretty nasty. He’d wail away every time he wanted sometime. Very annoying. I wanted to club him one right over the head. But, for the most part, his parents did the corporal punishment for me. From my observation face and wrist slapping of children was a quite common occurrence. Anyways, Mahmoud was a junior high teacher in Khartoum. He was taking his family to Cairo for a holiday. For hours they plied me with drinks. In return I entertained them with my 10 word Arabic vocabulary. All the while we watched the desert dust pilfer into the compartment.

The fun did not last however. When we arrived in Atbara, the train stopped and I decided to get out for a breath of fresh air and escape the stifling heat in the train. In the meantime, unbeknownst to me, the compartment was being usurped by a contingent of women. I barely got back when I saw my backpack being tossed into the hallway by an unscrupulous male relative of one of the ladies.

There I was, at the cusp of nightfall, an honourary sindeega for god’s sake being forced to sit on someone’s water cooler with no where to go.

To complicate matters at the Atbara a swack of new passengers (paying and non-paying) including an American guy named Matt (non-paying) climbed on board. The train packed to the rafters now.

I thought I had a brilliant idea when I thought of staying in the dining car. It turned out to be a good idea. I mean there were empty seats and lots of room to bed down for the night. The only problem was the dust pilfering through the windows. Waiters would come by every 15 minutes to wipe off the micro-sand dunes that would form on the tables. The idyllic situation would of course come to a crashing halt. Along came Mustafa, the Nazi dining car owner. Mustafa was the big man on campus who apparently paid a million Sudanese dinars for the exclusive rights of dishing out the slop, he called food, to unsuspecting passengers. Unfortunately, he thought he owned the entire car. He sussed out our plan (Matt American, also homeless, joined me for “dinner”). Let’s just say I was nursing my bottle of coke for a long long time. He became enraged. The fury was palpable. He kicked us out. I was homeless again.

I tried to return to my water cooler seat only to find it hijacked by an old lady. No matter. The way was blocked by 2 rather obese women who had packed it in for the night and were blissfully asleep on the narrow hall way floor.

Long story short, it was a helluva sleepless night. Taking turns with a nice koran-toting man, I spent the night either standing in the aisle or sitting on a wooden crate.

Next day, the obese women somehow got off the floor after their comfortable slumber, thus making room for the homeless. I was lucky enough to be able to share a seat on a cardboard box the rest of the way to Wadi halfa.

After a restful night in Wadi Halfa, sleeping under the stars, we climbed aboard the venerable SS Sagalnaam. From Wadi Halfa, it was a 16 hr. overnight “cruise” along the entire length of Lake Nasser, the largest man made lake in the world, to the Aswan high dam. I had the luxury of a second class ticket. No, there isn’t a third class. This meant sitting on a barely padded bench in the mid deck. What it really meant was another sleepless night. Only this time there was A/C in the cattle section I shared with 200 other folks.

Looking back now, those were the best of times (on the entire African trip). The living conditions were horrendous. But I shared them with so many nice people, despite various Nazi-like figures. There was Mahmoud and his family. They were also kicked out of dining car. That was the last I saw of them (just kidding). Really, they traveled first class on the boat. Good on them. There was Ahamed, who I met while buying my train ticket in Khartoum. Lucky bastard. He got to keep his third class seat on the train. Better third class than no class I always say. He learned a lot of his English while working for chevron in the oil fields. Retired now, he was moving back to his beloved village of Abri in the north of Sudan, because he thought khartoum was “fucked up”. By the way, he also worked for Talisman Energy of Calgary, Alberta before the “fucking” americans forced it out of Sudan. He was “fucking” hilarious. Then thanks to Ahmed and his family for buying me drinks on the boat. They also gave me a whole chicken to eat. They, too, laughed at my arabic. Plus, there was a boat load of other great people I shared these unbearable 4 days with.

Crossroads…

I’ve been thinking seriously of finishing this particular journey. Like my friend wasta said, it’s been only 7 months. But it’s been 7 months through Africa. I’m a wee bit tired. I’ve been thinking of going home. Getting a mundane job. Finding a proper woman. Settling down and producing some offspring. Any objections out there? Words of wisdom?

I went to the American University in Cairo to leaf through some of their lonely planet guidebooks hoping to spark my imagination. Nothing. The logical place to go next is perhaps Yemen or to Asia. To Iran. Perhaps re-visit Pakistan (the AUC was missing the LP Pakistan). Or, visit the “stans”, even though I feel totally unprepared (language-wise) to go there. To tell you the truth, language has not stopped me in the past from going somewhere.

But then, I met this Korean girl from Seoul last night. She bought a ticket to Bangkok (from Cairo) the other day for $340 USD (tax incl.). Damn that’s a good price.

Perhaps, if I spent sometime resting by the Red Sea, I might have a change of heart.

haven't seen a pharmaceutical factory, yet...

salaam aliekum my friends,

I've been in Khartoum for the a few days now. it's been just roasting hot outside with temperatures between 40 to 46 C. that's really hot. i've never experienced such intense solar radiation. there's not much that the uninitiated can do during the day except to keep outside or inside activities to a bare minimum. for me, that's walking slowly to and from the local shop for multiple bottles of life giving water. cool clear water. i'm not kidding. once you're in the throes of dehydration you are toast. i certainly picked the wrong time of year to visit sudan.

i do go out at night. the area i'm staying in is called souq al-arabi (the arab market). each and every night the streets are lined with vendors plying their wares (undergarments to bottled parfume). it's pretty chaotic. alot of shouting and thousands of shoppers. i've noticed a couple of things. khartoum, well this part at least, is a dump and most sudanese are pretty tall. i'm surprised more have not followed in the footsteps of manute bol (nba player extraordinaire).

so far the people have been pretty friendly. when i'm walking about people shout out SINDEEGA (sp)!!. that's a term of endearment assigned to each and every chinese national working in sudan. supposedly, there's 5 million brothers and sisters who drew the short straws and call sudan home. surprisingly, there isn't a chinatown in khartoum, and the laundry biz is not dominated by the chinese (yet). i've only seen a few chinese in town. apparently, a bulk of them are working the oil fields down in the South.

i've unabashedly used my unofficial sindeega status a few times already. to hell with being a canadian in these parts, eh. the police don't hassle me and soldiers shake my hand. i was trying to buy some laundry soap last night (ok, it's my heritage). a guy was trying to help me out because of my poor command of the arabic language (i used the right word, that being "become" when asking for the cost of something). sometimes people are so shocked that i can utter a few words of their language that they are in a state of de-nile (get that joke, ha!). my helper asked me whether i understood english or not. that's hilarious because i had been speaking english with him for at least a minute. he asked where i was from. china (of course). well, the chinese are very supportive of sudan. they (the chinese) are great people. uh huh... blah, blah, blah... look buddy, once the motherland wants payback it's lights out for sudan if you can't fork over the oil.

the "d" word...

it's amazing the conversations i have on buses. i figure talking with the normal folks is like taking the pulse of the nation. you know, getting to down to the nitty gritty. well, i made my first sudanese friend, asser, on the air conditioned bus from gederaf (see map) to khartoum (see map). asser's a really nice guy. when the steward put on the feature movie (a really bad d-grade hollywood flick about some american dude blowing up stuff), asser turned his head.

are you ok, i asked.

"i don't watch american movies"

"why not?"

"american movies always makes us look very bad"

"you know it's a story and not real?"

no answer.

the conversation some how turns to the subject of the D word (i'll just say it's in the west of sudan). according to asser, the "problem " in the D region is exaggerated by the western media. sudanese people are beautiful. i agreed (well, most of them are). if he sees any foreign troops in sudan, he wouldn't hesitate running up to them and slitting their throats with a dagger (the latter comment was done with great animation). there is a silver lining though. tourists are ok (thank Allah). that includes american tourists. i digress. the only way foreign forces can "take" sudan is if they killed all the sudanese people because each and everyone will fight till their last breaths.

he was really working himself into a lather by now. i was flabbergasted. yet, i couldn't resist asking him what he thought about george bush. surprisingly, he calmly replied that if he ever stepped on sudanese soil he'd call him a tosser and give him the one fingered salute (i.e. the worst thing a sudanese could give dubya). asser demonstrated the latter gesture by slowly lifting the middle finger of his right hand. well, at least dubya won't need the aid of a translator in that case. he went on to complete his thought by saying after the hand gesture he would have to, on the spot, disembowel dubya. ok...

i think i fell asleep after that. a/c has that effect on me.

by the way, asser said "death to america" as i faded. he tried to teach me the arabic translation but i can't remember what it was.

ed. notes.

1. no corresponding artsie photo this week. i'm required to purchase a photography permit at some horrendous price. i can't take pix of men/women in uniform. because the po-leece and armed forces are ubiquitous, i can't take a whole lotta pix in any case. therefore, in lieu, this week i have to type a million words to explain myself in place of the pix.

2. monday will be my first attempt at escaping the mirage called khartoum. i managed to get a ticket for 3 class (i.e. the cattle class) on the world's slowest train. no a/c. no diner car. sleeping sitting up. i'm going to treat it like a big picnic at bowness park. in 36 to 50 hours, theoretically, i should arrive at wadi halfa, a frontier town on the southern tip of lake nasser. there i take a 16 hr. cruise up the lake (i.e. the nile dammed) to aswan, egypt.

3. they ain't got beer here, but someone did offer me hashish though. go figure...

4. update: there was a break in the heat spell today. the sun was blocked by a massive sandstorm. there is a god. Allah.

5. it took me 5 hrs. yesterday to purchase the train/boat tix. today, it took me 5 hrs. to be registered as a foreign alien. for the latter, it was 44 USD to tell them i'm an alien...

6. i'm hiding in this internet cafe b/c they have great a/c.