Why do we travel again??

On a long trip like this, it is normal that you have good moments and bad moments – and very bad moments. I guess we have hit the bottom now.

It seems that we are either getting too old or physically too tired of traveling since after every long trip, especially night buses one or both of us is having fever. As it happened, after a night bus from Bangkok to Phuket, 14 hours, we were totally, completely, fully done. Tired like never before, and getting fever. Sasi got very ill, fever more than 39C for several days, and I got truly worried. I was having a bit fever myself, but worse was that my upper back was cramping really badly, there was a lump of a size of a baseball in there and inflammation in the muscles.

It wasn’t all. We were at that point totally broke. We had barely money to have one meal a day, and there were days I got food only to my poor feverish husband to get him better and was left hungry myself. Obviously, we had to buy also medicines, which wasn’t planned in the strict budget. I had to stop smoking to save money (well, my mum was probably happy with THAT), and we couldn’t do anything. Not that there would have been much to do anyhow with a feverish husband in RAINY Phuket. Yes, it was raining most of the days, which didn’t make it any easier.

And Christmas was on the way, which is really hard for me to be away from home. It doesn’t matter how old you will get, I still want to be home on Christmas. I love the season deeply, and normally decorate the first tree already in the end of November. Now I don’t get any of that, and that made me feel blue. Dark blue. And homesick. (Oh, mind you, I have bought Christmas fairy lights from Bangkok, and have been putting them to every hostel room we have stayed. It helps a bit.)

Those days were miserable on the level we seriously thought of going home, simply giving up. There were moments when we were asking from each others the question over and over again: Why do we travel? But when Sasi got better, we figured that we were already so far that we might as well continue to Bali, which has been my dream for years, and to Malaysia in between, which have been Sasi’s dream.

I got the money from my sold articles eventually (although I have to thank my parents of helping us over the hardest part), and all started to be better. Sun was shining again, we managed to go to beach, and Sasi’s fever was finally down, thanks to the strong Thai medicines. We got over with the worst burst of homesickness by eating meatballs, dark bread and other Scandinavian delicacies in Phuket’s Karon Beach, which is almost like a small Nordic village. Thousands of Swedish and Finnish elderly couples or families with children comes with tour operators to this small paradise, so you hear Swedish and Finnish in the streets more than Thai. Normally, I would avoid places like that like hell, but now it felt homey and made me feel a bit better.

Another thing that made me a bit unbalanced was the fact that the last time I had been in Phuket was the tsunami time, when I was working to write the news of the horrible accident. The first days in Phuket, I was having some flashbacks of that, some sort of post-traumatic stress order, but luckily it didn’t got so bad as I was afraid. Like a friend of mine, who got also through all that, said to me: just go to swim, and it will all be good. And so it was. I don’t think I need to think about all of it, ever again.

We decided then to go to Phi Phi island, which was supposed to be a true paradise. I guess it had been, long before the famous movie The Beach was filmed in there. Like one guy said: “After that, there was about five Swedish blond girls on top of every palm tree in the island to look for Leonardo di Caprio”. I don’t know if they ever found their Leonardos, but there definitely was plenty of them still.

We were still a bit strict on our money, so we planned to stay in a dorm in a hostel. A mistake, huge. I got attacked by bedbugs, AGAIN. But worse still was to listen to the Swedish and Australian teenagers having party all night IN the dorm room, having loud (bad) music and smoking pot. I am obviously getting seriously old, but I just couldn’t stand it. Am getting an old, nagging hag. Bless me.

Maiku, now in balance both with bank account and mind.

From Sin city to Sim city!

Our next destination was Thailand and from here we are supposed to start our South-East Asia trip but, definitely we always get complications. The weirdest of them all is usually my beloved Lebanese passport which requires visa applications to get into any country except Lebanon :)

So we went to the Thai embassy in Cairo and things did not go as we expected. They were not willing to be helpful neither issue a visa for a non-resident in Egypt so decision was made to get my ass back to visit home and see my parents and get some Asian visas back in Beirut.

Beirut was a small paradise after noisy crowded and hell-alike Cairo, like a yoga class; I had a guest coming from Cairo, and we decided to go tour the downtown and believe it or not, on a Sunday it was like a ghost town. That busy summer crowd was no longer there, it was just all my Beirut.

No cars, no people, nobody on the streets and the fall colors had taken over the city, yellow and red trees and very nostalgic quiet surrounding in the downtown area. I felt sad that nobody from my friends was there except maybe 2 of the many people I have known since childhood or from school or university.

It was a ghost immigrants city, everybody i asked about was either in Dubai, Doha, UK, France, Canada etc… they all live as soon as they get the chance to go make more $$$ abroad and exploit their business oriented brains. Something nowadays I feel lacking in me!

So, from Lebanon to Thailand was another part of the big journey that gets to be more interesting and get us more to miss home, Finland that is, and gets us to miss having dinner with friends and being in one place again even if there is huge winter storms and lots of snow.

Beirut is nothing like the past, it is slowly walking towards a bit civilized place. Well, of course we Lebanese neither need traffic lights, even if they are installed but come on, what the heck, you don’t need those. The city was very elegant and clean compared to Cairo i can say, and there was some preparations for the Beirut Marathon.

The trip didn’t exclude a visit to sinful Gemmayze where the botox/silicone girls have created their hangout zone and occupied the newly hip area of Beirut, where young and rich and fashionable girls and guys flirt with the night showing their elegance and speaking all kind of foreign languages. Just as if you would be in Milano or NY but on a smaller scale.

Coming to Bangkok was like a big WOW. I had this impression that this part of Asia will be poor and won’t have any signs of being modern and advanced but, to my big shock the skyscrapers were waiting for me when I arrived at night after a long delayed flight of 18 hours.

Bangkok seemed like what I have seen in the movies about Hong Kong, Malaysia, and Tokyo: it has lots of tall buildings and huge organized toll roads and traffic lights and very advanced customer service oriented people and, as they say it in the airport when you arrive: Welcome to the land of smiles!

Well nobody smile for free, but here they are freindly and smiley and they definately know how to be a touristic destination with their cheap delicious food and amazing Thai massage (the real one, not the kind you find in red light districts in Europe).

Oh, about Sim city, remember that game that many of us played when young: that’s how Bangkok looks like really. We are staying in a street called Khao San road, this street which known to be the wildest street of Bangkok. Well, its the place to be for wild Swedish teenagers who keep fucking and puking on the streets. It also attracts many backpackers due to it´s cheap accommodation and restaurants spread into smaller streets and alleys forming like a huge labyrinth where everything forms and folds and unfolds in moments like in that game.

Walking there includes finding the typical Thai dishes sold on the street by Thai people dragging their small movable kitchen on a trolley and, believe me they do the best Pad Thai there. And you get the freshest fruits ever, I had the chance to even try dragon fruits and enjoy looking at other eating deep-fried cockroaches.

The whole are gives you a feeling of being in Sim City. Anyway, its all about the fun of trying new things and discovering new things. Bangkok Sim City of 2009 for sure. All move, all go, all new and all old.

More to come about Bangkok in my next blog, keep tuned to MaikuSasi and we would like to hear your comments and travel tips from Asia.

Sasi

Maiku continues a bit: Its so easy in here after Middle East. No hassle, no shouting, no one stares at my tits. What a bliss. Its so clean, organized, advanced. I just remembered why I fell in love with this city long time ago.

But something has changed: am too old for Khao San road. Especially the cheap guest houses. When I came alone for a few days before Sasi came, I went to this place I had stayed years ago. It was two o’clock in the afternoon, and I could hear clearly an example of Swedish sex life behind the paper-thin bamboo wall, not just uuhs and oohs but… well, ALL. And so did the Thai police officers who had come to write a report of a robbery of another Swedish couple next door. They wrote their notebooks very concentrated and ears red.

In the night I woke up bitten: bed bugs. I had a full-blown attack of really vicious type who bit me even through three layers of clothes. At 5 o’clock I went to sleep in the floor crying since I was so tired after a sleepless night flight from Cairo. In the morning, I woke up with my right eye swallowed closed, and huge itchy spots all over my body.

Maiku's Eye

Maiku's Eye

Packed my bag, changed hostel, bought a huge bottle of pesticide and went to doctor to get an anti-histamine injection to my ass. But I still love Bangkok.

Much ado about nothing – Pharaohs, part 1.

In Cairo, everyone wants baksheesh – money. And preferably without doing anything. We were walking in a middle class neighborhood, when a decently dressed young man walked by. He had one look to my blond hair, and I could hear the click in his head. Eyes lid, hand opened, and ‘baksheesh’ came out of his mouth. And we are talking about a guy who probably had relatively good job, not a beggar at all. Seriously, what is wrong with these people?

Cairo is huge, noisy and dirty – and huge. On our way to Giza, where the Pyramids are, we first toke a taxi for 10 minutes, then metro for 15mins and finally minibus for about 45 minutes. And still we had to walk about 10 minutes.

To get even near the Pyramids its a terrible hassle. Young men try to sell their postcards, crappy souvenirs or camel/horse rides so persistently its really annoying. Baksheesh, baksheesh, baksheesh. Even inside the area there is still some guys offering rides, but it has been calming down, because the archaeological authorities have been banning most of the touts to the site.

What comes to the Pyramids itself, I was somehow disappointed. I don’t know what I expected, or was it all the hassle and groups of tourists, but I didn’t really enjoy them much. And possibly its one of those things of which you have seen so many pictures, posters and fridge magnets that it has suffered from inflation.

We didn’t even go inside to any of them, since I have heard that if you suffer from smallest hint of claustrophobia, its not place to be. And my claustrophobia is a bit more than mild, so I didn’t even want to try to climb steep stairs in a narrow and low corridor, in heath and with hundreds of other people. Even Sasi didn’t want.

Instead, we went to see the Solar Boat Museum just behind the Cheops Pyramid. It was quite interesting how new that several thousand years old boat looked like but, then again, it was made of Lebanese ceder wood. And the planks were so big that the trees themselves must have been hundreds of years old when they cut them.

Sphinx is like one of those TV celebrities: if you have a change to see them in real life, they always appear to be smaller than you thought. And also rather hard to spot in the midst of the admirers. Safinkees, safinkees, buy safinkees, guys screamed piercingly – Arabs (even my husband) just cant say the word right. Which is not wonder as such, since the word is Greek; when Herodotus (the first modern historian and globe trotter) wrote about this marvel, he used a word from Greek Mythology – a beast of half man, half lion.

Original name of the creature is Ra-Herakhti, manifestation with sun god. It carries the face of Khafre, who was a pharaoh 4500 years ago. Its Sesheb Ankh, living image. Later, Arabs have started to call it Abu el-Houl, The Father of Terror (or fear). I never quite found out why.

Greeks also gave a new name for Tekhenu. It is better known nowadays with its Greek name Obelisk – because for Greeks, it looked like spits of kebabs.

Pyramids – done, Sphinx – done. Click, click from the book of must see places in the world. Other than that, I cant really recommend. And also, they DO look better in postcards.

In the weather report for Cairo that day was one word: dust. What kind of weather report is that, I was wondering, but got my answer in the Pyramids. Everything was hazy, due to high pollution and the end of the harvesting season, when farmers burn the fields, and smoke floats heavily even on top of the capital. With all that, all the photos look dust gray. (And you dont want to know what we blew out of our noses in the evening.)

Next day, the weather report was haze. No changes in weather, someone just decided to be more creative. We, on the other hand, were a bit hazy as well after a Halloween party by the Pyramids. After a few days of recovering, we headed for a night train taking us to south.

We arrived to Aswan in the late afternoon next day. The train was only 5 hours delayed, so we were lucky, and the whole trip was around 17 hours. And, after a few hours of sleep, we had to wake up at 2.30AM. The convoy to Abu Simbel would leave at 4.

We were packed to a minibus like chickens. It was really uncomfortable trip in the wee hours of the night, but we didn’t really have other options. Due to Egyptian security rules, tourist are only allowed to go there in convoys. Personally I think its a bit stupid, since it just makes it easier target for terrorists if they want to attack. Everyone knows the timetables of the convoys, and the routes, and all you need is a roadside bomb. There wasn’t really any kind of security forces present. It was just unnecessary and annoying, and also it means that you must buy a tour from a tourist agency, which I think, is the plot behind this all.

So we sat on each others laps, almost literally, for 3,5 hours. Then a stop of 2 hours in the Temples of Abu Simbel, and 3,5 hours back. The temples were magnificent and interesting, but to be totally honest with you, I don’t know whether it was really worth the trip like that.

Back in Aswan, we were so tired that it was getting hysterical. We had booked another tour to see the sights in Aswan, and the first stop was the unfinished obelisk. When we saw the huge block of granite on the ground, we just couldn’t hold it but burst to a hysterical laughter: is this what we came to see, block of a rock?

It wasn’t better in the High Dam of Aswan either. Somehow, you would just expect a phenomenal view, but it was rather lame, and not even so high at all. It looked like a wide peninsula instead.

The day ended good, though. The Isis Temple of Philae was breathtakingly beautiful. It stands in an island on Nile, and you have to take a boat to get there. We were there just when the sun was setting, making all the shadows long and golding the walls and its reliefs. The atmosphere was amazing, and the temple itself a beauty. No wonder Alexander the Great liked it, as well as Romans did. It was also the place where the last hieroglyphs were carved to the temple wall 24th of August, 396, and where Isis was still worshiped in 550 AD, much to a shock of Christian priests. It was the last pagan temple in the Mediterranean area.

Maiku, who suffered not only pharaonic phatigue but a curse of Tutankhamon as well. More about that in the next post.

Following the steps of Moses…

One of the pilgrimages in Middle East is Mount Sinai. This mountain climb of 2285 meter is a multinational experience. I will get there in a while, but before that allow me to tell you about our lazy days on the beach in unholy Dahab.

Dahab is not yet spoiled by mass tourism, its a compact place and can be counted as Egypt’s backpackers heaven: cheap diving and cheap accommodation and even wild parties – and some of the local attraction are the casual riots between Egyptians and Bedouins.

Every night the circle of horny dogs at Seven Heaven Hotel would meet and start their evening with wild wet dreams making bets if this would be the right night. The wild party at Tota or Rush, where beer and alcohol exists, and where foreigners hang out in the evening. The question you might ask is why would they think that there is hope of having anything like that in the middle of a conservative country like Egypt, but then again, what is banned is so wanted – a very well known proverb in the chaotic Arab world.

The sure thing is that Stella beer will be there to warm them and start feeding their horny brain cells with the hope, dreams of shagging a few girls or meeting other single female travellers from western countries. Yup, those were the boys of Dahab. Oh no, I don’t mean the locals but my new friends of lazy lifestyle, Australians, Brazilians, British, French etc…

The boys are not bad boys and they all are harmless, but they had hope that they could turn their idling into a wild party in this beach heaven. It was simply funny to see 10 guys trying their luck with one girl in one of the parties, sounded like wolves camping around their prey.

Now that was most of how Dahab sounded at night and it is no danger nor annoyance, Dahab is, in few words, drunken foreigners and diving freaks and awesome sea, clear clear water as you cannot imagine and hot warm sun.

But away from this little devilish land, you can see a holy mountain, huge as its peak rise all over south Sinai mountain chain, there Ali Baba every night at 11 welcome a bus stuffed of climber ants and tourists from different nationalities.

Ali Baba waits you after you bypass 4 different check-points and show your passport at many occasions to different type of uniformed personnel but you have no worry – after all this is Egypt, safe and tourist friendly aka as land of hassle.

Anyhow, you arrive at midnight to The Monastery of St. Catherine and park your little minivan next to tens of other tourist buses and start hearing the tips and tricks of your beloved guide. Our guide “Ali Baba” was a 19 years old Bedouin that lived his life climbing Mt. Sinai, he was so full of energy since the early morning arrival till to the peak before sunrise which was after all the target of our trip.

Climbing was not hard since we were a team of 14 well fit backpackers, but the number of the crowds, specially Russians, were elderly. The pilgrimage to Mt Sinai seems a very popular for older generations, and I was impressed to see 60-70 years old ladies climbing in that cold height in darkness. Yes! It was cold, I didn’t expect it but was warned ahead.

This is a pilgrimage for religious people because in the past Moses, while he was guiding his people to the promised land, went one night climbing Mt. Sinai where there was this burning bush and he received the famous Ten Commandments from God.

At 4.45 we reached that peak after a long climb and after the last 800 steps. It was just before sunrise. The sunrise was as beautiful as any other place, but I wouldn’t be mistaken if I said that the big number of crowd made a bit of difference. Luckily Ali Baba had his perfect hideout for us, a rock just for us away from the rest of the world to watch the sun rising from the land of the living to the land of the death.

Sasi writing this on the road again!

Laundry day in the bamboo hut

Doing normal daily things sometimes require a lot of effort and creativity while backpacking. You postpone things until the last possible moment since its such an hassle, so usually all our clothes are dirty before we do anything to them.

This is our example of hanging wet laundry. But luckily, it was only about 30 minutes before they were dry, thanks to the strong wind and sun! I have never seen clothes to dry so fast.

Maiku
PS: Uploading this video toke three times longer than the laundry to dry.