The Phuket Poo

3.2 k
views

The Shanti Lodge in Phuket is beautiful, but also far away – from the airport, from the city, from the beach. I arrive quite exhausted and enjoy reasonably stable WiFi for the first time in weeks. I was expecting Tom and Christiane on the 10th. There’s a big hello when they suddenly turn up today. The food is great – and very expensive. Just like everything else in the lodge.

On the second day, we hire scooters and drive into Phuket City. The whole island seems to be one big settlement. Everything looks the same. Perfect for getting around. We get ferry tickets to Ko Phi Phi and go shopping. A 3-month parcel to Germany would cost 40 euros. So I carry my winter clothes from New Zealand with me until the end of my trip around the world. (more…)

Rafting in elephant country

Post
#207

0804

2008

Tue

17:55

day #

305

3.9 k
views

Unrested, Chiangmai Adventures picks me up early in the morning in a minibus. There are only five people in the group. I’m happy about that. It’s a two-hour journey north to a remote mountain valley near Mae Taeng. The track is insane. I’m not at all surprised when a bulldozer makes a makeshift levelling of the road in front of us.

After 10 kilometres of washboard, we head out onto the river. Small inflatable rafts for two people, each with their own private guide. The water level is low, difficulty level 3, there are lots of rocks and little water, so it’s not without danger. After half an hour of leisurely paddling through the jungle, the first nasty rapids appear. (more…)

700km through the Golden Triangle

Post
#206

0604

2008

Sun

18:12

day #

303

3.9 k
views

I’m back on the banks of the Mekong just in time for sunrise. The local longboat club is paddling their hearts out. Just 10 kilometres to the north, I’m finally in the middle of the Golden Triangle. Thailand, Burma and Laos meet here. Advertising signs advertise opium museums. A few expensive resorts pay homage to the old days in the middle of nowhere.

Many Thais here drive conspicuously fat off-road vehicles. Life still seems to be more lucrative than elsewhere in Thailand. The local police stations look like small temples, all the policemen have new uniforms. Justice is also worthwhile here. I pass through a good two dozen checkpoints by the evening. (more…)

Motorbike to the Mekong

Post
#205

0504

2008

Sat

18:45

day #

302

3.5 k
views

Somehow I always end up having long nights before long tours. Early in the evening, I’m standing outside my room door and want to go to sleep. Then I hear Thais playing reggae in the bar 20 metres away. Good, a beer. The band looks like the Gorillaz crossed with Japanese anime characters. Weird, very weird. A Tyrolean woman on permanent holiday comes to my table, then four Americans. Whoosh. Two o’clock.

The skull from last night’s house-fuelled rum is still gigantic at nine o’clock. Six o’clock was the plan. After an emergency breakfast, I go to the bike hire shop round the corner. He changes the oil, for which I am grateful. Then it’s off on the motorbike to the Mekong. Chiang Mai only knows one riding style: kamikaze. No problem with the hangover. (more…)

Chiang Mai

Post
#204

0404

2008

Fri

15:40

day #

301

3.6 k
views

The journey to Chiang Mai is stressful despite the deluxe VIP bus. The road has more potholes than tarmac. I sit right at the back, where it rocks the most and the backrests can’t really be folded down. What the hell, I’m used to travelling almost without sleep. The sunrise behind the mountains in Chiang Mai is bombastic. After a short search, I find a nice guesthouse.

Chiang Mai is built like a Roman legionary camp and has some parallels to Regensburg. Two meridians meet in the centre of a square fortification consisting of a city wall and moat with four gates. There is not much left of the walls, but the old town has some beautiful corners and of course plenty of temples. (more…)

Ayutthaya, city of temples

Post
#203

0304

2008

Thu

21:13

day #

300

3.8 k
views

I can do almost everything I need to do in Bangkok. My walking boots have taken me halfway round the world. But now I’ve had enough. Getting size 46 sandals is quite difficult in the land of small feet. The first street vendor wants a photo of my feet. Web design is a little quieter at the moment, and that’s a good thing. My fingertips are still bleeding from Australia.

I make the most of the time. After two days in Smogcity, I take the Skytrain to the Victory Monument. From there by minibus 80km north for next to nothing. The biggest problem: at most 10% of all Thais speak English. And of those, 90% speak only rudimentary English. Should I learn something? Phrases like “Mai mai mai mai?” Put me off. The differences in intonation alone mean “New wood burns well, doesn’t it?” (more…)

Thai boxing in the red light district

Post
#202

0204

2008

Wed

1:11

day #

299

5.4 k
views

I sleep through the afternoon. Then I’m hungry again. There are lots of tourist hotels on Silom Road. Food is more expensive, but still cheap. There are not just 1000 different Thai dishes. There is everything. Worldwide. I go to a Lebanese restaurant. Four huge courses, endlessly delicious plus drinks for eight euros. How much does heaven cost?

Red light is just round the corner, ticked off under “as expected”. Beautiful yellow women, ugly white men. On to the Lumpini Stadium. Tuesday night is Thai boxing night. The prices are steep, doubled since last year. I arrive at half-time and see three more fights. Tough but fair. The most interesting thing: the bookies with their hectic sign language. Black Tuesday in Bangkok. (more…)

Hello Thailand!

Post
#201

0104

2008

Tue

16:33

day #

298

4.2 k
views

I arrive at Sydney Airport three hours before departure. Forgot a traveller’s cheque two months ago, run from pillar to post and back to get it back. Qantas only found it again at the gate. I have a crash landing before departure: British Airways has changed its baggage rules again. Drastic. I knew about it thanks to HP, but didn’t want to believe it.

I bought my round-the-world ticket a year ago. Because I was allowed to take 23kg of kite luggage for free. Now British Airways prohibits the carriage of any boards. Halfway round the world and then you’re allowed to leave half your luggage behind. Unimaginable for normal travellers. For kiters, everyday life from now on. Read the whole story at Oase. (more…)

Badbye Australia!

Post
#200

3003

2008

Sun

0:10

day #

296

4.4 k
views

I’m happy to be leaving a country for the first time. All the countries were beautiful. Even the USA despite Bush. Apart from a few places, Australia was rubbish. Expensive as hell, boring, too big, too boozy, too touristy and lots of rain. Plus a ruined car, 2 cameras, a laptop hinge and a DVD drive. Cost for 8 weeks: just under 6000€.

Sure, it was a lot of money just for bad luck. But even the money that I used sparingly for travelling flowed through my hands in torrents. Only rarely were my minimum expectations met. A recent study puts Sydney ahead of Tokyo as the most expensive city in the world. If they had factored in tourism, it would probably be the most expensive city south of the Andromeda Nebula. (more…)

Impressions from Kings Cross

Post
#199

2803

2008

Fri

16:18

day #

294

3.7 k
views

I’m back in Kings Cross. I have nothing against cockroaches. Only if they’re dead on my pillow in the morning. That’s why Eva’s Backpackers is the only choice. I’m sitting on the roof terrace. Bats fly over the Sydney skyline as the sun sets. The evening begins. The only backpacker-budget-compatible drink is wine from the carton.

We have plenty of that before heading to the mother of all bars one last time. The World Bar was magical two months ago. Magic can’t be planned, maybe not even repeated. I know it, but I never want to believe it. The evening is weird and wobbly. In the end, four girls sit down at my table for Hen Night. Two are devils, two are angels. The angels are devilish, the devils speak English. (more…)

A beautiful day

Post
#198

2603

2008

Wed

23:44

day #

292

3.7 k
views

During the night, I dry my soaking wet kite in the room. The result in the morning: kite half dry, room and all my clothes look like they’ve come straight out of the rainforest. I check out and call Steve. Steve is a passionate National League poker player. He lost a few rounds against me on Fiji in the rain. Now we’re sitting in the sun and discussing our match plans over breakfast.

Then it’s off to Budawang National Park. Curious parrots sniff us out. Steve didn’t promise too much: The most beautiful beach in Australia. White sand and bright blue sea. Dolphins play in the surf. A sea eagle circles over a school of fish. There is no more wind today, so all that remains is hope. (more…)

Easter in Jervis Bay

Post
#197

2403

2008

Mon

19:55

day #

290

3.8 k
views

There was hardly any sleep last night. Being awake was too important. The whole day until I leave for Sydney in the evening, I’m so wiped out that there’s no sleep again. In the afternoon I drive to the Southern Cross Terminal, then take the night bus to Jervis Bay. No extra charge for the kiteboard, empty bus and gigantic seat pitches. The sun sets behind me.

I sleep most of the night. The transfer bus from Nowra to Huskisson in Jervis Bay in the morning is a real experience. Completely empty. Comatose steel guitar country tunes. 30km through perfect neighbourhoods. Sweating joggers, children playing, fathers mowing the lawn, neatly framed flowerbeds. (more…)

Melbourne rocks!

Post
#196

2203

2008

Sat

12:32

day #

288

4.1 k
views

After five days in the outback, I stay in Melbourne again. Melbourne rocks. If there’s any city in Australia that I’m going to miss, it’s Melbourne. Good food, relaxed people, lots of greenery. The beach in St Kilda, pleasant temperatures, nice pubs. The parks, the museums, the Yarra River. The hustle and bustle in the city centre and the peace and quiet in the neighbouring residential areas.

The most impressive thing about Melbourne is the music scene. The monthly concert programme is the size of the Süddeutsche Zeitung on Saturday. Within two weeks, Chemical Brothers, Jack Johnson, Nouvelle Vague, Mo Horizon, Hot Hot Heat, Juliette and the Licks, Black Crowes, Kiss, Alice Cooper are playing. I would have wanted to see 30 concerts within five days. (more…)

Kata Tjuta and Uluru

Post
#195

1803

2008

Tue

21:22

day #

284

3.6 k
views

Departure on the second day is before 5 a.m. We drive on to the Olgas, or Kata Tjuta on Anangu. The Kata Tjuta are a formation of over 30 wind-cut sandstone monoliths and a sacred area for the Anangu. The temperature is around 40 degrees again. You get used to everything.

Again: dead trees in front of red rocks against a blue sky. Stinging sun, thousands of flies. Not new, but still beautiful. We hike about 7km around a few monoliths, it’s impossible to replace the water fast enough. Zebra finches in a tree. Then we continue by bus to the end of the journey: Uluru or Ayers Rock. (more…)

Australias Outback: Kings Canyon

Post
#194

1603

2008

Sun

22:35

day #

282

4 k
views

I have booked a three-day tour into the outback. We set off before dawn in a medium-sized bus at 5am. The passengers: 18 women, 6 men and a good guide. Luckily it’s not as hot as yesterday. Still. On the first day alone, we have 800 kilometres to cover. I’m too big, or the bus is too small. No sleep.

There are a few short stops on the journey. An outback roadhouse. Patting a dingo lady. I order a camel burger and eat it with relish in front of his brother. The fellow travellers are quite nice, but after last night I only really warm up because of the steadily increasing heat. With every petrol station, the fuel gets more expensive, rising to 150% of the Australian average. (more…)

Alice Springs

Post
#193

1403

2008

Fri

15:03

day #

280

4.1 k
views

I spend my last night in Melbourne at Coffee House Backpackers. A lovely old house full of miserable young boozers. They’re all still in bed at 11. It smells of death and decay. I buy myself a day ticket and set off once again on little-travelled paths through the whole of Melbourne. Telstra Dome, Docklands, shopping, Melbourne Museum.

The night in the Coffee House is as expected. Even after the twentieth call to her lover’s mobile phone in the dorm, a sufftoe refuses to accept that he doesn’t want her. At three o’clock she knocks on the door. I storm out with such angry words and face that she doesn’t even dare go through the open door afterwards. (more…)

From the sea of parties to the desert

Post
#192

1103

2008

Tue

13:28

day #

277

3.3 k
views

One long party. There are no days, only nights. They start at noon here in St Kilda. It’s fun. If it gets too loud or nasty somewhere, there are plenty of other places. The Esplanade Hotel is the mother of all live pubs. There are 30 concerts every day at the weekend. I went to 5, the crowds went wild. And yesterday was Labour Day, so it was a very long weekend.

Time flies by. There is so much to do in Melbourne. Culture, lots of work, long nights, hardly any sleep. Good people, even if it’s a bit of a blur. Or even incomprehensible. A dinner, a concert by a house band in a club with €5 for a small Becks. Important questions and the starry southern sky. (more…)

12 Apostel & Grampians

Post
#191

0703

2008

Fri

23:53

day #

273

4.6 k
views

I continue along the coast. I isolate myself, I’m in a bad mood. My laptop could be destroyed at any time. A rainforest, a short hike, waterfalls. I’m always lagging behind or creeping along, Space Night turned up all the way in my ears. Good if you don’t want to hear anything. No birds, no rustling leaves or rippling water. Above all, no people.

Next stop: The 12 Apostles, a formation of 12 large sandstone rocks just off the coast on the Great Ocean Road. Crowds of tourists and helicopters as annoying as mosquitoes. We drive on quickly, as if an official had said: “Please move on. There’s nothing to see here.” (more…)

Decay on the Great Ocean Road

Post
#190

0503

2008

Wed

22:12

day #

271

3.2 k
views

The day starts well. I have a rideshare along the Great Ocean Road. Two Frenchmen, one Irishwoman, all good people. We drive into town, get the hire car, drive off. The panic begins. Our French driver is the worst driver I’ve ever seen. My grandma drove much better and safer at 73. The start: the hire company shows him how to start.

The highlights until the evening: Several extremely tight right-of-way regulations. Almost turning into a one-way street – only for trams. Constant jerky, unannounced braking. Dozens of following drivers get upset. An almost rear-end collision. Forgotten handbrake, touching down on a kerb. Then a nice jerky reverse so that it tears the spoiler. And forever: travelling at 40 km/h on a country road. (more…)

The silence of St Kilda

Post
#189

0403

2008

Tue

20:44

day #

270

3.4 k
views

St Kilda is the beach of Melbourne. It’s just a 30-minute tram ride from Nomad’s layby, so I book in for longer on the very first day. A small hostel, nothing special, but no vomit on the stairs. It’s easy to be happy. The beach is just 400 metres away. Supermarket round the corner, and lots of nice little shops and restaurants.

I walk through the neighbourhood. All I hear is birds chirping. Peace and quiet. The botanical garden, Aussies lying in the sun. There’s an old wooden rollercoaster from 1912 on the beach and a huge theatre where small bands like Toto play. The WiFi is working, I’m working like crazy to balance my account. (more…)

Nomad’s laying battery

Post
#188

0303

2008

Mon

12:17

day #

269

3.1 k
views

Some hostels are like battery cages. The Nomad Backpackers in Melbourne is the mother of all battery hens. Hens and roosters, the desired end product – their money. They put plenty of it on the counter for their daily bread: grain, wheat and barley. A bar as a feeding trough, the hens clucking in unbelievable pitches, the roosters crowing unknowingly for their lost lives.

I don’t understand the whole discussion about which husbandry is better: To wither away in a cage, or to tear each other apart in a barn. I move from the cage to the floor when a little helper cock says: “If you ex this jug, I’ll pay it.”. Well, the Bavarian does, no problem with the prices – maybe I’ll even become a rooster. (more…)

Melbourne

Post
#187

0203

2008

Sun

15:00

day #

268

3 k
views

The landing approach to Melbourne begins shortly before midnight. Sea of lights. I quickly flick through the Lonely Planet: 3.5 million inhabitants. Wow. I didn’t think so. After 15 minutes I have all my luggage and the transfer bus is just right. Peter, Father Christmas from Fiji, had offered to pick me up with his sister. She works at the airport. But that works too.

I arrive in the city. A bus with a disco ball drives past. Muffled bass thumps. It says on the back: The Ultimate Party Experience. A disco on wheels. If you don’t spill your beer while dancing, you’ll definitely make it here. Sotos had already told me: Melbourne is the party capital of the world. All the walls on the walk to the hostel confirm this: Poster after poster after poster. (more…)

Out: stralia

Post
#186

0103

2008

Sat

14:44

day #

267

4 k
views

I hate sayings like “What doesn’t kill you makes you tougher” Or “True friends are recognised in adversity”. Why? Because they’re always true. I just don’t like sayings that are always true. Life is much more complicated than that. But for a few things: perfectly clear and simple. Do I have to be grateful for that now?

In a few situations, there are no options. Where otherwise you have a hundred options, there is often only one way left in extreme situations. And it’s usually hard. So the aftermath must be great because it’s wonderfully fluffy and soft. Oh yes, and bright. With red light bulbs and blue flowers on both sides and all that. People afterwards will be different. Better ones. (more…)

At the end

Post
#185

2802

2008

Thu

14:52

day #

265

4.4 k
views

The days drag on endlessly while I wait for the missing part from Sydney. It rains constantly. I read a lot, “The Pornographers Poem” by Michael Turner. Watch “Shortbus” for the second time. The last song is beautiful: “We all get it in the end”. My old hostel sold my bed, even though I said I’d be back. Never mind, it was rubbish anyway.

The lady of the house drives me to the next one. It’s completely empty. A whole dorm for me. Silence, endless silence. Then a train passes behind. I’m grateful for that. I go outside, smoke a cigarette. Sit and watch the rain fall. A frog hops across the yard. A gecko screams for a female. Evening programme in Cardwell. (more…)

Diving on the Great Barrier Reef

Post
#184

2502

2008

Mon

19:13

day #

262