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Thursday, 17 February 2011
A list: Memorable things to do (or avoid doing) in Asia...
In Vietnam.
Chugging up the Mekong river, devastated by the absolute poverty and yet at the same time wondering where Colonel Kurtz was hiding himself. “Never get out of the boat.”
In Nepal.
Realising, after having launched into a five-minute tirade against China and the continued prominence of Chairman Mao, that the person I was speaking to in Kathmandu was actually a Nepalese Maoist, and I was, in essence, being
held for money. My response? Think fast and backtrack quickly.
In India.
Being rudely woken in the middle of the night as our bus shot off the road and crashed into the jungle. After disembarking to make sure everyone was unharmed, we very quickly barricaded ourselves back on board when an angry group
of screaming monkeys – teeth bared and out for blood – came swinging from the trees. We were huddled there for hours.
In Tibet.
Getting scolded by an old Tibetan woman in Lhasa for speaking Mandarin. My mistake. She understood me perfectly but said she preferred to use basic hand signals rather than 'that' language.
In Malaysia.
Cleverly escaping to Malaysia to avoid the oppressive Chinese New Year celebrations, only to discover that nearly a quarter of the population of Malaysia are ethnically Chinese anyway.
In Korea.
Hunting up and down the Han river in Seoul for the famous monster. Yes I know it's fictional – but you'd be surprised how many locals didn't.
Very funny.
In Thailand.
Multiple awkward occasions. Do I say 'he' or 'she'? I just don't know.
In Indonesia.
Finally reaching the smoking crater at the top of furious Krakatoa, smelling the sulphur and suddenly realising that the rubber on my shoes had melted. You try climbing down the side of an active volcano without shoes.
In Cambodia.
The awkward moment when, just a few miles away from the truly humbling 'Killing Fields', we were taken into a barn, given AK47s and told that for just a few dollars we could shoot a cow. Ending a chickens life with a hand grenade
was even cheaper. Needless to say, we declined the offer.
In the Himalayas.
Wrapped in Yak skins, gasping for breath at 5,100 metres above sea level, with the mercury hitting -30 degrees and a trek to Everest to look forward to the following day. Quite possibly the longest night of my life.
Chugging up the Mekong river, devastated by the absolute poverty and yet at the same time wondering where Colonel Kurtz was hiding himself. “Never get out of the boat.”
In Nepal.
Realising, after having launched into a five-minute tirade against China and the continued prominence of Chairman Mao, that the person I was speaking to in Kathmandu was actually a Nepalese Maoist, and I was, in essence, being
held for money. My response? Think fast and backtrack quickly.
In India.
Being rudely woken in the middle of the night as our bus shot off the road and crashed into the jungle. After disembarking to make sure everyone was unharmed, we very quickly barricaded ourselves back on board when an angry group
of screaming monkeys – teeth bared and out for blood – came swinging from the trees. We were huddled there for hours.
In Tibet.
Getting scolded by an old Tibetan woman in Lhasa for speaking Mandarin. My mistake. She understood me perfectly but said she preferred to use basic hand signals rather than 'that' language.
In Malaysia.
Cleverly escaping to Malaysia to avoid the oppressive Chinese New Year celebrations, only to discover that nearly a quarter of the population of Malaysia are ethnically Chinese anyway.
In Korea.
Hunting up and down the Han river in Seoul for the famous monster. Yes I know it's fictional – but you'd be surprised how many locals didn't.
Very funny.
In Thailand.
Multiple awkward occasions. Do I say 'he' or 'she'? I just don't know.
In Indonesia.
Finally reaching the smoking crater at the top of furious Krakatoa, smelling the sulphur and suddenly realising that the rubber on my shoes had melted. You try climbing down the side of an active volcano without shoes.
In Cambodia.
The awkward moment when, just a few miles away from the truly humbling 'Killing Fields', we were taken into a barn, given AK47s and told that for just a few dollars we could shoot a cow. Ending a chickens life with a hand grenade
was even cheaper. Needless to say, we declined the offer.
In the Himalayas.
Wrapped in Yak skins, gasping for breath at 5,100 metres above sea level, with the mercury hitting -30 degrees and a trek to Everest to look forward to the following day. Quite possibly the longest night of my life.
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