Romantic Udaipur
Mood:  amorous
Topic: India
Amorous? Not quite really. Udaipur is the most romantic city in India, as claimed by numerous guide books and commentry. However, when one probes further to find out why, the only apparent reason is their 'shimmering lakes' and glorious palaces.

It is the dry season and half the lake is dried up. I walked on the dusty terrain where water used to flow. It wasn't glamourous at all, pollution, garbage and all. With the scotching afternoon heat burning on my back, I find it difficult to percieve this place anywhere close to being romantic.

Udaipur and Singapore
Mood:  cheeky
Topic: India
Udaipur is reputed to be the most romantic city in India, and I'm still trying to find out why. In any case, I asked my hotel manager this morning what does 'pur' means, as many Indian cities such as Jodhpur, Jaipur contains that three letters. He joked and said, "Well, it is like Singa-'pur'. Udaipur is really just next to Singapur!"

Cheeky!

Somebody got into the hospital and it wasn't me!
Mood:  accident prone
Topic: India
Jaisalmer is a city North West of India, where it was a very important stopping point for the trans-Thar route between India and the Middle Eastern State. Right now it has little political significance but act as a starting and ending point for travellers keen on experiencing the desert on camels.

So Helen (the English girl I am travelling with), myself and Oliver (a English bloke who decided to tag along our travels since adruptly joining us at our guest house in Jodhpur) went on a 3 day safari on camels. It was wonderful most of the time, us on camels trekking through a variety of arid and semi-arid terrain, each afternoon we spent under the shade from the scotching hot sun. At night we would sleep under the starts after a hearty meal of Indian food and chai. On the last day, unfortunately, Helen's fiesty camel decided to throw a fit when the guide decided that it was a good ideal to take him for a run. The 2 metre tall monster roughly chucked Helen into the air and she landed heavily on the pebbly ground.

She survived the ordeal, thankfully with only bruises on the left side of her body, a swollen bottom and wrist. For safety reason we took her to a hospital and had her X-rayed just to make sure nothing was broken. It was surreal, going to a hospital in the middle of nowhere in India, as though like a collection of memories of hospitals around the world.

I found the answer for "1/2 hour 1/2 way?"
Mood:  a-ok
Topic: India
"India, as it happens straddles two time zones, but for obvious reasons preferred to have one uniform time throughout the country. Rather than choose between GMT+5 and GMT+6 (which would make dawn and dusk in the far reaches of the country either unusually early or unusually late), the government apparently decided to split the difference."

For a more complete picture, refer to the following site...
Answerhttp://www.straightdope.com/classics/a1_124.html

1/2 hour, 1/2 way?
Mood:  incredulous
Topic: India
London is 8 hours behind Singapore. Melbourne is 3 hours ahead of Jakarta. New York City is 6 hours behind Continental Europe. But whoever's heard of 2 1/2 hour difference? The first bizzare thing I noted about India is that it is 2 1/2 hours behind Singapore. How did it happened? I must find out...!

A few good men
Mood:  caffeinated
Topic: India
Let's begin the tale with the 3 good men I met at the New Delhi railway station. This morning I spent a total of 90 minutes trying to get a train ticket to Jodhpur to meet Helen (my English travel mate). After 20 minutes of wandering around aimlessly, I was "caught" by a station master who took me into the ticket office, introduced me to his colleagues and told me about his 2-3 years spent in Singapore working for the India High Commission. His colleague then spent the next 15 minutes analysing the unruly Indian rail schedule to help me locate the right train and right time. He then directed me to the foreign ticket bureau where I met kind man no. 3 who closed the deal by getting me the ticket that I needed. If not for these men I might still be wandering around Delhi's train stations.

From my hotel I took a motorised tricycle to Old Delhi where I planned to visit the Lal Qila (Red Fort). The driver started off with the common niceties and I was amused and chatty for a while. Then he went on to suggest one-night-stands "with a good lady like yourself" (in spite of me telling him that I am married). I said "No," Worse was the detour he tried to make in order to get me to a shop that sells "good stuff at really good price," and I said "No, NO!!!" The ultimate horrid thing he did was to stop me 1 km short of the entrance to the Red Ford and tried to short change me. I refused to get out of the vehicle until he paid back every single cent he owed. All I could stab him with as I escaped from my seat was, "You are a dishonest man!" I should have tried to overturn his tricycle.

The 1 interesting man I met was a Mandarin speaking Indian who sounded like a Beijing Chinese.

In Red Fort, the largest of Old Delhi's monuments, old centre of the Moghul and all that jazz, 3 young lads asked me to help them "take a picture," I happily agreed thinking that they wanted me to take a group shot of them, until I realied that they actually wanted to take pictures of me shaking hands with each of them. My my, perhaps I resemble someone famous in Bombay.

Finally, at the majastic Jami Masjid, I was inspired to do a brief sketch of a section of the mosque. It took roughly 10 minutes, but the onlookers gathered from 1-2 disinterested passer-bys to more than 10 Indians of all shape and sizes gawking at my disasterous `master piece'. I've never felt so much stress doing a simple sketch before.

So in less then 24 hours since touching down I've had a taste of the colourful characters of India. 30 something more days and counting...

Preparation for India
Topic: India
Last Monday was my training day for India. I had gastric flu and spent 24 hours excreting both upwards and downwards - to put it a little more pleasently. Or maybe there is really no easy way of describing vomitting and diarrheoa. I was completely stuck to my bed, and took me real courage and strength and my mother and my brother's car to drag me to the nearest GP. Even until today I feel queasy at the sight of food. Now I realise that my usually invincible stomache has its bad days too.

Meeting up
Mood:  amorous
Topic: Australia
I had dreamt of that moment a thousand times, but what actually happened was rather awkward and stiff. He looked exactly the same since we parted 5 months ago - tired, stressed and overworked, not what I had expected at all. Then I realised that perhaps it was in his nature to work harder then is expected of him. Which moved me to an extend.

We spent 1 1/2 hours together in total, chatting about general things happening in our lives, catching up on gossips. I spent most of the time trying to appear as nochalent as I possibly could, while in reality my heart was racing faster than Michael Schumacher. He asked me about what I wanted to do with my life, and poked about various ideas I had. It was a strange irony, I avoided asking him questions because I remembered how he didn't enjoy my provocation. Yet there he was trying to draw something out of me.

And then we parted. I stayed behind the junction and took one more look at him walking away. We promised to keep in touch, he suggested dropping by sometime late this year, which made me wildly estactic - for I thought perhaps it would be the last time we meet. Yet if I could choose I want to see him again and again and again some more for the rest of my life.

Where do I go from here?
Mood:  not sure
Topic: Singapore
This isn't where I've intended to be... I've had it all, I believed in me, I believed in me... (pardon me, a modified version of Evita theme song)

1. Travelling does not make one happy.
2. Travelling does not provide a better sense of direction in what one wants to do with one's life
3. I am a shite photographer
4. I am fat
5. I still don't know what to do next.
6. I am jobless
7. I am broke
8. I don't want to travel anymore
9. I am still staying with my parents
10. My Spanish still sucks

Alright let's be a bit more optimistic and say nice things..
1. I had crossed 7 continents in 1 year
2. I am the fittest I had ever been in my life, despite being 26 and past one's athletic prime
3. I have made some friends all over the world
4. I wrote 3 songs in the past 7 months of my life and 0 songs in the 25 years before that
5. I have higher alcohol tolerance then before... (is this really a good thing?)

I'm going home!!
Mood:  happy
Topic: Africa in brief
I'm going home, after 4 brief weeks in Southern Africa!

The Magic of Africa
Topic: Africa in brief

In my second trip to this continent the magic of Africa had vanished from my memories of this magnificent part of the world. Two years ago my visit lasted only 2 weeks. Yet in that short period of time I was completely bewitched by the rawness and simplicity of this region. East Africa was already touched by tourism then, but the trade was not so developed that one loses touch with the indigenous. It was like tasting a wholesome home cooked meal of top quality ingredients and minimal fuss. The original flavour dominates the palette rather than the condiments.

Southern Africa was equally besotting in its landscape and rich flora and fauna. However, the entire episode felt as though I had paid a visit to the playground of the rich white travellers. All sensations were carefully packaged and all taste buds catered for. One is able to pay by cash, traveller's cheques or credit card. The locals were conveniently left outside the box allowing only tiny peeks though the slits of the carton. That was probably for our own safety.

In my return visit to Africa it felt like dinner at a fancy restaurant. My ideal image of Africa as the wild wild land was thinned after reading a book `A brief history of the continent Africa', which explained its geographical, evolutionary and cultural development. Gone is the fantasy of Africa as the natural and untamed world. Now I remember this place with a realistic perception that it well deserves.

Home Sweet Home
Mood:  happy
Topic: Trans Siberian
After 31 days of leaving London, spending 10 hours on 3 planes, 25 hours on 3 buses, 137 hours on 5 train, 7 countries later I arrived in Singapore. And boy am I happy.

Southen Africa next. Time to stock up on travelling gears, catch up on rest, and most importantly, quality time with family members.

Swiss Army Knife
Mood:  sad
Topic: Trans Siberian
As Tolstoy would have explained, as he did painstakingly in `War and Peace', when something happens, good or bad, it is difficult to attribute the cause to a single source, as we are used to thinking. The twin towers were destroyed because Osama wanted it annihilated. China was modernized because Sun Yat Sen wanted it changed. The characters no doubt played an important part but the event, or phenomenon was nearly a result of a chain of smaller happenings, the lack of the smallest one would break the spell and disrupt the result.

A few days ago I booked a flight from Beijing to Shanghai deciding to treat myself after weeks of train rides. Until the evening before I was planning to set aside a generous amount of time to get to the airport. Then the son of my mother's friend very kindly decided that he would take time off work and send me to the airport.

Unfortunately, he was caught in the jam and was very late. Upon a wait of 35 minutes, I decided I was in trouble and hailed a taxi instead. The cab driver must have been a reincarnated F1 racer, and miraculously got me to the airport in time. I checked-in by the skin of my teeth. Tragically, in the mad rush, I left my Swiss army knife, a generous gift from my work colleagues from London, in my hand luggage.

The sharp eye custom officer found it. I tried to check it into my main baggage but the counter was close by then. It was confiscated. I was devastated and cried my way down the isle of a very full flight full of inquisive passengers and kind stewardess.

If I hadn't flown. If I wasn't late. If my mother's friend's son hadn't decide to pick me up. If I hadn't forgotten to check the knife in. If the security officer wasn't as sharp-eyed. If blardy George Bush didn't spread his damn American paranoid disease around the world. Just the lack of event I would still have the knife in my hands today.

Mongolia
Mood:  incredulous
Topic: Trans Siberian
Day 24/32, 6/8/2004

"Mongolia is a very special country, you must always remember that," I told Baiela, my young Mongolian guide who was fresh out of school with a novel curiosity about the world.

Firstly, it is the only nomadic race known to have created an empire as vast as the one conquered by Chinggis Khan. In fact the empire was so massive it was often regarded as the largest ever known to the history of mankind.

Secondly, they are the only Orientals (vague term I know, but they are most certainly genetically closely related to the Chinese, Japanese, Koreans) who are keen on sports. In spite of China's recent achievements in the Olympics, historically the people were never fond of athletic work-out (with the exception of Martial Arts but that was mainly for self-defense purposes). The Mongolians, on the other hand, enjoyed a good exercise almost as though it is of second-nature to them. Horse-riding, archery, wrestling, boxing. We should be glad that few Mongolians in history were ever politically ambitious!

I enjoyed my short stay in Mongolia tremendously. Not only was the scenery gorgeous, the people were amazingly kind and helpful. Once our van was stuck in mud in the middle of no-where, and several men who were passing by immediately dropped whatever they were doing and spent the entire afternoon in scorching sun the help us pull out the vehicle. One family I visited was housing another Mongolian passing by their camp. Unfortunately he got drunk and smashed one of their bowls and screamed vulgarities at the hostess. She was shaken, but I had no doubt that she would still have sheltered that very same man that very same night regardless. I suppose in a country where the conditions are as harsh as Mongolia, it is practically a necessity for people to help one another unconditionally.

Russian-Mongolian Border
Mood:  celebratory
Topic: Trans Siberian
Day 20/32, 2/8/2004
On the train from Irkutsk (Siberia) to Ulaanbaatar, plenty of passengers were Mongolian, and they often mistook me to be one of them. Yet it was impossible to communicate as I speak no word of Mongolian.

As we were entering the Mongolian side of the Russian-Mongolian border, I became a little apprehensive. I held a Singapore passport, and I was supposed to be one of the very few nationalities allowed into the country without a visa. After the customer officer, a very solemn looking lady in a military uniform scrutinized my passport, she kept it aside, claiming that she will return in a while, while other passports were simply stamped and returned on the spot. About 20 minutes later, just as I was starting to sweat, 2 giant uniformed men marched onto the car looking for `Singapur'. By the time they reach my cabin, many passengers had their head out of their cabin looking for some action.

To my bewilderment, one of them asked me in Mandarin if I spoke any Chinese. My eyes lit up immediately and I said "Yes!" Then he began a string of questions, mostly to do with my trip, while the other man was examining every single page of my passport. The entire car was quiet, I almost felt everyone was holding their breathe listening to the two of us converse in this strange (and beautiful) language. Finally, the Chinese speaking man told me "Don't worry, we are only being cautious because we hadn't seen the new version of the Singapore passport before, and we just wanted to make sure." I uttered a chuckle of relief, and that broke the tension.

It was almost amusing by then, the two man and several Mongolians beside them looking at all the exotic stamps in my passport. "Hm... Brazil... Ah... Argentina..." they murmured amongst themselves.

"Don't worry," the man assured me once more, smiling this time, "We were curious about your passport. Have a safe trip and goodbye!" The other man returned me my passport and they promptly marched off the train.

And with that I arrived in Mongolia.