To travel is amazing. Is cool. Is exciting. But to travel is also tiring and exhausting. Now that I’ve been back for a month, I realize how tiring traveling can be. The fact of moving constantly, the fact that you have to readapt every other day and face new realities and new people can be tiresome. I don’t how many times I had to repeat my story. Where I’m from, where I’m going, why I’m traveling and so on. Over and over again. Everybody goes “Wow! I wish I could do the same!” and maybe they really mean it, but then they don’t do it. Maybe because they know deep down inside that to travel is actually a “job”, it takes a toll on you, like every other job. Maybe they know that it can be lonely, and that sometimes you feel lost and abandoned. That traveling is not just about money and meeting people and see cool stuff. Traveling is also getting to know yourself, testing your limits. And sometimes it is scary. Sometimes you don’t know if you’ll make it, you don’t know what you’re going to eat that day, or if you’re even eating at all, you don’t know where you will sleep and who you’ll meet. Of course it’s all part of the adventure and I wouldn’t trade it for anything in this world, but sometimes we all need to stop and make home even if for a couple of days. We all need a little consistency, for some peace of mind. And then your feet start to itch again and you’re ready for your next adventure, for your next connection, your next flight. Now that I’ve been back for a month, I feel the urge to move, to pack my bag and go. I’m nervously checking the flights and I’m already thinking about my next trip. I have this need to meet new people, see new places, eat different things. I need to feel free, to be out in this world, the travel bug had infested my body and there’s no cure. I just need to travel. I can’t explain the adrenaline that rushes through your veins when you arrive in a new place, when to talk to someone new, when you have to face a new problem in a strange land and you manage to solve it. I really miss all that, and even though I love my family and I like to spend time with them, the call of the wild is stronger. I left this instinct sleep for a few years but now that it’s awaken again there’s no way to put it back to sleep. I watch the pictures from my trip and I’m back there, with the sounds, the smells, the breeze and my heart starts to long. I have to be patient and wait just a little longer and I know it’s for a reason. But it’s really hard, I’d take the first plane out if I could, but I’ll try to calm myself and use this time to organize better my next trip. I’m like the scorpion from the tale, it’s beyond my control.
I arrived in Varanasi the ancient city, the sacred city after a bumpy, cold and sleepless night ride. It seems I’m not getting much sleep anywhere these days. As usual the bus stopped in the most unlikely place and from there we had to find our way into the city. Of course there were plenty of tuktuks waiting for us but I tried to book a Ola cab (the Indian version of Uber). When it works Ola works pretty well but when it doesn’t…. Well you can imagine. I booked three times a cab and one of them cancelled on me, the other two didn’t show up. In India money is apparently not an issue. If you feel like working you do, otherwise you don’t. So in the end I had to resign myself to share a tuk tuk with a guy from Belgium that was in my same bus. We agreed on a price but arrived in the city the tuk tuk driver told us to get off as he “couldn’t go any further “. There is apparently a restricted area in Varanasi, but from where we were many tuk tuk went further… Anyways… So me and Belgian guy had to take a rickshaw, that dropped us 5 minutes away…
We got off pretty angry and parted our ways. I had booked at Chatter box hostel and he was going some place else. I started to walk and found out that there is a “pedestrian area” in Varanasi where cars and the likes cannot enter as the alleys are very narrow. But motorbikes are of course more than welcome honking their way through the maze. And cows of course are welcome (gigantic cows), and stray dogs and their puppies are welcome so you have to walk your way skipping motorbikes, cows and their enormous dumps, dogs and vendors.
The entrance to Chatter box is pretty dodgy and there’s no sign to indicate that the hostel is there but then the place is pretty neat and very quiet and I was, at least for a few hours, alone in the dorm. As I was tired from the previous sleepless night I took a nap and then decided to go out for lunch. Following the directions and suggestions of “Happy cow” and went to Nyiati cafe. The place is very small therefore usually full but the food is very good, fresh and inexpensive.
Satisfied with my lunch I went back to the hostel to find out that I had a roommate, Angel from Madrid. We started chatting and had a good connection straight away so we decided to stick together for a few days. In the evening we had dinner next door , in this pretty famous place called Brown Bread Bakery (not to be mistaken with the one of the same name located close to Golden Temple, pretty horrible place). I had enough of thali, rice and fried food by then so I tried my luck and ordered a pasta with walnut sauce and a salad to share with Angel. The salad was OK, the pasta not so much but hey, this is India, you’re not supposed to eat pasta!!! After dinner we went to the banks of Gange river to assist to a very strange ceremony of dances, songs and fire. Very complicated and really interesting. They perform a lot of acts of devotion to whatever god they have and then in the end they wash their heads with the river waters…. when in the meantime a few blocks down they wash and burn dead bodies or else in some case they drown them with a stone tied to their feet.
The following morning we went again back down the river banks to assist at the washing ceremony when people take a plunge in the Gange before going to work and so use the same plunge to wash themselves.
The following day Angel and I boarded a train, my first train!!! headed to Khajuraho to visit the “Kama Sutra temple“.
While walking around the city I realize how good it was to have Angel on my side as he was showing off his muscles – he’s a PE teacher – and so people, men to be precise, were intent to check out his body and I was the invisible side kick.
The night ride on the train was far better than the one on the bus but I still couldn’t really rest. Indians can be very noisy, many snore (I’m not being racist, it’s a fact confirmed by locals) and the berth are not extremely comfortable. Moreover as it happened in the bus, I got frozen by the gusts of cold night air coming in from everywhere. On the train, thanks to his “good body, good muscles” Angel made friends with this local guy who at some point got stuck something in his teeth. As he was trying to get it out with a piece of paper I offered him my dental floss only to discover that he had no idea what that was. So I told Angel to teach him how to use it… and Angel told me he had no idea either!!!
Arrived in Khajuraho we took a tuk tuk to our hostel called Prem’s home stay that a girl from our Varanasi hostel had talked about with much enthusiasm. Prem’s place is a bit far out of the city but it is a very pleasant place, quiet and peaceful. The room we got was nice and clean and Prem is extremely helpful and friendly.
The morning after our arrival we rented bicycles and went visiting the famous Kama Sutra temple. The complex is pretty impressive, in the very center of the city, clean and well maintained. In the area is possible to visit some 6 or 7 beautifully decorated temples and some of them have on their walls some pretty explicit sex scenes which is very curious considering the fact that Indians are not open about sex affairs and naked bodies.
That night we had dinner at Raja’s cafe. The food took a long time to arrive. I was in the mood for salad and I ordered one with sprouted lentils. Such a disappointment. The sauce they used was something weird with a particular unpleasant taste so I had to eat a cookie afterwards to clean my mouth from that horrible taste. At night Angel had belly issues due to the fact that he had milk for breakfast that morning (having milk is not good for your health, I tell this to everyone!!!). But he decided that he was willing to travel the following day as planned and at 9.30 am we boarded a train to Udaipur. Although Khajuraho and Udaipur are only 800km apart, it took us 21 hours to reach our destination. The train network in India is pretty complex and not necessarily user friendly.
Another almost sleepless night and we arrived in Udaipur, a very nice city on the lake Pichola, kind of quiet (as quiet as India can get that is) with a very nice Royal Palace to visit.
We booked a room in Hotel Lake Star that looked very good in the pictures. Arrived there we discovered that the place is under a major restructuring so not at all what presented in the pictures. Still our room was nice and clean and I couldn’t wait to have a good night sleep in my bed!!! The next morning we had breakfast in a cafe nearby called Little Prince restaurant by the lake. Awesome food and good prices!
In Udaipur Angel and I decided that out ways were to part. I wanted to move south to reach asap Goa and some quiet beach. Angel was going back to Delhi to catch the flight to his next destination. I planned to spend just one night in Udaipur and the second night take the train to Mumbai but I discovered that the direct train to Mumbai doesn’t run on Monday. Of course… So the option was to spend two days travelling and sleeping on trains or stay one day more in Udaipur and take the train on Tuesday night. You guessed right. I stayed one night more and not to pay for a double room all by myself I checked in at Banjara hostel. Not the best place I’ve been, management is pretty unfriendly and uninterested but the room was OK. The first day after Angel was gone I took back my role of “stupid tourist with a lot of money ” and I wasn’t invisible anymore. Darn!!! I tried to book my train ticket over internet only to discover that international cards are not accepted so I resolved myself to go to the train station. Where once again I was the “STWALOM” and I had to pay 100 rupees extra just for being a foreigner. …
That night for dinner I met with Sanjay a very smart local guy met through Couchsurfing and we had dinner at Dream Heaven where I had a veggie burger with a ton of fries. Yummy! That same night I was back on a train with Valentina and Javier a couple met thanks to Angel. Some 14 hours later (and another almost sleepless night) we were in Mumbai.
So I finally moved out of Myanmar too. I stayed a little less than a month but it felt longer. And not because I didn’t like it but rather the opposite. Myanmar felt good, I made a home for a little while in Yangon and I was really having a good time. People are nice, food is good and cheap. The land of men in skirt (it’s actually called longyi) where men (them again!) chew all day long betel nut and get their teeth burned out by limestone (an utterly disgusting habit), where blood red spit is everywhere, where they drive on the right and the steering wheel is on the right also (second hand cars from Japan) made me feel welcome. Not a single moment of insecurity, not a moment where I felt I was in danger. But as we know all good things come to an end and it was time for me to move on. I was on the stage where it’s either you settle down and find a job, or you leave. And I left.
To close my adventure with a bit of a heartbeat I realized when I was half way to the airport that I left my passport back at the hostel where I spent my last night. Luckily I left well in advance so I had the time to make a U turn, go back to the hostel and make it to the airport to catch my flight. But jeez my heart raced!!!!
So now in Dhaka Bangladesh I think about my days back in Yangon and for the first time I am nostalgic. Dhaka is very different from Yangon, it’s a crazy city and people look at me as if I was an alien. Buy it’s fun, my CS host is extremely nice and I’m sure that by the time I will get use to this new dimension it will be time to take my next flight.
So even my time in Myanmar has come to an end. Tomorrow I will be on a plane direction Dhaka, Bangladesh. I have to admit that I had a very good time here. Myanmar is a very nice country, I expected to like it and I haven’t been disappointed. My time in Yangon has been a revelation. I spent my days at Adrian’s, a Filipino guy that have been living here for the last years. He lives with a Filipino girl accidentally named Adrienne. During the time I spent at Adrian’s and Adrienne’s I took part in a surprise birthday party (for Adrienne) a house warming party and to the FAB party, LGBT community party in Yangon that takes place one a month, last Saturday.
So Adrian has taken all the pain to take me around, show me the city, take me to the cool places in town (Gekko, Rangoon Tea House, Penthouse, Sharky’s) and then convinced me to go to FAB (never been a big fan of disco parties). But I’m SO GLAD I gave in and went to FAB party. The place was packed with LGBT people and friends. The crowd is very mixed and people are there just to have fun. In a way it made me think of my early years when I used to go dancing with my friends on Saturday nights. I haven’t done that for ages, until yesterday. All the people met during my stay were there and it made me feel happy, people were having a blast and so was I. And I didn’t even drink! There were boys and girls (and all that’s in between) of all shapes and sizes and I was not even the grandpa of the party!
Yangon and the people met here managed to give me even if for a while the sense of home, comfort zone limited in space and time that I needed. Now I’m ready to move on. The time has come for me to move to another place, time to meet other people, time to live another adventure.
Now that I’ve left Malaysia I see how much more westernized it is comparing to the other SE Asia countries.
I’ve spent around 40 days in the land where number 4 is forbidden (4 and death have the same sound in Chinese), where English is phonetic (teksi, polis, julai… Etc) and the currency has the name of a cartoon character (Ringgit).
I was not meant to spend all that time there but I decided to extend my stay and take a massage course. Kuala Lumpur is very cheap comparing to every other big cities I’ve been. Food is extremely cheap and being multicultural by nature you can find every type of food. I got stuck with Indian, and with roti canai in particular (https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Roti_canai).
The population is composed by Malay, Chinese and Indian for the majority. Only a small percentage is made of foreigners (and there are many). In Malaysia is difficult to meet people (as explained in my previous post) but I still managed to meet a few very cool characters. In particular my CS hosts. The islands are beautiful places and in general pretty well preserved. Tourism has not corrupted all yet.
Every nationality is well integrated in Malaysian lifestyle but each of them keep their own specifics. Chinese feel Chinese, Indian feel Indian (as opposed to Malay) but neither of them would like to live in their original country. It’s funny how they insist on the fact that they are this or that although their passport is Malay.
I volunteered for 2 weeks in Oriental Heritage House and even if nothing went wrong I didn’t enjoy the experience (but the house is amazing!!! https://m.facebook.com/orientalheritagehouse/). I didn’t really learn anything and the communication with the management is very poor. Also it is in a very quiet area but this means that you’re far from the city center and the public transport is very bad – as in Kuala Lumpur in general. So, since I was busy only in the mornings I decided to fulfill a dream that I had for long time and take massage classes in the afternoon.
After a research in internet I decided to go to Wellness art training centre (https://m.facebook.com/well.ness.3158) in the very center of the city, a few steps away from the famous towers. It all started on a bit bumpy way. I had discovered that my CC had been cloned so my bank blocked it. Therefore I could not pay the entire price in one go and the management insisted that I had to pay before starting the class. I told them I could not and if it was a problem I would just cancel the course. They told me it was OK but the didn’t stop to send me WA messages asking me how I was and when I could pay. So at one moment I told them that their attitude was very annoying because I felt they didn’t trust me. And I understood that they don’t know me so why should they trust me but also told them that in Europe you can pay in two or three times and it was not an issue. And the management replied that in Malaysia things are different. And so I realized that even in the small things we have to be careful. We all think in different ways and we should understand that something that is absolutely common for us it might not be for some other culture.
If I had to choose one Asian country to live in Malaysia would be one of the candidates but honestly I felt a bit lonely there. People told me that Malaysia is cool, fold is amazing and places are beautiful. And it is true. But still. There’s something missing that I cannot quite spot. I still enjoyed my stay in KL and I loved my massage classes.
So… Where to start…
I’ve been in KL for more than one month now and I think it’s time for me to move on. The time spent here it’s been good, a needed a little nest to make home for a little while. Travelling is cool but it’s also tiring and every now and then is good to go back to the comfort zone.
But yeah my time here is up. I realized it yesterday. It took me time to buy the ticket to Cambodia. And not only because of the problems I had with my credit card (yes. It’s been cloned… but this is another story…). It’s been difficult to make up my mind and buy the ticket because I was good here in KL, I had a home again and it was nice to settle down in the everyday routine. But luckily for me KL is not the place I wanna settle down again. It’s a big city but still very human in a way. The prices are honest (apart from the rent, like in Barcelona basically) and the food is good. But the dark side of it all is that people here are very busy, for real or not.
It’s really hard to meet anybody, let alone get to know them. Via couchsurfing and other apps I got in touch with hundreds of people (not kidding) but I managed to meet only a few. They’re all super interested in meeting with you but you can never get a date from them. And when you finally get a date they cancel at the last moment. Or you meet, all goes well, “let’s meet again ” but again never comes. You have to organize with at least a couple of weeks in advance. It’s true that distance here can be discouraging and that public transportation is awful but still… There is always something else in the middle. Commitment is a word that is not really taken into consideration in KL. The enthusiasm is killed easily. I feel like they are collecting chats or friends in CS or FB. The virtual word is waaaaaay more important that the real one. Even when people go out together they are checking their phones all the time. There is always someone or something else capturing their attention. They’re there but not really. I’ve wasted so much time and energy try to connect with locals and in the end I was so frustrated that I decided not to open any app anymore.
I have only a few days left in KL. Time to finish my classes (to be discussed in next chapter) and then I’m off to Phnom Penh. I’m really looking forward to visit Cambodia. A change of scenery will do me good.