Saya Mau Sewa Sepeda Reports arrive of a washed out bridge along the Trans-Sumatran forcing a circuitous detour connecting Lake Toba to regions south. Kay who speaks for her partner on all matters, cringes at the though of a twenty-four hour busride. The Scotsman explains that he made the journey from Bukittingi in six hours, first by road to Padang, thence flying Air Asia to Medan where he caught a direct bus, but last minute bookings are implausible for the shoestring traveller. Kay will return to Wales in a few weeks time for her sister’s wedding and ought to have a [View Full Entry]

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Medan: English Lesson with a Happy Ending It’s a day faster and with Air Asia it’s actually cheaper to fly KL to Medan, Indonesia's third largest city, a quick hop across the Straights of Malaka but I need to reach it by sea, want to relive bygone days of explorers and spice traders. The ship, however, is oblivious to any romantic notions, a low aluminium hull tosses its cargo from port to starboard and back mile after nautical mile, air con preserving passengers like produce in a refrigerator, no promenade deck for shuffleboard, just a muddy window pane, and a neighbour [View Full Entry]

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Kuala Lumpur The closest I've ventured yet toward the equator. Magenta paints a wispy horizon of the broadest sunset I've ever seen as the plane skims over the orderly regiments of palm tree plantations. I lug a thirty kilo suitcase along the curbs of Chinatown to a relatively quiet and windowless guesthouse the far end of Central Market. My shirt smells of sweaty cheese. Asians find westerners smell milky, a delight to mosquitoes. Super-sized shopping malls, fly-overs, 2 and 3 story colonial facades speckled with mould, undaunted rats the size of handbags scurry among the shadows, t [View Full Entry]

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The same day stretches six weeks long, waking, sleeping - it’s the same - denying routine, denying necessity, progress, change, accepting sunlight, escaping cold, watching an apartment block’s shadow creep up the block like a giant sundial tracking the day’s journey. Ants pass aboard buses, crowded into minivans, on three wheeled bicycles laden with boxes. Measuring time with questions. What next? Feeling the victim of circumstances, easier to procrastinate, stagnate, grow weary of a love affair. My lover and I argue, see the less than perfect existence, the differences betw [View Full Entry]

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New Year's Unmet Resolutions It's not as I'd expected. The apartment is not yet finished, the electricity unwired, hot water tank and kitchen appliances missing. I remain with Joan in his old flat, the rent contract now under Sergio's name. Joan has run into money problems. He paid the contractor the full cost for the kitchen appliances but the contractor put half that towards his employees' wages. Their employment has dragged on several months past the completion date. Joan is disappointed with their slack attention to detail. The light fixtures in the kitchen will have to be rewir [View Full Entry]

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Two weeks to cross south China, aboard a sleeper train from Kunming to Guilin, an expected two hours later than listed in the time table. A bus parked in front of the station departs for Yangshuo, an hour's drive down a highway resembling a long parking lot. I'm greeted by a pushy hostel staff member who quickly arranges my onward bus ticket to Shenzhen before booking me into an empty discount dormitory a short walk from the tourist congested centre. I am unwell for my few days stay. A kind young woman, Shanghainese, Christian, English speaking, works in a popular guesthouse [View Full Entry]

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"Uuuuh," Joan moans as we enter the PSB office on Beijing Lu, "this guy's a prick," he informs me under his breath. Within half a minute I've gathered as much. Standing across from him seperated by a desk, the officer speaks as though to an assembly. I respond in a likewise trumpeted voice, "I plan to travel around Yunnan, Guizhou and Guangzhou. He seems satisfied. I fill out the form and hand over my passport. It'll take a week. In the meantime Joan suggests a trip to the Burmese border. We arrange for friends to take care of Joan's black lab. [View Full Entry]

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There are rules in Kunming as in all towns, in all societies, but the young expats, a tribe of drifters, don't much adhere to them. One guy, I forget his name, remains behind bars, caught with a large possession of drugs a few months ago. A girlfriend paid him a visit. I forget her name too. She invited Joan but he declined. Like most in Kunming he had distanced himself from the pusher, told me in a taxi ride various instances that summarized the enprisoned foreigner's fate as following logically. There are plenty of pills in Kunming. Little baggies exchange hands, [View Full Entry]

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In Tibet's Shadow Before six the following morning in a cold darkness after the moon sets and the sun rises, four Brits, a Czech and I stand at the depot awaiting a bus that does not come. Shortly past nine we pile into a minivan for the joureny south into Yunnan. We've been warned of a four hour section along an unmettled road and keep an anxious eye out. We climb into the mountains headed west from Xiancheng taking a roundabout seldom traveled scenic route. The slopes shimmer gold and yellow and red. The narrow highway cuts through small villages with [View Full Entry]

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Sichuan-Tibet Highland Highway: Kangding, Litang, Xiancheng Saturday, October 20th, I am thirty today, a long day beginning at Xinnanmen, boarding the coach for Kangding, gateway to Tibet, 2560m above sea level, six grey hours drive west of Chengdu. The passengers are dressed in head to toe gortex and equipped with fancy cameras. I burry into a copy of Mark Twain's Innocents Abroad from which I learn of the author's unappreciated talent as a travel writer and the late nineteenth century's mistrust of his less than honourable commentaries of American tourists relic hunting i [View Full Entry]

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