Take the Long Way Home

Here we are back in Hong Kong. We are all already having pangs of separation anxiety. I'm not entirely sure what I'll do when I'm not sleeping a mere few feet away from the boys. What if I need to pee in the middle of the night and Sneaky isn't there with his flashlight? How much will I spend FedExing the Fat Kid Belt to Chicago every few days? The answers to many questions are still unclear, but one thing is for sure: it has been an incredible five weeks.

We saw the sun rise over Angkor Wat, climbed the tallest mountain in Vietnam, overnighted in a Laotian village with no electricity or running water, and partied all night on the beach at the Full Moon Party and under a jungle canopy at the Half Moon Party.

I have countless stories to tell, but most of them are much better told in person. So for now, I'll sign off and thank you all for following the crazy adventure this journey has been.

xx, Peaches

Paradise Found: Tong Nai Pan Beach

Fat Kids Don't Share

I haven’t been going a great job of keeping you updated on my Fat Kid exploits, so let’s just summarize by saying that Thailand has brought us to new highs. The reason for this is twofold: first of all, our breakfast is included, and despite it being a truly mediocre breakfast buffet, we certainly make the most of it.

Fritz is an animal at the daily breakfast buffet here at our resort on Tong Nai Pan beach; He piles three fried eggs, some toast, bacon, marmalade, hot sauce, and at least four or five mini croissants on his plate and then mashes it up together. I prefer to start with some fresh fruit, ease into my fried eggs on toast with cheese, and then follow it up with either a pancake or my own little bread basket of banana cake, mini croissants, and sponge cake.

Secondly, we have discovered the best bar/restaurant of the entire trip: it’s called Flip Flop Pharmacy, and in addition to offering a pool table, free wifi, great drinks, and a fantastic right-on-the-beach location, they have the. Best. Food. The chef, Pong, is Burmese. In addition to the fantastic Thai offerings (typical noodles, curries, fried rice, spring rolls, what have you) he makes the most amazing Burmese things you did not know existed. AND here’s the REAL kicker: we did not even notice them on the menu until he suggested we try them, but Pong makes some seriously awesome potato latkes. I am NOT even kidding right now (would I joke around about something as important as food? Seriously, guys.) Needless to say, we have probably eaten about six of the last eight meals there.

Yesterday was truly an epic night for me at Flip Flop: I polished off some Burmese pork meatballs, minced lamb on pineapple, a delicious Thai curry prawn dish, noodles, AND mango with sticky rice for dessert. I took the belt hands down. It was like a TKO before I even sunk my fork into that deliciously succulent mango and coconutty-sweet rice.

Fritz and I are already discussing how and where we might procure an actual, physical Fat Kid Belt. I can already see us e-mailing back and forth, going over everything we ate in one day just to see who won the belt. FedExing that thing back and forth is going

Manishma!

I made a few references in my penultimate post to the many Israelis on this island, promising more on the subject. For those of you unaware of this bizarre phenomenon, there are so many Israelis who vacation in Thailand, that there are actually signs here in the islands in Thai, Hebrew, and English. Koh Phangan reins as the #1 destination for Israeli kids when they finish their army duty, and as a result, much Hebrew is heard on the beaches and in the falafel shops.

These kids are not to be messed with. They drink more than you can, they party harder than you do, and they just finished the army, so they could definitely kick your ass. A typical conversation with one of the many Israelis we have met goes something like this:

Me: Where are you from?
Random Israeli: Israel
Me: Yes, obviously. Where?
Random Israeli: Tel Aviv
Me: Oh, cool. I have family there.
Random Israeli: You are Jewish?!
Me: Yes.
Random Israeli: [incredulously] Both your parents?
Me: Uh, yeah.
Random Israeli: So, why are you not in Israel?
Me: Well, right now because I am in Thailand, and typically because I am American. I live in New York.
Random Israeli: Ahhh, New York!

My favorite is when they try to recruit you to join their army. “You know, you could volunteer!” Then I have to break it to them that I’m actually 26, and then I feel old, because divulging this information causes them to look at me like I’m really old. They follow up their recruitment schtick with, “But it’s fun!” to which I reply something really sardonic like, “Yeah, it’s all fun and games until somebody invades Lebanon,” and then they usually walk away looking mildly offended and mostly confused.

In the immortal words of Lionel Richie: "All night looong...(all night)"

Well, we survived the Full Moon Party. Apologies for not posting sooner, but it took us a few days to recover. All in all, it was an amazing night--definitely one of the best parties I've ever had the pleasure of attending.

For those of you who are not familiar with it, the Full Moon Party is a monthly all-night dance rager (from 10:00 p.m. until 10:00 a.m.) on the island of Koh Phangan. It began over a decade ago and now attracts between 8,000 and 30,000 partygoers each month. Its popularity has spawned the Half Moon Party, which takes place in the jungle instead of the beach, and also a Black Moon Party, which is a big, crazy trance-music fest, from what I understand. Full Moon remains the largest and most popular of these events, attracting deejays from all over the world and featuring multiple dance areas along the beach of Hat Rin and inside the many bars that line it.

Now that I've gotten that out of the way, let me start from the very beginning: We arrived on Koh Phangan after two flights, a loooong layover in Bangkok, and our multiple attempts to hustle multiple planeloads of other travelers into taking a speedboat with us at nearly midnight from Koh Samui (the island we flew to, Koh Phangan has no airport) to Koh Phangan, where the party is. We managed to negotiate the price down and although we didn't get a full boat of 10 passengers, we did pretty well for ourselves, acquiring seven people total (four others.) Our motley crew of late-night seamen included an Israeli (of course...more on them later), a British guy who sails ships to Antarctica, a dude from Singapore, and a girl from Northern Ireland who has been working at DisneyWorld for the past year.

Once on Koh Phangan, we arrived at the hotel we had booked only to find it completely desolate. There was a big sign on the reception door exclaiming a penalty of 5,000 baht (approximately USD $150) for waking up the staff at night. That seemed both excessive and unnecessarily unwelcoming. Although called the Beer Bungalow, (something that had caused me to gasp in horror a few weeks earlier) it certainly did not appear to live up to its name as a haven of fun and debauchery. It was also decidedly further away from the party beach than expected. We left in search of a new place to stay, which on Koh Phangan the night before a full moon, is no easy task.

Thankfully, we managed to find one room at one hotel and a second at another just up the street, both no more than a 10 minute walk from Sunrise Beach, site of the world-famous Full Moon Party. We knew this would come in handy at 6:00 a.m. when we were done partying and ready to crash. Sneaky and I bunked up and Fritz and Antarctica Dude (who was not staying for the party, but instead heading to a yoga resort on the north side of the island) took the room at the Crazy Israeli Trance Dance Party Resort (again, more on that later.)

After checking in at our respective lodgings, we decided to immediately find some fun. At this point, however, Sneaky and I realized we had no way of contacting Fritz; We had both left our hotel room sans mobile telephone (they were dead anyway) and we weren't even sure that Fritz had his on him.

Wandering around town in search of a snack, a drink, and Fritz, we were perplexed by the fact that the place seemed completely empty. We spent a good 20-30 minutes trying to understand where the hell everyone was. We wandered into the "town" part of Hat Rin, a maze of narrow streets, no cars, hardly any mopeds even--just falafel stand after banana pancake stand after falafel stand, interspersed with bars airing episodes of Friends or Family Guy on large televisions.

Finally, we found the beach and it suddenly made sense why all the bungalows and hotels we passed were empty: EVERYONE--thousands of people--were partying right on the beach. And not just some random beach, but one of the most beautiful beaches you've ever seen (even at nearly 2:00 a.m., we were able to decipher that.) We grabbed buckets, the drink of choice in Hat Rin. For those of you unaware of the bucket phenomenon, there are collapsible tables all over the backpacker areas of Thailand, where drinks are sold in beach pails. Basically, you choose a fifth of Thai whiskey or vodka and a mixer or two, like Coca-Cola or Red Bull. My favorite combo is the Smirnoff/Schwepps Lemon Soda/pineapple juice bucket.

Buckets in hand, we hit the party. We eventually (and thankfully) ran into Fritz inside a bar beach called Cactus. As I said to Sneaky, "They are playing Madonna's Like a Prayer. If Fritz is anywhere on this beach, he will be here within minutes." And I was correct. And there was much laughter and rejoicing.

We stayed out until about 5:00 a.m. before we decided to call it a night; After all, this was really just the warm-up for the real thing.

After sleeping most of the day, enjoying a restorative mango shake and some omelets, we prepped for FMP night with foot massages. That was where we learned that the Thai massage place would be open all night during the party. Fabulous. We knew we'd be back.

I got all dolled up in a new dress that I would not mind tossing if it got covered in day-glo body paint (that stuff does NOT come out) and my requisite hippie headscarf. We sat around in one of the Family Guy bars, enjoying delicious pad thai, buckets, and a few beers. We watched at least four episodes, including the one where Peter goes back in time and ends up married to Molly Ringwald and they spoof Back to the Future. Hilarious. [NB: the very fact that there are all these bars in Backpacker Land that show Family Guy all day and all night makes me want to write an episode of Family Guy where the Griffins end up in a bar in Thailand, watching Family Guy. It's very existential, I realize. Try not to let that blow your mind right now.]

We hit the beach a little past 11:00 p.m. and it was already bumpin'. There was a giant fire jump rope which none of us had the cojones to try out, and they were just beginning to illuminate the huge fire sign that read: FULL MOON PARTY, HAADRIN, KOH PHANGAN

On the whole, I was pretty surprised to find that the atmosphere was significantly more chill that I had expected. There wasn't (or rather, I did not notice) any overt or out-in-the-open drug use, and I didn't really feel uncomfortable or unsafe at any point. Mostly, it was just a bunch of body-painted hippies and pseudo-hippies from all over the world (well, mostly Israel), drinking and dancing like maniacs. I have to think there was a non-insignificant number of people people doing cocaine or ecstasy, but I chose to fuel my all-night rave dancing with banana honey pancakes. I had three over the course of the night (OK, one with Nutella instead of honey.)

Generally, the scene was a lot less seedy than I had expected, which was definitely a good thing. It could be that the twin factors of it being low season for tourism and the middle of a worldwide economic recession made for a more tame party with fewer revelers, but I didn't find anything disappointing about it.

We took a break around 3:15 a.m. for a second round of hour-long foot massages, and it was just what we needed to get back out there and dance like the champs that we are. I definitely passed out in that chair, but once she did the Thai massage stretching and gave my spine a few good cracks, I was ready to dance until dawn!

We lost Fritz close to 5:00 a.m., when he took off for some Dr. Falafel and his bed. I am pretty sure he was picking tahini out of his chest hair the next day. Meanwhile, I was being accosted by a very annoying Israeli kid who took forever to shake off. I finally managed to bolt and used it as an excuse to grab another banana pancake, since Sneaky was busy chatting up a British girl.

We stayed until 6:30 a.m., watching the sun rise over the ocean. The beach is certainly called Sunrise Beach with good reason--it's a spectacular spot from which to watch the dawn break.

I had originally thought that the Full Moon Party would be something I'd only ever do once; Much like Preakness, the most fun I'd never want to have again. I would definitely come back another time, but I'd probably want to see what the Half Moon Party in the jungle in like. Maybe I'll just have to stick around here on Koh Phangan for about two weeks... :)

FULL MOON PARTY!

We made it to Koh Phagnan last night after finding four other travelers to share a speedboat with us from Koh Samui. This place is absolutely insane. We partied it up on the beach last night in Hat Rin until about 5:00 a.m., and that's just really the pre-game for tonight: the world-famous Full Moon Party.

Stories and photos to come!

"Get this mother%$#^ing snake, off my mother@&$%ing trail!"

**Mom, before I even begin this story, I just want you to know that no one was hurt.**

Yesterday, we began a two-day romp through the Laotian countryside that was supposed to involve some easy trekking, an elephant ride, and kayaking. It didn't really turn out that way, but it was an adventure nonetheless.

We began our day at the Elephant Village, the starting point for our trek. After our Sapa experience, none of us were really too keen on another intense hike, and we were promised that there was not much trekking involved in this particular tour. You learn to take everything you are told with a grain of salt in Southeast Asia, but we were a bit shocked to learn that our first day would involve 4-5 hours of trekking to get the village where we were to overnight. D'oh.

Thankfully, unlike Sapa, it was a beautiful, partly cloudy and not terribly hot day. We crossed rice paddies, hills, valleys, streams, and enjoyed the vistas through the beautiful countryside just outside Luang Prabang.


Minutes into the trek, our guide (who was great, unlike the Sapa dudes) found a leech on his ankle. While mildly unsettling, it was nothing compared to the LIVE SNAKE we saw on the trail. At one point, our guide stopped dead in his tracks and said, "Whoa, snake!" Just as he said this, Sneaky and I saw a long (probably about two feet) silvery-grey thing dash across the brush. It didn't slither at all--it was VERY fast and appeared to dart into the bushes in a straight line. It was one of the coolest things I have ever seen.

We broke for lunch in the middle of an open meadow, and after one hour of post-lunch walking arrived at the village where we were to spend the night. Hoify is a Khmu (ethnic Cambodian minority) village of approximately 75 families. When we arrived around 3:30 p.m., only the town children and elderly were around; everyone else was working in the fields. They returned around 6:00 p.m.

There are no roads into Hoify, so nothing can be trucked into the village. Everything that comes in must be carried or brought by tractor.



Most people in the village didn't seem too phased by us falang. I imagine they get quite a few tourists coming through. Apart from watching the kids play a traditional ball game, climb trees to pick fruit, the obvious language barrier kept us from more interaction than a wave hello.

Nonetheless, it was really fascinating and uplifting and tragic all at the same time to be in a place where people live such a traditional lifestyle. Laos is one of the poorest countries in the world, and while the NGO presence in Hoify has allowed for the construction of latrines and the harnessing of running water from the mountains into communal bath areas, the poverty can be staggering. At the same time, one realizes that kids are kids, and they can be just as happy playing with a toy car made from garbarge as they would be with a PSP.

Dinner was prepared for us by a widow with three daughters, which is presumably why she was chosen by our NGO-partnered eco-tour company. She runs the three-"room" homestay across the "street" from her one-room house.

After enjoying pork with chilis, bok choy, veggies, sticky rice, soup, and squirrel stew, we cursed ourselves for not thinking to bring along a deck of cards and decided to sample the village's locally-brewed lao lao. The 500 ml beaker we shared was significantly stronger than the stuff we drank at the bowling alley. Our guide told us that it isn't unusual for a Khmu man to drink 1.5 liters of the stuff by himself in one night--the very thought of that nearly made me yak. It also made me realizes why people in rural areas do meth: it's really, really boring to have nothing to do.



Another funny moment was noticing a small child wearing an Osama bin Laden t-shirt. After the three of us gasped, we realized he probably had no idea who the hell was on his shirt, and we were relieved to see his friend in tow in a Scarface t-shirt. There's room somewhere here for a Samuel Huntington/Clash of Civilizations joke, but I'm just too tired to think of it.

All in all, the subdivided thatched hut we slept in (with mosquito netting!) was exponentially more comfortable than Fansipan base camp. Unfortunately, much like in Sapa, we awoke to torrential rains and had to hike the hour back to the Elephant Village in a downpour (thankfully, it was much warmer than in Sapa.) After 20 minutes of elephant riding and still no sign that the rain would clear up, we gave up on the idea of kayaking back into town and tuk-tuked it back.

"Hey, goat! I like your beard. I had a beard like that in A Perfect Storm. You see that movie, goat? Say hi to your mother for me."


Cute enough to make you want to pull an Angelina!

"Smokey, this is not 'Nam. This is bowling. There are rules."

By far one of the most amusing things about Luang Prabang is that the only place to hang out or grab a drink after 11:30 p.m. is the bowling alley. The People's Democratic Republic of Laos has a national curfew of midnight, by which all citizens must abide. However, some establishments are granted special reprieve to remain open "after hours." In LPB, the bowling alley is the only game in town.

The other night, we made like the Dude and hit the LPB bowling alley with our new friends whom we like to call the Doctors Without Borders. A brother-sister-cousin trio, all three are from Florida and in various stages of med school/residency, so they're pretty useful to keep around, in addition to being a lot of fun.

Highlights from the bowling alley include: Fritz bowling a turkey, Sneaky getting Jewy with some Israelis, and all of us having our first "lao lao" experience. Lao lao is essentially moonshine made from sticky rice. It starts out tasting a bit like sake, then flavors out more like tequila, and burns on the way down like grappa. Except that unlike those three liquors I just mentioned, it is not very good at all.

Nonetheless, we bowled a few games, shared many laughs, and generally enjoyed ourselves.

LPB

Photos from Luang Prabang!

Baruch ata adonai eloheynu melech ha olam, please don't let us die on a bridge in Laos. Aaaaamen.

There are many pleasant things about the hotel at which we are staying here in Luang Prabang (LPB.) For example, its tranquil setting on the banks of the Mekong River, or the phenomenally friendly staff who are ready and willing to help us with any question or request we might have.

Less than ideal is that to get to and from the center of town, one must cross a rickety old bridge (very imaginatively called "Old Bridge") on a foot path that hangs over the side, looks straight down into the Mekong below, and has terrifyingly uneven and shaky floorboards.

We said a little prayer the first time we crossed, and have continued to do so each time since. We have yet to conclusively decide whether it's scarier to cross at night or in broad daylight. Sneaky believes that nighttime is worse, since it compounds his twin fears of heights and darkness. I tend to think it's worse during the day, because you can actually see how damn shoddy the thing is. In any event, we try to avoid it whenever possible.

Lady in the street, freak at the buffet

If you ever find yourself in Hanoi, might I recommend the Metropole Hotel's high tea and chocolate buffet. I crushed those tiny tea sandwiches like Godzilla crushed Mothra. The chocolate buffet was something truly extraordinary: tiny pound cakes with shot glasses of Nutella, mini opera cakes, Napoleons, mousses, crepes, and truffles galore.

I should mention that Fritz and I have had quotidien contests for the Fat Kid Award of the Day. We are hoping to purchase an actual belt at some point in the near future, so that the daily Fat Kid Award recipient can properly bask in the glow of victory. I am proud to report that I have won the last two of three contests involving any sort of buffet. Breakfast is quickly becoming my specialty. Kobayashi, you're going down.

I am Woman, Hear Me Roar

One of the more frustrating things about traveling through Vietnam has been coping with the extremely servile culture...towards only men. Until I pointed it out to the boys, they thought it was some kind of coincidence that I was constantly served my food last and waited upon in stores only after their demands had been met.

Not that I'm necessarily 100% cool with the Western "ladies first" tradition, I certainly have my fair share of problems with that as well. However, as a feminist (that's right, I said it; There go my chances of ever being confirmed to the Supreme Court) I found it extremely difficult to deal with my needs constantly and consistently being put behind those of my male traveling partners.

Enough ranting for now. It will be interesting to compare Laos and Thailand to the Vietnam experience vis-a-vis gender issues.

Oh, Fancypants: You minxy little mountain...

Suffice it to say that climbing Fansipan was not the best outdoors experience I've ever had. I should have known when I was handed a pair of purple children's Wellies that this was not going to be a lot of fun...Information that would be have useful the previous day, before we booked.

The climb up to base camp was foggy, steep, and extremely muddy. At times, I sunk almost to my knees in mud, and was definitely thankful for the Wellies. Of course, the downside of them is that--while keeping your feet and ankles dry, clean and free of leeches (yes, a kid I met had a leech on him...gross)--the thin rubber soles are so thin that you feel every single rock, tree root, branch or bamboo stump underfoot. As I write this from a coffee shop in Hanoi two days later, my big toenails still feel bruised enough to fall off.

Also, it rained about 90% of the time, varying between a light mist and moderate showers. So that was great. All our gear was soaking wet by the time we got to base camp, and most of it did not dry overnight because it was so cold.

Base camp was two huts made of tin and bamboo. One had a fire going in it, and the porters made us a pretty impressive dinner feast of bamboo shoots and pork, fried tofu, rice, stir fried chicken, and some other delicacies. The other hut had bamboo "cots"--if you can call them that--lining both sides of the hut. The four of us (Sneaky, Fritz, Cecilia and I) staked out an area, grabbed the warmest looking sleeping bags, and basically slept on top of each other for warmth.

I used to think that I could sleep anywhere, anytime. Trains, cars, planes (usually before take-0ff, even) bars, noisy nightclubs--pretty much anywhere. I will now amend that statement by saying that it turns out that I am unable to sleep on bamboo branches up on a mountain. It is really VERY uncomfortable, and I still have some bruised on my hips and shoulders from where I tried to assume fetal position to keep warm and get comfy. I think none of us slept more than about five minutes at a time, and there was a lot of random waking up and giggling because the whole situation was just so tragically comical. Also, like true Manhattanites, Sneaky and I are both terrified of the dark, and spent a good amount of time worrying about what kind of Blair Witch might await us outside the hut if we had to pee in the middle of the night.

The next morning, after a night of next to no sleep and torrential downpours, I decided that the descent was going to be more than enough to keep me busy, and I decided against climbing the extra 300 meters to actually summit the damn thing. At this point, it was so rainy and foggy, that it was clear we wouldn't be able to see a thing from the top, so I opted to begin heading down with some Canadians who had summited the previous day.

Oh, I should mention that when we had been given the option to summit the previous day, I had said to our guides: "I think it would be better to wait until tomorrow. At least there's a chance we could see something then." To which he replied: "It rains every day this time of year." Once again, information that would have been useful yesterday.

The descent was pretty much uneventful. It continued to rain and we continued to curse the Wellies as we bruised our toes and soles on bamboo shoot stumps and rocks. All in all, it was certainly an adventure. Not one that I think I would recommend, though...