Franz Kafka

Blog 21

One of many reasons for my travelling is to loose myself and to, paradoxically, find myself. My planetary movement is just my way of making the whole process easier but for those of you that, for one reason or another, cannot travel at this moment in time, maybe this will be of consolation. It's a quote from Franz Kafka but I must credit the author Tom Robbins for bringing it to my attention.

You don't need to leave your room.
Remain sitting at your table and listen.
Don't even listen, simply wait.
Don't even wait.
Be quite still and solitary.
The world will freely offer itself to you.
To be unmasked, it has no choice.
It will roll in ecstasy at your feet.
Speechless.

Go wrong,to long in Koh Rong,prt 2, a super moon and a spooky Mexican,

Blog 20

We took what we needed to take and I downed a couple of beers. It helps with the transition as the veils fall away, allowing you to easily break through the fine membrane that separates realities. As Hilary Clinton and I were coming up, so was the biggest super moon in living memory. The sky over Koh Rong was clear as it pushed its way, with confidence, through the starscape While it was low in the night sky it was truly impressive. 

Noticeably larger than usual and the most beautiful peach colour. Hilary and I were feeling rather peachy too but we where just slightly higher in the sky. We wandered off, along a tree lined track in search of the full moon party. Now, sometimes, you just have to be an adult about some things so Hilary and I had already got our faces painted up with glitter by some pixie girl on the beach. 

So there we where, Hilary Stardust and Aladdin sane, floating off down the track following the distant drum beat.
It was still quite early on and the party was only just starting to warm up. We mingled, feeling, and slipping into the vibe. I felt a rush run through my body like someone had poured warm water in the top of my head and it had run through the inside of me. My fore arms had a sweaty, chubby feel to them. My stomach felt tickled with excitement. My lungs felt warm, watery and I could feel them wanting to breathe in deeper than usual. The calves of my legs gave slight pleasant spasms. I knew they had developed a mind of their own and wanted to move independently. Who can blame them. Then the inevitable beads of sweat broke out on my top lip like a salty moustache. Three... two... one... Whoosh. The next thing I know is that I'm in deep conversation with someone I've never met before. The conversation was beautiful, very intense but totally positive and we couldn't agree with each other more. On every subject. And probably covered most subjects. At the same time as this was happening, my arms decided to take a leaf out of my legs book and were slowly weaving and rotating as if trying to unscrew themselves at the elbow. The bottom half of my body looked like it was treading grapes. Oh well, it looks like it's having fun. Leave it be. The night carried on with many beautiful encounters dispersed with allowing my body to wander off in search of more grapes to tread. At some points I would walk off into the warm sea, the ripples around my legs shattering the reflection of the stars into a myriad of new universes. My toes working their way into the sand as if experiencing the sensation for the first time. If my toes could giggle there would have been bubbles of laughter popping on the surface of the water. Palm trees in my peripheral vision, I looked up at the night sky, the moon, the distant silhouette of another island and sighed a deep, long contented sigh. 'I'M HERE'. I thought.
As the night wore on other things wore off and just as the sky was turning deep royal blue (Gods warning sign of the onslaught of morning) I found myself lying on a bamboo platform just observing. Perfectly content, just observing. 

The night sky had an overlay of sacred geometry spread across it. It had meaning to it. There was a secret hidden in it. Many travellers, like many people in general are heavily tattooed but the tattoos on these cats were like nothing like I'd seen before. They emulated the geometry of night sky. Then like a dream you try to hold on to upon waking, the tattoos dissolved and the bodies either followed suit or just dissolved into the darkness beyond my vision. I'm still not too sure which. It was at this point that the big Mexican guy with his oversized sombrero stood up from under the palm tree and started walking towards me. 'How long has he been there?' I thought as he to dissolved a little more with every step, in front of me. The veils were being drawn closed again. Farewell my Mexican friend maybe we will meet again.
I fell asleep in a hammock outside a closed bar. I closed my eyes and plummeted into blackness. I awoke, more dishevelled than usual, paint and glitter smeared across my face. I was now surround by customers, who in all honesty had probably seen it all before. I was so wasted that I couldn't care less, anyway. I got up, stumbled into the toilet of the bar, had a slash and wandered to my dorm to recover. When I woke up later that evening my bed looked like a Christmas card made by a five year old. It was covered in glitter and sand............... Speechless.

Moral support.

Blog 19

My mate sent me a couple of emails complaining about the weather in England at the moment. Because I'm a good mate I responded with some moral support. 

Hopefully helping through the drudgery of his day at work. SUBJECT: Drama queen.
I do feel you're being a bit over dramatic about the weather. Have a bit of consideration for me, man. Even though it's already 8pm I still have to waft the bottom of my T shirt to get a nice draught up it. That's the problem with you. It's always me, me, me. 

I have to drink cold, soothing beer every evening just to keep perfectly comfortable and you don't hear me fxxking moaning. Do yer. Grow a set. Right, my mate, I'm off for a happy pizza. By the way, what's on your sandwiches today?

You see, that kind of friendship is priceless.

Speechless.

Now I know why the Italians drive like fxxking nutters.

Blog 18

I skipped off to get something to eat. This is how it goes: 'Happy pizza, please'. 'Happy pizza'. 'Yep, real bloody happy. I want it grinning from ear to ear'. 'Ok, ear to ear. 1st quarter of pizza: 'Oh dear, that's not broccoli'. 2nd quarter of pizza: 'The only good thing about this beer is that it's served with pizza' 3rd quarter of pizza: ' There's that dog again'. Last slice: 'Fxxk, I'd bette.....................................
Now I know why the Italians drive like fxxking nutters. They're all smashed off their heads on pizza!.

Speechless.

Happy, Happy, pizza, please!

Blog 17

The difference between 'happy' pizza/shakes and 'magic' pizza/shakes is wanting your mum and taking Thorazine for the rest of your life. Bullshit man, I would endorse both of these to any of my clients, if I had any. 

I had a happy pizza tonight. This is how it goes: 'Happy pizza, please'. 'Happy pizza'. 'Yep, extra happy happy'. 'Ok, extra happy happy'. 1st quarter of pizza: 'Nice pizza but I can't taste much'. 2nd quarter of pizza: 'The only thing happy about this pizza is the fact that it's served with beer'. 3rd quarter of pizza: ' look at that dog pulling a funny face at me'. Final slice: 'fxxk, I better pay for this'.

Speechless.

Debauchery.

Blog 16
The view approaching Koh Rong island is one of those views you don't need to take a photo of as it is deeply etched in your mind and as time passes, the mental photograph only improves. All that was missing was some black dude, leaning up against a wooden piling, singing 'sitting on the dock of the bay'. It is the eve of the biggest super moon in living memory. So I'm expecting chaos............ Nah, don't like this first person, here and now narrative. I'll save it for when I need it. 

It was the eve..........Have you noticed how I'm using........................a lot lately? I quite like it...........................do you? It made me feel like singing a sea shanty, until I saw all the backpacks. But, in all honesty, even though there are many like myself on the island, its super ultra chill. I expected to see drunken westerners staggering along the sand track, kicking a light covering of the powdery white stuff over their spew. 

We were the only ones doing that.
Kevin is great but so as to protect his anonymity I will call him Donald Trump (made up name). Donald has the best. The purest MDMA, clean synthetic mescaline and pure liquid LSD. According to Donald, his LSD contact is a seventy eight year old chemist who was one of the four original chemists to cook up the original California sunshine. I haven't googled it but I had no reason to disbelieve him. Donald Trump tore the veil many years ago and is now quite comfortable flitting between parallel universes. He dropped two splashes of acid on his tongue while I was talking to him. Contrary to what some of you are thinking, Donald is switched on and with it. He is alert and eloquent. A psychedelic scholar. Unlike myself. 

My friend, Hilary Clinton (made up name) and I were like a pair of kids in a sweet shop. and got a mixed bag. May I point out at this point that I've just pointed out that before leaving the un-United Kingdom of (formerly) Great Britain that I had not touched drugs apart from mild hash for about twenty years. I hadn't touched a drop of alcohol in eight months and hadn't smoked a cigarette in two years. Oh, how quickly we slip into decades old habits. When given half the chance.
So it was the biggest full super moon in living memory and we were loaded and we were on the island of Koh Rong.........................but that's another story.

Speechless.

Go wrong too long in Koh Rong, prt 1 (The shit ship.)

Blog 15
The boat was about forty five minutes late, which in Cambodia is on time. There were, approximately two passengers for every life jacket. I think this was done purposely, for the entertainment value of the crew, watching the fight break out as the boat goes down. Die laughing. Why not?
Just to add to it all, the narrow walk way was blocked with fold out chairs to squeeze more passengers in and probably add to the crews entertainment in the case of an emergency.
I stealthily slid out the back and sat outside next to the big diesel engine which was held in place by an ancient strop and a ratchet that was rat shit.
The steel of the ratchet was rusted so thin that I kept giving it the odd glance, thinking 'this could go any minute and if it does, the whiplash will peel the skin off my face'. Are you having your dinner? Good. The toilet was the most amazing sight. I took a photo of it. I will see if I can upload it. Basically the floor, the walls and even THE CEILING were covered in shit. Now due to the fact that I didn't see any elephants on the boat doing 'dirty protests', my only explanation is that the toilet exploded. Boom! Oh shit! You may want to put your fork down for a second. On closer inspection you could see that it was dried and had been there for a while. The conversation between the crew must have been 'Bog's blown up again'. 'Well don't look at me, I'm not cleaning it. I'm in charge of hiding the life jackets'. ''Ah, fxxk it, the flies will polish it off within a couple of weeks and it's only the passengers who use it, anyway.
Entertainment boys, entertainment'.
Much to the disappointment of the crew, no one drowned and no one used the toilet.
Koh Rong island is, well................. another story.
Speechless.

Bloody double bugger,"Right that's it"

Blog 14

I've lost everything lately. I lost my mind on Otres beach. I lost my dignity at the village. I lost my soul on Koh Rong (it was last seen floating off towards the biggest ever super moon). I hope it's alright. 
But most of all, I lost my sandals! The problem is that I can't remember my steps to retrace them. What a bugger. They were nice too. Leather. Yes they were too big for my feet but that just stopped me from stubbing my toes. Now they're gone. Maybe my soul is wearing them. If so, give us 'em back, yer bastard and get back in my body! 
So, I waited five days.... shoeless, hoping they would turn up. It hasn't happened yet. So, the next logical step (scuse the pun) was to buy some flip flops. Yeah, right. Flip flops are only worn by masochists with strange shaped toes. I paid three dollars to walk like a goose with gout. 
I gave up after about twenty minutes and just carried them in my hands to show people that I actually am posh and do own footwear. You see, over here only the poorest of the poor have no footwear...... well them and lost boy travellers. Anyway, I lost my bloody flip flops within twenty four hours! I  mean that's just  abusing  irresponsibility. on the way to Koh Rong.. Bloody double bugger. Right that's it, I thought. You don't deserve anymore footwear Your just gonna have to live with it. So there you have it, no soul, no soles. But don't you worry. I'm creating my own reality, so I created Nichole, a Scottish chick, who is very cool and she donated me her flip flops. I don't wear them but I do keep a good eye on them.

Devlin had a bottle of vodka in his hippy briefcase. Devlin is from Wyoming. I don't know where the bag was from but it probably had a story to tell. Who doesn't. By the time we arrived at Sihanoukville we were all loaded. It all started early that day with breakfast of herb and beer soup wrapped in a cigarette paper. We fell out of the tuk tuk as the driver, traditionally, pushed a big bag of buds in our face, informing us that only he had the very best. Wow, what a coincidence because so did the last driver. We did the international sign language of  'No thanks, already sorted' by tapping the bulge in our pockets and winked at him. Wilting buds in hand, he watched us drift into the nearest bar and promptly order iced water and health juices..................Nah, that was the table next to us. When a jug of good cold beer is $0.50 you don't hmmmm and haaaa too much about what you're going to drink, hey. ( there is a tiny, little, cute cricket on my screen at the moment). So we kicked back for a while, having to put up with frustrations like wiping condensation off our beer glasses and looking at palm trees that were too lazy to even sway. They didn't need to. 
We were doing it for them. Because we're considerate like that. Then the boat to Koh Rong arrived. 
But that's a different story.
Speechless.

Hedonism.

Blog 13

Guess who's back. Speechys back. Guess who's back. Yes I'm back. yes I'm back. Yes I'm blah blah blah. You couldn't care less, could you? Any of you. Due to the fact that no one even reads this, even less of you care about this dross that spews forth from my mind (eat shit Shakespeare). So, therefore, I shall indulge myself in meandering through the dirt strewn alleys and no go zones of my mind and to hell with the lot of you. 

You won't have realised that I have been missing the last few weeks but I have. This is what happened: I got a message saying 'This is ground control to major Speechless. Take your protein pill'. 'This is major Speechless to ground control. Yep, sorted. Smashed. but, fxxk, I forgot my helmet. It's either under my bed or I might have left it at my mates house and he's at work today. Can I just use this tin foil and wrap that around my head, as usual?'.

If anything I am consistently inconsistent with my storytelling but I will fill in the lost stories in my own good time. I have video footage to jog my waning memory (that's a lie. It's as sharp as a knife). What was I saying? Oh yeah. I am now on the coast in southern Cambodia. I arrived in Sihanoukville after one night in Phnom Phen or however it's spelt. 

One night is enough. Sleazy, peado riddled filth hole. I turned left and went to the village If you're the facebook, twitter, LOL type, go to Serendipity beach it's much more your scene. If you're strange go to the village. It's calmly, serenely, peacefully outrageous. It's not a secret place by any stretch of the imagination but at the same time I'm not telling you where it is. The wild thing is that a certain type of mind seems to gravitate there. It has quite an anarchic feel to it, as in anything goes, within reason, but if you take the piss the police will NOT be called but fair justice will be served. Common sense, basically. 

The whole area, reaching out to the islands has a time stretchy surrealism about it. It's like however much you splash your face with cold water, you just can't quite wake up out of this dream state. It's like being in a bubble of clear blue water. Observing the world but not interacting. The area is very psychedelic  VERY PSYCHEDELIC!

I've got a good little story to tell you about the island of Koh Rong but first I need to let off steam regarding SANTANDER BANK. I can't remember the Cambodian/Khmer word for cxxts, so cxxts will have to do,  Basically some naughty little bugger tried to steal all my money. How inconsiderate. So SANTANDER BANK. CANCELLED MY CARD and left me in the middle of nowhere with no access to money .Again, how inconsiderate. Anyway, credit where credit is due, they kindly did fxxk all about anything and it cost me £1.50 PER MINUTE TO CALL THEM PLUS WHAT THEY CHARGE. Yeah man, big, shouty letters because it took 35 minutes to find out they have zero customer service. Slightly annoyed, I'm fxxking rape-able. So go take a shit SANTANDER BANK. Same goes for the rest of you. I'll save the rest for another time, which is a shame because it involves sacred geometry spread across a night sky, sacred geometry tattoos spread across a body, of which I do not know whether the sacred geometry was a vision or that the sacred geometry was there but the body was a vision. The Mexican guy with the big sombrero was definitely a hallucination. Oh, and another th.....................................
Speechless .

'You've given me too much, you stupid, rich, tourist dickhead'.

Blog 12


As I was leaving Siem Reap today I thought I had better treat myself to another Tarantula just in case I don't come across any for a while. My bartering is improving. I got one tarantula, one scorpion and a bag of crickets for a dollar. The crickets are tasty and have a bit of lemon grass and chilli mixed in with them. They do have a slightly pissy after-taste, weak ammonia. Unlike the wonderful grasshoppers I had today. I got an old bus from Siem Reap to Battambang today. I don't know the age but it did have a very 1970's feel to it. No big deal, it was only a four hour ride. We stopped half way at a bus station and there was an old-.ish lady with a large pan of grasshoppers. One tin can full for 2000 riel (40 pence-ish). (enough with the ishes). Again, these were served with lemon grass and chilli and thrown in a plastic bag. Fantastically tasty and honey sweet. I would, honestly have them over tarantula. just be careful with the skinny ends on the back legs. Possible choke hazard  Best not give the legs to young children, old people (who would be better off with crickets. Something to blame the pissyness on) or little kittens. Haven't been in Battambang long enough to give a decent opinion but I feel good here. I bought some rambutan fruit from a lady on a market stall. I over paid her by 1000 Riel. She handed me back the money, saying in Cambodian 'You've given me too much, you stupid, rich, tourist dickhead'.I saw a Buddhist  monk today, dressed in his orange robe, smoking his cigarette, talking on his mobile. Om Mani Vodafone.

speechless.

did I kill one chicken twice or two chickens once?

blog 11

The guy who runs the hostel is great. Friendly, efficient. the guy who runs (I use this word very loosely) the bar opposite is rubbish. I've seem him get up in the morning and walk over to his hammock where he lays straight back down and hopes to avoid any type of work. His pregnant wife does all the work.
The other morning he obviously needed money and was hustling all the customers to come to his barbeque. Usually I wouldn't bother with this kind of thing but I thought I should treat myself to a good feed. I paid my 50,000 kip (more than double what I would usually pay for a meal). 
The bbq was supposed to kick off at six pm. At five thirty pm he hadn't even managed to rock himself out of his hammock. He eventually stirred and wandered off to look for a chicken. more than likely the first one that strayed into his path, regardless of who owned it. So, he returned all puffed out chested, like a returning hunter, carrying a single, solitary chicken. 'Some bbq this is going to be' I thought. He called me over and handed me the chicken saying Wait there. You kill, you kill. He went into his 'lean to' shack/kitchen. Maybe there's going to be a traditional little ritual he's going to get me to do with a sacrificial knife or something. He came back and handed me a broken chair leg. 'You smash head. I make fire'
With the chicken safely dispatched with a good ancient, ceremonial  double tap I went back and relaxed . After about five minutes I could smell smoke. This was just about when the rain started. Five minutes after that I could strongly smell burning rubber, like someone was burning a bike tyre. 'Surely he's not. I bet you he is' I thought 
Now this next bit is bizarre because I still don't know if I was being played or if it's true but he came back around to me and said 'Chicken not dead. Kill, kill.'. Sure enough I walk back into the hovel and there it is .Sitting there looking quite unharmed ,alive ,alert and healthy. This is a different chicken I thought. 'He's winding me up here. I gave it a good clobbering'. Anyway, I picked up the ceremonial chicken dispatcher and went to work again.This time I thought I would ring it's neck as well just to make sure. So after a swift clonk I grabbed it's neck at which point it decides that it wants to take up jogging. So there I am kneeling down on a dirt floor in a darkened hut with a chicken flapping like crazy while I'm trying to throttle the life out of it after smashing its head in with a sacrificial chair leg and I'm thinking to myself 'Bloody hell you were vegetarian before you came out here. Now look at you. Oh well, it can't get any worse I thought to myself. I quickly changed my mind when a bit of boiled chicken neck was slid in front of me with a bit of rice. Obviously he was nowhere to be seen. Already slid off to buy his crystal meth or what have you. Needless to say, the chicken was on par with the rest of the bbq.
What I would really like to know is; did I kill one chicken twice or two chickens once?
speechless.

Please Sir, weed?' Sir, sir, you want smoke?'.

Blog 10

I'm staying at the Cambodia backpacker hostel, Siem Reap. I've only been here for a few days but Cambodia may possibly be my new favourite place. It is very laid back, even the roads, which are chaotic, are somehow laid back chaos and all the road users are so patient which each other. The Cambodian people are, so far. my favourite and it is the people that make or ruin a place. They seem happy and seem genuinely friendly. They are always joking with each other and when they smile at you, which is all the time. there does seem to be a genuine warmth behind it.

I will probably head to battambang next, which is supposed to be very nice. I ate a tarantula yesterday. It was delicious. It was bloody big. It's a bit of a touristy thing but I really wanted to try one.. The guy wanted a dollar for it. I wasn't paying that for it so I got him to throw a scorpion in for free, also very nice but not as nice as the tarantula. The scorpion as you would imagine was quite crunchy where as the tarantula was quite meaty with good taste that you can't quite put your finger on but I'm not paying that price every day. I will just treat myself occasionally. I saw a woman walking down the road yesterday with a clear plastic bag about the size of two shopping bags full of tarantulas. I think they are mainly out in the country but there must be a decent amount of them. I would quite happily pay one dollar for four and they're clearly not a rarity.

Cambodian drug pushers are so polite. 'Please Sir, weed?' Sir, sir, you want smoke?'.  So, all you surly, arrogant western pushers take a 'leaf' out of the Cambodians book and show your clients a bit of respect.
Going to Angkor Wat tomorrow

Speechless .

I have already reached the point of what is medically termed scenic saturation.

Blog 9

There is a small but beautiful beach at the top end of the island. The currents of the Mekong look quite unforgiving. Lapping up on the beach as if sniffing for foolish tourists. But more than the currents, it's the sand here that's the killer. It's a dark silty affair, possibly iron sand. It's so hot that by the time you're at the point of no return you realise what an absolute dick you were for leaving your sandals in your bike basket. I was fully expecting massive blisters.

I have already reached the point of what is medically termed scenic saturation. It often happens quite early on in the journey. It's quite common world-wide but is rampant in many parts of South East Asia. The first symptom is being somewhere beautiful this can be contracted by word of mouth or by reading about it, the first generally being the  more severe form. In all cases the patient can be seen staring off into the most stunning view without the eyes registering its full glory. Watching butterflies from a hammock is the only known cure. Recovery time depends on how early on it is spotted and the quality of your hammock. 

I  discovered I had it again after about twenty minutes of cycling through jungle on a dirt track I realised I had been cycling trough jungle on a dirt track for about twenty minutes. That makes perfect sense to me.

On the way back to Dondet I cycled through a small township/village. It has quite a shanty town feel to it certainly with the rutted out undulating main street/dirt track. I would have been locked up in England for this but I was filming a load of kids in a primary school. Now before all the accusations start flying, the reason I was filming was because in the school grounds was a condemned building in a severe state of decay. A good section of roof had collapsed and had vines growing up through it just getting a good finger hold before the next bit of natural demolition. During their playtime young children were sitting on the walls of this crumbling building while others ambled aimlessly inside or leaned against the doorless entrances. It was just everyday life passing by but this time with me thrown into the scenario. Its a nice island to get away to and slowly mooch around. I will probably go back in the next few days. I thought I was going to like it more than Dondet but I don't so there.

Speechless.

I sometimes think mother nature would enjoy listening to death metal.

Blog 8

Hiya, been without internet. We're without water at the moment as well. 

We had an amazing thunderstorm the other night. It was so unbelievably loud, and the lightening rather than being fork, was blanket, which lit up an eerie and sharply silhouetted panorama. Everything seemed more animated. It was as if the trees had nearly been caught out mid stride and were acting frozen just long enough for the flash to dissipate . Sometimes it was brighter than day. On some of the more intense flashes I felt an urge to turn away, as if witnessing an atomic explosion. It felt so violent and electrical that it didn't seem natural. It felt like an intimidating show of power. The amount of water that fell out the sky defied belief. The noise of it hitting all the corrugated tin roofs sounded more like gravel being shovelled on to them. It lasted until the early hours. 

10/10 for audio and 10/10 for visual and no CGI in sight, unless you believe in the simulated universe theory. 

I hired a bike and cycled to Don khone. The typical 70's style girls bike with the basket. After walking everywhere, recently, it felt like time travel. 

You cross from Dondet to Don Khone over an old, arched bridge. If I remember correctly, it was for the railway from the French occupation. I carried on to Somphamit, which is a pretty cool waterfall mixed in with a set of surging, snaking rapids. I worked my way, rockhopping, down to a set of rapids and sat next to them just to feel the energy, which again, was loud, violent abandon. 

A powerful display of 'don't F**k with me. Don't even get in my way'. I sometimes think mother nature would enjoy listening to death metal.

Speechless.

Buffalo Dog.

Blog 7


We've got chickens. They weave about you looking for anything worth scratching or pecking at. They are usually followed by a trail of cheeping fluff bags. I've got geckos that slap about the wall and ceiling and make noises much louder than physics should allow for their size. I've a dribbbly little ginger kitten sprawled on my stomach, right now. But it's my next door neighbour who wins any animal competition. He's got a dog that's a water buffalo. It's rubbish at catching balls though and you can't get it to chase sticks and you would also need a bin liner as a doggie poo bag. It's very well behaved though. I haven't heard it bark once. Buffalo are wide spread across the island and are often seen grazing under the shade of a tree on the walking path. They don't spook easy, unlike cows, and are quite friendly. They are partial to a good tickling behind the ear. Funnier faces than cows, as well. So, basically, what I'm trying to say is that a buffalo is a dead good cow but a rubbish dog. I came across an albino buffalo the other day. White bristles and pink skin. From behind it looked like a monster pig. Pigs are plentiful here and are more of the Vietnamese pot belly style. Very funny. Very friendly. Some of them look like they've been coloured in with crayon. the colours and patterns are great. Again their habitat is in the shade of a tree on the side of a path or under a thicket of bamboo and if they've got some shit to mooch in they are as happy as a pig in shit. Animals, people. All laid back here. It's difficult not to be. The scenery, where ever you are on the island, (Dondet) soothes you. The flow of the Mekong pacifies the monkey mind. The whole area is a natural sedative. People are always telling us to hurry up. Well, my faith lies in nature and nature's telling me 'What's the rush, man?' I don't intend on finding out but I wouldn't be surprised if it's physically impossible to be able to rush here. A chicken has just jumped up on to the table. I'm sure if it stays there long enough someone will shoo it off. It's about 12 inches out of range for me, so I'm helpless. Anyway, yeah, rushing. What a preposterous idea. Who thought that one up.
Speechless.

Time passes here with great difficulty.

Blog 6

Time passes through here with great difficulty. It gets stuck on stuff like trees and peoples minds. Out in the river channels you can see it gathering and sometimes, evaporating. Decades blending into each other. 

Others being lost from memory. 

It's about 1972 at the moment but you need to realise that tomorrow may herald the beginning of the sixties. This is due to the currents in the Mekong causing spiralling time thermals. It's all very scientific. Time doesn't totally stop here, it just slows to a sufficiently sensible and enjoyable speed, but I know through instinct that within about a mile from here it must come to a Total stand still. I'm not far away . I'm definitely close to the centre.

On my walk I discovered a new species of frog  I've named it the Laos puddle frog (Puddlus Froggus Laosus). It looks like your average frog but it lives in puddles. Even on a small island like this, out in the rice fields there is a temple/monastery and a healthy scattering of stupas. If you would like to hear an understatement of the view it would have to be surreally picturesque. Regardless of what you hear, traditional Mekong village life is going on all around you and like time on the river it is blending nicely with 1972. 

Of course there are signs of expansion but nothing too horrific. River life is interesting and abundant with photo opportunities. I've been to places like this before. They are very, very dangerous and if you're not careful, like time, you will get caught up too.
Speechless.

Tuk Tuk from the hostel.

Blog 5


Sabadee, Okay, one tuk tuk from the hostel to the bus station in Vang Vieng. One mini-bus from Vang Vieng to Vientiane. One sleeper bus ( haven't got a clue why they are called that) I was at the back and sometimes getting serious airtime.The rest of the time I was just getting gently pummelled. Comparable to a massage from an anxious sumo wrestler). from Vientiane to Pakse.
One mini bus from Pakse to Aintgotaclue (really, I don't know what it was called) One boat from Aint-got-a-clue to Don Det (Don Dhet). after being awake for approximately thirty five hours, I finally fell asleep, with my clothes on and Jimi Hendrix playing through the computer and slept heavily through until 7.30am this morning. I'm staying at the 'Easygo backpackers' on Don Det (Don Dhet). It's the sister hostel to Easygo in Vang Vieng. Both are super chilled and both are the cheapest place to stay. Usually works that way. So I got right up. I slipped on my t-shirt and shorts (nothing else needed, not even sandals) and did my first 'tour de Don det' Try saying that if you can't speak. The island is about 1km across and about 3km long. That's just a rough guess. Stop being lazy, google it. Then tell me. 'They' say it takes about 2 1/2 hours to walk around the island. I did it in about 4 hours walking like an Aussie from Darwin. Lots of hopefully good photos and video. My first port of call was a riverside shack for a Laotian black coffee. Sufficiently energised by the sublte coffee high, I hit the road...well, path.....well, narrow dirt track. You see the occasional moped pass by but the main transport is bicycle or foot. I prefer foot, it's about the right speed for this island. Walking barefoot slows you down even more and is the ideal speed around here.
Speechless.

The butterflies here take your breath away!

Blog 4

I've been mooching in some caves, limestone jobbies with small tunnels opening into huge chambers. the only word your able to mutter is 'f**k!' as you take a sharp intake of breath. They are truly awesome. They are truly freaky as well, as I've been going in alone with just my headtorch, f**king really freaky spooky man. 
These things go on for miles.The cave yesterday had really big spiders in it living in pitch blackness. 
You could easily get lost as there are many branches and if you follow them, they then branch off again and again and go on and on deep into the bowels. I got a bit confused yesterday as to where I was, only for a few seconds but, man, a few seconds of dread is a long time when you're in the bowels of the planet, on your own. 
There are some beautiful rivers to swim in. I rented out a old 70's style girls bike with a basket on the front for 15000 KIP (£1.50) and f**ked off, in amongst it, just roaming through spectacular scenery. It's great. I think I'm starting to get the knack of creating my own reality. 
Speechless .

Sabadee 🦂

Blog 3
Hiya all, or should I say Sabadee,
Just a brief update. I spent a few days in Bangkok getting over the flight, adjusting to the climate (approx. 33deg and 90% humidity) and trying to saturate myself in South East Asia. I couldn't decide whether to go to north Thailand or straight to Laos so I went to the train station and let them decide. So, I'm now in Laos. I took a train in the cheap seats carriage which was quite hard going, approx. 12 hours. I arrived in Nong Khai about 4 am with no sleep. I walked from the train station to friendship bridge on the Mekong about 1 mile. I got a local bus across the Mekong into Laos. 
Spent a bit of time in Vientiane, which is the capitol, being offered marijuana and heroin. I'm now in Vang Vieng, which was one of my favorite places in S.E.Asia. I didn't recognise it. It's full on tourism bullshit, full of 'hippy for a week' types. Whiskey addled backpackers. Happy pizzas (dope pizza), opium tea, pre rolled grass joints, bags of dope etc, all on the menu at many bars and restuarants. Thankfully, the countryside is still as stunning as ever. The mountains are cartoon-like. They're like something out of a Dr Zeus book. The villages are idyllic. I've been mooching around in the jungle and have found some primo wild camping sites. Thankfully, I've got me a DD hammock so I'm going to be off the ground as when I was climbing up the side of a jungle mountain the other day I came across a massive black scorpion. I knew it wasn't too toxic as it had big powerful pincers ( a sign of weak venom). it was the length of my hand from wrist to the tip of my middle finger. I took a photo of it with my hand next to it for comparison. It's called the Laos black forest scorpion. It's the largest species of Scorpion.
Speechless.

Risks I've had a few but then again too few to mention!

Blog 2

Hi all, I'm re-learning the art of irresponsibility, therefore, yes I can see a few risks coming up. 
May as well sit at home otherwise. Spent 10 days straight in my hammock before leaving. I've fallen in love with it. I will post some freaky photos of crazy places that I camp. 
I didn't realise that hammocking was such a huge thing. A real lifestyle. 
Taking a gopro and a camera this time so you will be able to see a bit more of it all this time. 
Yeah, f**k  it all man.  Sold my bike, kayak, everything, f***ed work off, people can go take a shit if they want owt doing by me. 
Got nothing now apart from the shit in my backpack. Got my lifesaver bottle. That's how I got typhoid last time.
Possesions are shit. I've owned nothing It's all owned me, and although it was a bit sad getting rid of my toys it's a nice relief. Freedom! Priceless! 
I hope I'm still as crazy as I used to be? 
Speechless .