Hitchhiking South East Asia: some tips!

A view from a pickup truck, somewhere close to Phonsavan in Laos
A view from a pickup truck, somewhere close to Phonsavan in Laos, just before the monsoon rain soaks me!

During my last couple of months in Cambodia, Laos and Thailand, I didn’t hitchhike as much as I usually would. I completely lost the enthusiasm for it – maybe I had hitchhiker’s burnout, so to speak. However, I did do some hitchhiking whilst I was here! These are my tips, or observations, of what worked for me, mostly as a solo traveller: Continue reading “Hitchhiking South East Asia: some tips!”

48 hours in Phnom Penh (part 2): a dinner date with the Filipino Mafia

“HELLO!” a woman shouts at me and waves from the back of a scooter. She gets off and walks up to me. “Oh! I’m so sorry!” she says, grinning. “I thought you were a friend of mine. You look exactly the same as her!”

We get chatting. Sue* is about thirty-five years old and tells me that she is from Thailand and is visiting her brother, who lives with his wife in Phnom Penh. “Do you know London?” she asks. “My sister is going to be a nurse there.”
I tell her that I lived in London for years.
“Will you come to my family’s house for lunch and meet my sister? She’s nervous about moving to London and she doesn’t know anyone there.”
“Well, actually, I’m busy right now…” I reply. Sue looks visibly disappointed.
“Maybe later then? When are you free?”
We agree to meet at the same spot in a few hours.
“Don’t eat!” Sue says with a huge, friendly smile. “I will cook you a big meal!”

I walk away, bemused by the persistence and friendliness of Sue, but not surprised by her invite or her openness. After all, I have had countless invites to strangers’ houses in my years of travelling…..

* * *
Continue reading “48 hours in Phnom Penh (part 2): a dinner date with the Filipino Mafia”

Thunderstorms in Thakek, temples in Champasak and burnout in Kratie!

The Thakek countryside
The Thakek countryside

Another guesthouse, another set of rules on the bedroom door. In this hotel, I’m not allowed to stick naked pictures on the wall. Damn it.

I’m bang-smack in the middle of Laos, in a place called Thakek. Back in 2007, Tom and I did The Loop, a 500km scooter trip on red dusty roads, staying in beautiful bamboo and wooden-housed villages. I’ve come back to see what’s changed.

The countryside around Thakek is still one of the most beautiful places I’ve seen, with its huge jungle-covered limestone rocks. Like years before, I hire a scooter. But this time it’s monsoon season and I’m alone. The rain lashes down on me and thunder crashes so hard around me that it feels like the sky is going to collapse. I drive against the pelting rain, frightened of the mightiness of Mother Nature, but with an enormous smile on my face as I experience the Earth’s powers.

Continue reading “Thunderstorms in Thakek, temples in Champasak and burnout in Kratie!”

Cluster Bomb Country: more travels in Laos

A roadside warning in Laos
A roadside warning in Laos

I’m in Luang Prabang. A man walks past in a T-shirt that says Same Same. The phrase, known to everyone in South East Asia, sums up the backpacker life in Laos. Everyone’s travelling to the same towns, doing the exact same route, staying in the same guesthouses, eating in the same restaurants, and reading the same copy of the Lonely Planet. People are even wearing the same clothes (including me!). Conversation is always the same: “Where are you from?”, “Where are you going?”, “Have you been to….?”

Whilst travelling in South East Asia, you don’t need to use your brain: restaurant menus are in English and every guesthouse will book a bus ticket for you, so you don’t even need to attempt to buy your own tickets. I find myself turning into a Travel Snob: the kind of person who I usually frown upon, who thinks of themselves as more authentic than other travellers (“I’ve hitchhiked through Iraq, don’t you know?!”). Because of this, I decide to get off of the backpacker trail, say goodbye to the Same Same T-shirts and hopefully leave my conceitedness behind.

Continue reading “Cluster Bomb Country: more travels in Laos”

The devastation of Laos’ rivers

The peaceful, perfect Nam Ou river in northern Laos
The peaceful, perfect Nam Ou river in northern Laos

I meet Sydney for the first time in the night market in Luang Namtha. I tell her about my Grand Plan to travel by boat down the Nam Ou river to Luang Prabang and retrace a journey I took seven years ago. There’s a catch, though: public boats no longer run down the river because a huge dam has been built by an evil corporation. I want to hire a boat to the dam and witness the destruction of what was once the most beautiful area in the whole of Laos. Then I want to hitchhike in the areas where it’s not possible to sail. Sydney’s never hitchhiked before, but within half an hour of meeting, she says, “it sounds fun. Let’s do it!”

Waiting for a truck or car in Pakmong...
Waiting for a truck or car in Pakmong…

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Georgia and Armenia: The Wrong Time Of The Year To Visit The Caucasus!

Kar means snow in Turkish, and the north-eastern Turkish city of Kars certainly lives up to its name. The residents here are super-friendly and the kindness of Turkish and Kurdish people can be compared to nowhere else. The Turkey-Georgia border close to Posof is very remote indeed!

The border is somewhere in these mountains!
The border is somewhere in these mountains!

I don’t like borders because of political reasons and also because when I travel alone I always have problems. For some reason, a lone female hitchhiker whose passport is almost full with stamps raises suspicion. The Georgian border is no exception, and I am made to wait whilst everyone else is ushered through. The border guard makes a phone call about me before finally letting me into the country.

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An Update About Hitchhiking Solo As A Female In Turkey

I wrote this blog post when I was feeling very low after experiencing sexual harrassment whilst hitchhiking. This post is not meant to scare women, and I hope that you will find the comments section at the bottom useful, as a number of people have commented.

I have previously written a lot about Turkey, gushing about the people, the culture, the nature. And whilst I still love Turkey, it is certainly a country of deep contrasts. There is super-traditonal next to super-modern; hideous five-star hotels close to poor farmers┬┤ houses; modern women walking alongside the traditional women who wear headscarves and baggy Turkish trousers; a generosity and kindness that I have known nowhere else, and yet a huge amount of racism towards Kurdish people.

And I have experienced contrasts with the men, too. I have hitchhiked hundreds of cars here, and I have always encouraged women who want to hitchhike alone, as most people think that we shouldn’t do it. However, I want to list my bad experiences here, because sadly they are starting to add up (BUT the good experiences far outweigh the bad).

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An Irritating Itch in Condom: Two weeks in France

I hitch the channel once again with Peter, my regular lorry-driving saint. I am migrating south for the winter and am feeling more excited than usual: I am not doing my usual route through what my friend Arjun describes as the Ordnung countries, where everything and everyone has to fit into boxes within society (Germany, Austria, Denmark…)

I meet my friend, Conor, in France. He is on week-one of an overland adventure to Japan. Together we travel to beautiful Ardeche and visit Fran├žoise, my travel-buddy in Turkey last year.

Conor and I travelling through France

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