I’m not sure what was more uncomfortable, standing there knowing I was being scammed (twice) or peeing out of my butt for two days in a row. Either way, it was all happening in Morocco.
Distilling the essence of “The Western Kingdom” is difficult since I had such a mixed experience, not to mention I was only there for 12 days. My exposure to the country was limited to the specific cities and activities I did.
To start with, I was inundated with shades of orange among the dirt roads and walls of the old cities. That ever-present color palette created the perception of sandy air. It’s like there was a desert nearby or something.
Even though I didn’t have enough time for a proper trip out to the Sahara, I saw a decent amount of barren landscapes on day excursions and train rides. Side note: public transportation a la buses and trains was surprisingly simple and reliable. However, certain passenger trains had small cabins with two rows of seats facing each other. That was quite crammed, when you factor in that many people ignore their ticketed seat assignment and sit wherever they feel like. That being said, my trips were more or less on time and adhered to the estimated duration.
Back to the architecture. The construction of the medinas seemed drab at first, but unique patterns started to reveal themselves upon closer look. The sophisticated detail of mosques and palaces was a joy to admire. Small elements showcased the French, Spanish and Portuguese influences. Outside the kasbahs, modern museums, apartments, and sport complexes were sprouting up in the larger cities. The contrast must be confusing for birds flying overhead.
Apart from the buildings, the souks are a congested tapestry of handmade figurines, colorful spices, knockoff apparel, and…well, tapestries. Though these markets are oft crowded and a risk for pickpockets, each walk through provides an opportunity to see, hear, or smell something new. Continually discovering new stalls, listening to painful negotiations, and inhaling the scent of freshly blended citrus was like being part of a complex ecosystem. I can’t count how many times I was called “Ali Baba” either. Apparently it means “strong man” or something in that ball park. But the definition was given to me by a guy running a scam, so I’m not sure he was a reliable source. Besides the flattering nickname, I was called Spanish, Italian, German, and even Chinese at one point. There’s a first time for everything, I guess.
Speaking of the people, this is another area where I’m hot and cold. The proprietors of the hostel I stayed in were incredibly generous, intelligent and interesting. Their easygoing vibe set a good standard at the beginning of my time in Marrakech.
From there, my impression began to deteriorate. In the streets and souks, I feel like they saw foreigners as walking dirham. While one vendor could be aggressive about getting your business, another would stand firm on an outlandish price. If it wasn’t someone trying to sell you something, it was a deceitful “friend” attempting, and sometimes succeeding, at wrapping you up in an elaborate con.
One contingency of people that were completely pleasant were the ex-pats. In every city I visited, there seemed to be a healthy community of middle-aged French or Spanish couples. Perhaps they’re content with life because they moved to a place where their retirement money will have a longer runway. Regardless, both groups are navigating the mixture of cultures with class.
*Mint tea photo courtesy of Jud Mason
To end on a high note, I have to mention the cuisine. I’m talking about tajine. I’m talking about cous cous. I’m talking about mint tea. I was either unfamiliar or uninterested in all of those things before my visit. Now, I’m an avid fan. It doesn’t get much better than spiced meat and vegetables slow-cooked in a special clay pot. As a shocking revelation, mint tea was the preferred beverage of choice between my friend Jud and I. Not beer. Somehow not beer. I can’t forget about the abundance of shawarma as well. Always delicious, occasionally detrimental to the digestive tract. It was a staple meal for us, while also being ridiculously affordable.
The cost of food and beverage in Morocco is actually an interesting topic — there was an incredible range in price depending on the establishment. It’s not groundbreaking that street meat was cheap, around $2.50 USD for a wrap with fries and tea. Alternatively, a meal at a nicer restaurant was closer to $15-$20. Still a reasonable price when you compare that to an outing back home, but it’s expensive when you’re on a traveler’s budget. Lastly, a liter of beer was over $10. Hey, I never said I didn’t have any beer. That’s almost an Oktoberfest rate and I found it absurd. It went down easy though.
So, now you might be asking yourself if I would recommend a trip to Morocco. Honestly, it’s difficult to say. Just because I had a mediocre experience doesn’t mean everyone will. I know people that have thoroughly enjoyed themselves. I will say this: my next jaunt to Africa will be elsewhere. Maybe I would have a different opinion if I had more beer and less diarrhea.
By the Numbers
Days in Morocco: 12 AirBnBs: 3 Public Transportation Rides: 10 Camel Rides: 1 Medinas Visited: 4 Barbershops Seen: Infinite MAD Spent: ~$3,889.71 USD Spent: ~$403.24 (Conversion rate of 9.646)
For those interested in visiting one day, here’s a list of where I went and how I ranked stuff: (click the top left button of the map to expand the list view)
Meat and potatoes. Pierogi. Sometimes cabbage when it’s wrapped around meat.
Ok, there’s a little more to the Polish cuisine than that, but it’s still very hearty, which is also a pretty good description of the people. Direct, organized and hard working. Over the month+ I spent in the country, I met a decent amount of natives. They all seemed highly motivated with busy schedules. Unless they were a żul — a homeless person that drinks in the park. I got called that one night, so that’s a nice look at the current trajectory of my life.
My introduction to Poland came via a moderate-sized city called Szczecin, two hours east of Berlin. Yes, it’s just as difficult to pronounce as it is to spell (a general rule of thumb you can apply to the entire language). In Szczecin, I joined up with the people involved in my week-long Workaway at an English language camp. Sascha, the coordinator, was from the US but living in Poland for the past 7 years and my fellow volunteers were from Australia, New Zealand, India, Hong Kong, and various parts of the UK. We were given an informal tour of the city, which gave us a chance to get to know each other a bit. The next day, we left for camp.
NativesWorld 2019 took place at a “palace” near a lake in a small village. There were a little over 30 kids, ranging from 10-17 years old. Our days consisted of one-on-one conversations, group meals, games/activities, and differing night entertainment. It was actually a lot more exhausting than it sounds. If the English-speaking volunteers were tired at the end of each day, I can’t imagine how the Polish kids felt. For the most part, they all had a solid grasp on the language and were excited to communicate about any random topic. It was fun getting to connect with the youngsters and the staff throughout the week. At the end of each day, the volunteers went down to the dock and chatted while the sun finished setting. That gave me an opportunity to “stitch up” one of my roommates, Tim, who was from New Zealand and taught me that term. I still don’t think I’m using it correctly. Anyway, once the week was over, the group of mentors had a very aggressive night out back in Szczecin, as if the 7 days of not drinking at camp was the longest drought we could endure. Good times.
In addition to the teaching responsibilities, I was also shooting photos and video as a freelance gig for Sascha. Freelance has been creeping up recently, which is a minor, but incredibly helpful income stream that replenishes my coffers to keep me traveling.
My next endeavor was a month-long Workaway at a very well-located hostel in Kraków. It was a 32-bed accommodation with a small but social kitchen and common room. The shifts were in super manageable 3-hour increments; either putting out breakfast, mid-day cleaning, or night watch. While I was there, there was at least 4 other Workawayers at a time. Since our work was low-key, we had plenty of time to hang around and chat about random topics. I got into a few one-sided, yet hilarious conversations with an intelligent mid-20s Scotsman named Jack. His smarts also helped us to 2 pub quiz victories, a valuable pathway to free beer and food.
Other than that, I kept a relatively chill profile over the month. There was a 24-hour convenient store directly under the hostel which made things a little too easy. I was based in the Old Town (Stare Miasto in Polish) so everything was in walking distance. Hence, most of my outings involved walking around and enjoying the city. And what a city. Kraków is the second biggest in Poland, but notably amazing because the medieval center has remained largely intact. There’s an impressive city gate, a castle on a river, a cloth trading hall and several cathedrals. On top of the old buildings, there’s also a ton of history in the Jewish quarter and areas surrounding the city, mainly because of the German takeover at the beginning of WWII. The Oskar Schindler Factory Museum (one of the best museums I’ve ever been to), gives a comprehensive account of the German occupation. As you move through the exhibits, it really takes you on a journey from 1939-1945.
The Auschwitz camps are also an hour’s drive away. The museum site tells the story of how the concentration and extermination camps were formed. You can walk into several buildings to see the confiscated belongings, cells of the first gassed prisoners, and most disturbingly, something like one ton of leftover human hair. If that doesn’t make you shudder, there is an abyss occupying the space where your heart should be. Next, you can go to Auschwitz II-Birkenau and be in awe of the sheer scale of the place. The expansive camp was home to 174 barracks and 4 crematoria. Trains brought people straight to the “death platform,” where approximately 80% were immediately sent to the gas chamber. I was there on a hot day where there is no cover of shade. I can only imagine how awful it was for the prisoners to have to work in those conditions, with such little water and food rations, and then have to sleep 4 to a tiny bed in a building of over 700. Not to mention the winter months, having to strip naked and wait outside the shower building for up to 5 hours. It’s astounding to imagine the level of evil required to put other humans through that.
On a lighter subject, there’s also a salt mine within a short public transit ride. Jack and I went one day to see the underground, unexpected amazement. We went on a 2 hour tour and only saw 1% of the mine. The thing must be absolutely massive. At our deepest point, we were over 400m (~1300ft) below the surface. There was a full blown cathedral in there as well. I didn’t lick the walls, but I did taste some random liquid runoff. In retrospect, that was probably the more risky maneuver.
Another memorable event was attending an experimental music festival in Katowice. I went with my friend Magda, who I’d been messaging for months before getting to Kraków. We didn’t know what “experimental” meant, so it was a toss up. Up until a few days before, I thought it was a day time thing in a field. Come to find out it started at 9pm and was mostly inside at a former industrial space. We had 3:15am bus tickets back, but were hoping it was going to be good enough to revise those arrangements. Indeed it was. On the whole, the music was electronic, sometimes a bit too house/trance, but that didn’t stop us from dancing for 5 hours straight. We eventually got back to Kraków at 8am.
One short week later and I was on another bus leaving the city. My time there was simultaneously fast and slow. I sort of got lulled into the idea that I didn’t have to rush through doing things because I had a whole month. Of course now that I look back on it, I could have accomplished more. How often is that my refrain? Just about always. Granted, I did a decent amount of freelance work during my down time at the hostel. The good news is, I tackled the top 3 things that were on my list. Everything after that can be considered a bonus.
Three nights in a row. Or should I say three mornings in a row?
Berlin is well known for its incredible club scene. I’ve heard from many people across my travels that Berlin’s nightlife is the best in Europe. There’s one particular spot, Berghain, that has a party from Friday night until Monday morning — yes, non stop — with a 3 hour long queue and a notorious bouncer named Sven who refuses entry to people that he doesn’t “see potential in.” It’s like that. Even with this insight, I could never be fully prepared for what I was about to experience.
I arrived on a Monday evening with a reservation for a few nights. I didn’t have to be in Poland for a week so I wanted to see what the vibe was before booking a ton of days.
The first night was quiet. Settling in.
I met two Kiwi girls in my hostel dorm and went on a walking tour with them on Tuesday morning. This was me essentially knocking out the tourist attractions quickly: the Brandenburg Gate, the Memorial to the Murdered Jews of Europe, Hitler’s Bunker (which is now fittingly a parking lot and place for dogs to shit), Checkpoint Charlie and a few other squares with either cathedrals or historical buildings. I went to the Museum Island without entering any of the museums, then I went to Alexanderplatz to find the rest of the tourists.
I got back to the hostel in the early evening. That’s when the party train started pulling away from the station.
The two Kiwis and I played some drinking games with a group of 3 Canadians. The night got away from us a bit as we took a field trip to a weird park that’s well known for people buying drugs. It was kind of a strange night, but I could tell there was fun to be had so I extended my room to make it a full week.
The following day was spent doing life admin I’m pretty sure. Then in the afternoon, things got going again. Several 2 for 1 Carlsbergs were involved. Eventually it came time to decide on a next move. The general consensus was going to a park to continue drinking beers. The two Kiwis had an alternate plan. They wanted to go to some “sex club” with a “creative” dress code. I had no idea what any of this meant. Though I was hesitant at first, I found myself throwing on my elephant pants from Thailand and an inside out tank top. I figured it would be a spectacle if nothing else.
As we were assembling outside, 3 new people spontaneously joined us. Kal (Singapore) had just arrived at the hostel and basically only had time to drop his bag off. Felipe (Brzil) and Jie (China) also gladly accepted the invitation for a night out.
The thing is, we had no idea what Kit Kat was about. I don’t think any of us took time to interpret what a “sex club” was. When we got to the location, we saw a small line of people waiting to get in. Most of them were dressed in leather. It was only a short wait before we were standing in front of an imposing female bouncer in a fetish-like get up. We were nearly turned away as the others looked a little too normal for the erotic/creative entry requirement. I went in not knowing if they would be following after me. As I finished paying the door fee and “coat-checking” my shirt and cell phone, I noticed them come through the door. Sweet.
And then…wow. It was indeed a spectacle. “Erotic” is an accurate word. I guess. But I think it short changes the situation. Throughout the various rooms of this club, you could easily find nudity, a toy station (with active whipping and mild electrocution), drugs being blatantly sold in the bathroom, a pool for skinny dipping, and various dark corners where people were unabashedly having sex. My entire group was blown away.
Not physically.
We met a girl from Korea named Robin who hung out with us the entire night. Felipe and Jie left after about two hours of dancing. The whole thing was a bit of a blur. What I do know is that I got back to my room at 8am in time to see off the two Kiwi girls who inspired the entire excursion. Apparently they left at 3:30am and went to a different club.
I’m curious if I’ll ever have an experience that shocking and entertaining ever again in my life. Insane.
Since I didn’t really go to bed until around 10:30am and it was completely light out and hot as hell on the 4th floor of this hostel, I only really slept for a couple of hours.
I went downstairs and wandered around the grocery store where nothing looked appetizing. I returned to the hostel and posted up on the patio beanbag chairs. Gradually, the group reconvened, with a few additions here and there. For hours, we did nothing but sit there and chat.
As was becoming tradition, there was a clarion call for evening plans. Even though we were mostly sober, it was time to hit the town again. The familiar 4 of myself, Kal, Felipe and Jie were joined by Robin and Hassan (India). Matrix was the first stop of the night as that was probably the most popular option by word of mouth. It was also the cheapest to get into.
And, there was probably a reason for that. I thought it pretty much sucked. There were 3 different rooms with different music but it was all such a generic and uninteresting vibe. Of course we were coming off a gnarly first foray into Berlin clubs, but this wouldn’t have even been good for Richmond. Hyperbolically harsh, maybe, but I’m going with it.
Somehow we managed to remain for a few hours. Our crew thinned out to just me, Kat and Robin. We decided to bounce over to another spot. We’d been told great things about another nearby place called Suicide Circus. At this point, I think it was 4am. We went and stood in a 30 minute queue before entering.
Once we got in, we realized it was a pride event, possibly to kick off the festivities for the weekend. The music situation was much better, which meant we trance-ally techno’d out for another couple of hours.
After we snapped out of it and/or were too tired to continue moving our feet, we stepped out into the daylight like vampires into the sun. Another 8am outing. Seemed like I always had 30,000 steps from all of the dancing. Hilarious.
Essentially repeat the new night routine that was now happening in the morning. Sleep for 2 hours. Zombie through the grocery store. Slump into a beanbag chair.
The Carlsbergs came out at some point in the afternoon, which was now rebranded “morning.” Brendan and Jayden (New Zealand) entered the fray. There ended up being a group of about 9 that joined forces to rule some Friday night activities. Where the energy was coming from, I have no idea.
Watergate was our primary destination — another club with a reputation for being selective. We received what I would characterize as a mild, but fair talking to before being allowed in by the bouncer. I think he let us in mostly because the real party hadn’t kicked off yet. Either way, we were in.
The set up was a medium-sized room on the main floor and a cozy dance floor on the ground level. The unique factor was that there was one wall of all glass behind the DJ so you could look out and see the illuminated city on the river. There was also a deck outside whenever it was time for a breather.
There were two particular DJs that crushed their sets and showered the crowd with silky vibes. While this was happening, around 5am, you could see the orange of the sunrise starting to crest over the buildings. It put.a smile in my heart and on my face. Euphoria. The ecstasy probably helped too.
A new DJ started at 7am and by that time, the group was fading. As we started to head out, people were filtering in to begin their after parties. Dear God, this is real life somewhere in the world, and it’s called Berlin.
Thus concludes the tale of clubbing three consecutive nights until 8am.
Surprisingly, I wasn’t feeling miserable. At least in my mind. Realistically, my physical state was probably something akin to a wet rag that’d been tossed into some dank corner to dry all wrinkled and crusty. Description bonus.
If you had to guess, what do you think I did the next day?
The correct answer would be beanbag main stay for like 10 hours. The most unfortunate thing was that Kal had forgotten to extend his room and didn’t have a bed. When we got back, he had to pack his stuff and check out. He didn’t get to sleep at all, which is devastating. I couldn’t even imagine. Berlin took it out of him so much that he ended up buying a plane ticket back to Singapore for the next morning.
Suddenly, it was just me and Felipe. He left early the following morning and then I was solo again. They days evaporated in a flash.
I felt it then and I feel it now — that lifestyle is not sustainable. Obviously. For all the incredible cultural movements and openness Berlin has, I couldn’t move there due to the fact that the nightlife would be an unrelenting siren. I think I know myself pretty well and my current assessment is that I wouldn’t be able to harness the proper amount of self-control needed to manage the weekends out. It’s just too enticing and captivating. Even writing this now is making me want to go back and explore all of the other clubs we didn’t get to. Dangerous.
By the way, that’s not all I did in Berlin. I managed to somehow fit in a walking tour about the Third Reich and another one about street art and counter culture. I learned a lot of facts about the SS and David Bowie that I’ve subsequently forgotten. Oops.
I spent my last day admiring the East Side Gallery and casually strolling around listening to music. I was in a totally content state, replaying the tornado of unbelievable moments while the tram lines and green domes of the city dotted my environment.
Toward the end of the day, a huge rain storm rolled in. A classic literary trope that washed everything away and presented me a clean slate for a new adventure. That week in Berlin won’t be so easily erased, though.
When did we first get to Brussels? The end of May. Wow. Can’t believe it’s been that long already.
Andrew and I got off our bus and met up with a few people at the AirBnB where our group of 15 would call home for the weekend. It was a very eccentric place. There were a lot of mannequins and old time knickknacks everywhere. Interesting decor choices for sure.
Jud and his band mates arrived a few hours later. After a few beers at the apartment, we went out to find some food at Hip Square, a semi-central hangout place with a bunch of restaurants and bars surrounding Saint Catherine’s cathedral. It was a popular spot, with tables and people spilling out into the cobblestone area. As it was still light out until almost 11pm, we stayed there for a while before heading back.
A few of us hung out in the sketchy street catching up when the final group of festival goers arrived. Time went on and we eventually got chastised for making too much noise so we turned in.
The band were first to leave in the morning and then our clan of 9 got breakfast and caught the train out to Zottegam. We disembarked, and had a 30 minute trek through the small town. As we were walking, Erin and I ran into an older gentlemen who was curious where we were from. He was a resident who was sometimes a guest professor at UVA. It really is a small world. We continued down some neighborhood streets and dissected a few wheat fields before finally ending up at Dunk!Festival.
We had about 6 hours to spend between the main stage and the forest stage until Gifts From Enola played. It was a small festival but a pretty cosy setup. The band did an interview for the local radio station and then had fans coming up to them saying very complimentary things. One guy from Spain said they changed his life and got him into the entire post rock genre of music. A loyal follower since the MySpace days. Incredible on all accounts.
When it came time for them to play, it was epic. The sound was solid, the performance was great and the light show was ridiculously on point. Really good crowd turnout and support as well. I felt proud to know them. Unfortunately we had to hurry out to catch the last train back to Brussels without being able to congratulate the band. They were able to stay overnight and enjoy themselves.
DUNK!FEST ALBUM
The next day our group of misfits started with a Belgian waffle and had an impromptu tour of a few notable city sights — Grand Place and Manneken Pis to be specific. The little boy peeing is really little. He was dressed up for us though, which is something.
We hung out in a park until we were joined by Gifts. After a few hours chilling, we wandered back to Hip Square and split our time between a few different seafood restaurants and beer joints. Brown bars are a Belgian staple — kind of a dive bar, but known for their old wooden construction, dim light and smelly toilets. This wording comes from a city map, but I can verify. The insane thing is each beer was served in a specialized, branded glass for that particular beverage. At every bar. That’s dedication. And an 8.5% tripel was €3.80, which would’ve easily been $8 in the US. Sauce.
The following morning, the group separated into smaller factions and departed for different destinations. Andrew and I hung out with the band until the afternoon as they were the last to leave.
Once we said our goodbyes, we caught the metro down to the southwest part of the city and did a self-guided tour of Cantillon, a 100+ year old brewery using open air fermentation to make lambics. Read: more Belgian beer. Then we returned to the city center and walked around for a bit. We had some insane sandwich called a mitraillette for dinner (hamburger + fries on a baguette), a sweet waffle for dessert, and ended with a flaming absinthe shot at Delirium Village.
Andrew’s flight back to Richmond was the following afternoon — a sad departure. We had an awesome time clowning around. It would’ve been awesome to keep it rolling for another week. Or indefinitely. Whichever.
I spent the subsequent days catching up on some things and trying to arrange my future plans.
I was lucky to meet two generous girls, Amanda (a Canadian working in Belgium) and Aline (a Belgian, well, living in Belgium). Look at you helping me out, Tinder.
I hung out with Amanda a few times, mostly just working and chatting. We went out for a meal of signature Belgian dishes once. I had the Flemish stew, which was ballin. It also happened to be a place that served this beer where the recipe had been lost for 200 some years, so that was a bonus. She charged the entire dinner to her company as well. Extra bonus.
Aline and I met for a few beers one night and got late night frites. She very kindly welcomed me to couchsurf at her place for a few days, a helpful break for my travel finances. Very lucky situation. We watched some movies and the Women’s World Cup and snacked. One night, we went to watch a band at a microbrewery. Beer again. She was fun and open to hosting me longer, but her twin sister was returning from a year and a half abroad, so I thought they should have a chance to spend some time together.
This inspired me to take a 3 day trip to Ghent. It was a short train ride away. A very medieval, historical city that was active from the university there. I went on an evening walking tour my first night to get a bit of the backstory and significance of some landmarks. I learned that Ghent, through Charles V, was basically in control of almost all of Western Europe in the 1500s. Though a lot of the buildings were from that era, most of their facades had been refurbished sometime during the 20th century. Still, there was a castle, several cathedrals and an infamous bell tower which all looked outstanding.
The weather ended up being miserable for my last two days there, but I got a 48-hour city pass to grant me access to the cultural places. I visited two of the art museums, the design museum, the industry museum where they showcase the history of their textile and graphic design processes. I got a bird’s eye view of the city from the top of the Belfort and was able to scope The Mystic Lamb in St. Bavo Cathedral, which is the most stolen piece of art in the world. Unfortunately, I was a few minutes too late to enter the castle, and I missed out on the boat ride due to rain. I crammed a good amount of activities into the two days though. Definitely made the pass worth it.
Overall, my Belgian experience was largely a tour of beer, with a bit of music and culture sprinkled in. Bruges and Antwerp will have to wait until next time.
After Ghent, I went back to Amsterdam to stay with Joyce, who I met in Bali. I wasn’t exactly sure how long it was going to be but I was hoping to stretch it until the 25th of June. I ended up falling into another lucky situation. Through her amazing group of friends, I was hooked up with an apartment and a bike of my own for an entire week.
So, over the course of the 11 days, there was a lot of cycling, an after party with perfect vibes, a free canal cruise, a basketball tournament, a Couchsurfing meet up, and more general exploration. If this is the way my travels go for the next few months, I might have to quit while I’m ahead. Way ahead.
I’m trying to pinpoint what the universe is balancing out with this run of good fortune. There was that one scam in Bali. But I’m not sure if that was horrific enough to warrant this amount of positive action. Or, maybe it’s house money and I’m due for some bad luck in the future. I’m not going to be that pessimistic. I’ll just accept that things are working out for me right now and continue to ride the wave.
Somebody told me that Thailand was called “The Land of Smiles.” For the most part, it felt like that was only when people wanted something from me. I did encounter one smile in particular that was heart melting. I’m saving those details for the memoir though.
I suppose the smiles could still be a work in progress. Adult braces were popular. Same goes for nose jobs and fake boobs/gender modifications (ie ladyboys). I never had an in-depth conversation with a local about their take on that phenomenon. But the sex culture is so prevalent and open. I think Pattaya is the prostitution capital of the world. I was given a heads up to steer clear so am only able to speak anecdotally. I can, however, speak first hand to how Tinder was sort of categorized based on location.
Chiang Mai – Primarily girls working in massage parlors trying to get business.
Phuket – “Freelance” aka service girls.
Bangkok – Normal Tinder. Decent amount of matches that are pretty much dead ends.
On multiple occasions, I heard people mention so-and-so having a Thai girlfriend. Seemed like a common concept. I’m curious to get more insight on that and the ladyboy prevalence when I return.
Along with orthodontists and plastic surgeons, 7-11 owners are making a killing. I’m highly considering becoming a franchise member. It would be a guaranteed passive income. In some places, there are stores directly across the street from one another. This is not an exaggeration. It’s a surefire investment.
Other miscellaneous observations:
Umbrellas are for sunny days.
They cut with spoons.
Vendors are less pushy than other neighboring countries.
The public transportation system was pretty good.
Thailand is a very strange shape.
I wasn’t as nomadic across the country as I would have liked to be. And I didn’t have all that much time to thoroughly digest a place. I missed out on a lot of activities for sure so perhaps I’ll have a longer list the next time I visit.
One of Thailand’s unique attributes is that it provides diverse landscapes and attractions. From the mountains and canyons of the north to the tropical beaches in the south, you could spend time trekking with elephants or boating to a picturesque and private blue water haven.
Wherever you prefer, there’s sure to be a temple nearby. Gold-wrapped and ornate, the wats in Thailand offered a unique Buddha or structure to help differentiate them from one another. Faith was strong and on display everywhere, down to a cashier bowing with praying hands to every customer. That’s what makes the promiscuity and sultry experimentation such an intriguing contrast.
Perhaps my biggest indulgence during my time in Thailand was the food. I neglected to take a cooking class, but I partook in enough street food to make up for it. The depth of flavor was extremely inviting. Curry and Pad Thai options were addictive — this coming from a person who didn’t rate any Thai cuisine before traveling. Khao Soi is a must try if you ever find yourself in Chiang Mai.
A piece of hearsay I became privy to was that tourism seemed to be slowing down. I was there during low season (and don’t have another trip to compare it to), so I can’t offer an opinion on that. I will say that the people seemed to be more confident and audacious. Perhaps that could be attributed to more exposure with foreigners. The integration of western concepts was much more seamless here than any other Asian country I’ve visited. The prices reflected that as well. Whether or not that changes with a fluctuating tourism industry, only time will tell.
By the Numbers
Days in Thailand: 15 Planes, Trains, and Buses: 8 Islands Visited: 5 Massages: 2 Street Food Meals: 12 Temples Visited: Lost Count THB Spent: ~20,857.01 USD Spent: ~$662.74 (Conversion rate of 31.4709)
For those interested in visiting one day, here’s a list of where I went and how I ranked stuff: (click the top left button of the map to expand the list view)
Favorite Attractions: 1. The Grand Palace 2. Koh Phi Phi 3. Doi Suthep 4. The Marble Temple 5. Wat Chedi Luang 6. Wat Pho 7. Koh Khai Nai 8. Khaosan Road/Bangla Road 9. The Golden Mount 10. The Big Buddha (Phuket)
Lastly, below is my “best of” album. This country has a lot more to offer than what I captured but hopefully I’ll be back when I’m a bit more advanced in my photography skills.
I was in Thailand for two weeks and it’s been over two weeks since I’ve written anything about it, so here’s the most comprehensive play by play I can swing.
I took the #9 sleeper train from Bangkok to Chiang Mai to start. It’s a relatively new service, so the train was very clean and comfortable. I traveled 2nd class, which meant an air conditioned car with a bunk and privacy curtain. It made the 13 hour journey a breeze. Almost literally, because I was getting a little chilly from the AC — something that is rarely, if ever, said in this part of the world. There was an older Chinese gentleman that chatted me up in the morning before we arrived.
At 7am, we pulled into Chiang Mai. Since I couldn’t check into my room yet, I did a little bit of exploring. I was staying just outside of the old city — there is legitimately an ancient square perimeter wall delineating the city center.
Even though Chiang Mai is a popular destination in northern Thailand, there weren’t really any skyscrapers or a traditional downtown. On first glance, it was a comfy place. I saw some nice, modern apartments while walking down a few alleys. I quickly had the thought I could live there…without having seen any of the surrounding areas. I suppose it makes sense because I found out later that it’s the digital nomad capital of the world. I believe they’re mostly concentrated in another neighborhood that I ventured through a few days later.
That evening, I settled into my room and chatted with a few other travelers there. Me and Mike, a future digital nomad from Canada, went to a nearby night market that evening to try some stewed pork leg from “The Cowboy Hat Lady,” who has an infamous street food stall, possibly in part to Anthony Bourdain’sParts Unknown episode (RIP).
In the morning, I woke up early for a half-day visit to an elephant sanctuary that was over an hour drive outside the city. A group of 17 of us got to feed, trek, bathe and swim with 5 elephants, 3 of which were youngish. The place was ethical in that they never forced the elephants to do anything they didn’t want to do. The owner also explained that culturally, riding elephants isn’t really that inhumane (he compared it to a mosquito landing on a human’s arm), but in certain areas, the elephants are being worked 24 hours a day hauling lumber and whatever else. Putting them into a more natural habitat and allowing them to live at will is obviously a better situation though.
It was intimidating at first to be around such large and imposing animals. They wanted every banana immediately. Eventually when we were bathing and swimming with them, it was awesome. I was much less worried about being stepped on even though I couldn’t see where exactly they were under the water.
That evening, Mike and I took a trip to Doi Suthep which is a very prominent Buddhist temple up on a mountain. Our plan was to take some pictures and catch the sunset. Sadly, it was pretty overcast, but the temple had a lot of interesting nooks and crannies. There was also some kind of ceremonial dance going on that we weren’t expecting. A very unique happenstance.
When we got back into town, we ate some delectable Khao Soi, the region’s popular dish, consisting of chicken coconut curry and egg noodles. So rich and savory. I snagged this a few more times at various restaurants before I headed south.
We made the rounds for a while and then submitted to the heat. I made a tattoo appointment and got a massage before retreating inside.
The subsequent day, Mike and I set out to check out some of the temples within the old city. Temples on temples on temples. I don’t think it’s a fair argument to say once you’ve seen one you’ve seen them all. There are a lot of similarities between the ones that I’ve visited, but there’s also usually something very unique to draw your attention. In Thailand, specifically, there’s always some kind of gold-wrapped structure in the middle that gives a really grand feeling.
That night Mike and I went to the Muay Thai fights at the local stadium. I didn’t feel great about it. There were 6 bouts and for the first 4, the fighters seemed like kids. The betting amongst the locals was an experience to witness. I didn’t risk my own money, but I saw a British guy find success a few times. At the end of the night, two guys/teens got KO’d and one kid maybe broke his arm. There was barely anybody there to spectate too.
For my last full day in Chiang Mai, I wandered around Nimmanhaemin (digital nomad area), ventured into their swanky shopping mall, and got a sak yant tattoo.
I was turned onto the concept by Kaitlin, who I met in Cambodia and toured Angkor Wat with. A sak yant is a magical Buddhist design that is blessed by a monk. There are many different designs with different meanings and required body placements, and there’s a set of rules that accompanies receiving one.
Originally, I wasn’t planning on getting any tattoos abroad, primarily so I could use that money on travel. But the way these tattoos are delivered was something I wouldn’t be able to get at home. Traditionally, a monk would use a bamboo rod and needle to apply the design by hand using a dotting method. This particular shop used stainless steel for sanitary reasons — a call that I appreciated. Apparently so did Angelina Jolie. I found out she got a few done at the same shop.
Anyway, the design I decided on means kindness, compassion, peace and love. The experience wasn’t as formal or ceremonial as I thought it would be but I’m still really happy I did it. The tattooing process was probably about 30 minutes. It felt about the same as a normal tattoo, in my opinion. The most impressive thing was the speed and precision. It’s definitely imperfect since it was done by hand, but that’s part of the charm and authenticity. I initially wanted a different design and placement but I’m stoked on what I received.
Following the fresh ink, I caught an amazing sunset from the hostels rooftop bar and prepared to catch an early flight in the morning.
For some reason, there are no direct flights from Chiang Mai to Phuket, so I spent practically a full day traveling down to one of the islands off the west coast of the country.
I was staying in Patong Beach which I found out was kind of a party town. Bangla Road was a shorter version of Backpacker Street in Saigon — an insane amount of people, bars, performers and vendors all turning out at night to create a crazy spectacle. This time, it included a more noticeable amount of ladyboys.
The hostel I was staying in was nice, but very quiet. Maybe 10 people staying there total. Since it wasn’t quite the social environment I was looking for, I hopped on Tinder to see what I could find. I ended up meeting two different girls the first night and it basically went downhill from there.
One of them took me on an impromptu visit to two popular sights on the island – the Big Buddha and Chalong Temple. Then I treated her to a bbq buffet to repay the kindness. That was an experience because it’s an all-you-can-eat situation that you have to cook at the table yourself. There was varying types of meat in containers everywhere, so I tried not to think about the sanitary standards as best I could.
We returned to Patong and talked on the beach for a while before calling it an evening. It was a really good afternoon/night. Like a silly goose, I rearranged my plans to extend my stay.
There wasn’t much in the immediate area, and I couldn’t spend time in the sun or water because of the new tattoo, so my activity options were limited. It was a consideration I ignored while following a good feeling.
A few days later, after nothing eventful, I did an islands tour so I could at least see some of what I failed to visit. It promised a ton of cool sounding stops and snorkeling, which was an ideal day.
The weather was a let down for the first time since I’d been south. It rained in the morning which made the snorkeling conditions disappointing. After a choppy as hell boat ride that nearly destroyed my balls, we got to Monkey Beach. Except there was no beach so it wasn’t really a stop. Another disappointment. When we arrived on Phi Phi, the sun finally came out. It was the lunch stop though, so there wasn’t really much time to do any sort of island exploring. I was distracted but trying to make friends with some of the younger Americans on the tour. Next we went to “Viking Cave.” There was an old shipwreck inside the cave except we didn’t stop or even really get close to it. Disappointment. After another extended boat ride, we went to Koh Khai Nai. It was a really small island dedicated for beach chilling. It was low season and still got overrun with tourists shortly after we got there. Also, every 6 seconds a vendor approached trying to sell some sort of beer, food or clothing. Overall, I was happy to get out on the water but expected a lot more from the tour. If i hadn’t gotten it for a third of the brochure price thanks to a Tinder match, I might’ve lost my shit.
The sunsets from Patong Beach were really a saving grace. I enjoyed a handful that helped me forget any worries and enjoy the ebbs and flows.
I got a ride to the airport in the morning from another Tinder match. Pretty lucky situation. She was an awesome chick that I will hopefully stay in touch with.
So, after some extreme peaks and valleys on Phuket, I made it to Bangkok. I caught a very convenient bus to my hostel and was open to anything. This hostel was also quiet and I was the only in my room for a while.
I got some Pad Thai off the street and walked around the notorious Khaosan Road area. Another place that really came alive at night.
The next day I was sort of aimlessly exploring some nearby attractions when I was told about a holiday/promotion that meant certain tuk tuk drivers were only charging 10 baht. I hopped in one and was taken around to 3 different sights. I soon found out the catch, which was that I had to spend at least 10 minutes inside a tailor for my driver to get a coupon for gas. I was able to practice my indecision and stalling tactics long enough to make that happen, as uncomfortable as it was. Kind of a weird scam for the tuk tuk drivers to be running, but ok.
Since anytime between 12-6pm is basically unbearable outside, I spent the afternoon in some air conditioning hoping that my body would stop sweating. Side note: I’m down 15lbs again.
That night, I ended up rendezvousing with Davide (Italian I hung out with in Kampot) and Tamara (girl I met on the islands tour) for some beers and a foray into the seedy “adult playground” known as Nana Plaza. As the sex culture is widely on display there, I had to go see first hand what it was about.
It was weird.
Nana Plaza was basically a 3-story shopping center (using shopping quite literally, the girls were wearing numbers) of strips clubs and bars. We found out that you could pay to be with any of the girls you saw at any club. On the way out we were offered a trip to see a ping pong/fuck show, so that’s something. Also, there was a guy that quoted a cheaper price for an evening with a lady of your choosing. Honestly, I would’ve liked to see the pong show just to say I’ve done it. But in reality, I’m sure it would’ve been utterly sad, with maybe a hint of impressive. Fine with it in the end.
The next day, Tamara and I met up to see The Grand Palace (absurdly grand), Wat Pho and China Town. I can’t remember if I’ve mentioned that it’s mother effing hot here. The sun was scorching and neither of us really ate breakfast. We somehow made it to 4pm and then were demolished. We found some street food and then parted ways to die slowly in our own accommodations.
Eventually I went to get my first legit Thai massage. It was about $8 for 1hr of pain-adjacent body kneading. I left feeling worse than I came in, which I guess means that my normal is exceptionally wrong. I got a back, shoulder and neck one in the morning thinking it would be more relaxing.
No.
It left me feeling even worse so I don’t know what to think. Maybe just go Swedish all the way.
That pretty much wraps up all of my activities in Thailand. I looked around a few markets and such but nothing too noteworthy. My “In Summary” post will have more analysis on the important stuff so keep an eye out for that.
I’m not exactly sure what the right way is to sum up Cambodia. There were highs and lows as there always are, but this country felt different. Maybe it was because I started off doing something wildly sad on the first day. Really, I think it’s because they’re still on the cusp of figuring it out. It could have something to do with the large-scale adoption of western influences, all the way down to American currency. In my opinion, it would feel better if there was a stronger Cambodian personality, or at least a Khmer spin on the foreign aspects they choose to integrate.
There are some really good pieces, but the full puzzle isn’t quite there. Yet.
I found some great places to stay and some even better places to eat. But nearby there was bound to be mounds of dirt or piles of trash. Cleanliness can be chucked into the ‘in progress’ category. Geckos, roaches and rats were seen regularly. It’s something you have to put out of your mind when going to a restaurant. I’m not saying I need pristine surroundings (though the royal palace was a sight to see), but I could’ve avoided a few trips to the can in better circumstances. Although, you know, it wouldn’t be what it is without those elements. A few table ants and a mosquito bite during a meal does enhance the authenticity.
In addition to insect repellant, don’t forget your sunscreen if you’re visiting during the non-rainy months. And remember to budget for drinking water. To say it’s warm would be a massive understatement. Air con was a luxury; a fan was a minimum requirement. Again, part of the experience.
The cultural offerings were stunning to witness. From both sides of the table. The Khmer Rouge history is such an important part of the country’s identity, albeit cripplingly disheartening. Whether it’s recovery from that or general progress, they’re definitely building toward something. Once they get their transit system on track, I think growth will be exponential. I’d be interested to see the difference in 10 years.
As for the main standout, it has to be, unsurprisingly, Angkor Wat. You could easily spend a full week exploring the temples and still have so much left to see. Now, I don’t think a normal person would have the stamina to do it in that heat, but that’s beside the point. I’m having trouble coming up with more to say about it. The collection of structures and carved stone was so vast and impressive that I found myself meandering about. Much like this post.
I can’t finish without mentioning the Khmer people. So positive, so kind. I saw so many faces light up in response to a smile or “Hello.” Hostel staff treated guests like immediate friends. The attitude and character can not only be appreciated, but used as inspiration.
I hope they Seam Reap the benefits of happiness and prosperity. What a segue.
By the Numbers
Days in Cambodia: 13 Tours: 6 Bus Rides: 7 Tuk Tuk Rides: 8 Massages: 1 Temples Visited: Lost Count Angkor Beers: Lost Count KHR Spent: ~1,772,148.00 USD Spent: ~$443.04 (Conversion rate of 4,000)
For those interested in visiting one day, here’s a list of where I went and how I ranked stuff: (click the top left button of the map to expand the list view)
Lastly, below is my “best of” album. This country has a lot more to offer than what I captured but hopefully I’ll be back when I’m a bit more advanced in my photography skills.
Cambodia: You’re never far away from the smell of something burning.
That’s my unofficial slogan for the time being.
As compared to Vietnam, there’s less infrastructure (even in the big cities), and it’s far dirtier yet more expensive. On the bright side, the people are happy and helpful. You can get a big smile out of someone with a friendly “Hello.”
So far I’ve spent time in Phnom Penh, the capital, and Kampot. While there are plenty of tuk tuk drivers trying to hook you up with a ride, one refusal is enough to send them on their way.. It seems less touristy than other places, which is kind of curious because most people speak pretty good English and they accept the US Dollar everywhere.
Almost all prices are given in USD actually. That is likely what’s driving up the cost of everything. It’s easiest to work in 25¢ increments so most things are at least $1. Take for example num pang, the Cambodian equivalent of a banh mi. In Vietnam, it was 65¢ for the simple street sandwich. Here, it’s $2.50 for basically the same thing (but this one has a chive chutney and a little more baguette). Also, a standard draft beer will run you $1 in Cambodia whereas you could get it for 20¢ in Vietnam.
Most of you reading this are asking why I’m bickering about a few quarters. Remember that I don’t have an active income…and Europe is next so I need to spend as little as possible. Plus, for good or bad, I’ve always been a pretty frugal guy. That, combined with an extended stay in a country that has the cheapest prices I’ve seen for just about everything (Vietnam), has cemented a low value into my brain. I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to adjust that. I mean, of course I’ll re-acclimate to American prices…but a $12 beer is going to be extra infuriating.
Money complaints aside, there’s something I’m still trying to figure out about Cambodia. It’s not totally clicking. I can’t tell if it’s the lack of development, an obvious system, or another issue. Their alphabet is awesome though. Is that the only thing about Cambodia I’ve liked so far? Maybe. That seems a bit harsh. And I’m cruising through the country pretty quickly so I won’t have a full account of the place.
I have been in awe of two things though: the Genocide Museum and the Killing Fields. This is what I did on my first full day here. A depressingly brutal start.
At the S-21 prison, there were gruesome photos of its final inhabitants, who succumbed to torture, bodies abandoned as the staff fled. Walking into those rooms was heavy. There were walls and walls of prisoner headshots — women and children included. Only a few people survived this particular security unit. Heavy.
The next destination, Choeung Ek, was also a lot to take in. We walked around the site where thousands were brought to face their end. Mass graves. A tree specifically used to kill babies. A place where bone fragments and teeth resurface every year during the rainy season. These are the scenes we’re seeing as we listen to the audio guide retell stories of the Khmer Rouge nightmare in painful detail.
The last stop on the grounds was the memorial stupa that houses over 5,000 skulls. There’s also an identification process showing what weapons were used to kill. It’s unbelievable standing there and realizing that those are all actual human remains. The heaviest. How people could do that to other people…there really are no words.
On a brighter note, I met a nice Italian dude named Davide on the bus to Kampot. We were staying at the same place so we became motorbike partners and toured the area together over two days.
The first day we had a nice ride through a nearby National Park, finding semi-scenic mountain views and a nearly dry waterfall.
At night, we went to the city center to find some dinner. We came across a street vendor selling insects, which is a very common local snack. I’ll tell you what $2 can get you here: a fuck ton of fried bugs. We tried worms, frogs, and crickets — easily the best. It was a strange sensation to fish something out of a bag by its leg and then go straight for the crunch. Gotta be adventurous though. Eventually, you start popping them like any other snack. And you know how you just keep grabbing whatever’s in front of you? That was happening. I had to cut myself off so I wouldn’t hate life later. Flash forward: it wasn’t full on hate, but there was certainly some dislike.
The next morning we got an early start riding through some very rural Cambodian villages to find a slightly underwhelming cave temple. We traversed a few more bumpy dirt roads, said “Hello!” to several giddy school children, and passed by basic houses with at least one water buffalo each. We drove around a “secret lake” in the middle of nowhere. It was definitely hot enough to swim but the promise of leeches was a dealbreaker.
Then, we got to a pepper farm called La Plantation. We were just in time for the free tour so we were shown around the grounds and taught about pepper picking and processing. The green ones become black pepper and the red ones, when skinned, become white pepper. There was a free taste test of many varieties…and I had no water left. “We all cry together,” said our guide. The best I think was the long red pepper. Finally, Davide and I ate at the on-premises restaurant. Absolutely stunning marinated barbecue ribs. Oh my Jesus. Could’ve polished off a full rack of them bad boys.
We waited out a short rainstorm before hopping back on the bike. We conquered the freshly muddy, nearly flooded roads for another 40 minutes before taking a short walk around the small town of Kep. It’s known for the beach and crab market. It must’ve been a weird time though because there weren’t many people or vendors set up yet. There was a large group of under-18s doing a choreographed dance to “Itsy Bitsy Teenie Weenie,” so that was a peculiar scene.
After escaping the twilight zone, it was another 40 minute ride back to our hostel. We spent around 7hrs out in the sun on that damn motorbike. You need a strong core and flexible leg muscles to be bounced around in that position for so long. I don’t have either of those things, so I was feeling it.
A few beers at happy hour helped. It seemed like there were a lot of long-term foreigners living and working in the area. Kind of random because Kampot is a somewhat small riverside town. Plus, it’s the shoulder period heading into the low/wet season so it’s relatively empty. Sounds like it’s easy to get a visa and a job in the country though.
The night market beckoned us at dinner time. We got some noodles and then cruised around the city to see what else it had to offer. There were 3 or 4 hotspots but nothing enticing. I have to imagine half of those places are closing down for a few months soon. It’s hard to tell because I still don’t get Cambodia yet.
Early the next day, it was time for Davide and I to part ways. He was boarding a ferry to a southern island for a Workaway and I was catching a 10hr bus to Siem Reap.
How has it been two months already? When I got to Vietnam, I wasn’t planning on staying that long. The extended visit meant that I got to get out of my backpack for a change and remember what a routine was like. Most of that routine consisted of me struggling to teach 4-15 year olds English — something I ignorantly underestimated despite having no experience.
As someone who has never been confident interacting with young kids, allowing me to “command” a full classroom was a highly questionable decision on the part of my employers. Each morning I had to fight past my discomfort to show up and attempt to teach, even though I didn’t know what I was doing. And while there may not have been a real benefit for the students, I did connect with a few of them. I have a newfound appreciation and respect for teachers (and parents for that matter) — especially those with the patience and fortitude to keep smashing head first into the wall that is kindergarten-aged little ones. At a very pessimistic minimum, all of the nerves and sweat helped subsidize an excellent 10-day tour across the country with my friend Jorge.
While teaching had its rough moments, there’s still plenty of things I came to love about Vietnam.
The cities are densely populated and bustling. Streets packed with motorbikes and cars made crossing the road feel like a game of life and death at times. The street food stalls full of people squatting on tiny plastic chairs created a special vibe. There’s a certain type of energy in that claustrophobic lifestyle.
On food: the cuisine was about what I expected it to be. I ate rice almost everyday. I ate parts of animals that I don’t want to know more details about. Some meals almost forced me into vegetarianism. Chicken feet aren’t great. Shrimp sauce is even worse. But the pho was right. “Bread’ aka banh mis became my go-to delicious and cheap option (65¢ a piece).
The people are friendly and emotional. The amount of times I heard “show me your smile…” From what I’ve gathered, they love quickly and deeply. Overall, they seem busy and motivated yet happy. Also, the women are beautiful. But that could just be my new thing.
There’s history everywhere. I feel like every place Jorge and I went on our tour used to be the country’s capital at some point. Temples, dynasties, and wars. I felt like I was staring into the past in some places. The natural palette of brown rivers accompanying muted black limestone mountains and deep green rice fields created an ancient ambiance. Don’t worry, though. There are some developing, modern places that, when finished, will provide quite the contrast. I’ll probably stick to nature regardless.
So, the people, the food, the scenery and the affordability are a worthwhile combination that will beckon me back. When? I don’t know yet, but probably not soon enough.
By the Numbers
Days in Vietnam: 65 Days Teaching: 40 Schools Taught At: 5 Teaching Salary: 19,642,000 VND Days of Tour: 11 Temples Visited: 12 Boat Rides: 7 VND Spent: ~41,319,325 USD Spent: ~$1,781.98 (Avg conversion rate of roughly 23187.26) Net Spend: ~$934.88
For those interested in visiting one day, here’s a list of where I went and how I ranked stuff: (click the top left button of the map to expand the list view)
Favorite Places: 1. Saigon 2. Hoi An 3. Hanoi 4. Halong Bay 5. Hue
Lastly, below is my “best of” album. This country has a lot more to offer than what I captured but hopefully I’ll be back when I’m a bit more advanced in my photography skills.
Whether it’s Hindu or Muslim, Indonesian or Balinese, Nasi Goreng or Mie Goreng, Grab or GOJEK, slow ferry or fastboat, the Nusas or the Gilis — Bali (and Lombok) were an adventurous step in my travels.
I started to learn what Asia was like on the senses. A language barrier, a major customs difference and a semi-chaotic transportation system. There’s continuous pressure to enter every shop and take every massage offered. Few prices are set and while individual items are cheap, costs add up when you’re nickel and dimed for everything. My bargaining skills are still a work in progress but I did get a partially new wardrobe to cope with the heat.
Aside from more airy clothes, another way to cool off was taking advantage of all of the pools and beaches. Plus, most of my showers were cold showers. Speaking of water, future travelers need to budget a few dollars a day for safe drinking water. Save the risk of Bali Belly for that seafood indulgence or potentially suspect sate ayam. I only had one night of sickness and discomfort so I’ll consider myself lucky.
On a more positive note, it was wet season but the rain primarily happened at night which was nice. That gave me ample time to enjoy the stunning scenery in the sunshine. I didn’t have to go far to experience the diversity of paradise-like beaches and resorts versus lush green rice terraces and monkey forests.
In terms of worthwhile activities, there were plenty of options to choose, ranging from recreational to spiritual. I did a sacred cacao ceremony and sound healing as well as got 12m deep with my first ever dive. I also spent a day on a scooter and didn’t wreck myself so that’s classified as a huge win.
People came in varying degrees. Most of the locals I interacted with were gracious and humble. There were a select few that were solely focused on taking advantage of tourists. Here’s looking to you, Bangsal Harbor guy. I suppose you’ll find that everywhere though.
I did have the good fortune of making a few meaningful connections with fellow travelers — a common trend throughout my journey that I’ll be happy to keep going.
As far as unfinished business, there were a few sights I missed out on: particularly Mt. Batur, the Lempuyang Gate, and the pink beaches of eastern Lombok. I could see myself coming back to be a hostel promoter or to finish a diving certification. If I ever take up surfing, Bali would be a top destination also. And in an even bigger long shot, the Gili Islands are a must-do romantic getaway should I ever land a significant other.
We’ll just have to see about that.
By the Numbers
Days in Bali: 30 Day Tours: 2 Avg Daily Water Intake: 2.5L Bargaining Opportunities: 14 Boat Rides: 11 Motorbike Rides Without Incident: 15 IRD Spent: ~17,797,768.00 USD Spent: ~$1,270.859 (Avg conversion rate of roughly 14007.49)
For those interested in visiting one day, here’s a list of where I went and how I ranked stuff: (click the top left button of the map to expand the list view)
Lastly, below is my “best of” album. This country has a lot more to offer than what I captured but hopefully I’ll be back when I’m a bit more advanced in my photography skills.
