Darwin - Detoxes and Distractions.

My Darwin experience was different to my other stays in my various other stops. Arriving smelling like the outback at 7pm in the evening to a room about the size of a camper van didn’t help I suppose. I think what made Darwin different for me was that when I arrived I already had friends – I had planned to meet all of my KAT friends that night in the Youth Shack for one last hurrah. As a result, I was in and out of my hostel within an hour of arriving. I didn’t even get the names of the two people I’d spoken to in my room (later I found out they were Liam from Co. Down and, I’m taking a guess at, Dutch Monique). In most other places I had made friends with people in my hostel or in my room on the first day, but here in Darwin it wasn’t until my fifth day that I made an effort with my hostel buddies.

On my first night, like I said, I met the KAT gang at the Youth Shack for a tearful goodbye with Kaie, the Austrians and the Swiss. Myself, Amaya, Tom and Simon stayed out for an eventful late night, and I bumped into the lovely Brendan, one of the fabulous English I met in Broome. The next day, it was as if the tour was continuing when myself, Tom and Amaya piled into the car with our guide for the night, Simon, for a trip to the Mindle Beach Market.  We went out as a group again the next night and then, minus Amaya on the Saturday, myself and Tom helped Simon clean the car and trailer after our amazing trip. We thought after eight days of rolling swags every morning that we would fly them, turns out rolling nine swags between two of us in thirty degree heat was not as easy as rolling one at 6.30am when the sun is just up. We had fun that day, and minus falling down a little waterfall at Berry Spring into some rocks and hurting my ankle and bruising my legs, it was one of my funnest days in Darwin!

When Tom, Amaya and Simon departed on Sunday, I visited Brendan in the YHA, went to the Library, hung out a bit at the Waterfront and made friends with some lovely Irish girls (and one Irish boy).

The one thing that struck me about Darwin was the Irish population – it was full of them. I think, to get a proper view of Darwin and if I really like it or not, I need to go back, in the same way I need to go back to Adelaide. Maybe I didn’t warm to Darwin because I wanted a detox, and Darwin of all places is the last place you should plan a detox. Especially as an Irish Backpacker. 

Broometime

When I arrived at the airport in Broome, slightly tired after my last night in Adelaide I realised I had no contact number for my hostel, The Kimberly Klub, and no idea how to get to it. I saw a desk in the ‘Arrivals’ hall, which I learned was the same as the ‘Departures’ lounge,  that said ‘Shuttle Bus’ so I decided that was probably my safest bet. When I asked if the bus went to town, I was told it stopped in the centre at the Roebuck Hotel. The man at the desk then asked me where I was staying and scoffed at my wanting a taxi. His directions were ‘Out the gate, turn left, walk for ten minutes and it’s on the opposite side of the road when you come to a T-Junction’. His ten minutes was actually five. I’ve never been to an airport so close to a town. It was literally ten minutes from the centre, five minutes from the Kimberly Klub. A few days later I experienced the incoming and outgoing planes’ roar as they came in and out of town and soared low over the small town. It was surreal.

I arrived at the Kimberly Klub a little disorientated from the flight and the hour and a half time difference; checked into my room and quickly fell into a deep sleep. When I awoke, it was dark and I hadn’t changed the time on my phone (though I thought I had) so in my head I’d slept for about six hours and completely missed my first day in Broome. It turns out that by half past five the sun leaves Broome and it had actually only been about six o’ clock.

I got dressed, stumbled downstairs and realised that the only item of food I had to my name was a jar of Vegemite. I remembered then that the girl at the reception had told me that Woolies was only five minutes up the road. Two minutes up the pitch black road I realised that the notices about Broome not being safe after dark alone were not false and I legged it back to the KK and located the two friendliest faces in the bar – a blonde Dutch girl and a brunette named Julia from Switzerland. I asked them where I could get food and again they told me not to go anywhere alone. Then the Dutch girl said that they had dinner left over and that I could have that. I was more grateful for that vegetable curry than I had been for anything ever in my life.

After I finished, I went to join them in the bar. The Dutch girl left and myself and Julia had a beer and bonded over being left alone. That night we went out for a strange night which began with drinking a can in the car park (as with all YHA there is a strict no BYO policy so backpackers are forced to be inventive with places to drink cheaply). We then went to the windy Town Beach where we stayed for about an hour before nearly getting blown into the ocean. And so we piled into some guy’s camper; all millions of us and drove uncomfortably back to the KK.

The next day, myself and Julia adopted Jana, a German girl, and we went shopping and generally hung out together. My first trip to Cable Beach was with Jana and Scottish Lauren. It was the Beach you expect when you think of WA; deserted and beautiful with the odd naked person.

The night after my Cable Beach experience, I convinced an Aussie, Sniper, to bring myself and Jana, since we weren’t allowed walk alone and didn’t know the way anyway, to Murphy’s Irish Bar for Open Mic Night. We were late and missed all the bands, but had half an hour with the in-house Aboriginal band. Murphy’s (and actually Broome in general) was the only place so far in Australia that I’ve come across Australians and Aborigines hanging out together and socialising in the same places. I have to say I really liked it.

After that, my expected one and only night out in Broome, I spent my last expected actual day packing and hanging out in the KK. I had sent a bag to Darwin with my dresses and ‘nice’ clothes and kept all my ‘practical’ clothing for my tour to Darwin that was set to begin the next day, Thursday 12^th May.  I got a call, however, at 4pm on Wednesday 11^th May to say that my tour, that I’d booked  in March, had been somehow overbooked by one and that I was the only single traveller and therefore the only feasible person to make change tour dates (jeepers I felt special). So after the throwing around of many a possible arrangement, myself and Jen of Kimberley Adventure Tours settled that I would spend twelve more days in Broome and take the next tour from Broome with them – I was very generously compensated for the inconvenience (Thanks a mill KAT!) and am actually delighted I got to stay in one place a little longer than planned as I actually got to know and grew to love Broome.

The natural phenomenon of Staircase to the Moon took place on Wednesday 18^th and 19^th of May, another reason I’m grateful to KAT for messing up my tour dates is that I got to go to Town Beach and see it. We piled into two cars and trucked down to Town Beach. As we waited for the moon to show its face, we had a feeling we were missing something, that the moon was behind a tree on the other side of the beach, or that somehow it just wasn’t going to work. We were of course proven incorrect when the pinky orange moon peaking up over the horizon created exactly what it said on the tin – a staircase across the water to the moon. It was beautiful.  Broome is definitely, and rightly so, renowned for its natural phenomena – the beautiful sunsets at Cable Beach (I saw three) certainly rival any I’ve ever seen in the beauty stakes.

Looking back, and apart from go to the beach and attending the odd Wet T-shirt and Dance competition in Oasis, I actually didn’t do all that much in Broome. To be honest, I think that the fact that I stayed there sixteen days in total and actually had the chance to form (what I think were…) actual friendships is why I liked Broome so much!  I met some great Germans girls, some fabulous English and some amazing Aussies; some of these people I know I will see again, whether it’s on the East Coast of Oz, when they visit me in Ireland or I visit them in their native lands, I’m hopeful and looking forward to some serious shuffling at some amazing reunions! Oh how I miss you guys!

Adios Adelaide.

I arrived late on the first Thursday in May to Adelaide, and promptly got lost. I was tired after my three days on the Great Ocean Road see. Brenda came to my rescue and brought me to her cosy house on the Waterfront and made me feel right at home.

I have to be honest that Adelaide for me consisted of two (great, might I add) nights in JP O’Reilly’s and a very brief trip around the city!

It was a nice city, but I really didn’t get a proper feel for it as I only had one full day to explore and I didn’t do the city justice in this day of exploration.

Looks like I’ll just have to go back…

Melbourne Toast.

A word of advice, don’t fly Tiger Airways to Melbourne: From Avalon it takes a year to get to the city and the flights are at stupid o’clock. I arrived in my hostel in Melbourne, Collingwood Backpackers, at about 5am and, as was previously arranged, I spent my first night on the couch. This was to set the tone for my stay in Melbourne, which was nothing like any of my other experiences of the other places I’ve visited and this is mainly due to the Houseshare  hostel I stayed in. 

Collingwood Backpackers is not your average or normal hostel. There is no way you can compare it to a YHA or a standard hostel that has rules, because there really weren’t that many. In fact, right now the only rule I remember is that people didn’t smoke in the kitchen. And this may not have even been a rule but something people did out of courtesy. It’s a small hostel, with a kitchen that’s open 24hrs a day, extremely cheap wifi, and had the feel of a big house full of friends rather than a hostel.

I left Melbourne thinking I was going to go live in an Ashram and be a real-life hippy because of a great American girl, Arielle, who I met in my room on my first day. She brought me to the Hare Krishna kitchen that day and I ate the best curry I’d ever had (until my last day in Melbourne when I went back!) and a few days later, she brought me to Lentil as Anything, a pay what you think the meal is worth restaurant that was also veggie and gorgeous!

As well as finding my inner hippy, I found a little bit of home away from home by meeting Aoife and Paula from Athlone for a lovely day on a Roof in Melbourne; a day that continued for myself and Paula, and our new friend Leslie, from, as far as I can remember, Alabama, to a Burlesque club, Red Benny’s.

As well as dirty dancing and hippy living, I spent a day out in ST. Kilda, the backpacker hub of Melbourne. It was, as it promised, beautiful and eclectic and I really enjoyed it. St. Kilda wouldn’t be somewhere I myself would like to live, but I can see why so many people are drawn to it. 

My day in St. Kilda

I can’t really explain why I liked Melbourne so much, it wasn’t necessarily how it looked, it was more how it felt. As Paula said to me that day in Roof, the city has a heartbeat, and you can feel it.There's a really subltly nice atmosphere around the city that didn't feel too businessy or too hippy, just right for me.

I have to say, that Melbourne has been my favourite city so far in Australia and that I cannot wait to go back there…so much so I fly there on January fifth 2012!

Perth, the beginning and middle and turning point of my travels.

You'd think that because I've spent the bulk of my time here that it would be easy to verbalise how I feel about it. Well it's not.
So as I continue to try to write something about this city, my home away from home, I'll continue to post my journey leaving Perth out for the moment.
To Melbourne...

Bangkok: The Big Bang…The beginning and end of Southeast Asia.

Hmmm, where to start? 

I arrived in Bangkok for the first time on 13^th February 2011. I left it for the last time on 14^th March, the last of three trips to the city.

When I arrived I was tired, but not overly so, and overwhelmed, very much so. We were staying in China town, which happened as a result of Chinese whispers of a nice place to stay, whose name changed from one thing to another and as a result we ended up there.

I only had one night in Bangkok that first time, and we hit Khao San Road after a quick nap and a necessary shower. It was exactly how I had imagined as a twelve year old innocent little girl reading Alex Garland’s The Beach – dirty, busy and exciting. Apart from Khao San Road, I didn’t get a feel for the city until our third visit when we actually did some sightseeing. 

My second trip to the city came after the Paradise of Koh Tao and before the experience of Vietnam. We had more time this time. We went to the monstrous MBK shopping centre where I bought some Benefit that turned out to be fake. It was a fiver. I should have known. After an eventful night in the Khao San Inn, which included hearing some English boys abusing two Thai girls, and being confronted by the industry of prostitution on Khao San Road smack bang in the face, we jetted off to Hanoi early in the Morning of March 2^nd.

When we arrived back to Bangkok for our third and final visit, we knew we had to do some sightseeing and actually see some of the city that wasn’t Khao San Road or China Town. So we ventured to the Grand Palace, and grand it was. We went all around until we were bored, then we got the normal transport boat up and down the river for the afternoon; something I would recommend to anyone who ever thought about paying 400Baht for a tourist boat, as we paid a total of 13Baht each.  We experienced the sense of calm only present in a Bhuddist temple when we visited the Emerald Bhudda in the Grand Palace. It was the kind of peace that would make you think about all you believed in, all you didn’t believe, everything you’ve done in your life, things you will do, things you hope to do and nothing all at the same time. 

On our last day of our trip, we decided to pamper ourselves. So, with a total of €25 spent each, we got facials, massages, haircuts, manicures and fish pedicures. It was the sort of day that trips to Thailand have to include. Never at home would I dream of getting a facial, manicure and Fish Pedicure in one day. The fish were hilarious. Alice was off getting a Massage and Rach had gone for a stroll around our new favourite street, Rambuttri Road, when I put my feet into the tank of nibbling skin eaters. I squealed as only a big girl would. With one foot in for the first five minutes, I realised they weren’t going to eat my feet off so I put them both in and ‘relaxed’ to the ‘gentle’ vibration of creepy crawlies eating the dead skin off my heels, and from in between my toes. The result was well worth it though. My feet were baby soft even though I only spent 20 minutes in the tank – fifteen minutes of which I was on my own and five minutes of it I was accompanied by a South African who had been travelling in Asia for six months. They gave him all their love once he arrived, but they did a great job so I can’t really fault the little fishies. 

In general, Bangkok was an experience like no other. It will always be the first place in Asia on which I laid my feet. It will also be the only place, while riding in a Tuk Tuk from Khao San Road on my fist night, I turned to anyone and said, deadly seriously, ‘I don’t think I’ve ever seen so many Asians’. It’s true, but I’ve seen far more now, and the novelty has worn off. I don’t like Bangkok in the way I liked Hanoi, but at the same time, it’s a fascinating city. It has the mandatory divide between rich backpacker and poor native that is so obvious around Thailand especially; it also has a feel of being one of the first points in backpacker history. Maybe I only see it this way because of its iconic description in Garland’s The Beach, or maybe it’s because it was always somewhere that I had heard of other people visiting but never thought I would, nor did I dream how comfortably at home I would feel in this Backpacker Heaven/Hell. 

Vietnam: Hanoi, Halong Bay and Hazes

We arrived in Hanoi to a chill. Having come from Bangkok, and being blissfully unaware of the distance we were travelling, we were greeted by weather in the teens, when we'd been used to late to mid thirties, and a foggy misty haze when we were used to cloudless blue skies. And we were starving, and we only had ten dollars between us along with a couple of hundred Thai Baht (which of course was useless). So we arrived to Hanoi Backpackers in Ma Mai and were surprised by what we found; a modern, clean and friendly hostel where we could feel at home. Unfortunately we couldn't check in straight away and after an hour in the rec room, we decided to go for a walk, get some money and eat some food.

The money situation didn’t exactly help us with the cold. We realised that not even Alice, whose bank card seemed fearlessly able to deal with ‘high risk’ countries, could take out enough money to pay for our hostel (that didn’t take credit card) and eat and pay for a trip to Halong Bay in one day. So we took out two million dong a day (about €67) until we had paid our debts. And that my friend is all I will say about our financial woes.

Having arrived so early on that dreary Monday morning, we decided we had to do our Halong Bay cruise the next day. We had initially wanted to do the two night one, but due to the money issue (oops, I mentioned it) we realised we couldn’t possible pay for it before leaving on the Friday morning at disgusting O’clock in the morning as there was no ATM in Halong Bay (obviously). 

We boarded the Jolly Roger bright (ok not so bright) and early on the Tuesday. The night before we bumped into a girl called Sinéad at the ATM (whilst we were discussing what to do) and as it happened she and her travelling partner, Rachael, had gone to the same school as us; of course Rachael had Mammy for English too; only re-iterating our previous thoughts that the world is too small…or The Bower is too big!

So they were our friends the next day too on our Halong Bay cruise. It began strangely when we realised our guide was a tool, but as soon as we stopped listening to him we began enjoying ourselves. I suppose I hadn’t realised what exactly I was missing with the bad fog blocking our view, but apparently there are thousands of islands in the Bay; we actually only saw the ones directly in front of us.

After people jumped into the freezing water, and froze a bit, we went kayaking. We went to, I think it was called, Dragon’s Cave. It was interesting but I couldn’t understand our Israeli* guide very well so I actually learned nothing. Then we kayaked around the corner and into a floating village. It was at this point I began to slightly regret my choice of kayak buddy. I cannot for the life of me remember his name but he was a charming enough English boy who’d just come from a big mad trek in Nepal. I chose him because we were supposed to go Girl/Boy to a kayak for strength’s sake and he had no partner and neither did I. Simples. His idea of fun, however, was paddling up to an innocent looking boy on one of the flotillas and saying hello. This ‘innocent’ little boy, with what was actually a vicious dog, then grabbed on to the front of our kayak and would not let go. It seems this was the little boy’s idea of fun. He seemed practiced at it too. After that incident, I was not going to take direction from my private schooled friend. We had our qualms about the way I paddled etc. but in general it was an enjoyable two hours.   

During Lunch I was displaced from our table due to dietary requirements and put sitting beside a hungover American named Leo. As a table we talked about X factor, pop music and Leo’s inability to get any decent British pop in the states. Oh and we also spoke about his love of Cheryl Cole. It was during this interesting conversation that it came out that Leo had been on American Idol two years previous and had made it as far as the cut off point for the live shows. He was officially my favourite person on the boat. Later that night, we coaxed Leo Marlowe into an impromptu live show for the Athlonians up in our room. He was awesome. I can’t wait to meet him again when I get to Sydney, where he is now, bartending, and by his Facebook statuses, he’s loving it!

That night, I was the only one of us who seemed to have a thirst, and after a disastrously awful game of Kings, after the live show, and after the girls went to bed, I stayed up a bit with some new friends; notably Leo (obviously), Leo’s friend Katrina who was teaching English in Bangkok and Polly, who was off to Chiang Mai to Meditate with Monks. 

The next day, we woke up ridiculously early to a noise we didn’t recognise – an alarm through a speaker on the boat. Half the tour went on to the bug island, whose name I can’t remember, to stay in shacks and be bitten alive, and we headed back to Hanoi with the Athlone girls and a gang of others.

We spent the next day, Thursday, in Hanoi itself. We were delighted we only stayed one night on the cruise because we got to spend a good day strolling around the French/Asian city. We went to the prison, but apart from that we just looked around the city. The French influence was so obvious, we couldn’t believe. It was like Paris, but with heaps of Asians. The atmosphere and the feeling of the city was just the break we needed from the hustling bustling Khao San Road of Bangkok (more of that later).

I forget most places we ate in Hanoi. But the food was lovely. I do remember Pineapple on our last night though. We had, because I had suggested, left it until the last night because it was very expensive (90,000 dong for a meal).

Hanoi and Halong Bay were just a brief taster of what Vietnam had to offer. I will return some day for sure to go south to Ho Chi Min and experience the rest of the fascinating country with its paddy fields and women with triangular hats. 

*I’ve spelled this word incorrectly my whole live. English degree, what English degree?