Croc’ Hunting on the South Alligator & Yellow Water

You might think the last thing you’d want to be around is an estuarine (saltwater) crocodile – the largest and most dangerous crocodile in the world – yet we somehow found ourselves out on the water in a tinny, looking for them. As many adventures do, it all started in the bar…

Photo of estuarine saltwater crocodile in Australia

This is actually a photo on the wall of the bar. Scroll down for my (infinitely less impressive) pics.

In case you don’t know, I’ve spent the last three and a half months living and working at a remote Outback hotel in Kakadu National Park, in a place called “South Alligator”, which consists only of the aforementioned hotel. There’s a bar (with staff discount) so I’m happy here, not to mention a pool and spa (hot tub; Jacuzzi), tennis courts, all meals included, rec’ room with ping pong table, pool tables, books, movies, a 3.6 kilometre billabong walk and plenty of barbeques, bonfires and even the occasional “Latin American night” to keep me occupied. Oh, and no phone signal.

Standard hotel room at Aurora Kakadu Resort, South Alligator

Our home for the first two months. Photo by Sarah Froome (before we moved in, of course).

Anyway, Andy and Suzanne were behind the bar and we (me, Ruth, Seb and Azza) were on the other side of it, chatting to a couple from Devon who were touring the Territory in a camper.

Seb is a chef from Lancashire, but has somehow become more Territorian than half the locals. When asked why he travels, he’ll tell you “for the fish!” (in this case barramundi) and after travelling to some obscure places for that very reason, he finally found the place he was born to live: the Northern Territory. The day he found out he was being sponsored as an Australian resident, he went out and bought a boat.

The couple were getting filled in on all the things I’d learnt over the past weeks: that there are only two seasons here – Wet and Dry (unless you ask the bininj, in which case there are six – we moved from Wurrgeng to Gurrung into Gunumeleng), what it means to “go tropo”, that the NT is not a state, but a territory, that Darwin – its excuse for a capital – only got its first set of traffic lights in the last decade or so, and that anything goes here (at least as far as speeding, shooting and fighting are concerned…oh, and that Azza is from the “Beef Capital of ‘Straya”.

When the bar closed we got a carton (crate) of Great Northern and headed back to Beef Cap’s donga to watch Crocodile Dundee.

It’s funny, a lot of Brits wind up in Australia but (at least, before I met my wonderful Australian friends in Japan) I’d never been too fussed about the place. When I did come to plan this trip I was determined to see (at least once) the “real Australia”, by which I actually meant Mick “Crocodile” Dundee’s Australia. We flew to Darwin because it was cheapest from Bali, and we got jobs in Kakadu because it was the first offer we got…and now here we were, Azza talking us through all the Crocodile Dundee filming locations – Ubirr, Nourlangie, Gunlom…all just down the road, and I realised, we’re in it! We’re in the “real Australia”!

Photos on the donga wall – ex-girlfriends mostly, some from Azza’s ‘roo shooting days, some from his travels around Australia: pristine white, empty beaches at Great Keppel Island, Western Australia, Yamba, who knows where…

“You’ve never seen a croc’?” Seb asked, surprised for some reason.


“I’ll take you!” He checked the tides and it all looked good.

” – that’s true,” Azza said to himself in response to something Mick had said on the screen – something about how crocodiles don’t kill you at first – they hold on tight, drag you down to the bottom of the river and do a “death roll” until you drown yourself to death.

“I heard their jaw muscles are mostly for closing and it takes them ages to open their mouths again, so if they miss, you can just put a rock on them or something – ”

“They’re not gonna miss, mate.”

“If they wanna get you, they’ll get you.”

“They’re nature’s perfect predator, mate. They’ve been around since the dinosaurs.”

We drank into the early hours…

“Always do sober what you said you’d do drunk. That will teach you to keep your mouth shut.” – Ernest Hemingway

Hemingway would’ve been proud of Seb as we approached his donga early the next morning to find him already up and getting ready. Out front lay well-used barbeques, threadbare armchairs, eskies (ice boxes; coolers), scattered mud crab shells, Great Northern bottles…

We helped him unload rods, nets and other junk from the boat, he borrowed Azza’s ute (he’d soon get a nice little 4WD outfit of his own) and we headed down the road to “the South”. (The three major rivers in these parts – the East Alligator, South Alligator and West (you guessed it) Alligator – are known to locals simply as the East, the South and the West and are erroneously named anyway, since some idiot mistook the crocodiles for alligators and by the time Leichhardt got here to correct the mistake, it was too late – they’d already been mapped.)

Ute launching a boat on the South Alligator, Kakadu, NT, Australia

Backing Azza’s ute into the South Alligator River

“If you let go of my boat, I’ll fucking kill you!”

Down at the boat ramp. Ruth held the rope. “Whatever you do, don’t stand in the water,” said Seb, before wading in and jumping into the boat. (One of the classic traits of a true Territorian is the advising of others never to do something dangerous…and then doing it yourself on a regular basis. “Don’t stand in, or near, the water,” is a common one, often heard from fishermen/women standing knee deep in the East Alligator at Cahill’s Crossing. When a tourist or backpacker gets taken, they were a fool not to listen to the advise of the locals, but when it’s a local…well, let’s not talk about that.)

Launching tinny boat on the South Alligator River, Kakadu National Park, Northern Territory, Australia

“if you let go of my boat, I’ll fucking kill you!”

In all seriousness, a lot of people have died by crocodile attacks, even in the time we were at Kakadu, like this old guy who got taken from his boat and the occasional child or German tourist.

Seb launched the boat out with the tide (the Alligators are tidal rivers) then came back around for us.

Launching a tinny from a ute at South Alligator boat ramp, Kakadu National Park, Northern Territory, Australia

Seb launches the boat out and brings it back around.

“I really can’t stress this enough: once you get in the boat, stay the fuck down! If you go in out here, you’re not coming back out!” (It turns out Seb and Azza recently had a friend fall overboard, and while her survival does prove him wrong, you can understand why he didn’t want a repeat performance.)

“On land you can outrun them, but out here in the water, you’re fucked.”

Seb knows the South like the back of his hand (though he’s also the first to admit that the river can change from season to season, even day to day, as mud and sand bars drift and shift) and negotiated the river with skill, taking the meanders wide - as most of the water does.

On the tidal South Alligator River, Kakadu, NT, Australia

Blasting up the South!

“If we get caught up, don’t panic. Just remember, high tide’ll come, then we’ll come unstuck.” (More than once, staff at South Alligator have had to spend the night out on the river waiting for the morning tide.)

I sat up front, under the scorching sun, the wind blasting off the river. Schools of skipping mullet glanced across the surface in every direction in a bid to avoid the boat’s path.

The South Alligator River, Kakadu National Park, Northern Territory, Australia

“Ladies and gentlemen, please keep your arms and legs inside the vehicle at all times.”

As we glided over the ever-moving surface of the river, it seemed as though the water had two consistencies – one thin and translucent, bouncing the bright blue sky back up off its surface, and the other; thicker, muddier, that seemed to move more slowly, yet somehow in perfect harmony, beneath it. A trick of the light? An optical illusion perhaps? But it was beautiful, even if it wasn’t real.

Seb pointed out a jabiru bird (after which the nearby “town” is named) nesting in the trees.

“Pretty calm out today!” Seb shouted over the boom, boom, boom as the bottom of the boat smashed up and down on the waves.

We turned up Nourlangie Creek and then we saw them.

Crocodile in the wild in the South Alligator River, Kakadu National Park, NT, Australia

Our first wild crocodile!

Seb slowed, stopped the boat. Where I was sitting, the boat sank two feet into the water.

We sat in silence.

Looking for crocodiles on the South Alligator River, Kakadu National Park, Northern Territory, Australia

Sitting ducks: Ruth and Seb scan the water for croc’s.

At first they looked like logs (and vice versa) moving slowly but deliberately, the ridges of their eyes, nostrils, a row of fins along their spine and hard, scaled back above the surface, then you had a few seconds to take your photo, before the crocodile coolly, quickly slips under the water and disappears – then you don’t know where he is, and it’s time to get moving again.

“They can stay under for hours. You can’t see them, but they can see you. There are probably about 20 around this boat right now…”

Back on the South, we saw more than 15 crocodiles in the end (yes, I counted) – a couple of them over four metres long (“you can tell by the size of the head”) – and not one other sign of human existence, save the Kakadu Air scenic flight that once passed overhead.

At high-tide we turned around and headed back.

I jumped out and pulled in the boat, making sure I kept hold of the rope against the tide (or else it wouldn’t be just the croc’s trying to tear me apart)

“What a way to spend a morning!”

The Yellow Water Cruise

A few weeks later, Ruth managed to wangle us a free cruise on the Yellow Water Billabong (Ngurrungurrudjba), even further up the South Alligator River and here we saw even more crocodiles (not to mention a “Jesus bird” walking on water, a green tree snake moving in precise right-angles through the jim jim branches, jabirus, ibis, purple-breasted swamp-hens, herons, darters moving like black, winged snakes, magpie geese, sea eagles perched atop barren trees, shit loads of whistling ducks, water buffalo and even wild horses silhouetted against the blood-red sun).

Yellow Water boat cruise from Gagudju Lodge, Cooinda in Kakadu National Park

Ruth wangled us a free Yellow Water cruise!

Saltwater crocodile at Yellow Water, Kakadu National Park, Northern Territory, Australia

Crocodile beside our boat at Ngurrungurrudjba (Yellow Water)

Crocodile at Yellow Water billabong, Kakadu National Park, Outback Australia

Saltwater crocodile on Yellow Water billabong

Pink and white waterlillies at Yellow Water wetlands, Kakadu National Park in the Australian Outback

Native pink and white waterlilies

Because it was the sunset cruise, the crocodiles were all out on the banks, soaking up the last rays of warmth from the sun, mouths wide open, apparently to regulate their brain temperature, and we were able to get right up close to them.

Cold-blooded crocodiles warming up on the banks of the South Alligator River

The cold-blooded croc’s come out on the banks at sunset.

Crocodiles opening their mouths to regulate brain temperature.

They open their mouths to regulate their brain temperature.

(At no point was the water “yellow” as promised.)

Huge estuarine saltwater crocodile, basking in the sun at Yellow Water on the South Alligator River, Australia's Northern Territory

Another beast of a crocodile, basking in the last rays of the sun

Crocodile on banks of South Alligator River at sunset

Getting up close and personal with “nature’s perfect predator”

Categories: Australia, Northern Territory, Travel Stories | Tags: , , | Leave a comment

The Road to Jesus’ Backside Beach, East Timor

In war-ravaged East Timor there are hundreds of beautiful, sandy beaches just waiting to be re-discovered, but there’s one in particular that caught my attention. Worryingly, this isn’t the first time I’ve made a journey for a funny name.

Jesus' Backside Beach, Dili, East Timor

Jesus’ Backside Beach!

How to Get to Dili, East Timor?

At the time of writing the only regular flights to East Timor (or Timor-Leste) were from Bali and Darwin, plus the occasional flight to and from Singapore or Jakarta. The Bali flight, which we took, is a lot more regular and (usually) cheaper. Alternatively, you can come in overland from Kupang in West Timor (Indonesia) but you need to get all your visas sorted out in advance, which I sadly didn’t.

Arriving at Dili’s Nicolau Lobato International Airport, you’ll be swarmed by taxi drivers offering you a ride for as cheap as $5 per person, but walk to the main road and catch a mikrolet (shared taxi; you want the number 10) and it’s only 25c. (East Timor is on the US dollar.) I’ll never understand why most travellers opt for the taxi, or the $18 airport shuttle. Sure the mikrolets can get a little crowded, but if you’re not in East Timor to experience the local lifestyle and culture, what the hell are you here for?

Dili’s Colour-coded Mikrolets

The mikrolets are basically a bunch of kids with converted vans who took it upon themselves to become Dili’s (and East Timor’s) sole public transport system. There are currently 10 routes and each van is painted and numbered accordingly.

Route number Colour
01  Red
02  Dark green
03  Light green
04  Blue
05  Salmon pink
06  Brown/maroon
07  Purple
08  Grey
09 Blue (with yellow trim)
10  White/cream

A (Ridiculously) Brief History of East Timor

  • Back in the day (’60s and early ’70s) Portuguese Timor was a stop on the overland “hippie trail“.
  • 25th April 1974, Portugal saw a (carnation) revolution and effectively dropped its colonies.
  • Political parties formed in East Timor…
  • …but civil war was soon to follow.
  • Indonesia invaded, backed and supplied with weapons by the communist-fearing USA, UK and Australia.
  • East Timor spent the next 24 years fighting a guerrilla war for its independence…and losing. Hundreds of thousands died. Like Sri Lanka, this is a country that was getting fucked for decades, and only saw the end of it in the 2000s. Torture, murder and disappearances were common thanks to the secret police.
  • East Timor’s plight only caught the international media’s attention in ’91, when an independence activist was murdered and Indonesian police were caught on camera massacring protesters. (They admitted killing 19, then 50…actually it was more like 280.)
  • 1998. Indonesian president Suharto resigned and his successor, B. J. Habibie, gave East Timor a referendum.
  • Indonesian military forces and pro-Indonesian militia threatened, intimidated and terrorized East Timor into rejecting autonomy…
  • …yet a brave 78.5% of the East Timorese public voted, not for autonomy but for total independence.
  • On their way out, an Indonesian company destroyed all the infrastructure they could: roads and bridges, telephone lines and power stations, businesses, government buildings, homes. They sent tens of thousands running for the hills and even attacked the UN, forcing them to withdraw and leaving East Timor defenseless. This means no employment, no canneries, no breweries…Everything from the police force to the roads to the entire economy would have to be built from scratch.
  • East Timor only became a country in 2002.
  • NGOs and aid workers flooded in.
  • Trouble still flares up every few years.
  • The UN only withdrew again on New Year’s Eve, 2012.

If you’re interested, check out the Resistance Museum and the Chega! exhibition in Dili.

Nowadays, East Timor only gets around 1500 tourists a year, which works out to around four a day. I’m not sure how they work out who’s a “tourist”, but there was only one other whitey (non-Timorese/Indonesian-looking guy) on the plane, so the shit checks out.

Where to Stay in Dili?

The accommodation situation in East Timor is ridiculous. (As is pricing generally.) The oxymoronic East Timor Backpackers offers dorm beds for $12 and doubles for $25, and that’s probably the cheapest accommodation you’ll find in the whole of East Timor. These days it’s packed almost every night and is in desperate need of some competition.

If heading for the Backpackers’, and unless you speak Tetun, ask for “Mandarin“, which I gather is the area of town, and jump off just after “Tiger Fuel” and just before the hideous clock-tower.

Tiger Fuel used to be a good place for food but since changing ownership is only good for expensive, disgusting pizzas. However, ask at the hostel and they’ll direct you to where you can get Indian, Thai and so on nearby. There’s also a bar at the hostel, where they can prepare various rice dishes for $1-3, and a whole-in-the-wall down the road where you can split a $5 rotisserie chicken.

For a long time, East Timor has seen only NGO and aid workers, who aren’t paying for their own accommodation and therefore couldn’t give a crap what they’re charged. This has created a huge disparity between the prices of goods and services (such as accommodation) and what the local people (a huge percentage of whom are still unemployed and/or living on aid) can afford to pay. There’s no way, with the East Timorese economy in its current state, and without aid, that the people could afford to buy food at the outrageous prices in their own supermarkets.

Oh and to make matters worse, the average mum has gone and had seven or eight kids.

If you can, stay with friends, or locals, or just rock up with a few dollars and see what happens. East Timor will need to get budget-traveller-friendly, fast (not to mention sorting out the rest of its economy) if it’s going to stay afloat once the NGO and aid money dries up.

What to Do in Dili?

Not much. No infrastructure means no commercial tourist attractions. I actually love places like this!

Dili street art in East Timor

Street art in Dili

East Timor has so many beautiful, untouched beaches, many of which could rival the best in South East Asia. There is also a series of coral reefs that run along the North coast of the island, often within swimming distance, placing diving and snorkelling at the forefront of East Timor’s diaper-clad tourism industry.

Dili is such a small city, and with such little commerce and activity, that it has to be one of the quietest, most tranquil capitals in the world. A very odd place.

Even the city centre has many peaceful, unmolested stretches of beach, where Timorese kids play football silhouetted against the sunset. Dili’s coastline stretches approximately 15 km, from the airport to the Cristo Rei statue at Cape Fatucama.

Starting at the western end, there is a row of stalls where you can eat fresh fish or chicken, local style, on the beach. We were having trouble finding them so I mimed a chicken and a fish and the universal motion for “eating” to the locals (who, to be fair, have had quite a few languages to learn – Tetun, Portuguese, Bahasa Indonesia and one or more of 20+ local dialects – without having to worry about English too). We got two fish and portions of rice wrapped and cooked in banana leaves for only $1.50 each.

Walking along the seafront, you won’t find a lot of business, but there are one or two lonely bars, such as Castaway, popular with the expats, but with Western prices to match.

What you will find are shitloads of foreign embassies, and you can’t help but think that maybe these countries have taken the piss just a little when they decided to buy up huge lots of prime, central, beachfront property that could have been used for something much more appropriate and beneficial to Dili’s citizens. Oh well.

Wave breaker seawall at Dili harbour, East Timor

The peaceful, picturesque port of Dili

Walking around Dili Harbour you’ll pass the Farol lighthouse and the sleepy but still operational port, which feels like a trip back in time. Centuries-old banyan trees grow amidst a very recently renovated waterfront esplanade. This area is misleadingly well kept (a security guard told me to get off the grass) while the rest of the city remains a complete dump.

Dili waterfront monument to East Timor's independence

A monument on Dili’s waterfront commemorates the shockingly recent, 26-year struggle for independence.

Banyan tree in Dili, East Timor

Age-old banyan trees grow along Dili’s waterfront…and all over East Timor, actually.

There are also a few fancy hotels. We went into one for advice on internet access and were greeted by a lavish welcome party intended for the arrival of the Portuguese President (or maybe it was Prime Minister), whose visit coincided, almost to the minute, with ours. The troupe of Fataluku dancers, poised to serenade us, gave me a strange look when the noticed my torn jeans, broken flipflop and bleeding foot. It turned out that this was a conference of the Community of Portuguese Language Countries. They closed the main road all the way from the airport to Area Branca (exactly the way we were walking) so we continued to run into the delegates of various Portuguese-speaking nations (as well as their security convoys and police escorts) throughout the course of the day, as they went about their business, stopped for lunch, saw the (carefully chosen) sights and whatnot. Apparently the President of Brazil had better things to do, so sent his Minister of Foreign Relations instead.

Welcome party for Portuguese President or Prime Minister for Community of Portuguese Language Countries conference, Dili, East Timor

This welcome party was expecting the President (or Prime Minister) of Portugal…They got us instead.

“Oh my God, it’s Equatorial Guinea!” I yelled, a little too loud. Their faces betrayed pride…and shock, that someone had actually heard of their country.

We stopped in Lita supermarket – one of only a handful in the capital – where food shortages are commonplace and the selection of beers tells you more about the country’s foreign relations than anything else: Sagres, Bintang, Heineken and of course Tiger, the quintessential Asian lager. No Timorese beer as of yet.

We ate our tinned fish and bread on the beach and then met a fellow traveller, named Giora, as we both attempted to put our rubbish in the otherwise empty public bins. Bins are a great place to meet other foreigners, we realised, as we’re the only ones here who use them. Giora was also staying at the Backpackers’ and had quite a story of his own.

Considerably further along, you’ll come to Area Branca, a beautiful beach area, once firmly planted on the hippy trail and sure to be the centre of backpacker tourism in East Timor whenever it picks up again. There are several plastic-chair bars and “restaurants” – such as the popular favourite, Caz Bar – where you can get a can of beer or a fresh, chilled coconut for a dollar.

Area Branca with beach chairs and coconut

Stop for a cool, refreshing beer or a fresh coconut at Area Branca beach.

After Area Branca the road is bare and exposed as it winds its way to Cape Fatucama.

Sandy beach in East Timor near Cape Fatucama

Everywhere you look in East Timor there are beautiful, sandy, empty beaches.

Rounding one such bend, we caught out first sight of Jesus, looking out to sea…towards Jakarta.

The Cristo Rei Jesus Statue

The Cristo Rei (Christ the King) statue is reminiscent of the much larger and infinitely better known Cristo Redentor (Christ the Redeemer) that stands over Rio de Janeiro in Brazil. (There’s also a Cristo Rei in Lisbon, Portugal.) In many ways, Dili and the landscape of East Timor is not dissimilar to that of Rio. Perhaps it was typical of the Portuguese, when scouting locations for their future cities, to choose those that already came with heavy natural fortifications.

The climb to the Jesus statue is made up of 500-ish steps and lined with a series of shrine-like grottoes that tell the story of Christ’s life, death and resurrection, including such important moments as “Jesus falls first time”, “Jesus falls second time” and my personal favourite, “Jesus falls third time”.

Five hundred steps to Cristo Rei Jesus statue, Dili, East Timor

The 500-ish steps to Cristo Rei

I practically flew up the steps, shirtless in the sun’s heat…and quickly became the subject of much laughter from groups of locals, who insisted on having their photo taken with the pasty, half-naked white guy and his infinitely more attractive companion.

It was in a similar state that we ran into Darran and Olivier, who we’d met at the Backpackers’.

Cristo Rei at Cape Fatucama, Dili, East Timor


At the top you become aware of Jesus’ epic proportions and the views of Him, Cristo Rei Beach and the surrounding landscape are incredible - the best we saw in East Timor – the green mountains folding like dog’s paws into the blue slate ocean.

Cristo Rei Beach, Dili, East Timor

Cristo Rei Beach…or as I like to call it, Jesus’ Frontside Beach

We sat perched on a dusty, Algarvesque outcrop, taking in the view, but this wasn’t exactly what I’d come for. Rumour has it that behind the Jesus statue is another, often empty beach that due to its unfortunate positioning has been coined Jesus’ Backside Beach.

View of East Timor from Cape Fatucama, Dili

The view from Cape Fatucama, East Timor

Sure enough, back down the main steps there’s another path. It’s really not the stuff of secrets and rumours at all.

Jesus' backside from beach, Dili, East Timor

Jesus’ backside, as seen from down on the beach

Jesus’ Backside Beach

As we descended this second trail, Jesus re-emerged on his hilltop and as the sun set it passed behind him and plunged us into some much appreciated shade. A local couple with motorbike gear idly leant and watched as a giant, Jesus-shaped shadow enveloped the beach below, until it had dissipated completely.

Local East Timorese couple at Jesus' Backside Beach, Cape Fatucama

A local couple watch the sun set over Jesus’ Backside Beach

Jesus' backside close up silhouetted at sunset

Zooming in on Jesus’ backside

We took photos of the Messiah’s backside, then rushed down to catch the last rays of the sun. Though devoid of visitors and covered in white-gold sand, like all beaches in East Timor, it could’ve used a good clean up.

Jesus' Backside Beach, Cape Fatucama, East Timor

Down on Jesus’ Backside Beach

While we hadn’t managed to find a snorkel for sale anywhere in Timor (no shops; there’s a business idea for you) and we’re not the sort to fork out for a diving tour, we had managed to procure and adapt a child’s pair of goggles (don’t ask) and dove in. The water was too shallow, but it was cool yet warm, blue yet clear. Though far from being East Timor’s finest, most-swimmable, snorklable beach, it was the perfect example of what is sat waiting all over the country.

Swimming in sea at Jesus' Backside Beach, Dili, East Timor

The warm blue water; too shallow to snorkel, perfect for paddling.

Walking back along the winding Cape Fatucama road, rose-red sunset lingering on our right, we spotted Darran and Olivier and joined them for a beer at Caz Bar (or the equally good bar next to it – it’s difficult to tell which one you’re ordering from when you’re sat on the beach). These were two of the most insightful people I’ve met on my travels and it’s always a joy to chat with guys like that. (Call me a travel snob, but I often find that hard to reach or seldom visited places separate the most interesting travellers from the general mob.)

We found a place serving food and more beer and also got talking to a local Timorese guy who’d lived and worked as a chef in Oxford for nine years. It turned out he lived almost opposite the Backpackers’ (which we realised was about to lock its gates any minute now) and he offered to give us a lift. On the way, we had to laugh when he told us that the waterfront parks, clock-tower and so on had only been renovated a couple of days ago, for the Portuguese President’s visit.

Back at the hostel, he refused to take any money. The caretaker was just walking away from the locked gates as we arrived and had to open them again.

We said goodnight to Darran and Olivier and then ran into and got plastered with Stuart and Neil

Categories: Asia, East Timor, South East Asia, Travel Stories | Tags: | 2 Comments

Kawah Ijen Volcano, Crater Lake & Blue Fire, Java

Despite travelling Mexico, Central America and so on, I’d somehow never actually set foot on a volcano, let alone climbed one. So, not missing out this time, I steered my course for Java, to hike Kawah Ijen by night and descend down, through thick sulphurous gases, to the beautiful turquoise crater lake and mysterious “blue fire” within.

Looking into Kawah Ijen volcano crater lake in Java, Indonesia

Staring over the rim into the volcano’s crater

Getting to Kawah Ijen

Java is a hotbed of hundreds of volcanos – Semeru, Bromo, Merapi…to name a few - but the real jewel in the crown is to be found in the naturally beautiful and sparsely populated Ijen Plateau, which can be reached from either Bondowoso to the east or Banyuwangi to the west.

What I didn’t know before I arrived is that Java is the most populous island on earth! Expecting natural beauty, I was confronted instead with a string of “megacities” - home to way more rats, cockroaches and people than I cared to make acquaintance with. The road network is not equipped to handle anywhere near the volume of traffic it does and, as a result, travel on the island is unbearably slow. After 10 days on stifling buses, amidst stand-still traffic, dust, pollution and general greyness, I can say that Ijen is - for me, at least – by far the most impressive thing in Java. Of course everyone has a different experience while travelling, but most people we met on Java were trying to get out again. My advice? Rent a scooter on Bali and take the ferry over to Ketapang (Banyuwangi).

Arriving after dark at what turned out to be Banyuwangi’s Karangente bus terminal (on Jalan Brawijaya) (careful, there are at least two more major bus stations in Banyuwangi: Sri Tanjung and Ketapang), we walked to a place called Hotel Baru on Jalan MT Haryono, but you shouldn’t need to know that as it’s a shithole and if you read this, you’ll be able to do Ijen by yourself.

There’s no guaranteed way to get to Ijen by public transport, so it’s scooter or tour, I’m afraid. We booked a guide and driver through the hotel for 600,000 rupiah (£15 each for two), but you don’t actually need either. With a scooter, you can get all the way up to Ijen and, once there, you can just follow everyone else.

If you do fancy a guide though, Nizar was actually really good. Feel free to contact him directly and I’m sure he’s got a friend who’d drive you for less than 150,000.

The guide we were originally set up with told us we weren’t allowed to go down into the crater and that he wouldn’t take us down (thus, rendering him completely useless). His English was bad (because Indonesians have to learn Bahasa Indonesia as well as their local language – in this case Javanese – the level of English is noticeably poorer here than anywhere else I’ve been on this trip so far), yet he was confident and loud and kept telling us to “listen!” as though we were at fault for not being able to understand. I hate tours. I wasn’t looking forward to this at all.

We were due to set off after midnight, so decided to get a couple of hours’ sleep. Unfortunately a centipede had had the misfortune to die in our room and a swarm of ants were in the process of engulfing him and carrying him off into the bathroom at speed. The sheets were dark with sweat stains, a wet, moldy plastic bag in the bathroom made it clear no-one had even been in to check the room since the last guests, let alone clean it. A weak fan didn’t reach the bed and there was no shower (unless you want to wash yourself with the same filth-brown bucket that you use to flush the toilet).

In the early hours, when we went to meet our guide, we got our first piece of good luck. He couldn’t take us. He had another, more lucrative group and had appointed Nizar to take care of us. He said they didn’t want to share a vehicle (in other words, he wanted to get as much money out of us tourists as possible) but assured us we’d “meet there” and “go up together” (more bullshit).

We hit it off with Nizar from the beginning and the three of us, plus our trusty driver, set off into the night, first for supplies (water, snacks, cigarettes for the sulphur miners) then up an empty winding road, perfectly signposted at every turn for “Kawah Ijen”, hence why I say you’d have no trouble doing it by scooter, several of which actually out-performed the 4WD on these mountain roads. You’ll pass through an arch and the road thins out considerably, rising and falling in the cold mountain air, and eventually coming to the car park at Pos Paltuding.

It was freezing cold as we waited for the PHKA post to open at 2.30 am. Ijen (especially the night hike) has only appeared on the tourist circuit in the last few years, but due to how bloody amazing it is, there were a lot of other travellers about. There are public toilets, but there’s a charge to use the lights. Luckily I have no issues pissing in the dark…though the girl who followed me in may have had a few. Mercifully, they actually opened it at two, at which point you sign in and pay 15,000 rupiah per person. (If doing it without a guide, you can skip this – I know I would – but bear in mind that no-one would know if you fell to your death.) You have to pay considerably more if you have a camera. Twat-guide insisted we’d have to pay this, but luckily Nizar checked and phones don’t count. Digital cameras do. Either way, I’d just say you don’t have one.

What to Bring?

  • Torch
  • Warm layers
  • Scarf, mask or spare t-shirt
  • Drinking water
  • Snacks
  • Gloves, if you have them
  • Cigarettes for the miners
  • Camera
Scarf for sulphuric gases at Kawah Ijen, Java, Indonesia

Remember to bring a scarf and soak it with water.

Climbing Kawah Ijen by Night

In pitch blackness, just the light of the head torches (which Nizar kindly lent us) to guide us, hands shoved in pockets against the bitter cold, we started up a gravelly path. It reminded me of my recent night hike up Adam’s Peak in Sri Lanka, only much colder. The incline was gradual at first, but soon we were working our hams and warming up as it got steeper and steeper. Nizar was great, considerately offering to stop whenever he thought we might need it. Not that we did.

The stars were overwhelming! All the constellations were there in plain sight and the curve of the milky way spread across the crisp night sky.

Soon the sheltered path opened out into exposed mountainside and we were only vaguely aware of the steep drop and the great void beside us. Here the surface – now very steep – became soft and slippery with the layers of volcanic ash. The silhouettes of Gunung Raung and another smaller peak were visible through the darkness. Merapi lay somewhere behind us, not to be confused with its more famous namesake in central Java. (“Merapi” means volcano in Javanese and Bahasa Indonesia so, as you can imagine, there are quite a few Gunung Merapis in these parts.)

We reached the sulphur weighing station, where several baskets were already waiting in the faint, misty twilight. We stopped here to rest until we got cold again, then set off on the last stretch, up to and along the crater rim. The crater! My first volcano! We couldn’t make it out in the darkness, couldn’t get perspective. I just can’t describe such a surreal feeling. I had never been in a landscape like it.

Kawah Ijen volcano crater rim in Java, Indonesia

Walking along the crater rim at first light

“I just can’t imagine it!” said Ruth.

Descending into the Crater

We began our speedy descent into the crater, into pure darkness, stepping on loose rocks and gravel, slick with ash and sulphur dust.

Visitors are prohibited going down on crater dangerous sign at Kawah Ijen volcano, Java, Indonesia

Many people, including guides, refuse to descend into the crater.

Soon the blue flames, which had been a distant flicker, were burning and smouldering right in front of us – some of them reaching up to five metres in height.

Sulphuric blue fire at Kawah Ijen volcano crater, Java, Indonesia

“Blue fire” from ignited sulphuric gas. The blue flames can reach up to five metres high!

Noxious gases blew in sheets across our path and we donned our scarves. Nizar used his expert knowledge to time photographs, reading the smoke patterns and the wind and yelling “smoke’s coming!” just in time for us to shelter behind the rocks and watch all the other parties choking and spluttering.

Resemblance to Raziel from Legacy of Kain Soul Reaver games

Anybody else see a resemblance to Raziel from the Legacy of Kain: Soul Reaver games?

The sulphur smells strong, gets into your chest and throat, burning and causing shortness of breath, but the best thing to do is stay calm and breathe normally, he said. If in doubt, just look at the sulphur miners, who were already at work among us, completely indifferent to it, some even smoking cigarettes amidst the smoke!

He told us this was one of only two places in the world (the other being Iceland) where you can see these blue flames, which are caused by the igniting of sulphurous gases as they emerge from the volcanic vent. They are constantly burning, but just can’t be seen by day.

We made our way, past patterns of liquid sulphur frozen into the ground, to the edge of the acid lake. Still dark, we couldn’t yet make out its size, but we cold see its turquoise colour and bubbling, steaming surface and knew better than to strip off and go for a swim.

Sulphuric acidic turquoise crater lake at Kawah Ijen volcano, Java, Indonesia

Standing at the edge of Ijen’s highly acidic crater lake

We smelt the sulphur and felt its warmth with our hands - fresh out the earth. Many of the miners, whose fathers and grandfathers had also been miners, have started to turn their hands to carving handicrafts and souvenirs out of the sulphur, which I imagine is a more profitable profession.

We climbed back up the steep loose rocks, amongst queues of people, Nizar in a hurry to get us there in time for the sunrise.

Reaching the top, I felt a shudder as I heard my name. It was twat-guide, bunkered down in a little cave. “Stay with us,” he said. “You have plenty of time until the sunrise.”

Nizar and I looked at each other dubiously. Though I’m anything but a morning person, I’ve seen enough sunrises to know how quickly they come up once it’s light. I was going to kill this fucker if he made us miss it. We waited a few minutes, but still no sign of his group, who’d had to go down into the crater alone.

“You know what,” I said. “I think we’re going to make a move. I just don’t want to miss it.”

“You won’t miss it.”

“Better safe than sorry,” and we got going, marching quickly along the crater rim as the light began to give everything shape and perspective and a whole new sense of awesomeness. Huge channels ran across our path where lava had not so long ago cut through. Now for the first time we saw the turquoise lake below in all its glory, a square kilometre in size!

Kawah Ijen volcano and turquoise crater lake at dawn

Kawah Ijen in all its glory at dawn

Sunrise at Kawah Ijen volcano crater lake, Java, Indonesia

“What a way to spend a morning!”

Kawah Ijen crater lake through dead trees, Java, Indonesia

A French guy fell to his death trying to get this photo.

We made it to the best spot just in time for the sunrise. (There’s no way the others made it.) The sun cast a deep red glow over the scene, turned the sky pink and brought out the deepest turquoise in the lake. Clouds hung all around us, the view rivaling those from our recent trip to San Marino, and dotted with the occasional cones of nearby neighboring volcanoes.

Sunrise from Kawah Ijen volcano, Indonesia

Catching the sunrise from Ijen

At Kawah Ijen volcano crater with guide for sunrise

With out guide, Nizar, at the summit for sunrise

Kawah Ijen crater rim and wall at sunrise in Java

End of the road: the crater rim and wall at sunrise

Girl at Kawah Ijen looking into volcanic crater lake

Ruth’s morning view

Shadow at Kawah Ijen volcano crater in fog

My shadow cast across the crater at sunrise

Sulphurous gas vent at Kawah Ijen volcano crater, Java, Indonesia

Thick sulphurous gas streams from the volcano’s vent.

Crater rim clouds and volcanoes

Walking the cracked crater rim amongst clouds and volcanoes

The climb down was harder than the way up. Our legs were exhausted but our sense of awe at what we’d seen – and the beautiful landscape that was continuing to unveil itself to us now by the light of day – kept our spirits high.

Gunung Merapi volcano from Kawah Ijen hike, Java, Indonesia

Even the walk down was beautiful.

Back at the sulphur weighing station, the miners were busy trading in their hard-earned sulphur for cash. We’d passed many of them on the road. These guys get up at two in the morning, dig out the sulphur from the crater floor, amidst the noxious gases, carry 70, 80 kilos of it on their shoulder, back up the steep, slippery track (a round trip of three hours) two or three times a day, and earn almost nothing for it. The bone structure of their backs and shoulders are clearly warped (though it has to be said that the exercise keeps them relatively fit and healthy). We tried to lift a load that had just been brought up and literally couldn’t. It weighed in at 96 kilos! And the little guy who brought it up! I gave him the whole pack cigarettes we’d bought.

If you’re interested, some of these guys were featured on the BBC’s Human Planet series.

On the drive back, Ruth and Nizar soon started to nod off to sleep. I watched at one point as Nizar dozed off and fell onto our driver, causing us to almost veer off the road. He woke abruptly to find me in hysterics in the backseat.

Back at the hotel we ate breakfast and slept…or tried to: twat-guide was banging on the door trying to get our Facebook details. When we didn’t answer, him and and his friend from the hotel sat right outside chatting. I went out bleary-eyed and told them to fuck off.

Then we did sleep.

Then we got the hell out of Java.

Categories: Asia, Indonesia, South East Asia, Travel Stories | Tags: | 2 Comments

Renting a Scooter & Touring Bali, Indonesia

People often talk about “Bali” like it’s just one place – one town. Actually, while Bali is a small island (relative to, say, Java) it’s not that small. There’s actually tons of different towns, villages and even a city, all separated by mountains, lakes and countryside, plus loads to see and do, with each coast and region offering a completely unique experience.

Sunset at Kuta Beach, Bali, Indonesia

Sunset on Kuta Beach

My Bali Highlights

After rambling around Bali for a few weeks, here are my unmissables:

  • Throw yourself into hedonistic Kuta Beach, if only for a night!
  • Get naked on Bukit’s west coast, where anything goes!
  • Rent a scooter and take in Pura Ulun Danu BratanGunung Batur and more rice terraces than you can shake a stick at.
  • Get your Eat Pray Love on in Ubud.
  • Take the fast-boat to the Gili Islands for the paradise all the backpackers are talking about.
  • If you have time, take the ferry to Java for a night climb of Kawah Ijen.
Pura Ulun Danu Bratan water temple on lake near Bedugul, Bali, Indonesia

Pura Ulun Danu Bratan water temple on Lake Bratan, near Bedugul

Renting Motorbikes in Bali

With mass tourism effectively killing the bemo (shared taxi) industry on Bali (it’s been practically impossible for some time now to get out of Kuta or any other tourist area by bemo…except on market days, if you’re in the right place at the right time) and with scooters for rent just about everywhere for only 50,000 rupiah (£2.50) per day (40,000 if you rent for a few days) renting a scooter is the obvious, most cost-effective choice of transport for the budget traveller, and affords infinitely more freedom. The wind in your helmet, riding amongst a convoy of fellow travellers: that’s what travelling Bali is all about!

Lake Batur by rented motorcycle in Bali, Indonesia

Stopping to pose in front of Lake Batur

We rented from Beneyasa Beach Inn I, and they didn’t even ask for anything as a deposit. Apparently they tried the scooter rental business in Java too, but for some reason all the bikes got stolen…

Bali sunset by rental scooter

Riding Bali’s back-roads

Where to Go in…

…South Bali

Southern Bali, particularly Denpasar and the bottleneck around Kuta suffers from serious traffic as a result of mass tourism. If you’re going to “Bali”, you’re probably going here.

Pool tables at Tubes bar, Poppies Lane 2, Kuta Beach, Bali, Indonesia

Playing pool in Tubes bar, down Poppies Lane II, Kuta Beach

  • Kuta Beach – one of Bali’s longest-running and biggest tourist draws – it’s one of those places you just have to experience at least once. Other than clubbing, the main excuse for a tourist attraction is the Ground Zero Monument – a memorial to the Bali bombings of 2002, which destroyed Sari club and Paddy’s Pub and killed over 200 people. A lot of people hate Kuta, but if you like getting drunk abroad, it’s for you, and if you stay in the right place, away from the main strip (Jalan Legian), it can actually be quite pleasant. My tip is to do a lot of your pre-gaming in bars like Tubes and Alleycats down Poppie’s Lanes I and II before hitting the main drag, where drinks will cost you a fortune. When you do hit the main drag, Sky Garden is the place to be, with a roof-top bar, drinks deals and too many floors to remember. Oh, and watch out for drunk Australians on scooters!
  • Legian, the next beach up, is quieter, cheaper and still retains some of the hippy feel that put this region of Bali on the travellers’ map back in the 60s and 70s.
  • Seminyak, the next beach up again, is more sophisticated (and therefore expensive). Expect many a trendy wine bar.
  • Canggu (pronounced “changgu”) is further north again and the next in line for mass development. Many expats and surfers have already moved in to stay, taking advantage of the relatively low prices and close proximity to the Kuta-Legian-Seminyak area. This is by far the quietest and most relaxed of the four…if that’s your thing.
  • Sanur, on the east coast, is a more relaxed alternative to the Kuta area, supposedly ideal for couples and older travellers.
  • Denpasar is the capital city of Bali but has more in common with Java. It is where all the locals live, has almost nothing to draw foreign visitors (besides genuinely cheap shops) and is a world apart from the beaches.
  • Ngurah Rai Airport, though officially labelled “Denpasar”, is actually so close to Kuta that you’ll watch the planes land from the beach and could walk it if you didn’t have a bag.
Ground Zero Monument Bali bombings memorial in Kuta Beach, Bali, Indonesia

The Ground Zero Monument – a memorial to all who died in the Bali bombings on 12th October, 2002

Bali bombings ground zero car park sign at Sari club lot, Kuta Beach, Indonesia

The “Ground Zero” car park: once Sari club, now an empty lot.

Balinese offerings in Kuta Beach, Bali, Indonesia

Balinese offerings on the streets of Kuta

Surfing fake surf board at Tubes bar in Kuta Beach, Bali, Indonesia

Surfing my way into Tubes bar

Where to Stay in Kuta?

  • Beneyasa Beach Inn I (not to be confused with its shittier sister, Beneyasa Beach Inn II) has a pool, free breakfast, motorbike rental, great location and is only 175,000 (£8.75) per night for a basic ensuite double with balcony.
  • Suka Beach Inn, just a few doors further down, has better, cleaner rooms, more of a choice for breakfast and lovely Balinese architecture for only 135,000 (£6.75)! Downsides are no top-sheet or towels and the pool layout’s not as good for some reason.
Beneyasa Beach Inn I hotel accommodation in Kuta, Bali, Indonesia

Our accommodation in Kuta for only £4.37 per person per night! Why are you not here?

…The Bukit Peninsula

South of the bottleneck is the Bukit Peninsula. On its east coast is the high-end resort area of Nusa Dua, now connected to the mainland (and airport) by a 220 million (US) dollar causeway toll road. However, the oft-forgotten west coast remains relatively undeveloped and home to several hippy-come-surfer beaches, where anything goes.

Balangan Beach, Bukit Peninsula, Bali, Indonesia

Balangan Beach on the Bukit Peninsula’s less travelled, west coast

  • Jimbaran Bay, on your way down through the ‘neck, has a bunch of seafront warung (local Indonesian restaurants) where you can buy fresh seafood by weight and eat it as you watch the sun go down.
  • Balangan Beach is probably my favourite. It has the bluest water and whitest sand I’ve seen in a long time, but sadly is quite narrow as far as beaches go. It’s great for surfing, and has plenty of rustic accommodation, bars and restaurants, but not-so-great for swimming – the steep shelf and massive wave will smash you up good. Once on the peninsula, take the Ulu Watu road then turn right at the turn-off for “Cenggiling” and follow the dirt road as far as it goes (about seven kilometres). It’s 2000 for motorbike parking and entry (6 am ’til 7 pm) but just ride straight past, turn left at the beach and this will take you along the backs of the beach accommodations. Just pick one.
  • Bingin is made up of beaches, cliffs and the network of narrow paths and passages that run thereabouts. Accommodation prices can range anywhere from the budget to the ridiculous, just next door to one another. (I recommend booking Leggie’s as I was gutted they were full when we arrived.) From the Ulu Watu road, take a right at Pecatu and right again when you see the accommodation signs. It’s supposed to be 5000 to park, but we didn’t have to pay.
  • Padang Padang Beach is a spectacularly beautiful spot between Bingin and Ulu Watu. It makes a great day-trip or rest-stop, but not a good place to stay overnight.
  • Ulu Watu is the end of the road and home to both a world-renowned surf resort and the Pura Luhur Ulu Watu sea temple (open 3 am ’til 7 pm; 25,000 entry and 1000 for parking), which has stood precariously on an outcrop since the 11th century and is best photographed at sunset.
Bingin beach, Bukit Peninsula, Bali, Indonesia

Bingin beach and cliffs, Bukit Peninsula

Coffee and breakfast at Bingin beach, Bukit Peninsula, Bali, Indonesia

Coffee and breakfast at a Bingin beach cafe

Padang Padang Beach, Bukit Peninsula, Bali, Indonesia

Padang Padang Beach, Bukit Peninsula

…South-west Bali

As for Bali’s south-west coast, avoid it. It’s the main artery from Java to Denpasar and so suffers from the same pitfalls as Java: heavy traffic, pollution, over-crowding.

Roadside Indonesian gas station with petrol in glass Absolut vodka bottles

What a petrol/gas station looks like in Indonesia. Why always Absolut bottles?

…North & East Bali

The north and east coasts are relatively free from traffic and offer more low-key, local black-sand (often a nice way of saying ugly) beaches like Amed in the east or Lovina, a string of fishing villages attached to Singaraja in northern Bali. Both are in the process of going from local secret to “off-the-beaten-track” destination and offer a more relaxed, more authentically Indonesian beach experience, for those who actually like to see the culture of the places they go.

…Central Bali

Central Bali is characterised by mountain roads, lakes and jungle, rice paddies, coffee plantations and clove orchards, volcanic crater rims, picturesque temples and beautiful Balinese architecture. North of Ubud, the traffic disperses and the tourists thin out.

Lake Batur, Bali, Indonesia

Lake Batur from the crater rim road

View of Mount Gunung Batur, Bali, Indonesia

Gunung (Mount) Batur from our hotel

Sign at Pura Ulun Danu Bratan reading your attention pleace visitor entering this temple are kindly requested to be dresed neatly and properly to observe the existed derectory to stay away during your period for the ladies keep clean liness and environment conservation

I wonder how well point three is enforced.

We rode up, past Pura Ulun Danu Bratan to Lovina, then borrowed a couple of scenic rides from Lash, who knows Bali ridiculously well, and drove the mountain road up to Kintamani, along the crater rim of Gunung (Mount) Batur, then down again through little Balinese villages like Manikilyu and Lembean and on to Ubud.

Balinese country road and moped

Exploring the Balinese countryside by scooter

Selamat datang Desa Lembean Balinese gates

Welcome to Bali! Balinese gates at Desa Lebean

Ubud is one of the major settings of Eat Pray Love (and so, as is to be expected, is full of women of all ages trying to find themselves). While not the most beautiful place on earth, it’s Bali’s unique, hospitable and beautiful culture that continues to draw travellers from all over the world, and Ubud is arguably the best place to experience this. Try:

  • The Sacred Monkey Forest Sanctuary
  • Traditional Balinese music and dance, such as kecak, legong, barong and gamelan. Ask around for nightly performances at the likes of Pura Dalem Ubud and Pura Taman Saraswati (all on Jalan Raya Ubud).
  • There are several walking paths around Ubud.
Brem Balinese rice wine in Ubud, Bali, Indonesia

Brem – a deliciously sweet Balinese rice wine – in Ubud

Nightlife in Ubud is easy: the place to go after hours is CP Lounge. Until then it’s all about great food and the many shisha, tapas and live music bars in town. My personal favourite spot is Laughing Buddha.

Live music in Laughing Buddha tapas bar, Ubud, Bali, Indonesia

Kacir live at Laughing Buddha tapas bar, my favourite spot in Ubud

Where to Stay in Ubud?

  •  Jiwa’s House, on Jalan Sandat, offers the perfect Indonesian homestay experience, with clean rooms, great breakfast, lovely, down-to-earth owners, friendly dog, good location, abundant greenery and Balinese architecture everywhere. This is the perfect place in which to experience Ubud and only 200,000 (£10), so I strongly advise booking ahead. You won’t regret it.
Jiwa's House homestay in Ubud, Bali, Indonesia

Parked up at the beautiful Jiwa’s House homestay in Ubud

Further Afield than Bali?

Take the ferry or fast-boat from the port of Padangbai – a decent backpacker town in itself – to Lombok and/or the Gili Islands (by the way, gili means “small island” in the local Sasak language of Lombok, so not only does “the Gili Islands” mean the “small island islands”, but all the islands in the region are “gilis”). You can get a door-to-door transfer from your hotel in Kuta (or Ubud) to Gili Trawangan for as low as 190,000, though that involved some serious haggling.

I also recommend taking the ferry over from Gilimanuk to Ketapang (the ferry port on Java, eight kilometres north of Banyuwangi) and tackling the volcano and crater lake at Kawah Ijen.


Categories: Asia, Indonesia, South East Asia, Travel Stories | Tags: | 1 Comment

Gili Trawangan Nightlife Guide

Throughout my travels, almost everyone I’ve asked says their favourite place in Indonesia, or even South East Asia, is the Gili Islands. All different types of traveller, all talking as though they alone stumbled upon this paradise.

Turquoise water and white sand beach on Gili Trawangan island, Lombok, Indonesia

Arriving at Gili Trawangan, there’s no jetty; the boat just pulls up on the sand.

Gili Trawangan (“Gili T” by the time you’ve been there a few hours) is the famed “party island” of the three Gilis – the others being tranquil little Gili Meno and laid-back Gili Air – and, though this isn’t the 70s anymore, is definitely up there with the world’s greatest backpacker paradises.

Dutch football supporters celebrating on Gili Trawangan beach at sunrise

After losing my bet on Costa Rica to win the World Cup, we consoled ourselves by partying with the Dutch.

I call this a “nightlife guide”, but that’s not to say the party on Gili T stops during the daylight hours. I was there during Ramadan and still managed to only crawl in at 10.30 the next morning.

Gili Trawangan sunrise, Indonesia

Swimming with the sunrise after an epic night out!

Look out for a “vodka joss” – a local speciality, illegal almost everywhere else in the world - made from a shot of vodka and a sachet of energy powder.

The Nightly Parties & Where to Catch Them

Some of the major bars on Gili T have a kind of oligopoly over the island’s late-night nightlife, with “the party” doing the rounds every week. Don’t miss out on the action. Unless you’re there for Ramadan, when things are a bit different, this’ll be your bible for the season:

  • Monday night – Blue Marlin
  • Tuesday night – Trawangan (Beach) Cottages
  • Wednesday night – Tir Na Nog (“the Irish”)
  • Thursday night – Sama Sama + Pool party at Gili Hostel + Quiz night at Trawangan Dive (Bar)
  • Friday night – Surf Bar + Rudy’s
  • Saturday night – Sama Sama
  • Sunday night – Evolution + Ladies’ night at the Irish
Pool party at Gili Hostel in Trawangan, Gili Islands, Indonesia

At the pool party with a couple o’ cold Bintangs

If in doubt just hit the strip, ask around or follow the flow.

Gili Hostel pool bar party in Trawangan, Gili Islands, Indonesia

Pool party at the Gili Hostel pool bar

Must-dos for a Night Out on Gili Trawangan

All of this is on pretty much every night (except the boat party, which is three days a week) and should not be missed while your on Gili T:

  • After sunset, start a night at the night market. There’s amazing food all over the island, but this is by far the cheapest and most authentically Indonesian.
  • Pre-gaming from 8 pm ’til midnight at Jiggy Jig’s - home to the “Jiggy Jig’s Drinking Challenge”, where if you can drink selection of signature cocktails and shots fastest than anyone else (the current record is at around 17 seconds) it’s free!
  • Bonfire on the beach at Horizontal (they say from 5 pm, but actually it’s whenever it gets dark)
  • Shisha at Horizontal or Pesona
  • Live music at Sama Sama almost every night
  • The pool bar at Gili Hostel (best on a Thursday – see above)
  • The Irish hosts silent discos, pretty much every night during Ramadan.
  • Walk around the island for sunset and drinks at my favourite spot, the Exile.
  • There’s even a full-moon party on Gili T.
  • Also, don’t forget the Drunken Monkeyz (DMZ) yacht party!
Horizontal beach bar in Gili Trawangan island, Lombok, Indonesia

Chillin’ at Horizontal with 2-4-1 happy hour banana coladas

Beach bonfire at Horizontal bar, Gili Islands, Lombok

The beach bonfire at Horizontal from sunset

Pesona Indian restaurant beach bar shisha lounge in Gili T, Indonesia

Pesona Indian restaurant: a great place to chill out with shisha on the beach

The Exile hostel beach bar in Gili T, Lombok, Indonesia

Putting my feet up with a cocktail at my favourite spot: the Exile

Gili Trawangan map of bars and nightlife in Gili T, the Gili Islands, Lombok, Indonesia

Another one of my beautifully crafted maps. Print and have it framed if you want.

Other Cool Shit to Do on Gili Trawangan

Here’s some stuff to do that doesn’t (necessarily) involve getting drunk:

  • Movies on the beach opposite Jessica Homestay and also Vila Ombak. You can check showings a day in advance. Expect the likes of Eat Pray Love and The Hangover 2. You also get a free can of Bintang, popcorn, or a toblerone or whatever.
  • Climb to the viewpoint and World War Two bunker.
  • Swim in the impeccably beautiful turquoise waters.
  • Snorkel. (The best spot, if not taking a boat or tour, is the corner of the island, anywhere beyond Coral Beach 2.)
  • Dive. (Gili T’s one of the best places to learn in the world. If interested, look up Enrique.)
  • Save yourself you trip to Meno or Air and walk around the island for some secluded beach spots and great sunsets.
  • There’s a turtle conservation centre.
  • Paddle-board.
  • Take a horse and cart, the only form of transport on the island.
Sunset over water at Gili Trawangan island in Indonesia

The best sunsets are from the south-west corner, where it sets over the water.

Where to Stay in Gili Trawangan?

Gili T’s the kind of place where you can usually just rock up and find a place, though prices do go up in the high season. When you land, go inland a couple of blocks and you’ll save a fortune.

One place we can vouch for is Three Little Birds homestay. It seems to be run by a Norwegian girl and three Lombok Rastas, one of whom cooks the best eggs and pancakes I’ve ever had. It’s somehow clean to Western standards, really laid-back and only 150,000 (£7.50) a night for the room, in the high-season. They’ll let you fill up your bottles from their drinking water for a small charge and give you candles when the power goes out, which it will. From the boat, turn right down the strip, take left at Cafe Gili and it’s just down the second right, after the mosque. Look out for these signs:

Three Little Birds homestay entrance gate in Gili Trawangan, Lombok, Indonesia

The entrance to Three Little Birds homestay

Three Little Birds homestay sign in Gili Trawangan, Lombok, Indonesia

Our “home away from home” in Gili T

Methanol Poisoning: A Word of Warning

Just remember, this isn’t Bali; it’s Lombok, where the locals are mostly Muslim. Also, with Indonesia being the world’s most populous predominantly Muslim country, taxes on wine and spirits have been driven up, prompting many bars and shops to cut their alcohol with methanol, leading to the deaths of many tourists. This is a plain example of how foreigners are treated in Indonesia.

Rudy’s bar, for one, has been caught red-handed on several occasions and yet shows no signs of stopping, despite several deaths directly attributed to them. As you can imagine, in my “line of work”, I take this kind of thing very seriously and ask you to join me in boycotting Rudy’s and any other bar implicated.

Sorry to put a downer on things. You’ll have a blast!

Sunrise boat from Gili Islands to Lombok, Indonesia

Saying goodbye to the Gili Islands. Leaving on the sunrise boat…

Categories: Asia, Indonesia, South East Asia, Travel Stories | Tags: | 5 Comments

Where the Hell Can I Get a Drink in Brunei?!

When I knew I’d be passing through Brunei – a “dry” Islamic country in the process of introducing sharia law – my first question was, of course, “so where can I get a drink?”

Sultan Omar Ali Saifuddin Mosque, Bandar Seri Begawan, Negara Brunei Darussalam

The Sultan Omar Ali Saifuddin Mosque in Bandar…

I learned of the existence of a mysterious “speakeasy” known as “the lounge” and I made it my goal whilst in Brunei to track it down.

After reading a few accounts, like this one by Martin Vaughan for Wall Street JournalPatrick Brzeski’s detective work for The Hollywood Reporter or Roger Mitton’s recollections of the legendary Brunei journalist, Ignatius Stephen, for the Phnom Penh Post, nobody was giving away the location, but I had a few clues. I knew that “the lounge”:

  • Is located in a well-known hotel in Bandar, though the number of the floor differs depending on the account,
  • At the end of a hall, behind two unmarked doors, and that you have to listen for faint noise within.
  • Has an outdoor, but discreet terrace.

I also had to bear in mind though that these reports could be second-hand, or could include misleading information in order to protect the establishment, or the writer themselves.

Basically, this was the kind of place you’d only find if you were invited. You had to be in the know, gain trust, work your way into the inner circle…

…and I had two days to find it.

It was tough, but we did it.

Brunei Alcohol Laws

Brunei’s Sultan is in the very process of implementing good, old-fashioned sharia law, which means alcohol is illegal and drinking it (along with being gay, talking shit about God and probably even eating pork – the vices according to the Islamic world) can leave you caned, flogged, stoned (to death) or even missing a limb.

Here’s an overview of Brunei’s alcohol laws:

  • Consumption of alcohol by Muslims is illegal in Brunei.
  • Sale of alcohol is illegal.
  • Drinking in public is illegal.
  • Public drunkenness is a very serious crime.
  • However, the minimum legal drinking age, for non-Muslims obviously, is 17.
  • Non-Muslims are allowed to bring in up to two litres of bottled spirits or 12 cans of beer once every 48 hours (not twice a day, as some sites claim) as long as you declare it and get an “alcohol permit” on entry. This is actually one of the more generous, as far as alcohol import allowances go…
Yellow alcohol permit for Negara Brunei Darussalam

Crossing into Brunei with my single beer and “alcohol permit”

…but what they don’t tell you anywhere else, and which I learnt the hard way, is that if you’re coming overland from KK (Kota Kinabalu, or most places in Sabah, Malaysia) you won’t be able to bring your alcohol to Bandar (because you’ll cross into Brunei twice, within 48 hours).

Map of Malaysia to Brunei bus route

They should call me “the Drinking Map-maker”!

Typical! The first time in my life I play this their way and declare something at customs, and they screw me. I had to drink it on the bus. The bus drivers asked what the hell I was doing declaring it, saying I should’ve just brought it in. You want my advice? Never declare anything. Of course, nobody ever searched the bus. Part of me had to wonder whether the whole bus wasn’t loaded with illicit booze.

I love Brunei, I love money badges on bus to Bandar Seri Begawan

This photo totally sums up Brunei for me.

Also bear in mind that being non-drinkers themselves, the border officials often don’t know the difference between beer, wine, spirits and so on, and are also unlikely to be sympathetic to your cause.

For a full guide, check out this guide to bringing alcohol into Brunei by Don’t Stop Living’s Jonny Blair, who’s been even more places than I have.

So, How and Where Can I Drink in Brunei?

If you want a drink in Brunei, here are your options. Bear in mind, most of these are illegal. If you don’t want to break the law, listen to the laws above, not to my advice.

  • BYOB (bring your own booze) is common in some small, non-Muslim-run restaurants. There’s no corkage charge but remember, it’s illegal, so keep it hidden and low-profile and always ask first.
  • After Muslims, the next largest ethnic group in Brunei is non-Muslim Chinese – many of whom drink. Some Chinese restaurants offer the infamous “special tea” (beer in a teapot). As a rule of thumb, if there’s pork, there’s beer…or at the very least you won’t risk your skin asking for it. So head for Chinatown!
  • You can drink at your place or at the private home of a non-Muslim. (Remember, you’re allowed to bring in some alcohol.)
  • Do what the locals do: go to Miri, LabuanKuala Lurah, etc, across the border in Malaysia.
  • As it’s technically not Brunei soil, why not have a drink in your embassy?
  • There are, of course, secret, underground parties in isolated spots where you can drink and dance to loud music, but good luck finding them. They’re invitation only, but try your luck with the bell-hops (hotel porters) who are most likely to be in the know.

Exposing Brunei’s Underground Drinking Scene!

Early searches for “Brunei nightlife” led only to late-night coffee shops, like the ones in Gadong, and the Chinese restaurateurs I asked in the city centre were unresponsive and the visits unfruitful.

I attempted to use Foursquare, which has a list of speakeasies in Brunei, and came up with names of places like “My Dream”, “Area 31″ and “Bebeh Hotspot”, but all of these were on the outskirts of the city and the locations were too vague, with no other information on them available online. Not to mention they sound dodgy as hell.

I drew up a list of Bandar hotels and, with the few clues I’d garnered, began my sleuthing.

After checking out all but one of the central hotels, my money was on the Radisson, but while “the Rad” does have a BYOB lounge where you can store your alcohol in lockers, it is exclusive to guests and – the big giveaway – there was no terrace space visible from outside.

All we needed to do was get in the know, get talking to a white businessman in a hotel bar – but, oh yeah, there are no hotel bars! I was at a loss…

…but just then we spotted a fellow “whitey” leaving the Rad.

I saw a chance and I took it.

“Excuse me, do you speak English?”


“Do you know if there’s a bar or anything around here?”

He smiled, instinctively looking around to check no-one was listening in. “Well…there is one place… It’s not much to look at, but…”

[By the way, unlike the other accounts I’ve read, I’m perfectly happy to blow the whistle on this place – they’re the ones breaking the law, not me, and I honestly won’t loose any sleep over making an enemy of the Sultan of Brunei - anyone who has 599 Rolls-Royces and decides he needs another one rather than sharing that money with the poor and disadvantaged is not exactly a potential friend of mine. What a twat!

However, I don’t want to be the guy who puts it online and ruins it for everyone. So, if you genuinely want to know where this place to drink in Brunei is, just contact me.]

Anyway, the guy, who we’ll lend an Irish accent and call “Cole”, was actually on his way to get booze and offered to give us a ride with his “driver”.

Cole was a great guy. He confirmed the stories of groups sitting drinking tea outside Chinese restaurants and getting gradually more loud and larey. He said that, behind the scenes, Bruneians are friendly and very liberal, like his driver, and that the lounge is actually owned by the Sultan’s cousin (a fact I obviously haven’t been able to confirm, but which I find highly plausible).

The drive was roughly four or five kilometres…or maybe it was miles.

Dropped off at the hotel, we walked in, through the lobby, took the elevator, and followed the hall to its end, where we were confronted with the set of unmarked doors, with masked, dome CCTV camera above, exactly as I’d expected. They’d even put three plants in front of the door in an attempt to disguise it.

Door to the lounge bar in Bandar Seri Begawan, Negara Brunei Darussalam

Plants mysteriously attempt to hide the entrance to Brunei’s most notorious “speakeasy”.

I thought I could hear sporadic noises coming from inside, but when I knocked there was no answer.

“Come on Roy, let’s just go.”

I knocked again and, after a short wait, a small side-door just to our right unexpectedly opened to reveal a group of security guards.

“Is this the lounge?” I asked, and they shrugged and let us in.

“It should be quite obvious,” Cole had said. “Clearly everyone knows about it. If it was actually unwanted, it would be in a warehouse somewhere with heavy security and rife with hookers and drugs.”

This place was quiet and civilised - no loud music or dancing or explicit sex acts – with a pool table, people sitting around on plush but faded, threadbare chairs, like in an old, local pub in England, smoking, enjoying a beer, or some food from the legitimate restaurant downstairs. (In case you’re interested, food is about $5.50 for soup or chips and $26 for a t-bone steak.)

Apparently the Chief of Police regularly drinks here, and (contrary to what you might first think) when he’s in the house your definitely safe from a raid.

“Do you have a menu?” I asked.

The bartender just laughed. “No.”

The choice of booze was limited to a few bottles – mostly whisky, which seemed to match the clientele – and beer for $7 a pint, which is, perhaps surprisingly, roughly UK price.

There were old black and white pictures on the wall, lockers for guests to store their booze, a TV, turned low, playing sports. There was the terrace, as promised, surrounded by staggered slats to impair viewers from outside.

Drinking alcohol in Brunei illegally in the lounge bar

Drinking a nice, illegal pint in a Brunei speakeasy

That shakey, adrenalin-induced feeling you get when you’re breaking the law, when you’re out of your depth and don’t know what you’re getting yourself into. Maybe the equivalent of how you’d feel if you sought out an opium den in the UK. It was my first “speakeasy” and the word alone put me in the mind of Bugsy Mallone or Al Capone or whatever. I’ve no doubt there are others – lesser-known, more local – roadside cafes and so on. House parties are also a big part of life here, we were told.

The feeling had faded and we were now relaxed, on seeing the harmlessness and strange normalcy (oxymoron intended) of the place.

A trip to the toilet (which had a bath-tub) gave the impression that this was a not-so-long-ago converted suite. The lack of decor (relative to the rest of the hotel) and the fact that there’d been no attempt to remove the bath pointed to the illicit nature of the establishment.

Bathroom in the lounge bar in Bandar Seri Begawan, Negara Brunei Darussalam

A bath in the restrooms reveals that the bar was once a hotel suite.

When we were good and tipsy we called our new driver, who 10 minutes later picked us up and took us back to the Radisson, where he, erroneously but quite conveniently, assumed we were staying.

“How much do we owe you?”

“Whatever you want to pay.”

“I don’t really know the currency… We only just arrived. Is ten about right?”

“Sure,” he said with a smile that could either mean “no, you cheapskate bastards” or “thank you kindly”.

On a side note, I’m now pretty sure that journey should’ve cost about $15 – or $30 after 10 pm, when rates double.

I won’t give away the driver’s name or number or any other details as there are apparently less than 50 licensed taxi drivers in BSB…though it’s probably safe to say he wasn’t one of them.

Where to Stay in Bandar Seri Begawan?

When’s the last time you met anyone who’s been to Brunei? Accommodation (especially of the budget variety) is fairly limited in Brunei. Bandar has a handful of options though:

  • Pusat Belia – The equivalent of a YHA or HI hostel. Dorms from $10 (that’s Brunei dollars) (£5). Try it if you want. Didn’t respond to our emails and told us they were full when they quite clearly weren’t. (It’s massive!)
  • KH Soon Resthouse – $40 double or $35 single. (Prices have gone up a bit since the latest Lonely Planet – as they always do!) This is where we stayed. Huge rooms, squat toilets, no breakfast, dead centre of the city (shame not much else is) and staff are nice enough. Perfectly adequate. It’s extortionate for South East Asia, but a good deal for Brunei.
  • Terrace Hotel – $65 with no breakfast or $75 with à la carte breakfast. It’s dated but has a pool and is probably the best deal in town if you want a nice room.
  • Radisson – $80 plus tax. Buffet breakfast. I wouldn’t normally mention these options but there’s really not a lot else. It’s very swish though and within easy walk of the centre even with a backpack.

What Else to Do in Bandar?

Not much.

Derelict water village homes in Bandar Seri Begawan, Negara Brunei Darussalam

…and the view from literally the same spot, facing 180 degrees the other way.

You should probably check out:

  • The Sultan Omar Ali Saifuddin Mosque, pictured above…
  • …and the derelict water villages immediately opposite (and all over Brunei).
  • The night market and shitty day market for some relatively cheap eats.
  • Istana Nurul Iman – the largest royal residence in the world (bigger than Versailles) with 1,788 rooms and 257 bathroomscan only be seen for three days a year, during Hari Raya Aidilfitri (the end of Ramadan). Otherwise you can take a water taxi around its immense grounds for $15 and you won’t see shit.
Categories: Asia, Brunei, Travel Stories | Tags: | 5 Comments

The Bugtong Bato Falls, Tibiao: How to Get There?

After a jaunt on the backpacker trail through South East Asia and a few nights on Boracay, I was desperate to get “off the beaten track”. I spotted the Bugtong Bato falls on an old map of the Philippines I found. No further explanation of what might be there. No information at all on how to get there. Perfect!

Filipino heated kawa baths at Kayak Inn, Antique province

Filipino kawa baths at Kayak Inn

How to get to Tibiao?

The island of Panay is visited by well over a million tourists every year…almost all of whom then proceed immediately to the ferry terminal at Caticlan and transit to the infinitely smaller – too small to have its own airport – island of Boracay.

I’d seen the amazing landscape of rolling green mountains and turquoise coastline that Panay has to offer, both from the plane over from Vietnam and from the bus journey from Kalibo airport to the port. Most Boracay-destined tourists fly directly to Caticlan. Luckily for me, I’m a cheapskate.

Map of Panay Island, the Philippines with Aklan, Antique, Capiz and Iloilo provinces, Boracay, Caticlan, Kalibo and San Jose de Buenavista

Because images speak louder than words, I stole a map of Panay and wrote over it for you.

So, if coming from Caticlan and/or Boracay, turn right out of the port terminal, negotiate your way through the tourist shuttle buses and look for a yellow local bus. You want the bus for San Jose de Buenavista, although the locals all call it “Antique”, like the province it’s capital of.

The bus cost 100 pesos each (less than £1.50). I asked a local, who’d had his headphones in when we’d asked the driver, and he confirmed the amount. Whatever they tell you, the bus ride will take the best part of the day.

The road passes between the lush, undulating moss-green hills of Panay’s own Cordillera mountain range and seemingly never-ending stretches of beach – some golden sand, some pebble, palm-shaded, peppered with little fishing boats, home-made from bamboo, but all completely free of people. You could take weeks, travel this coastline in depth, experiencing the best of the Philippines, and yet you’d most likely never meet another foreign tourist.

Rice fields in Antique province, Panay, the Philippines

Panay from the bus

If you’re coming up from Iloilo (Panay’s capital, biggest city and other major airport) then you can catch the same yellow bus coming from the other direction.

Ask to be dropped off in Tibiao or, if you can, at the turn off signposted for “Kayak Inn”, 4km north of Tibiao.

How to Get to Kayak Inn?

A local lady ran us through our limited options and accommodation choices in Tibiao. It was getting late (our bus broke down, of course) but we decided to grab a tricycle (the three-wheeled Philippine equivalent of the tuk tuk) to the turn off for a few pesos. (We paid 30 between us, but it’s not far. You’ll get it for less.) From there you need to change to a motorbike, for reasons that will soon become clear. The price for this is 35 pesos per person

…only, when we got there, the guys waiting wanted 200. We haggled them down but when it came down to it, the guy said, “yes, 35 is local price. You pay tourist price” and they wouldn’t budge below 45.

“Oh, I wish you hadn’t told me that,” I said, and, much to their surprise, we took back our bags, which they’d already taken the liberty of strapping to their bikes, and started hoofing it.

You might think I’m crazy haggling over a few pence, but “tourist prices” really get my back up. A lot of places take this attitude towards tourism, and the Philippines is especially bad for it. I’m always happy to take a minute to argue a principle and do my bit to help stop other travellers being ripped off.

The road is about six or seven kilometres but rough conditions mean you’re looking at at least a two hour walk. Some bikes passed – each taking their turn at trying to extort us - but, now that we’d walked some of the way, I wasn’t even going to pay the full 35, let alone what these guys were quoting. Eventually though, we got a good honest kid who agreed on 25 pesos each and insisted he could fit three people, two backpacks, six litres of water and various other crap on one motorcycle

…and he was right… Just about.

Motorcycle taxi to Kayak Inn via unpaved dirt road

One small motorcycle. Three grown adults, two big backpacks, some other shit…

We spluttered up steep gradients, then raced down the other side at god-knows-what-speed, over loose gravel, sliding and skidding through tight bends and deep mud, slick from recent rain, all on a ridiculously overladen bike, rattling over the deep corrugations, and with darkness falling fast.

Being a motorcyclist myself, I have the utmost respect for this young kid. I know how dangerous any one of these things can be on its own, let alone all at once. At times we had to get off and walk, but he never once went down.

Though we spent most of the ride watching the ground speed by beneath us, it was impossible to miss the sunset over the mountains, the rice-fields and the Tibiao river valley.

Eventually, in almost complete darkness, we pulled off the road at what must be Kayak Inn and luckily they had a room for one night. A big family were eating dinner on the big, open terrace, with the darkness as a back-drop. The dad, who couldn’t speak much English but had his kids on hand to help translate, invited us in while one of the daughters made up our room.

A baby, in a basket/wrap-type-thing, hung from the ceiling by a single rope, bouncing gently in the breeze. A pet monkey on a chain looked extremely unhappy with his current situation and leapt at me with fangs bared when I got close.

Room at Kayak Inn near Tibiao, the Philippines

Sorry, I might be out of contact for a while…

The room was in its own self-contained log cabin, suspended off the ground by wooden legs, perfectly located and with a simple electricity setup run through bamboo tubes.

Electricity at Kayak Inn near Tibiao, Antique, Panay, Philippines

At least we had electricity.

The shower was a bucket.

Bathroom at Kayak Inn, Tuno, Antique province on Panay island

Nothing like a bucket of cold spring water in the morning!

Looking out now into the darkness, we realised we’d never have found this place if we’d walked. Such is life.

The room was 500 pesos per person and they also prepared a hot meal for us for something like 250 pesos each, which was a little steep, but it’s not like there’s anywhere else to go and eat.

Someone had to ride off to get the ingredients (most probably a live chicken) so they brought over a Thermos, mugs and some sachets of 3-in-1 coffee while we waited.

Kayak Inn near Tibiao, Antique, Panay, Philippines

Thermos + rustic setting = that camping feeling!

We sat amidst the impenetrable blackness of night and the sounds of nature echoing around the valley – crickets chirping, the stream trickling, grasses rustling in the night breeze - sipping from mugs of hot coffee, knees up as the heat of the day gradually cooled off, while the family across the way played card games by a faint light and one-by-one retired to an early bed.

Filipino meal of chicken, rice, fried fish and vegetables

Chicken, vegetables, fried fish and rice on an empty stomach. Much more delicious than it looks.

Dinner was surprisingly delicious chicken and vegetables, with a side of fried fish and absolutely tonnes of rice…and was accompanied by a friendly dog, who went on to stay for breakfast and even escorted us to the Bugtong Bato falls and back the next day (a round trip of two hours that included an almost vertical flight of steps).

Dog at Kayak Inn

This little fella joined us for dinner…

We sat up talking long into the night. It was that magical feeling you get when you go camping as a child.

We were properly, well and truly “off the beaten track”!

“I could stay here forever.”

Suddenly there was a sound above, like the bleating of a donkey echoing through the night. It seemed to come from overhead, from the corner of our bedroom.

“What the hell was that?”

We waited.

A few minutes later it came again, closer.

And again.

Then the biggest gecko we’d ever seen emerged from between the bathroom and bedroom and the mystery was solved. He was soon joined by a female, same size, and we watched them for hours as they crept slowly towards a moth or other insect of the night, one foot at a time, those little toes splaying out and sucking to the wall, all with such unbelievable patience. They almost always got their man. After everything they ate, it’s no wonder they’d got so big.

Big geckos kissing

This pair were at it all night!

The bed was a thick, comfy new mattress, on the ground and covered from head to toe with a mosquito net (no holes, no dust, no musty smell). The sheets were freshly laundered and smelt good, the bed freshly made, which is kind of necessary in a place like this. (I once stayed in a place on Lake Ometepe in Nicaragua where spiders had laid their eggs in the sheets and scorpions hid under the pillows. The owner ended up chasing us out onto the bus with a machete, but that’s another story.)

We went to bed watching the stars…

How to Get to the Bugtong Bato Falls?

…and in the morning, with no alarm to set, I woke to golden sunlight, blue sky and a cool morning breeze stirring the green leafage outside the shutter-less window.

Window in bamboo hut at Kayak Inn

My morning view

Sleeping under mosquito net in Philippines

Do not disturb. Traveller sleeping.

Kayak Inn is even more impressive by the light of day and even has several kawa hot baths.

Kayak Inn, Tuno, Tibiao, Antique, Panay, Philippines

The serene “Kayak Inn” by the light of day!

Ruth was already up and had ordered our breakfast, which is included in the price and arrived shortly…as did our four-legged friend from last night.

Typical Filipino breakfast of rice, egg and tocino

A typical Filipino breakfast of egg, rice and…red stuff

Cute dog in Philippines

…and again for breakfast…

As you’ll know if you’ve ever travelled the Philippines, a typical Filipino breakfast is not at all dissimilar to a typical Filipino lunch and a typical Filipino dinner, consisting of rice, fried egg and fried fish or chicken (or, in this case, tocino, which in Spanish means “bacon” and here, evidently, means “red shit”.

Pet monkey in Philippines

Beware of the monkey!

We ate, threw a few buckets of surprisingly pleasant cold water over ourselves, packed up, left our bags and set off again for the Bugtong Bato falls, with our canine amigo leading the way up ahead.

Road to Bugtong Bato falls, Panay, Philippines

The road to the Bugtong Bato falls

The dirt road continues on, past stunning views of wooden houses perched overlooking the Tibiao river valley, into Barangay Tuno. (A barangay, often abbreviated to “Brgy.”, is the smallest administrative division in the Philippines, so roughly translates to a hamlet in English.) The Bugtong Bato waterfalls are actually in (or closest to) Tuno, but Tibiao is the closest place that’s likely to show up on a map, if you’re lucky.

The Tibiao river, Panay, Philippines

Occasional bamboo buildings beside the Tibiao river

In Tuno, tourists have to “register” and pay, I think 100 pesos, to go to the falls. This sleepy makeshift booth is also where they’ll try their best to insist that you need a guide. You don’t. In countries where there’s no such thing as “official”, government-run Tourist Information offices, it’s always hard to know who to trust. In my experience, as a rule of thumb, trust no-one…when money’s concerned, at least. However, in this case 100 pesos isn’t a lot and seems to go directly to the community.

Our dog strutted around like he owned the place, while bigger, tougher-looking dogs slept all around us or raised one eye-lid from where they lay in the shade.

From here, take a right on a little alley just past the registration booth. We didn’t have any major problem sticking to the path, but it does fork off more than once or twice so, if in doubt, ask a local. There’s always a villager nearby, carrying something or building something, and they’ll know what you’re after.


The path to the Bugtong Bato waterfalls, through jungle, rice fields, villages…

The path leads through jungle, beside rice-paddies where water-buffalo get down and dirty in the mud, rivers where the locals bathe and wash their clothes and rustic homesteads where chickens feed under the palms. All the kids rush over to say “hello” and run off again giggling when you say it back.

Filipino dog at the Bugtong Bato waterfalls

…and then followed (actually, led) us to the waterfalls!

The track is not exactly what you’d call a gentle stroll, and then, when you reach the first of the “seven” Bugtong Bato falls, involves a cross between a ladder and a very steep flight of steps. (You haven’t lived ’til you’ve seen a dog climb this.)

Swimming hole of second waterfall at Bugtong Bato falls

Ruth in the swimming hole beneath the second waterfall

At the second fall is a beautiful swimming hole where you can jump in and cool off after the sweat-inducing trek. From here you need to climb and then use a rope to scale an incredibly slippery rock-face. (This is probably why most people opt for the guide.) As long as you can hold your body weight, you should be fine.

Climbing third waterfall by rope at Bugtong Bato falls, Panay

The third waterfall is accessible only by a treacherous climb!

At the top is the third waterfall and a plunge pool – the best swimming hole yet – directly overlooking the others below. I was admiring the waterfall when I heard a scream.


I ran to the edge and saw Ruth was attempting the climb and her legs had been washed out from under her and she was hanging on for dear life.

“No, no, no!”

I climbed down, calmed her down and talked her through it. She made it up to the top, where she admitted it was worth it. Sadly I couldn’t carry a camera up there so I don’t have any photos of the third pool and you’ll just have to trust us or, even better, go experience it yourself. The Philippines is absolutely covered with waterfalls just like these ones.

Apparently there are seven levels of waterfalls at Bugtong Bato, but where the other four are is beyond me. Even if you hire a guide you only get as far as the third.

Later, while we were swimming, some local kids came by, scaled the rocks in seconds and started doing back-flips into the water, making us look like complete pussies.

We climbed back down, soon reminded that the way down is often harder than the way up, and had to get back to the Inn before lunch to grab our stuff. This time our dog wasn’t so lucky. The other dogs were laying in wait for him and fell about him snarling and biting. They had him surrounded and I had to run in there and startle them so he could slip through and get the hell out of there.

Back at the Inn, we said goodbye to him, donned the bags and hit the road again…

Road to Tibiao, Panay, Philippines

On the road again…

…until a few minutes later we got a free ride from some friendly Boracayans in a four-wheel-drive, just returning after dropping off an all-Filipino tour group at Kayak Inn. (Maybe we weren’t so “off-the-beaten-track” after all.) At the main road they chased the yellow bus which had just gone past (another wouldn’t be due for hours), flagged it down for us (actually, more like ran it off the road) and refused to take any money for their help.

The bus took us to Iloilo, and from there we flew to Palawan.

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Egg Coffee in Vietnam

After a hard night’s drinking in Hanoi, we decided to go in search of some coffee. Vietnam is one of the biggest coffee exporters in the world after all.

Egg coffee ca phe trung in Cafe Pho Co coffee shop, Hanoi, Vietnam

A creamy, frothy “egg coffee” (ca phe trung) in Vietnam

Ruth had heard about Vietnamese “egg coffee” from The Coffee Trail with Simon Reeve and I remembered reading John Steinbeck’s Travels with Charley, in which he meets a stranger on the road and brews him the perfect coffee by adding egg:

“I cracked an egg and cupped out the yolk and dropped white and shells into the pot, for I know nothing that polishes coffee and makes it shine like that.”

We looked in a lot of coffee shops, including the multiple-terraced Highlands Coffee and City View Cafe, but none of them had it. About to give up and wandering aimlessly down Hàng Gai in the Old Quarter, we spotted a faded sign that read “Radio Coffee” above a thin, ill-lit alley-esque corridor that opened into a courtyard resembling an old lady’s living room, complete with rusty sewing machine and dusty china dolls. Some kid came out of a side-door and – still unsure whether we were in somebody’s house – we asked if they had egg coffee.

They did.

We climbed up two storeys on a rickety spiral staircase where you had to dodge dripping water, and emerged on a two-tiered terrace with beautiful views of Hoàn Kiếm lake, with the whole place to ourselves.

View of Hoan Kiem lake from Cafe Pho Co coffee shop terrace in Hanoi, Vietnam

The view of Hoan Kiem lake from Cafe Pho Co

Now I’m not a great coffee lover at the best of times and the idea of raw egg in my drink (with the obvious exception of a pisco sour) was a little off-putting, but the Drinking Traveller’ll drink anything once, and when the egg coffee (cà phê trung in Vietnamese) arrived, it was absolutely amazing: creamy, sweet and frothy. I couldn’t wait to get another one and would definitely recommend it to anyone.

The place started to fill up until there was barely a table free. Afterwards we found out that this place was Cafe Phố Cổ, which appears in Lonely Planet as:

“One of Hanoi’s best-kept secrets, this place has plum views over Hoan Kiem Lake. Enter through the silk shop, and continue through the antique-bedecked courtyard up to the top floor for the mother of all vistas. You’ll need to order coffee and snacks before tackling the final winding staircase. For something deliciously different, try the caphe trung da, coffee topped with a silkily smooth beaten egg white.”

And, if you’re still not satisfied, there’s always bia trung (egg beer)!

Categories: Asia, South East Asia, Travel Stories, Vietnam | Tags: | Leave a comment

How to Get Drunk for a Pound? Bia Hoi in Hanoi!

Last year, stuck in the office, writing for a travel company but not travelling, it was Vietnam (and Indonesia, but we’ll get to that) that got me dreaming of the road again. Last time I was in South East Asia I met all kinds of people singing Vietnam’s praises – I remember standing on the beach in Ko Phi Phi, four in the morning, with Coomer, listening to one such guy’s stories of remote, idyllic beaches and Vietnamese mothers trying to marry their daughters to him. But alas, I didn’t have a visa for Vietnam on that trip.

Nam Can border, Vietnam

Waiting for dawn at the Nam Can Lao-Vietnamese border.

This time, armed with visas and fresh out of Laos, we found ourselves on a “sleeper bus”, bound, through lush green karst mountains and rice terraces, for Hanoi.

Vietnam sleeper bus

Partying it up on the “sleeper buses” of Vietnam

Green karst mountain road in North Vietnam

Winding through the Vietnamese countryside

Hanoi is one of the most fascinating, yet liveable cities I’ve ever spent time in. Being never far from the coast, Vietnam has an element of French sophistication and charm that didn’t necessarily penetrate as deep as Laos or Cambodia. Beneath this is one of Asia’s most interesting cultures. These blends superbly, resulting in stunning visuals, amazing food (from baguettes to snake meat) and crazy nights.

Vietnamese Bia Hà Nội beer and phở noodle soup

Bia Hà Nội and phở – a classic and delicious Vietnamese meal

Dropped off in the heart of Hanoi’s Old Quarter (Hoàn Kiếm) with the rest of the backpackers, we got our bearings and made our way to our accommodation through the hive of beeping, speeding motorcycles.

Where to Stay in Hanoi?

We stayed in Hanoi Lucky Guesthouse 2 on Hàng Mã. It was really affordable, super clean (though not without the telltale traces of the unavoidable North Vietnam damp) and with (almost too) friendly staff and even a few (virused up) internet terminals. (Don’t expect Facebook. This is the Socialist Republic of Vietnam afterall.) The only reason I might not recommend this place is that we ended up doing the same 10 to 15 minute walk, to where the action is, over and over. Also, be careful, as there seem to be at least two Lucky Guesthouses, Lucky Hotels, Hostels and so on. Fake hotels are apparently an issue in Vietnam.

The Vietnam Backpackers’ Downtown Hostel might be a bit rowdy (and pricey) for some, but that’s the area you probably want to be closer to.

The Motorbike Pub and scooter rental shop in Hanoi, Vietnam

The Motorbike Pub – just one of Hanoi’s cool bars – also rents scooters

Hanoi’s 36 Streets

Ask anyone why they loved Vietnam and what their favourite place was and it’s almost always the “36 streets”. Basically, the idea is that, since the 13th century, each street was dedicated to selling one thing, from sugar to silk.

Vietnamese rice picking hat, 36 streets in Hanoi Old Quarter

Rice pickin’ hats and bicycles in the 36 streets, Hanoi’s Old Quarter

Actually, believe it or not, a lot’s changed since the 13th century and, to me, all the streets seem to sell the same tat. Coffin Street (Lo Su) didn’t have a single coffin in sight and Hat Street seemed to be about the only place in the vicinity where you couldn’t buy a novelty conical rice pickin’ hat.

Ta Hien, Hanoi Old Quarter, Vietnam

Ta Hien – a typical scooter-lined street in the heart of Hanoi’s Old Quarter

Even so, the 36 streets are still one of the coolest areas of town, especially if, like me, you like your nightlife. Head for “Beer Hơi Corner” at the crossroads of Tạ Hiện and Lương Ngọc Quyến. This is also the epicentre of the Old Quarter’s nightlife, with the best action, restaurants, bars and party hostels on those and the surrounding streets: Hàng BuồmĐào Duy Từ and Mã Mây.

Bia hoi beer corner on Ta Hien and Luong Ngoc Quyen in Hanoi, Vietnam

The “bia hơi corner” on Tạ Hiện and Lương Ngọc Quyến

The “Cheapest Beer in the World”!

Bia hoi beer corner, Old Quarter, Hanoi, Vietnam

Hanoi’s “beer corner” is one of the most popular drinking spots in the city.

Bia hơi is Vietnamese draft beer. It is freshly brewed every day, an extremely refreshing lager, and costs only 5000 Vietnamese Dong (and sometimes even cheaper in local areas). At the time of writing, that’s 14 pence or 24 US cents, so, at seven glasses of beer, you really can get drunk for a pound!

Bia hoi for 5000 Vietnamese Dong sign

Bia hơi is only 5000 Dong (14 pence) at the beer corner!

Bia hoi at Hanoi beer corner, Vietnam

Starting the night at the beer corner

For those of you who like to think you can handle more than seven beers before the word “drunk” be brought into play, I apologise. For you, this post should be called “how to get drunk for two pounds”. I don’t think there’re many people out there who think 14 beers for two pounds is a bad deal. So you can see why Vietnam earns its reputation for producing “the cheapest beer in the world”.

Drinking bia hoi beer in Hanoi, Vietnam

Me and Andre drinking bia hơi at the “after hours” bar.

On our second night at the beer corner we met a crazy German guy called Andre. I asked him, “Who brews it? Do we know?”

“Nope. Nobody knows.”

“So, it’s like…mystery beer?”

“Exactly. Mystery beer.”

In fact, in typical South East Asian style, bia hơi production is completely unregulated, informal and not monitored by…well, anyone. Even the alcohol content is unknown (though it’s typically low; around 3%).

After the bia hơi corner bars closed down (curfew), me, Ruth and Andre dashed off in the piss-pouring rain, knocked at a garage door down the road and continued drinking there. By the by, we met a couple of Canadian girls on their way home from a big night who decided to get in a beer with us…only as soon as it was poured, they had to down it as the cops showed up and got stuck into a shouting match with the owners. Sometimes it’s easy to forget there’s a curfew. We also ended up meeting a couple of Israeli guys who knew Kayla and Marion from our Laos adventures. Small world, is the travelling circuit.

Mess after bia hoi

The after-mess…

Other Vietnamese Beers

If you don’t fancy drinking the unknown, you don’t have to fork out much more to get a good-quality bottled beer. The Vietmanese love their beer. Compared to Laos’ one brewery, there are seemingly infinite Vietnamese brews. Here are just a few to look out for:

  • Bia Hà Nội
  • Saigon (Green)
  • Saigon (Red)
  • Huda
  • 333
  • Halida
  • Truc Bach
  • Bia Huế
  • Larue

For more beers from around the world, see my list of world drinks.

Oh and don’t forget Hanoi is much bigger than the Old Quarter. There’s a French Quarter, West Side and so on, plus plenty of snake restaurants, where you can try drinking “snake whisky”.

The next day, we went in search of some much needed coffee.

Categories: Asia, South East Asia, Travel Stories, Vietnam | Tags: | 4 Comments

Lao-Lao in Laos: Luang Prabang & the “Whisky Village”

Luang Prabang in Laos is one of my all time favourite towns: a laid-back backpacker town in the middle of the green Lao hill country, perfect for meeting fellow travellers.

Last time I was here, I woke up on the banks of the Mekong, wearing a pair of bowling shoes, so I was interested to see what was in store for us this time.

Nam Khan River in Luang Prabang, Laos

The Nam Khan: one of two major rivers that shape Luang Prabang

Bar-restaurant on Kingkitsarath Road, Luang Prabang, Laos

Me, Nevo and Jess in Lao Lao Garden or some such bar on Kingkitsarath back in ’09

Where to Stay in Luang Prabang?

Back in 2009, SpicyLaos Backpackers was the cheap, sociable hangout doing the word-of-mouth rounds in South East Asia and I had an amazing time there. The backpacker scene in Laos isn’t quite as it used to be. SpicyLaos is now Lemon Laos Backpackers. “Same same, but different”, they say. I say it’s had it’s day, but then again, what do I know.

This time we stayed in Khammany Inn Guest House, where rooms are surprisingly clean and can be had for somewhere between £1 – 2 per person.

Phou Si

Just like the first time I rolled into Luang Prabang, we (me, Ruth and Adam) grabbed baguettes (a Laos speciality, an improvement even on those of their ex-colonial rulers, the French) and dragon-fruit/mango smoothies from the corner of Kitsalat and Sisavangvong, blitzed the Night Market and started the short hike up Phou Si, a sacred hill in the centre of Luang Prabang.

Buddhist Shrine at Mount Phousi in Luang Prabang, Laos

A Buddhist shrine on the trail up Mount Phou Si in Luang Prabang

Phou Si is home to several Buddhist shrines and temples and the trail winds steeply up through lush greenery to the top, where you’ll find the golden stupa of Wat Chom Si…and, especially at sunset, shitloads of tourists with cameras.

We took out our cameras and got busy.

On Mount Phousi in Luang Prabang, Laos

Me atop Mount Phou Si in Luang Prabang, Laos. Photo by Adam.

Sunset from Mount Phousi in Luang Prabang, Laos

The view from Mount Phou Si at sunset

Going Out Drinking in Luang Prabang

Later we hit the town. The epicentre of the bar-restaurant scene in Luang Prabang is on Kingkitsarath Road. Many will give you a free shot of something or other just for walking in. Some are shitty, some are good, but Lao Lao Garden is probably the favourite. Fairy lights and trailing threads blend almost imperceptibly with the natural vines hanging down from the trees above the outdoor seating. There’s bamboo aplenty and the marquees make this a pleasant hangout whether the sun’s shining or the rain’s coming down hard (as it was for us).

In Lao Lao Garden Restaurant, Luang Prabang

Me and Adam caught trying fruit flavoured rice wine in Lao Lao Garden restaurant

We settled in for a night of Beerlaos, fruit flavoured rice wine and, as it progressed, several glasses of straight lao-Lao (Laotian rice whisky. The first “lao” means alcohol and the second “Lao” means Laotian or from Laos…In case you thought they were just repeating the same word.)

Apparently a Beerlao – even at only £1 – is equivalent to your average Lao’s weekly salary, which, as well as making you feel guilty, makes you realise that lao-Lao (the local’s booze of choice) is by far the most cost-effective way of drinking in Laos. Little did we know we were about to discover for ourselves, firsthand, how it is made…

That night Ruth got a message from our old friend Marion from Vang Vieng asking if we wanted to go with her, Kayla and some other travellers on a river boat up the Mekong to the Buddhist caves. I vaguely remember mumbling something to the effect of “yes” and then passing out for good.

The next day we met up with the others (Marion, Kayla, Kush, Irene and Matt) at the dock. Anticipating a long day, I came armed with a beer. It was when somebody mentioned a “whisky village” that I started to get really excited.

Mekong River Boat to Pak Ou Caves and Ban Xang Hai Whisky Village near Luang Prabang, Laos

We set sail on the Mekong, beer in hand as usual. Destination? The “Whisky Village”! Oh, and some caves…

The journey up the Mekong was a pleasant one, with the cool air blowing off the water, and the Pak Ou Buddhist caves were unlike anything I’d ever seen before. (Unfortunately, photos don’t come out well in that darkness, so you’ll just have to go see for yourself.)

Boat at Pak Ou Caves on Mekong River near Luang Prabang, Laos

Our boat on the Mekong river, docking at the Pak Ou Buddhist caves

Climb to Pak Ou Caves near Luang Prabang, Laos

Steep steps climb through the jungle to the upper cave at Pak Ou.

The caves contain literally thousands of Buddhas of all shapes and sizes. The upper cave, past a long rest-house where locals were sleeping on the floor (and I was tempted to join them) and up another steep hill, is the fat Buddha, who, Marion told me, was too good-looking to achieve enlightenment, so made himself fat to rid himself of the vice of pride. A noble effort.

Mekong Dock at Ban Xang Hai Whisky Village near Luang Prabang, Laos

Adam on the banks of the Mekong at Ban Xang Hai

After Pak Ou, we docked at a village called Ban Xang Hai, put on the map for its production of lao-Lao.

Buddhist temple in Ban Xang Hai whisky village near Luang Prabang, Laos

Buddhist temple in Ban Xang Hai “whisky” village

After wandering the village, we came to what passes for a “distillery”.

The Lao-Lao Fermentation & Distillation Process

1. Soak sticky rice overnight or for at least five hours.

2. Steam it until cooked and firm.

Sticky Rice for Lao Lao at Ban Xang Hai Whisky Village near Luang Prabang, Laos

Sticky Rice awaiting its transformation into lao-Lao at the “Whisky Village”.

3. Wash it in the river.

4. Combine with rice powder and yeast.

5. Place in open-air containers.

6. Add water.

7. Leave to ferment for five to ten days.

Sticky rice fermenting in eartherware pots in Ban Xang Hai whisky village for lao-Lao distillation

Sticky rice ferments in eartherware pots before distillation

8. Add more water.

6. Leave to ferment for another five to six days.

Lao Lao Rice Distillery in Ban Xang Hai Whisky Village near Luang Prabang, Laos

The lao-Lao “distillery” in Ban Xang Hai “Whisky Village”. A serious operation.

7. Transfer to a distiller known as a mo tom lao (effectively just an old metal drum).

8. A consistent temperature must be maintained by constantly adding wood to the fire beneath the mo, patching holes and wrapping it in banana fibre or cotton.

Mo Tom Lao Distiller at Ban Xang Hai Whisky Village near Luang Prabang, Laos

The “mo tom lao” distiller must be kept at the same temperature throughout or the rice burns and the lao-Lao is ruined.

9. Extract alcohol vapour into a “recycled” bottle.

10. Replace with cold water every five to seven minutes.

11. When distillation is complete, mix all bottles together and stir to ensure an even alcohol content.

12. Send it out!

Snake whisky lao-Lao in Vang Vieng, Laos

Snake “whisky” produced at the “Whisky Village” of Ban Xang Hai

You can see me finally pluck up the courage to drink snake “whisky” on Youtube.

After being plied with free samples, we decided to give back to the local economy by stopping at a local shop and buying a round of beers. We sat in the shade around a table of pineapples and whiled away the time shooting the breeze and sharing travel stories…

Drinking Beerlao in Ban Xang Hai Whisky Village near Luang Prabang, Laos

The thirsty travellers stop to drink Beerlao at a local shop in the ‘Whisky Village”. Photo by Marion.

…until our boat driver came looking for us.

Later that Night

We all met up, along with Theresa from Vang Vieng, at Utopia - the main backpacker haunt in Luang Prabang with its lounge seating and volleyball court.

Volleyball Court at Utopia Bar, Luang Prabang, Laos

The volleyball court at Utopia. I remembered thee well.

Utopia brought back a lot of memories for me. Last time I was there, with Jess, a bunch of Americans and Pheung from SpicyLaos, we played volleyball, drank too many cocktails, met Nevo, a great Israeli guy, at some point moved to Lao Lao Garden, drank more cocktails and met three more (not so great) Israelis intent on shagging Jess and the American girls.

Luang Prabang, as with most places in Laos, has a curfew at around midnight. However, there is one place that, for some mysterious reason, is exempt from this rule and therefore has become something of a backpacker legend…the bowling alley! This night in Luang Prabang ended, as most do, with the bowling alley on the outskirts of town.

There was a drunken tuk tuk journey, people were met and forgotten, Beerlao was consumed en mass

Chinese Mafia Bowling Alley in Luang Prabang, Laos

I don’t remember taking this, but this is what a “Chinese mafia” run bowling alley looks like.

…and at around 3.45am, I woke up to find myself passed out on the banks of the Mekong (well, actually a tributary thereof), still in the (mud-caped) bowling shoes.

There is never any shortage of tuk tuks in the bowling alley car park, so, as soon as I’d figured out where I was, I fell into one…

…and woke up the next day in my bed in SpicyLaos with no memory of the journey home.

I’d agreed to meet Jess that day to go to the Kuang Si waterfalls, so with a terrible hangover we were soon being trundled along a dirt road in the back of a pick-up. I remember listening to the stories of an Australian girl who’d been travelling for 10 years and been turned around at the Iraq border, and it was here that I saw my first water-buffalo wallowing in the mud.

Jess told me all about what I’d missed last night – namely the three Israeli guys breaking into our hostel, trying to get into the girls’ rooms and having to be kicked out by the staff.

Rope Swing at Kuang Si Waterfalls near Luang Prabang, Laos

Trying out the rope swing at Kuang Si waterfalls. Hangover forgotten. Photo by Jess.

The waterfalls were beautiful with their opaque, turquoise water tumbling over rocks golden in the patches of sunlight. A dip in that cool water was the best hangover cure I’ve ever had.

I climbed up the slippery mud track to the top, where I discovered a lone Buddhist monk bathing in the serene blue pools and dappled shade. The view of the surrounding Laos countryside – the green hills I love so much – was astounding, and I lingered as long as I could.

Buddhist Monk Bathing at Kuang Si Waterfalls near Luang Prabang, Laos

A Buddhist monk bathing at the top of the Kuang Si waterfalls

Kuang Si Waterfalls near Luang Prabang, Laos

I climbed out on a precarious tree branch to get this view overhanging the Kuang Si waterfalls.

Kuang Si Waterfalls near Luang Prabang, Laos

Beautiful Laos, from the top of the Kuang Si falls

Bamboo Plumbing at Kuang Si Waterfalls near Luang Prabang, Laos

Bamboo plumbing at the Kuang Si waterfalls

After messing around on the rope-swing and generally relaxing at the falls, we visited the black bear sanctuary next-door.

Black Bear Sanctuary near Kuang Si Waterfalls, Laos

There’s a black bear sanctuary next to the Kuang Si falls.

Stick Insect at Kuang Si Waterfalls near Luang Prabang, Laos

Stick insect?

Back in town, I had something to take care of. I walked to the bowling alley (about 50 minutes) to return the bowling shoes and get my boots…Only when I got there, my boots were where I’d left them, but I’d become awfully attached to the bowling shoes.

I walked out with both. I’d been told last night that the bowling alley is owned by the Chinese mafia, which would explain the late closing times, so I was shitting myself as I made off wearing stolen mafia goods.

Yes, it’s stealing. No, I don’t care. Those babies went on to be the most well-travelled bowling shoes that ever came into this world. They out-lived those boots, and another set, and I’ve even climbed mountains in them. They did finally pass away, in some exotic nation that escapes me. May they rest in peace.

Other Things to Do in Luang Prabang

The other waterfalls are the Tad Sae falls. I’ve never been, but I hear they’re equally amazing.

There’s a temple called Wat Xieng Thong that sadly didn’t make it into this story but which blew me away. There’s also Wat Wisunalat, which isn’t so impressive, but makes for a good reason to explore Luang Prabang.

Bridge over the Nam Khan River in Luang Prabang, Laos

A kid silhouetted on a bridge over the Nam Khan

Back in the present day, we said all our goodbyes, bundled Adam into a tuk tuk and a bus to Thailand, and set off ourselves for Vietnam.

Tuk Tuk in Luang Prabang, Laos

Adam was whisked off in a tuk tuk, never to be seen again.

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