Where am I today, I wish that I knew

We are in Chiang Mai and I can not say how glad I am to be out of Bangkok. Our "VIP" bus ride was such a disappointment! It was not even comfortable and the treats were seriously lacking. We had been very badly sunburnt in the kayak and because we were sitting on the bus for so long our feet and ankles swelled up. We had hobbit feet. I kept having panic attacks that my legs would explode. I don't know if travel insurance covers exploding appendages. Have to look that one up.

The three of us took an overnight train to Chiang Mai and it was lovely. Being on the train is so relaxing for me. It was good to lay down fully to ease the swelling. The metrical flow of the tracks always lulls me. The rhythm is steady, like a certain lullaby and slowly, gently I drifted to sleep. A second train glided by like a secret. It rushed up unexpectedly, with seeming urgency, and left whispers on the tracks. Passing trains leave no trace and you feel that you couldn't explain what has happened to anyone who hasn't heard the secret too. When the sun rose I sat in my bunk and watched the northern hills roll by. Ross climbed down from his bunk and we sat together looking out the window into the jungles of Thailand.

Our first night here Kip and I went to the monk chat. We each had several monks to talk to and they were so pleased to sit and answer any mundane question you asked. Both of my monks were from Laos, so I even got travel tips from them! As we stood up to leave a passing monk said, "Why are you leaving? You got a hot date?" !!! Where do they learn this slang? That comment will keep coming up between Kip and I for a long time, I'm sure.

Yesterday we went to Doi Suthep. It is high in the hills with a panoramic view of the valley and a peaceful tiered temple. The bells hanging from the roof jingle when a breeze picks up. There are many open buildings with numerous buddhas whose feet are awash with lotus blossoms and incense. It's a place to comfortably sit for hours and focus your energy on productive thought.

We have moved on from our first guesthouse (Five Star House; just the name not the reputation). We were told we had to leave unless we booked a trek. It wasn't rough leaving as the place was pretty ordinary and they didn't even allow "lady joiners" (what?, indeed). There is a rumour going around town that Tinar, the hostess, is really a man.

It's our third day in Chiang Mai and we have bought too many things already. Our packs are begin to weigh us down like there is a 13 year old in a papoose on our backs. Must find a way to fix this...

roasty toasty

Congratulations are in order here, as Kip and I rented a sea kayak, paddled our sorry selves to an island about two kilometers away and lived to brag. About half way into it, we were moaning about our shoulders and swearing we'd never make it. But in just one hour we pulled the kayak up onto the shores of Poda island, just west of Rai Leh. After a brief cool down, we hopped in the boat again and rowed ourselves around to a hidden cove where we enjoyed some snorkelling on our own private beach. On the row back we pushed ourselves, rowing fiercely, fearing that the enormous grey cloud looming over Rai Leh beach would explode into a thunderstorm and we would be tossed from the kayak. We made it somehow.

Surprisingly we weren't sore when we woke up this morning. But our legs are badly sunburnt and that is making it miserable to walk around. There are some dangers in Thailand that you just don't account for. As we sat by the water eating our breakfast a fleshy, green nut, about the size of a walnut, fell from a tree and smashed on our table. It was obviously aiming for Kip, but luckily it missed. We had enough pain to deal with.

We are on our way to the bus station in Krabi to leave our blissful paradise. It was gorgeous weather for us and well worth the effort to get here. Tomorrow morning I'll be heading to Don Muang airport to collect Ross!

currently writing a biographical musical, starring zach (casting still in talks)

Three days alone in Bangkok is too much for any person to bare. Finally Kip arrived, but by that time I fear I had lost half of my lung capacity to pollution. We set off on a bus that was allegedly "air condition only" but was suspiciously VIP in nature. There were fancy pillows, snacks, meals, Thai suspense films and music blaring at every brief stop.

We pulled into Krabi while it was still dark and about four hours earlier than I had anticipated. After realizing we were in the right place we leapt off the bus, hoping to be rid of such torture for good. There was a good deal of time here while we tried to figure out where to head and were expectedly harrassed by touts offering the ultimate getaway. Eventually we took a pickup to Ao Nang where we caught a long tail boat to Rai Leh beach. (For reference see "The Beach" as they filmed many scenes on this peninsula and on a neighbouring beach). It's been a wonderful experience so far. There are a handful of bungalows and restaurants and not much else. Tomorrow we hope to go sea kayaking and explore the caves and islands in the area.

Kip is a great travelling companion and I may keep her. If she annoys me, though, I might try to sell her in Bangkok when we go to pick up Ross on the 28th. She would fetch a fair price. Will keep you all posted.

why does it always end like this?

my plane leaves in a few hours. of course i am panicked. i feel like i'm forgetting something. everything. my head is racing. i always feel like this until i get to the airport and then, when it's out of my hands, i relax. by tonight i'll be in thailand.

yesterday i went to rottnest island with dad. this is where his father was held as a pow in ww1 when he was fourteen. it is a gorgeous, reef bordered island and we spent all day just exploring the sand dunes and beaches, imagining my grandfather walking these sands 90 years ago. it was a beautiful day. it was surreal to be with him on that island, searching for a link that i knew almost nothing about just weeks ago. i think i learned things that i have been trying to learn for twenty years.

I do not want much of a present, anyway, this year.
After all I am alive only by accident.
-Plath

I have less than one week left in Australia.

Currently I'm in Perth, staying with dad. This weekend we went to the Margaret River area, a few hours south of the city. It was a bit damp, but a lovely area brimming with vineyards, breweries, chocolate factories, cheese makers and, further out of the valley, bordering the divinely ultramarine waters of the Indian ocean.

The week feels like it's being let down a bathtub drain. Very slowly, but you have the low gurgling to remind you that soon it will be empty and you'll soon be uncovered and chilled. While it's nice to see dad after such a long time he always makes the experience so basic. To him, it seems as if I'm returning after a school term or holiday. As if I come and go often and not, as it is, that we see each other hardly ever. He has been uncovering information about his father, who died when Dad was five. He was fifteen when he sailed into Australian territory as crew of a German merchant ship. He was captured as a Prisoner of War, though the ship was unaware WWI had even begun. He was held in Australia, first near Perth on Rottnest Island and then near Sydney. Until recently I hadn't even known my grandfather's name. Not because it was hidden or kept as a secret, but only because his side of the family doesn't discuss the past. My father's family is darkly veiled for no particular reason. Losing your father so young must make it difficult to understand the true role a father plays to a child. How does your small mind piece together the equation of family when only half the puzzle exists?

Also, I wonder if parents who have separated see their children as the glimmers or blatent characters of their former partners. And because they have lost the love for one another does seeing that similarity in their children make them lose pieces of that love? I wonder if this happens, though no thoughtful parent would admit. I wonder if this happened with my parents.

maybe the dingo ate your baby

Adelaide has nothing to mention, except that they are a bit stuck up by the fact there were no convicts involved in their settlement. I spent one night here and caught the famous Ghan to Alice Springs. It's an overnight train and was surprisingly comfortable. I spent a good deal of the night awake in the lounge car, watching the Simpsons and Lord of the Rings DVDs with a couple who had brought a Playstation 2. What champions! When the sun finally rose in a burst of splendor only the desert can muster, I was up instantly. Back in the lounge car I watched the dry, flat land radiate mile after mile. The seemingly immutable characteristics of the vast desert are actually in constant transformation. I am fascinated by the countless colours; the greens, greys and golds of the spinifex grasses and shrubs, the striking blue of the sky, often cloudless, the blackened trunks of bush-fired trees and the rich, burnt umber of the mysteriously fertile earth.

I arrived into Alice Springs and the heat slapped me violently as I hopped off the train. The carriage had been deceptively cool but outside was nearing 38 degrees celsius. The airconditioned bed at the hostel was like a cradle and I was out as soon as I hit the pillow.

The next day I was off on a camping trip to the cherry-candy centre of Australia, Ayer's Rock. We drove off at 6:30, twenty clueless backpackers and our guide, Darren. I sat up front with an insane Chilean, who reckons there are more aliens living in Chile than anywhere on earth, a German interested in learning about the prostitution in Thailand and a sheep-loving Welshman (enough said there). Up first was a 5km walk through King's Canyon. Darren says this canyon is larger than the Grand Canyon, but I could never get out of him in which way. I think it may have just been an American/Australian-mine-is-bigger-than-yours. The canyon was a humbling spectacle. The wind at the summit almost pushed us over as we marvelled over the height of the drop.

That night we turned off the main road and plowed through some bush to get to our "camping site". I use this term loosely as it was just a clearing in the middle of NOWHERE. We unrolled our swags (a small mattress inside a body bag), opened our sleeping bags and laid down to sleep beneath the undisturbed mural of a billion stars. This would have been the most beautiful sight and the most peaceful sleep of my life if I hadn't been absolutely terrified about the spiders that live without care in the bush. I was awake with eyes wide for most of the night. We were up at 5am.

We spent the day exploring the Olgas (Kata Tjuta). This collection of massive sandstone globes lies a few miles from Ayer's Rock (Uluru). The colours, shapes and sheer size of these rocks was incredible. We climbed and hiked through a small portion of the Olgas, maybe a quarter of the total area, but it took us about four hours!

As sunset approached we pulled up to the carpark to cook our dinner and all gathered around for the best view. There were masses of people, so I slipped off and walked down the road until I was alone. I turned off the main road and into the bush. Then I was in solitude, Uluru before me. The rays of the sun illuminated the huge monolith and it melted from one red hue to the next. The sky was transformed behind it, like an infinite canvas. As the sun set it faded into silhouette and the stars began to descend.

On the way to camp, Darren turned on some disco music, a strobe light and put up a mirror ball. Oscar showed us his enigmatic way of dancing, which was mainly just a lot of hitting his ass. Around the campfire we sang, toasted marshmallows, listened to guitar strumming and watched the fire, trancelike. We awoke from another night of terror at 4am. Like prisoners we loaded ourselves onto the bus, filthy and tired. But as soon as we arrived back at the Uluru viewpoint all that misery disappeared. The sun crept up to our horizon, brightening the sky, and was suddenly upon us in a great flash. It was a spectacular sight. When we had all washed up as best we could in a rest area sink, we headed over to the rock itself. It is a 9.4 km walk around the base. I only hope I have the opportunity to do this walk again. It was phenomenal. When you see photos of Ayer's Rock it seems smooth and simple. But it's a complex of caves, rock piles, valleys and ridges. And you can not understand the enormity of the thing until you are beneath it. I took some photos, but I don't think they can be fully appreciated without the personal experience. I did not climb to the summit because it is viewed as disrespectful by the local people.

After we left the park we prepared to leave Oscar and Andreas (Chilean and German, respectively) at the airport. After all their entertainment it was quite a sad farewell and we all slapped our asses at them through the window as we drove away. We made one stop on the way back to Alice Springs to ride camels. What sweet and comical creatures! It was a unique ride, the height and speed of the animals surprised me. It was a great way to end a remarkable journey to Australia's red centre.

I am beginning to empathize with those who crave the desert. When they are drowning in the world they crawl on dry knees to the hot, dusty, flat earth. It is level enough here to see in all directions. You are fooled into believing that you have a clear vision that gives you control of your environment. But the desert is brutal and always the one in control. Maybe there's the comfort. I'm still working it out, being an ocean-girl.

On to Perth 5th October.