…………………………………..GAME OVER.

We are back in Bangkok enjoying our last day before flying home to Blighty. 

Another smooth trip from Langkawi to Bangkok via KL courtesy of Air Asia although I do wish they’d give us a bit more leg room as John has to travel with his knees wedged almost under his chin!

We’re sorry to leave the sun and sea and the hospitality of the Frangipani and its very friendly staff.  The few lazy days spent in the sun have finally topped up our tans and given us a break from the travelling.  All too soon however it’s time to pack up and move on.  I’m getting a dab hand at packing although as the picture shows even travelling light there’s quite a mountain of stuff to cram into the bags.

So much stuff - so little space

Not to worry, I’ve found that by adopting the ‘grape treading’ process I can easily get everything in with room to spare.

Sorted!

 

Last night we visited our familiar haunts in Patpong starting at Joes bar.  It was nice to turn up in a bar 6,000 miles from home and find that the staff remembered us and our favourite tipples.  Chang followed Chang and Tiger followed Tiger and we had a fine time people watching and, engaging with the many hawkers.  We had a good laugh with ‘Big Foot’ and ‘Tiny’, the two barmaids and they teach us new Thai words to inform potential hawkers that we do not want to buy their tat. We hope we’re saying “no thank you” but for all we know we’re actually saying “sod off”.  Whatever the words mean, the phrase certainly works as we systematically try it out to good effect.

Can you guess which one is 'Big Foot'?

We do however get into a bit of a bidding war with a Dutch couple on who could get the lowest price for arm tattoo sleeves – unsuccessfully as it happens because despite our protestations of “peng”, the sellers wouldn’t come down to our agreed maximum of 50 tbh for two.  

We do however witness a German chap a little the worse for wear paying the amazing sum of 600 tbh (£12) for a small wooden frog which typically sells for about 50 tbh (£1).  He quickly becomes the target for most hawkers offering hats, lasers, and all manner of tat who are keen to profit from his lack of savvy.

We leave the bar about 12.30 – the stalls are starting to close for the night although I still find time to nab a quick bargain of a pair of shorts for £4.  Heading back to our hotel I hear someone call out “ Lucy?”  Turning around we are face to face with Rajiv and his lovely wife.  I worked with Rajiv in Leicester and they’ve only been in Thailand for a couple of days.  It’s their visit to Bangkok and they’re just setting off on their travels.  We exchange pleasantries and a street seller takes our photo.   Rajiv’s wife is four months pregnant and her bump is showing – a Thai fortune teller has predicted a boy but swami John is sure it will be a girl – we’ll find out who is right in early June.

After a decent night’s sleep we take the Sky Train this morning to try to buy a video player for the long journey home.  After 3 hours of umming and arring we settled on a dvd player for the netbook and a spare set of headphones.  Choosing the dvd player is a lot easier than choosing the DVDs to watch.  Knock off DVDs are available everywhere at about 100 tbh each – we buy a dozen. This is an interesting experience because the video sleeves on display are empty.  Once the selection is made the shop owner gets on the phone to the counterfeiter who creates your copies which are ready for collection 20 minutes later.  The covert operation of collecting the discs includes a clandestine meeting with a go-between in a quiet doorway.

Not exactly an under-cover operation

 There’s only the final packing to do and getting set for tomorrow’s drive to the airport and the flight home. We spend a pleasant afternoon by the pool for a last bit of sunshine and wonder about the people who have been hitting our blog for the last five and a half weeks.  We’ve had over 700 hits  - mainly from the UK but also Canada, USA, Netherlands, Slovenia, Laos, Malaysia and Poland.  Whoever you are – we hope you’ve enjoyed the trip as much as us and thank you for visiting.

We’ll put on a final blog when we return to the UK with some of the 2,000 photos that we have taken and our reflections on the trip.  We are looking forward to seeing everyone when we get home. 

  

John & Lucy

The accidental Langkawi skinny-dipper

An uneventful trip via KL got us to Langkawi early afternoon. The sun is shining and the tiredness and worries of JB quickly disappear behind us. Check in at the Frangipani Resort is slow and methodical but we get a little apprehensive when they say our room is not ready so please wait at the bar.

One of the "JB two" enjoys his escape

Never one to refuse an offer of a drink, we troll along to the bar which over-looks the sea and partake of a few beers and chat to a Dutch couple who live 6 months of the year in Asia and 6 months in France – Lucky buggers.

Our room is soon ready and we throw the bags in, change into our cossies and hit the beach.  Big wow factor - the waves are crashing onto the beach making a fantastic vista with sand which is almost white, a rich turquoise blue sea and  the sun shining.  We are two happy bunnies.

From the prow of an abandoned boat that forms part of the bar we watch the sun setting over a small island.  An enormous liner slides out from between the islands heading back to Bangkok.  We’ve chosen a quiet part of the beach and although the resort is busy there is plenty of room.  We find a spot under the shade of swaying palm trees and enjoy the cool breeze which blows in from the sea.

We wander up the street to shop for essential supplies (crisps and wine) and we find Sagars, a little Indian restaurant which serves excellent food.  The chicken tandoori, nan bread combination is supplemented with a tasty mutton rogan gosht and we relax further into Langkawi relaxation mode.

We make breakfast about 10am and as newbies learn the ropes that the tactic much adopted by Germans is in full force here.  Sunbeds and tables are reserved by towels – but when we hit the beach there are still plenty of prime spots available.  The waves are bigger than yesterday and thunder on the shore.  We have to brave the breakers which range between 4 and 8 feet in height to reach the calm sea beyond.

Now there is a right way and a wrong way to get through the breakers.  Get it right, and just before they break the wave gently lifts you up in drops you softly as it passes.  Get it wrong and you end up experiencing the turmoil that washing machines wreak on clothes in a fast spin cycle.  I get it wrong, badly wrong!  The big breaker smashes over me and I spin and tumble head over heels gasping for air.  I emerge like Botticelli’s ‘Venus emerging from the waves’ – as I struggle to my feet my pants are round my knees and full of sand and my bikini top is in the middle of my back. When the next big wave hits I am left completely undressed expecting my bikini to be floating to shore.  John who has a better footing protects my dignity and we dissolve into fits of laughter.  I struggle to regain my modesty but luckily I am not to my knowledge observed by any other on-lookers and don’t therefore expect to appear as a clip on YBF.

The days pass gently as we soak up the rays and enjoy the time to relax. After so much walking and site-seeing over the last few weeks the furthest we now venture is the beach bar for cool beers and cocktails.

We enjoy the peace and quiet broken only by flocks of mating birds which are jockeying for position.  We also watch the sea-eagles soaring above the island and one evening whilst sitting on the veranda, we’re joined by a pair of hornbills who sit in the adjacent palm tree.

We feel the holiday is almost at an end – and too soon it will be time to head back to Thailand and the long journey home.  Join us soon for our last post….

Sipping Slings in Singapore

People, ourselves included have got it wrong when we think of Singapore as a sterile, rule driven city where minor transgressions for litter and gum chewing are punished by huge fines.  Yes there are lots of rules, and yes there are fines too but by contrast to JB, Singapore is safe, bustling and clean.  Getting through the immigration from Malaysia was easy although we kept being asked “why only one day?”  What people meant was “why are you going back each night to JB?”

Welcome to Singapore - A fine place

Our starting point was the spectacular Marina Bay Sands Hotel, with more than 2,500 bedrooms contained in three towers and topped with the impressive Skypark which looks like an ocean liner in the clouds.  The bus station is in the basement and is equally impressive and a far cry from Larkin Road.

We’d compiled a list of places of interest we wanted to visit and with only a day and a half we had to be disciplined.  A short taxi ride to Chinatown where we studied the map and enjoyed some crispy roast duck and pancakes. 

We headed for Changi Prison which is off the beaten track - looking at the map it looked like a quick tube ride and a short hop on a no 2 bus but…. map not to scale and 35 minutes on the tube followed by a bus trip of 16 stops, still we made it. 

The Changi museum is based next door to the fully operational Changi prison which is enormous. We’re not sure who is locked up there as crime is low and Singapore is a small island.   The museum is interesting but I didn’t get a feel for what conditions were really like.  This is partly because the true site of Changi is not accessible and partly because it reflects more broadly the occupation by the Japanese rather than the treatment of allied troops.  The displays are informative and include a replica of the church which was established inside Changi .  We listened to audio tapes as we walked around and inmates retold in their own words their often harrowing tales of brutality under theJapanese. 

We retraced our steps back into Chinatown which by now was bustling with excitement as people start to shop for the Chinese new year . Red lanterns are everywhere and the atmosphere is electric.  We just have a time for a few beers before heading back to JB.

There are red sausages everywhere too!

On day 2 we start at the Harbour Centre to experience the Jewel Box cable car.  The cable car runs from the 16^th floor of a tower block and is the biggest I have ever seen.  My fear of heights is obviously diminishing as we reached the top without serious incident.  The views of the Singapore skyline and harbour were amazing.  In the harbour hundreds of boats are at anchor in the blue sea waiting to enter the busy port.  The sun is shining and we can see for miles from this fantastic vantage point. 

We  jump back into the cable car which heads over the bay to Sendai Island.  Sendai is an entertainment centre with artificial beaches, a theme park and Universal Studios. We have a brief mooch around and John spots a tall tower. He’s keen to go up but personally I think the heights I have been to in the last few days are sufficient. I opt for a coffee while John heads up the 110 metre revolving tower which give good views of Sendai’s amenities.

Back to the Harbour Centre and we even manage to spot a couple of pink dolphins swimming in the harbour below us. A couple of shops take John’s interest – you can probably guess why.

Next stop Raffles Place which is in the heart of the commercial district with the river running through the middle.  There are lots of bars and eateries but we want to cruise up the river on a bum boat.  The half hour trip is very relaxing as we wind our way between small houses and bars over-shadowed by massive sky scrapers. The Chinese believe that the big basin shaped marina at this part of the river is lucky which is why so many buildings overlook the river. The views from the river are spectacular with each bend taking you into a different kind of area with one consistent element  - bars.

We have a special bar in mind for our next stop – The Long Bar at Raffles Hotel. On the way John is stopped by a fortune teller (conman)  who holds Johns hand and tells him what a lucky person he is although he has one weakness – people take advantage of him.  He manages to get $s10 from us and as his patter continues he asks us for $s200.  There’s taking advantage and taking the piss and we part company and just to prove how lucky John is, the heavens open with a torrential down pour.

Raffles Hotel – we’ve heard stories that they can be a bit sniffy if you’re improperly dressed (eg wearing Partick Thistle scarf).  I walk up the wide path to this last bastion of Britishness and with some trepidation ask the imposing Sikh doorman about the Long Bar.  No problem, he even poses with me for a photo. 

The colonial building is dwarfed by the surrounding skyscrapers and smell of the highly polished wood and the mosaic marble floors give a real feel of Empire.  We pass the tiffin room where guests are enjoying high tea. Obviously the part of the hotel that we are free to roam is away from the £700 a night guest rooms.  It really is a tourist trap with expensive designer shops and souvenirs but it is lovely.

The Long Bar is on the second floor and is full of other tourists doing the same as us.  Each table has a big box of peanuts which you eat – discarding the shells onto the floor – this takes a bit of getting used to especially as we are in a country where dropping litter holds an instant fine of £200.  Although draft Guinness is available John decides to do the Noel Coward thing and we like most people, we order Singapore Slings.   

Singapore Slings and shells on the floor

We follow up with Raffles fish and chips and a pot of tea which we enjoyed as we relaxed in the comfortable surroundings. We were entertained by the bar manager who had an unerring aim with peanuts which he used to drive away a couple of pigeons which had managed to get in.  We ordered an ice bucket for our wallet and paid the bill.

Back for beers in Chinatown where we bumped into two fellow Rafflesians who like us were taking a beer and watching the world go by. We chatted to Louise and Una and promised them 
a mention in the blog

Back to the Marina Bay Sands for the return to JB, we just had time to visit the sky park.  It’s not been open long and at 200metres high, the views of Singapore as night was closing in have made a lasting impression.  The wooden decking really gives an impression of being on a liner with a bow and faux masts.

We head back to JB with the knowledge that tomorrow we’re leaving at 6.45 am for a flight to Langkawi.  You can follow our progress in our next blog

Johor Bharu - What a cowp

Singaporeans refer to their poor neighbour as Dodge City, a lawless dangerous town where crime and personal risks are high.  As hardened travellers we determined to make up our own mind but on reflection the best thing about Johor Bahru is Highway 1 leading to Senai Airport.

To be fair, I’m not sure that we ever saw the place at its best and things didn’t start well with our arrival at Larkin Road bus station.  Larkin Road is a big sprawling expanse of dirty smoke belching buses, food stalls which look like they sell bits from the bins of KFC and unsavoury chaps touting taxis at exorbitant rates.  

The metered taxi rank was ominously empty and we engaged the services of a gentleman whose car was of a vintage typical of a Cameron Highland’s cab – so old that it did not have seat belts in the back – the need for which became apparent as we made the journey to our hotel.  

JB is in the midst of a major road building programme that imposes an extreme one way system on drivers sometimes taking them more than 5 kilometres out of their way.  We learned this when we arrived at the wrong hotel – our taxi driver, reluctant to tackle the one way system decided instead to take on the rush hour by driving into the on-coming traffic – and so we headed off down the three lane highway into dense traffic for about 1 kilometre, occasionally darting to our right to avoid the heavier buses and lorries approaching in our lane with headlights blazing.

John "this is a one way street" Taxi driver "I'm only going one way"

Amazingly, we arrived unscathed at the Thistle Hotel, our 5 star bolt hole in a frontier town of ill repute.  By an amazing slice of luck we found that there was a daily coach service to Singapore and we reserved places for the next two days.  We dumped the bags in the room which had a soothing sound of running water and headed downstairs to arrange a trip into JB.

If the first impression generated by Larkin Road was poor, the second impression created by Danga Bay confirmed the view that JB was not going to offer a favourable tour experience.  Danga Bay looked like Toxteth the morning after the riots – shops lay derelict and the vast expanse of mainly empty car park suggested that the good days were behind it – I couldn’t muster any enthusiasm even for the interesting sounding Danga Bay Petting Centre – although I’m sure plenty was going on in the cars dotted in the dimly lit corners of the car park.

The final nail in JB’s coffin however was delivered by its own tourist brochure – which amongst its top attraction lists the Johor Tourist Information Centre, the JB Rehab Centre, Balai Seni Nusantra (a double-storey bungalow which I think is better described as a house) and Muzium Nanas.  The latter, a museum dedicated to pineapples and boasting more than 18 varieties of the interesting fruit is a mere 45 minute drive from JB.  Regretfully, none of these star attractions were observed.

Johor Bharu - Best seen at night ...from Kuala Lumpur

The concierge recommended a visit to a shopping mall as the best thing in JB and after a two hour visit which was a 45 minute drive from the hotel we returned to the Thistle.  I discovered that the soothing sound of running water was the toilet which had a broken flush and continued to run all night.

I reported the broken toilet before departing for Singapore – we returned at 10pm to the soothing sound of running water but with the added attraction of a flooded bathroom.  Cue raging fury, telephone rant, apologetic customer experience manager, rant at custom experience manager who experienced some direct customer feedback and transfer to an upgraded room which functioning toilet apart was no improvement.

By now we were on a crusade and compiled a comprehensive dossier on the room’s shortcomings including unidentified hairs and assorted muck and dust – a stiff letter will be penned to the manger of this so called 5 star hotel – amongst the worst we’ve ever stayed in.

Thistle Hotel - Customer Experience Department

The saving grace of Johor Bahru was its proximity to Singapore and in the following blog we’ll tell you about our fantastic time there………. 

Malaka-ka-ka-ka

After a hearty breakfast we set off to explore.  Crossing the river, the deafening noise of loud music with plenty of base booms out. We automatically think boy racers in souped up cars are cruising early but we laugh when we identify the source.  Melaka is home to the trishaw, a combination of bicycle and rickshaw for taking tourists around the sights of the town.  Each trishaw is garishly decorated with bright, mostly plastic flowers and garlands and the owners assume that the playing of extremely loud pop music will draw punters wanting to take a musical tour. Although the trishaw peddlers are keen for business we are mostly ignored – mainly because John snarls at the thought of travelling with this racket!

Pimp my trishaw

We walk to a small fortress with cannons facing in all directions which is part of the original Dutch defence of the town.  Several groups of youngsters, all wearing purple t-shirts appear to be taking part in an orienteering competition.  We watch as each team completes a task (throwing water filled balloons into various buckets) and on completion receives further instruction as to the next location. We continued to see purple clad groups throughout the day – come to think of it the last group passed us when we were in the pub at midnight!

A refreshing mango’ shake and a bust up with a Buddhist priest set us up for the well-trodden tourist route to the reconstructed Sultan’s palace which was made of wood and contained no nails. Some interesting gems were found inside (see below) and the A/C was definitely welcome. 

Glass, bottle, bottle glass - please yer bloody selves

The Sultan’s secret garden which whilst being wonderfully laid out is a little neglected possibly because the gardners aren’t in on the secret. We spot a lot of birds in the gardens including a small hawk before wandering back to the main drag and the thud of the trishaw boom boxes.

Malaka has more museums than you can shake a stick at – and they cover almost every topic under the sun (although the stick shaking museum is in Kluang) – literature, nautical, architecture, customs and stamps. John spotted the stamp museum but I managed to discourage him from entering by pointing out some trains and old aircraft a little further on.  He walked around happily taking photos although there was little context to the display which also included armoured cars and a 1957 white Cadillac.

In need of a comfort break and having already experienced the not inconsiderable risks associated with the local facilities we head for a shopping centre where we have learnt a better standard of bathroom can be experienced.  The mall is packed with youngsters shopping ‘til they drop and John struggles to get me past the myriad of shoe shops on our way to the loos which are as expected, top quality.  We navigate our way out of the centre past Burger King, KFC and Macdonalds – although the mall has plenty of outlets selling local food it’s the fast food chains that are packed out.  We don’t go in.

Outside, we cross six lanes of traffic to reach the other side only to realise we should have stayed on the other side.  The rules of the road are less clear in Malaka and appear to involve wandering through the lines of traffic and praying that a nippy Honda 50 doesn’t come past on the outside! 

We search in vain for an eatery for a snack and a drink - don’t ask how we end up in the Chinese equivalent of Gleggs. The helpful assistant explains what’s in each mound of pastry and John picks out a few delights although I’m pleased to say he leaves behind the ‘sweet wife buns’.  I offer a 5 ringett note but when they notice a small tear they refuse to accept it – obviously they share Nuttall’s obsession with perfection.  After paying with a pristine note the shopkeeper produces scissors and sellotape to repair the damaged note with surgical precision. I can now pass it on to a street seller who won’t be so fussy.

The shop's claims come up short - it only sells cakes

The little pastries are as hot as molten lava and I suffer first degree burns when a blob of the sweet pork drips out and disappears up the leg of my shorts – I rebuff John’s offer of assistance and eventually cool down.  

Unusually, tonight we do things right!  We have a rest back at the hotel before heading out about 9 o’clock.  First stop is Pak Putra which is heaving  – Plastic tables and chairs fill the street which is full of local families enjoying the balmy night air and the excellent cheap food. There’s a real feel of community and most customers are apparently locals dining in extended families and giving a real feel of community. Pak Putra is basic with all the cooking done in front of you on the street in the tandoors and we quickly grab a table.  The dining equivalent is eating your tea sitting outside the Newbold co-op – the smell of the drains doesn’t detract from the food nor bother anyone. The tandoori chicken and nan does not disappoint.

What does cause some concern however is the appearance of a large flying insect – the chap at an adjacent table to us preforms a spectacular evasion of the winged attacker and diners scatter.  I am in awe of John’s courage as he alone resists the urge to panic and sits calmly as the creature flies nearer – although he moves quite sharpish when I tell him the beast has settled between his legs!

Heading back to Jonkers for a few drinks at about 10.30 we find the place jumping – the bars are packed and spill out into the streets and everyone is having a good time.  In Geographers, the incoherent resident DJ has just taken the mike as we sit down. To my surprise, he announces what sounds like ‘tonight we’re going to do some Longmoor line dancing’.  Up get the locals and the line dancing begins although I’m not sure it was in ‘Longmore’ style. We sit transfixed and as the line dancing finishes  the local equivalent of Fred Astaire and Ginger who were sitting next to us get up and perform the Malaka Strictly Come Dancing tribute with complicated rumbas and passadobles incorporating throws and twists which have the appreciative and intoxicated audience cheering.  

 

The Geographer has an arrangement with Ringo’s Bar over the road whereby our incoherent song slaughterer does a half hour slot before their incoherent song slaughter takes over for half an hour.  Chatting to Fred and Ginger between their frequent trips to the dance floor they tell us that many of the locals attend dance classes which they try out on Saturday night.

When the rock-n-roll comes on an old boy with a white cap (possibly the last surviving member of the Rubettes) puts everyone to shame as he and his partner jive around the small dance floor in a style which can only be described as CAF.

Much to our amusement the best is saved for late on as the locals take their turn at the mike singing in a style reminiscent of Vic Reeves’ pub singer – singing lessons have obviously not been part of their preparations and they don’t let the lyrics get in the way either as they slaughter some well-known classics including Jail House Lock - John had tears rolling down his face to some of the interpretations given by these karaoke singers who whatever they lack in skill more than compensate with sheer gusto.  The haranguing delivery of Ob la di Ob la dah has to be heard to be believed.

We leave the bar at 2am but get the feeling that they will still all be going strong for a good few hours yet.