Thursday February 25th. Bangkok, Thailand

Three week mark! And it's our first time in the Northern Hemisphere together...awww...
We got through Thai customs with no troubles, but no smiles either, and into Banglamphu, the touristy part of Bangers. Our intended hostel was full, so we forked out $20 for another one, then returned to Joe's Guesthouse and booked in for the next two nights. It was 9pm before we ventured our for dinner, and waht an adventure! Khao San Road is a party street and a half. There's night markets selling knuckle dusters, laser pointers, 'designer' underwear and everything in between. Food carts have pad thai, kebabs, BBQ corn, roasted cockroahces, fruit, milkshakes and pancakes galore. We stuck with the pad thai. Sneaky old men line the middle of the street (usually pedestrian only) and show the young fellas that pass a tiny card with all the sex show options - 'one pussy, seven ping pong'. The taxi drivers are also in on it, offering 'Taxi, si? Ping pong, sir?'. There are so many backpackers and enough bars to cater for all of them. Apparently every bar can make 'the strongest cocktail' in a bucket; one bar even advertises that they don't check ID cards. No biggie, because you can get fake IDs, student cards, dive certificates, even diplomas from the market stalls.
Knackered from a day of travel, we hit the sack pretty early, only to be woken up by knocking on the door (knock and run!), and a phone call about 3am. Not to mention the music from all the bars and clubs.
The next morning we braved Khao San Road again, very different atmosphere in day time. Got some breakfast, many offers of taxis and tuk tuks and tours (no sex shows in the morning) and changed hotels. New Joe Guesthouse has a cool restaurant, bar and coffee shop, but the room is tiny, and the bathroom is a toilet with a shower head on the wall. But, it's $12.
We spent the afternoon walking by the river, which has a nice path along it (better than anything in Jakarta), and canals every now and then, and a nice green park in which we had a bit of a sit. Went for dinner along Soi Rambutri, very nice and less back packers than Khao San. Good people watchin. Tried to sell our Lonely Planet Bali but got rejected at 400 Baht. So that's how the market people feel. He didn't even try to bargain.
Today (Thursday), despite every intention to be up early to beat the heat, we only left the hostel at 10am. Walked to the Grand Palace - despite everyone offering us lifts, bless them. Got conned on the way by people with corn to feed the pigeons - they shoved it in our hands, even between my back and backpack, opened the packets for us and made us throw around the corn, saying it was for luck and hapiness in Buddhism or some shit. Then they wanted us to pay 150 Baht! But we gave them about 30 and walked away. Sneaky sneaky corn people.
We had to borrow very cool long pants and skirt to get into the Grand Palace (modesty and that). The Temple of the Emerald Buddha was quite spectacular, very ornate mosaics of glass and colour tiles - Mum's mosaic class would like it...The whole area was very grand, lots of big buildings and little temples, also lots of tourists and security guards with guns. And the lawns were immaculate! Obviously we weren't allowed on them. Got a very poor kebab for lunch and are now relaxing in the hostels restaurant.

Indonesia - the sights and sounds

- Men in thongs welding at night time on steel house frames
- Stop/Go signs made out of green banana leaves and yellow plastic bottles
- 7-hour late bus trips
- Drunk bus drivers
- Grand piano player in a shopping centre food court
- Savoury donuts
- Pool lounge workers who wrack up the balls for you
- More staff than customers at every shop/restaurant/bar
- Bamboo scaffolding and ladders
- Smoking in every shop, building, restaurant, bus, taxi, any public place...
- Dodgy accommodation (but you get what you pay for): no glass in windows; blood (could be chocolate...) on walls; bidet but no toilet paper; internet bookings available, but reception has no internet; bamboo everything - chairs, cupboards, beds; no shower curtains; hot water extra

The smells:
Sanur smelt like burning plastic, BBQed corn, and rotting fruit. A very sweet but overwhelming stench that got in your nose.
Ubud smelt like rotting bananas.
The ferry smelt like shit and petrol.
Sengiggi smelt like desperation, with a hint of tourism potential.
Mt Rinjani smelt like home...crisp and clean, with a touch of sulphur.
Gili Trawangan smelt like backpackers, horse shit, and cheap alcohol.
The ferry still smelt like shit and petrol.
Denpasar smelt like fumes and nasi goreng.
Jakarta smells like petrol, two stroke engines, satay, and wealth.

Updated-eroonie

All the below entries are just what I've written in my (leather-bound...thanks Siggy!) diary over the past three weeks. My wrists hurt now...and I'm hungry, so over and out.

Jakarta, Indonesia. Friday Feb 19, 7pm.

What a hectic couple of days.
First, our days on Gili T:
We walked around the island, took about two and a half hours. Away from the main tourist strip were a couple of big resorts on deserted beaches. There was one made from the hull of a ship! We swam for a bit, and Phill tried to get all Bear Grylls on a coconut, and failed. There was a massive deserted bar, with huge platforms right on the beach, but it looked abandoned. There was lots of empty plots...our hotel owner encouraged us to buy up...
Spent the afternoon relaxing on the beach and eating...lots of eating.
On Monday we went on a snorkelling 'cruise', on a very dodgy boat, with dodgy 'guides' and dodgy gear...for $9. It was good fun though, we went to three dive spots, the first with ok coral, the second was called Turtle Point (for the turtles), and the last spot, near Gili Air, was awesome coral and fish, really shallow and close to shore. After diving they took us to a restaurant on Gili Air - bit of a rort as we stayed there for about an hour and it rained the whole time.
That night we were going to go wild (and Phill did). One pub on Gili T had 14,000Rp (about $1.70) double vodkas and whiskeys, so we indulged. Phill had to have a beer to 'settle his stomach' after the dodgy local whiskeys. The vodka (and sunburn) made me ill, so I pyked...Phill can tell you about his night...
The next day (Tuesday?) we began an epic journey back to Denpasar. First there was the hour 'ferry' back to Lombok, a two-hour shuttle to the port in Lembar (a very scary trip in the front seat), about an hour wait in a packed shed at the port, with so many offers of rice (to be fair, it was good rice for 80 cents). Then finally we boarded the ferry for Padang Bai in Bali for six hours. Then there was the two and a half shuttle to Denpasar. Then walking around the bus terminal at Denpasar to try and find a hotel (they were all 'pull'). Finally after about half an hour we found one, for 50,000Rp, with a squat toilet. We went and booked a bus ticket to Jakarta - about $35 for the supposed 24-hour bus.
The next morning (Wednesday) we were at the bus depot at 5.45am, left Denpasar at 7.30 and proceeded to have a very interesting 31 hours on the bus. Granted, the seats were comfortable and reclined, air con was good, blankets and pilllows, and the bus was only half full (or half empty, if you are the bus company).
We only found out after 29 hours that our two drivers (and their 'companion' in a purple boiler suit) were drinking Indonesian whisky the whole trip. This would go some way to explain the erratic driving, extended 'toilet' breaks, and excessive horn usage.
The roads were dodgy and narrow, but our drivers insisted on overtaking at any possible opportunity - a loud horn seems to make it legal. They even beeped police cars! We were stuck at roadworks (blokes in thongs with shovels, not a Stop/Go sign to be seen) for at least an hour.
A good thing was the meals. For lunch and dinner we stopped at big roadside cafes and had rice, veges and chicken, included in the ticket. But poor Phillip was still under the spell of the runs and not up to much. He even had to do a poo in a squat toilet at a rest stop. Luckily though not in the bus, whose toilet was disgusting (naturally).
When, at 10am we finally started to (slowly, very slowly)roll in to Jakarta, the bus stopped at its final company terminal...we're still not sure where it is though. We had no map (and no Lonely Planet, God forbid!) and no concept of where we were, and where Jakarta was... After much poor Indonesian/English conversations with people at the bus terminal, we got a taxi to the Ibis Hotel, only because we happened to see it on Wotif.com a couple of days ago, and it said it was in the city centre. After an awful two and a half days travelling, with swollen ankles and upset stomachs we were happy to part with $60 for a room at the Ibis - with aircon, hot AND cold water, a fridge, cable TV, and a checkout time of 12pm. So we were happy.
We showered (so clean!) and got a map and our bearings, and a $5 taxi to the Chinese Embassy.
So...there's this thing that the Chinese people celebrate, called Chinese New Year...in February! Those crazy Chinese! So after walking around the building, feeling very intimidated by the metal fences and barbed wire, we found a page sticky taped to the fence saying the embassy was closed for a week to celebrate the year of the freaking tiger. It opens Monday 9am, we fly out Tuesday 4pm, so hopefully we can get me an emergency visa on Monday.
So back to the city, where we found the fanciest shopping mall ever - valet parking, flowers in the toilets, and security checks for taxis and customers. All the big buildings, particularly big company head quarters, has a huge security contingent, since the bombings in Jakarta.
We found lots of Western brands - Hugo Boss, Nike, Marks and Spencers (!) and lots of Western restaurants. Phill indulged in a Fatburger for $10, and I bought the last Harry Potter book from an English book store, which made me happy.
Then back to the Ibis to relax! Watched alot of the Winter Olympics on ESPN (go Torah!) and a bad Indiana Jones film. WE both had an awesome 10-hour sleep.
NOW we are in another hotel, Focus, still near the city but not so nice. We booked on Wotif.com but the reception lady could not understand us, and pretty sure they didn't have the Internet. The hotel is very close to some markets and it seems alot of traders stay here - there is a massive store room (doubles as reception) with people packing and unpacking goods, and about 100 mopeds just parked there. The best thing - free WiFi!
Went to the movies this arvo - From Paris with Love. Wow - bad. But it was $3 each, and a good way to spend a rainy afternoon in Jakarta. WE also negotiated the traffic and walked to the National Museum, paid 20 cents and looked around for a bit. But then we got hungry, and when we get hungry we get grumpy.

Gili Trawangan, Lombok. Saturday Feb 13th, 7pm.

Kate: "Hey Phill, would you call this paradise?"
Phill: "It's pretty good."
We found paradise (as did all the other backpackers here) after a gruelling two-day trek to the crater rim of Mt Rinjani, Indonesia's second largest volcano. It started at 5am yesterday (we were lucky that it got put back a day because of bad weather, because Phill had a bad case of the runs...), when wer were driven from Sengiggi to Senaru, and started walking about 7am. It was Phill and I, our guide and very strong porter, both in thongs. We walked through dense rainforest for about 6 hours...nothing much changes scenery-wise in the rainforest. There was cloud and mist to block any view we might have had. It was very difficult going - muddy, slippery and slow. We had lunch and a bit of a nap at 'Pos 3', where it started pouring rain and getting well cold. We met other trekkers there, Brigette and Yves from France, about 50 years old and with not great English (mind you, it was better than our French), but we managed to get on. Then we continued, up, up, up for about two hours in very loose volcanic stones and soil. Phill is 'lucky to be alive' after the path collapsed about a metre because of the rain run-off. There wasd still very thick cloud and mist, but once it gradually cleared the view was spectacular - luch rolling green hills, rainforest below and the sea.
We camped the night at Pelawangan 1, 2,641m above sea level, and it got cold! Out amazing guide and porter cooked us nasi goreng for dinner - fried egg and all!
Just before sunset, when the clouds slowly cleared, we went to the crater rim, about another 25min hike. From there we would see the peak of Mt Rinjani (3,726m), and the volcano Gunung Baru (2,315m) in a 6km wide liake, Danau Segara Anak (...thanks to Lonely Planet for the stats...). WE had enough time for photos and looking before the bloody clouds rolled back in.
WE were properly knackered. I had sprained my hip flexor and any movement up hurt. Not to mention the feet, calves and cankles. We were in bed (in tents set up by our porters) by 7.30, but then the rains came, urchin dogs that followed us up started fighting, and the real muscle pain set in. Being so exhausted but not being able to sleep is upsetting and annoying, especially knowing that the next day we had a 5-hour hike downhill.
We started walking again about 7am, after about 2 hours sleep, and by 9am I was having a bit of a cry. Getting to a check point and knowing how far there is still to go, hot and humid, and every muscle aching - our guide carried my day pack after he saw my tears.
From Senaru, at the base of the mountain, we were driven to Bangsal harbour, where the local touts wanted Phill's Socceroos t-shirt, and one boy said he was in Sydney yesterday...'in my dreams'. They all had really good English, learnt from hassling tourists every day.
There was an outrigger type boat to take us to Gili Trawangan, packed with people and cargo, but safe enough. We were approached very quickly by a bloke with bungalows, and we were so exhausted we said yes to 150,000Rp a night.
Gili T looks gorgeous, from what we have seen so far. Lots of dive schools, western style restaurants and bars, and young folk playing soccer and volleyball. The water is beautiful, with white coral washing ashore.
So knackered now though, so we will leave the bars and clubs for another night.

Sengiggi, Lombok. Tuesday Feb 9, 9pm.

Today we braved the chaos that is Indonesia's traffic. We aren't even sure where we went, but we rode for about 3 hours on mopeds. Pretty sure we went through Lombok's capital, Mataram, twice. Once we came upon a Hindu procession along the (probably only) one-way, double lane street. It meant a mass of scooters and cars and trucks trying to get around a whole bunch of Hindus (collective noun). We did pretty well, not hitting anything or anyone, and not having our feet run over. We made our way out of town (still not sure where) and on to a country backroad, full of potholes and gravel piles (it's ok Dad, they were hire bikes), but through lovely villages, rice padis and creeks. A white person on a moped must be a rarity, as all the school children waved and giggled when we said hello. We weren't sure where the road was leading, or even where it started, so we turned around eventually.
It was good to get out of the touristy areas and see how and where Lombokus live, but it still has little appeal to me. Constant pollution from burning plastic, horse shit everywhere from the horse and carts, and fumes from dodgy mopeds (ours included) don't do it for me. Give me the crisp Invergowrie air anyday.
Sengiggi, though, is beautiful. The main drag is along a sheltered bay facing west, so lovely sunsets. Although like most beaches we've been to, hotels and resorts seem to occupy the space between the main street and its shops, and the sand. This emphasises the tourist nature of the town. Where are the locals meant to hang out with their families? And how do we get from our hotel, on the other side of the street, to the sand, without going through a bar and having to stop for an icy cold Bintang?
We arrived in Sengiggi yesterday, after a six hour ferry ride from Ubud (130,000Rp). Our shuttle bus from the port in Lembar to Sengiggi deposited us at a tourist information centre, and despite being adamant about not saying yes to the first thing we were offered, we were presented with a deal we thought was good - 3 nights accommodation, 2 days moped hire, and the overnight trek up Mount Rinjani for 1.75-million Rp each (about $220).
The hotel - Puri Sengiggi - is nice, but no shower curtain!
Buy of the day - Phill's sarong for 50,000Rp, from our friend Jef at the art market. Jef had his name on his thongs, and took a photo of us shopping to put in an ad.
And a blackout at dinner meant free fruit!
Advice for the day - wear sunscreen on your hands while on a moped...

Ubud, Bali. Sunday Feb 7, 2010. 5pm.

It's not very often that I feel like throwing up while exercising, but after 10kms of uphill cycling in stifling heat and humidity, zero breeze, I was very close.
Today was a big day. We decided to do a 'downhill' bike tour of the mountains around Ubud - Mum and Dad did it when they were here. The tour drove us to a lovely restaurant at Penelokan, near Gunung Batur, one of Bali's highest volcanos. We had breakfast overlooking Danau (Lake) Batur, Bali's biggest. The air was crisp and fresh and the clouds would excite 'Gavin Morris with the weather'. And breakfast, again, was amazing. Big fan of breakfast.
Before we got on our bikes they took us to a coffee plantation, where coffee beans are fed to a Syphill (?) cat, they digest it, poop it out, and voila, Lawak coffee. Good shit.
We finally got on our bikes after about two hours. The path certainly was downhil, but too slow for anormous fun. Had to ride the brakes the whole way, no fun! We got a tour through a traditional Balinese compound, where multiple families live, farm and take care of the grandparents. The one we saw was filthy - chickens shitting everywhere, kids pissing everywhere, smoke, dirt and cobwebs all through the 'kitchen'. Cows and pigs (sapi and bab, Ibu Fittler) are kept very close the the houses, tied up in tiny pens covered in shit. The pig didn't even look that happy to be in shit. But, the people seemed happy enough. The kids were all smiling and the granny was happy to let us walk through. Much of their lives are based around religious festivals, preparing for months to make lavish offerings to the Gods.
We cycled through many villages and rice fields, all the time kids yelling 'Hello' and asking for high-fives - we succumbed to their cuteness.
Phill and I then chose to do the optional 10km uphill cycle, while the rest of the ground continued downhill. The scenery was very similar, but with the road on an incline...One man we passed said I was very strong. Represent. I was outpacing the Chinaman for a while, until the last uphill slog of about 1km, on a busy road with trucks and cars and mopeds. I though if I didn't faint I'd surely be hit by a vehicle. But we made it, to the cycle tour's restaurant where we were fed (after I recovered) a delicious Balinese banquet. Properly knackered by this time.
YESTERDAY
We arrived in Ubud and were promptly invited into someone's homestay, for 100,000Rp a night, about $15. It was a genuine Balinese compound, with bungalows kitted out for tourists (ie: a flush toilet, fan, and toilet paper...)
We went to Ubud's famed Monkey Forest Sanctuary, and I never realised how much I hate monkeys. As soon as we entered, about 50 monkeys came screaching down from above, bullying (a mild word) one adult monkey. We were right in the middle of it, in shorts and singlets, Phill in thongs, scared for our lives (me at least...Phill 'kept his shit together'...and...'promptly escorted me to safety'). We later saw the poor monkey, he had had the shit properly beaten out of him, bloody and half dead. The forest itself was lovely; dense, lush rainforest, rivers and temples. Shame about the monkeys though.
Ubud is a lovely town, with some nice art shops and designer clothing stores as well as they typical market stalls selling Balinese souvenirs. We passed on them all. It would be an easy town to spend money in - restaurants, bars, shops and cultural shows - shadow puppets and gamelan! But again we are on a budget...we happily came upon a gamelan crew practicing though. (That's right - crew.)
We found out that 'homestay' really means 'be woken up by children screaming at 6am'.
PS...after dinner, Phill fell in a hole. The roads have uncovered drains on either side. It was dark. And we had just had ice cream.

Friday February 5th. Sanur, Bali

Never underestimate the strength of a small Balinese woman. Phill and I got massages this afternoon - one hour, full body, for about $8 each. (Better value than Che for Beauty!). It was awesome, but we may now need massages to help recover from the massages.
We arrived in Bali last night, cleared customs (I'm now in the business of 'production'), and bartered a taxi driver down to 80,000 Rupiah for the 15 minute drive to our hotel in Sanur. The traffic, fumes and apparent lack of road rules were a shock to the system. What appears to be two lanes can become one, three or four. Cars drive in the middle of the road, scooters swerving between them, with any number of people hanging on.
Hotel Mentari was a haven in this chaos (thanks Timbo and Suebo), a lovely hotel despite being down a very dubious and dirty alleyway. The beach is 5 minutes walk, and there's breakfast included!
Our first day in Sanur, we walked south for about an hour. Then we turned around and headed north. Word of the day: 'transport?'. On the main tourist drag, at least every 50 metres, men would ask 'Hello, transport?'. Taxis lined the streets, not even sure if there are any non-taxi cars, only scooters, taxis and brave school kids on pushbikes. Most of the men would politely accept our 'no, thankyou', but one guy was persistent, following us down the streets and offering his air-conditioned taxi ('with leg room') for a tour of Bali's delights. Luckily we had the very plausible excuse of 'we're hungry, we're going now' to walk away with.
Market ladies...well, don't start me on market ladies. They would sell you their children if it got you in their store. But, we are on a budget for eight months and can't afford sarongs, necklaces or children.
Both Phill and I did make poor purchases though...hats. First stall we awy at the start of the markets. Mine doesn't fit and Phill's is gay and says 'Hard Rock Cafe Bali' - Bali doesn't even have a Hard Rock Cafe! But we've learnt our lesson...hopefully.
We are now sitting on the balcony at Hotel Mentari watching a storm that has been going since 3pm. Luckily we napped through most of the downpour and are now just enjoying the thunder and lightning. Sanur apparently doesn't have much of a nightlife, we will happily be in bed by 9. We're wild like that.