A Bowl of Stupid

After traveling to most of the best surf spots in the world, I know firsthand that guys like this actually DO exist … en mass. And sadly, most of them are American.

Sigh.

Life here in Indonesia during the dry season can get pretty redundant. As I’ve mentioned previously, while it does seem (and, for the most part, IS) the idyllic situation to be based in a tropical paradise and the surf capital of the world, the concept sometimes loses its appeal even after only several weeks of nothing more than ‘surf, yoga, sleep, read, rinse and repeat’.

I’ve not reached that point … yet. But I have reached the point where I’ve taken to driving anywhere from 1-2 hours each morning to the more preeminent surf spots on the island. Yes, because now, when the season starts up, there are very few other places in the entire world that can match the perfection of these surf spots (including “Impossibles”, pictured above and where I’ve been going out for the past few days when the latest swell hit). But also because it’s simply SOMETHING TO DO besides read or watch TV.

Yes, my plan is to hunker down in Indonesia for the summer (i.e., until October) in order to save a few bucks. And yes, I’ve had some really fantastic surf sessions in the past week or so. Yet, despite all that, if I don’t get off this island in the next couple weeks for at least a few days, there’s a distinct possibility that I’ll take up skeet shooting or veterinary school just to liven things up a bit.

Crap, I think I really need to get a job again. Sigh.

Okay, as noted in my last post, I’m traveling again through Southeast Asia. I’m doing so despite having an underlying feeling of apathy towards this whole expedition.

For the most part, I’ve stayed with my initial travel plan (I picked up a nasty head cold the day I left, which I had neglected to work into said plan) — I took off by overnight sleeper train from Bangkok to Ubon Ratchathani, where I caught a taxi (i.e., some guy with a car) from the train station to the bus station, where I caught a bus to the border town of Mukdahan.

I had been misinformed about how to get over the Thai-Laos border (e.g., the Mekong River) from Mukdahan, and I took a tuk-tuk from the bus station to the actual border bridge — where I found I had to pay to get back ON a bus (which I could have caught for the same price back at the bus station) to ride over the ‘Friendship Bridge II’ into Laos.

Once over the bridge, the bus promptly disappeared into town without waiting for me (apparently having served its purpose of taking me across the 200 meter-long bridge), leaving me to take yet another tuk-tuk the 8 km or so into the Laotian border town of Savannakhet.

I eventually wound up staying in Savannakhet for a couple days — first, because I felt like shit and needed to rest; and second, since I was TOLD the only bus leaving town for Vietnam would not be leaving until then. When I did wind up on that bus, it only took me as far as the Vietnamese shithole town of Dong Ha, where I had to pay almost as much as I did for the bus from Laos to go the next 67 KM down to Hue.

So here I am. In Hue, Vietnam — which is known for its infamously bad weather. It has not disappointed.

For the sake of brevity, for anyone ever interested in going this route (up to this point, of course), in addition to the above and the general stuff of doing a bit of research beforehand, I also have these following suggestions:

• Avoid the Savanbanhao Hotel in Savannakhet, Laos if you want to sleep — although recommended by several travel guides, it also owns a restaurant/nightclub RIGHT next door that’s open until 2-3 a.m., and I’m pretty sure it’s a front for a whorehouse.
• Avoid buying a bus ticket from Savannakhet to Hue from Saphon Travel (also recommended by some travel guides) — they don’t actually bring you to Hue, but only to some shithole of a town called Dong Ha, where they will tell you you need to stay in their hotel overnight until you can buy ANOTHER ticket on their next bus to Hue, which leaves the following morning (for essentially double the price you would have paid for a ticket directly to Hue from another company).
• Try to get rid of all your Laos Kip before you leave Laos — there’s little to no need for it once you get on the bus, you can get Dong from ATM’s in Dong Ha or Hue, and you will … repeat, WILL … get ripped off if you try to exchange it for Vietnamese Dong with those little gnome-ladies on the Laos-Vietnam border (one way or another: for another person, they fucked him on the rate; for me, they simply grabbed my cash and ran) — just like the James Gang, there’s a reason they all wear face-masks.
• Trust nobody here until you know them — despite being a ‘communist country’, many of the Vietnamese I’ve met to date are some of the most opportunistic and slyly deceitful people I’ve met. Whereas folks in other Asian countries I’ve visited and/or lived (especially the Buddhist and Hindu ones, where they believe in Karma) will always try to out-bargain you — even to the edge of theft — I’ve never had anything actually stolen from me until Vietnam (so far, I’ve had money and my camera stolen here in only 2 days).

All in all, Vietnam is a fascinating place. The people are esthetically gorgeous. The food, while not outstanding, is interesting and diverse. And the history is extensive. But I’d rather be back in Bangkok.

* Extra points for anyone who knows, or cares enough to cite the reference.

Seven Senses — “Who Ever Said Life Was Fair?”*

For anyone still playing, I’m still hanging out in Railay Beach (Krabi, Thailand). I head back to Bangkok later this afternoon after spending an AMAZING long weekend down here with a great bunch of friends celebrating the 25th (ahem) birthday of a good friend of mine.

We rented a 4 bedroom house, we took the obligatory boat trip to Maya Bay, we got ridiculously trashed (ahem) for most of the weekend, and 1-2 of us wound up sleeping very well at/on/behind the various bars on the beach (from what I heard).

As noted above, I’ll be back in Bangkok later today, at which time I’ll decide where I’m heading next … at this point, possibilities include Laos, the Philippines, Sri Lanka, Indonesia (again), or out into the Pacific (for the surfing ‘long haul’).

If anyone’s got any travel ideas/suggestions (noting that my primary interest is in getting some good surf), I’m keen to them.

* While I usually shy away from posting inside jokes, chances are the only people still checking out this dribble are the 8-9 folks with whom I spent the weekend anyway. For all others, sorry, just trust me … this shit is pretty funny.

So anyway, apparently I own some island in the Persion Gulf — a big tourist spot with the Middle Eastern crowd or something. I quote from their website:

Kish Island is a resort island lapped by the sheltered waters of coral-edged lagoons, home to many of the world’s spices of reef fish. Snorkeling in the Kish Island is amongst the best in the world, whilst scuba diving offers an even more spectacular insight of life beneath the waters.

Kish lies like a pearl across the turquoise waters of the Persian Gulf and is a heaven of peace and tranquility fringed by sandy beaches and coral reefs vivid with colorful fish.

Pretty freaking sweet, huh?

Umm … well no, I haven’t checked to see if it’s ACTUALLY my island … but it IS named after me (Kish Island), and that’s pretty compelling evidence, right?

Umm … well yeah, I guess it IS in Iran, but so the fuck what?!? Now that President G.W. Cockmunch is almost out of office, we’re not still buying into that whole ‘Axis Of Evil’ bullshit, right?

Dude! … C’mon!! … It’s an island!! … And it’s got my name!! It’s GOTTA be mine!! I’M RICH!!! IT’S MINE, ALL MINE!!!

Conthequences schmonthequences, as long as I’m rich!!

Today — no pictures, no anecdotes, no nuthin’…

And you wanna know why? Cuz my surfboards (yes, that includes the BRAND NEW, NEVER BEEN FUCKIN’ WAXED, SEVEN FOOT PERFECTION BOARD I JUST BOUGHT!) are now, as we speak, traversing the underbelly of the Jakarta lost luggage department.

They’re either there or they’ve already been sold for a new house in suburban Jakarta.

Either way, I’m not a happy camper right now.

But fuck it, it’s only money, right?

RIGHT?!?!

Sigh …

Well, despite appearances (and some good shots from Mother Nature), I’m still alive — again.

And despite getting skunked for most of the 3 weeks I was in Rote, I still got some decent surf there (there were a FEW days the surf bumped up to 1-2 overhead). It was a bit more crowded this year than last, and I fear it is the beginning of the end for the place. But I’ll write more about that later.

I’m now back in Bali (God help me). I chose to stop here for 1-2 days en route back to Bangkok — I need to stock up on surf supplies, including a new board (or 2, if things go well). As has been well documented here, I had problems moving down to the 6’8″ Tuf-Lite epoxy board I bought before I left the States for good (not only is it kinda short and built wrong for my style of surfing, the epoxy gives it too much flotation, and loss of control, in bigger waves).

So instead, I just bought something almost exactly like this beautiful Gerry Lopez retro, Pipeline, single-fin classic:

Holy shit, I think I’m in love.

It’s a 7’0′ single-fin, double glassed, single concave, big wave classic. Fucking “A” man!!!

I can’t wait to get to the Philippines in a few weeks to try it out for real. It’s gonna take some more effort to guide it on my part, but I think I’m ready for it. It’s more suited for my bigger wave, wide sweeping turning style, than is the smaller, lighter board I now have. Truly, I’m getting tired of having to stay on that big ol’ mini-malibu of mine whenever I go out just cuz I either can’t catch the smaller stuff or get tossed around too much on the smaller board.

I’m hoping that, after the past couple years, my skill level has improved enough so that I can ride well enough, and truly enjoy, this amazing new board. I’m excited.

Okay, I’m gonna go post some new pics from Rote to my Flickr account … and, oh yeah, I should probably give my folks a call to let them know I’m still alive. I’ll write more in the next couple days.

Keep an eye or two open for the updates.

[Yours truly, waiting patiently at the Air Asia counter in the Singapore airport]

Okay, so here’s the thing — I hate planning return flights just because they tend to lead to confusion or unnecessary complications 1-2 months after the plans were initially made. Case in point:

I just spent a month surfing in the relative back-country of southern Sumatra, living ‘for the moment’ with no full-time electricity, no indoor plumbing, and little regard for the future or the past. And then, all of a sudden, I get wrenched back to reality with the realization that I have a schedule to keep — flights to make, places to go, and the like. It all gets very complicated very fast.

I came and planned on returning via airplane from Sumatra through Jakarta (a necessity since no planes fly directly to Bandar Lampung from anyplace other than Jakarta). Then, when I got to Jakarta, I had a return flight through Singapore solely for the purpose of picking up my other piece of luggage to bring it back with me to my new home in Bangkok.

So, the trip was ostensibly to be — from Krui to Bandard Lampung to Jakarta to Singapore to Bangkok.

Following so far? Okay, that makes one of us.

Things started off alright, but it all went sideways somewhere in the skies over Singapore. It was only then that I realized I had neither remembered nor written down anywhere the information about my return flight from Singapore to Bangkok. Given the number of airlines I’ve traveled with over the recent months, I couldn’t even remember which AIRLINE I was on. The only thing I could (or at least THOUGHT I could) remember was that I had an overnight stay in Singapore.

With that theory doggedly lodged in my cranium, I took my time getting things done when I got to Singapore at about 2:00 yesterday afternoon. Rather than take a taxi, I gave myself some extra time on a shuttle bus, stopped at a Burger King for much needed red meat, and then relaxed at a coffee shop down the street from my old apartment on Robertson Quay — waiting before I finally had to find a hotel for the night.

During that time, I also tried to find out what flight I was on today — trying via email, SMS, and finally waiting on the telephone with Thai Air, JetStar Air, Air Asia, and finally … Tiger Air.

Of course, being the last airline i called, I was booked to fly out of Singapore on Tiger Air. THAT DAY. AT 6:00 P.M. IN ONE HOUR.

D’oh!!!

I hustled as best I could to make the flight. I grabbed the first cab I found, gave the driver an extra S$10 for getting me there in 15 minutes rather than the typical 30 minutes. I got my surfboard out of the left luggage at Terminal 1 to bring it with me via another taxi to the Tiger Air counter at the ‘Budget Terminal’ 2 terminals away.

And, of course, I missed my flight. To take the next flight on Tiger Air, which offers non-refundable tickets, would have cost me about US$500.00.

For those of you that know me personally, I’ll leave it to you to guess of my response to that offer.

I considered the option of staying in town, as I had originally planned. After learning of GREATLY inflated hotel rates due to an international food festival being held in Singapore this week, I decided to try to get a flight out later that night.

Singapore and Thai Air assured me they could do it for the bargain basement price of US$800.00. I briefly considered flying back to Los Angeles, which was about the same price, but then I saw that Hilliary Clinton won the Pennsylvania primary and I decided to wait until after 2 November before even considering a return back to the States.

Instead, I checked at the Air Asia counter, which had 2 more flights heading out to Bangkok that night. I booked passage for me and my surfboards (almost the price of another ticket) on the later one leaving at 10:20 p.m. for about US$150.00.

Grand total I spent extra for being stupid enough to forget my airline, my flight number, and my flight DAY — including taxis, shuttles, baggage storage and transit fees (and the US$30.00 ‘exit fee’ I got jacked for by an immigration official in Jakarta), I put it at a rough estimate of about US$350.00.

That was one HELL of an expensive cup of coffee. Man, given this type of stellar intellect, sometimes I’m amazed I’ve made it this far.

(A picture taken of the break last year in front of the Karang Nyimbor Hotel — where I’m staying in Southern Sumatra)

I’m torn between my desire to detail for those interested in visiting the Krui area of Sumatra (where I currently am), and my desire to just talk about my own shit (like usual). So I’ll compromise and do a little bit of both.

There are several breaks in the Krui area — comprised of an exposed beach and reef that has good, reliable surf all throughout the dry season of March through October. One of the best features of the area is that it’s one of the only places in Indonesia that has some decent right-handed breaks (Indonesia is known as ‘land of the lefts’).

As noted previously, I am staying about an hour south of Krui town, in a small fishing village called Ujung Bocur. The entire area is an absolutely idyllic tropical setting.

When it’s working properly, the wave here (a.k.a. Sumatra’s longest left) is a quality long point reef. It’s a long, walled up wave with three connecting sections that breaks on all tides and provides some amazing rides of up to 1/2 a kilometer long.

Unfortunately, I’ve had only a few truly decent days of surf in the past week — it was initially a bit inconsistent due to a cyclone that was sitting off the northwestern coast of Australia (Cyclone Pancho — and no, I’m not kidding about the name).

As noted previously, there are several other minor issues with the area — all of which have been EASILY outweighed by only one (1) awesome day in the surf. The biggest issue is that, although there are some amazing surf spots all up and down the coast, most are very far apart, requiring a lot of time on the road, and you need to get to them before the afternoon wind gets up.

The second biggest problem is also probably one of the best features of the area — it’s isolation and difficulty to reach. I did it the ‘expensive’ way — traveling direct from Singapore to Jakarta (in West Java), then sleeping in the Jakarta Airport Hotel as part of the mandatory overnight stay (US$100 — an absolute FORTUNE in Indo Rupiah), then the morning flight from Jakarta to Bandar Lampung (in southern Sumatra), and then a privately hired ‘bemo’ (taxi) to drive the final 5-6 hours around the volcano’s to Krui.

• The total travel time to Krui from Singapore (including layovers, etc.), which is only about 250 miles away, is 2 days.
• The nearest Bank/ATM machine — 2-2.5 hours away by taxi/motorbike (3-4 hours if by public bus).
• English is hardly spoken or understood ANYWHERE in the area (except by the few ex-pat surfers living/running surf camps in the area).

Again, these inconveniences are becoming easily overlooked after only one day of getting treated like royalty by the guys over at Karang Nyimbor Hotel. The place is probably somewhat similar to how Bali was a few decades ago — no huge crowds of panting, overage Aussies, no huge shopping markets, no nothing, really.

And now the wind is dropping — the surf is picking up — the weather is gorgeous. Fucking ‘ell, man. It’s absolutely awesome. THIS is the shit I came out here for!! I’m going surfing for a bit, I’ll see y’all in a few days (or so…).

P.S. AmTrust Direct Bank STILL sucks ass!! Fuck, I can’t even get onto the AmTrust website anymore. Could someone back in the States try to get on and see if it’s just cuz they’re blocking overseas customers (i.e., ME) or if the entire Bank is gone. Thanks all!

So … I’m back in Singapore, en route to my next surfing destination.

I left Bangkok yesterday morning and I’ve stopped over in Singapore to visit with a friend, pick up some long-lost supplies, and generally get my shit in order before heading back down to Indonesia for the next month.

Among such supplies is my camera’s USB cord, which I left here in November when I thought I’d be back in only a few weeks. Now, almost 5 months later, I’ve FINALLY been able to upload the pictures from my recent trips HERE (the Philippines), HERE (Sri Lanka), and HERE (India) (sorry, no pics from Bangkok — my camera went ‘tits up’ a few weeks ago).

Oh, and Manny? … TK?

Just in case both of your busy ‘work schedules’ keep you from browsing through all of those pics — there’s a picture showing the aftermath of my Sri Lankan sea urchin encounter HERE, and another showing the result of my motorbike accident from the Philippines HERE.

Enjoy ‘em, you sadistic fucks (but I mean that in a nice way).

Anyway, I’ve also been planning on swinging through Kuta, Bali on my way out towards ‘all points water‘ to pick up requisite surfing supplies (wax, ding repair kit, fins, etc.). Kuta ain’t my favorite place in the world, but unfortunately, it’s one of the few — if not the only — place in all of Southeast Asia where surfing supplies are available (ironically, Phuket also apparently has one lone surf shop, but I wasn’t going to risk a trip just to find they had nothing I need).

Apparently, however, the second coming of Christ is happening in Bali this month — because every single fucking flight from Singapore to Bali is booked for the next 10 days (except first class tickets — which we all know I don’t qualify for). This has left me just a BIT flustered, considering that last summer I was able to get a cheap flight to Bali almost instantly.

Luckily, I learned that I’m not as dumb as I thunk I is. Apparently I’ve either got a guardian garden gnome or had the foresight to leave myself a care package here in Singapore — replete with surf wax, an epoxy ding-repair kit, and even extra fins. Nice!

So … fuck you Bali, hello Sumatra! (Krui, southern Sumatra … to be precise).

I’ve heard some pretty good things about the place — including the fact that it’s not TOO crowded yet. Considering the number of surfers I saw in Indonesia last year, I’m not holding my breathe. But all in all, I’m pretty stoked about checking out the Sumatran mainland. If things go well, I may even head up to the Mentawai Islands and/or Nias while I’m down in the area. We’ll just see how it unfolds.

Rather than wasting US$800 on an unnecessary flight to Bali, I can take a flight from here to Jakarta (and then onward through Bandar Lampung) for only US$35.00-US$45.00. This stuff just confirms my thinking that, if you just don’t force it, sometimes these things just have a way of working themselves out.

I hope to pick up the plane tickets later today, and then I’ll be leaving over the weekend. I’ll keep writing whenever I find Internet connections, so keep in touch. Stay well and have a good month, everyone. Peace, out.

Hey! Look who I ran into last night here in Bangkok!!

Either that or I’m still hallucinating from all the laew Khao whiskey I drank at and/or after (it’s still not clear to me which) the MTV Party at my friends hotel here in Bangkok. Uggh, just kill me now.

The party itself was great. I went to dinner with some friends I met down in Rai Lay Beach before heading over the the hotel rooftop, where the party itself was being held. It was a great venue, Rob Garza from Thievery Corporation was in attendance, as were some other great DJ’s. All in all, a fun time … from what I remember, of course.

Sho Nuff!!

It’s 4:00 a.m., I’m up all night in another random airport for the second time in 3 days, and I’m jacked up on a whole boatload of Nescafe instant coffee. This is the part of traveling abroad that they never tell you about on National Geographic Explorer.

Welcome to my fucked-up little corner of the world.

I finally made it!! After weeks of abusive viral infections and neo-hippie hombres, I’m finally out of India!

And probably not a moment too soon. I swear, I thought that place was trying to kill me — dengue fever, food poisoning, the constant smoke from all the burning garbage (and people). I really do feel about 1000% better now that I’m back in Sri Lanka.

Not that THAT process itself wasn’t a bit of a ball-buster. First, I had to spend about 4-5 hours on a train from Cochin to Thiruvananthapuram (affectionately called ‘Trivandrum’), seemingly stopping at every backwater hole-in-the-wall en route. I tried to eat and drink as little as possible during that time, which made me kinda weak, too. That may seem a bit much, but my stomach was still ‘bothering me’ [ahem], and if you see the hole in the bottom of the train they euphemistically call a ‘toilet’, you’ll understand my aversion.

I couldn’t sleep in a hotel in town, because thanks to the local Kerala Communist leadership, the next day — the actual day of my flight — the locals were staging a ‘fuel strike’ protesting the fuel cost hike, so no taxis, tuk-tuks, or anything motorized would be able to take me to the airport. When I asked someone about catching a random taxi working outside the strike, I was told I didn’t want to do that just in case it got stopped by an angry mob. Nice.

So instead, I went to the airport the early morning beforehand and I was able to get a nice 1-2 hour nap in the front lobby of the Trivandrum airport. Then, when it was finally time to check it, I had to wait another 8 hours in the airport while my flight was delayed. Shit, at that point, I honestly felt like the country was trying to keep me there – just to finish off the job.

The good news is that we eventually made it onto the 45 minute flight to Colombo, Sri Lanka. The bad news is that we arrived at 1:30 a.m. I somehow finagled my way into getting a free ride from the airport to Colombo (about 1 hour away), at which time I slept on the front steps of the Colombo train station for another couple hours until the station opened at 5:30 a.m.

Yes, I know this is the same train station that was bombed by Tamil Tiger separatists — killing dozens — just weeks ago. Yes, I know it probably wasn’t the smartest of ideas sleeping on the front steps of a public train station in downtown Colombo. But fuck it, I made it out of India alive — at that point, I felt absolutely invincible. Exhausted, but invincible.

I caught the 6:30 a.m. train down to Mirissa, where I am again — at Dinu’s Resort. I’m still a bit too ‘blech’ to eat anything, but it’s nice to be back in a place where the only things actively trying to kill you are the terrorists.

I got a couple surfs in yesterday before crashing for about 13 hours. I hope to have at least one more before I have to begin the 5 hour trek back up to the Colombo/Negombo airport for my 5:00 a.m. flight to Bangkok tomorrow morning.

I’m already really happy to be back in Sri Lanka. But I REALLY can’t wait to get back to Thailand. Sawadee kap, bitches!

[Welcome to India, man! And yes, that IS "Freedom Rock"!]

I promise this will be (among) the last of the derogatory comments I have about my visit to India so far. That being said …

I understand I cannot justifiably classify an entire country after having visited only a tiny portion thereof — especially one swarming with foreign tourists. Agreed. I mean, to do so would be akin to someone criticizing the entire United States after having visited only Las Vegas.

Err … forget that analogy, but you get the point.

But to those people (many whose opinions I truly do respect) that say I need to visit the ‘real India’ in order to understand ‘the magic’ of the country, I say bullshit. I have ventured out into the boonies and cities, and I say ‘Bullshit.’

Yes, India IS a bit different from other countries. Yes, India DOES have a remarkable history. Yes, it DOES have some great food and an extremely diversified culture. But there are amazingly different things in just about EVERY country worldwide (for now that is, until Starbucks and McDonalds have completed their takeover of the Klingon Empire).

I don’t want to come off as hating India — because I don’t. Indeed, there are some very interesting aspects of Indian culture, and I don’t think it’s really ALL that bad here. However, this blog, by necessity, is a distillation of my recollections and experiences about my travels. I cannot write about everything I see. It’s just not a practicality. Instead, I must write about those things which affect me the most … in the moment.

I write about what I ‘get’ from India as I experience it — the hippies, the crowding, the poverty, the misogynistic culture, the frantic pace, the greed. And these things … they’re not for me. Indeed, I fled from many of these same things also existing back in the States. Only in the U.S., there was indoor plumbing and less air pollution (if you can believe that).

I will say this much, however: I HAVE learned some things about myself since my arrival here. Not from the country or its people, but in how other Westerners view them both. As one commentator here noted, there are a HUGE number of Westerners who have never visited India and have a romanticized idea of the country — believing the entire countryside is not strewn with garbage, and believing Indians are ALL spiritually enlightened.

Man, they’re just people trying to get by. Just because they’ve got different religions and philosophies does NOT mean they’re any closer to grasping the meaning of life (if any) than you are — especially the meaning of YOUR life, dipshit!

Yet many foreigners here seem to continually propagate that illusion — actively blinding themselves to the reality so they can justify their continued search for answers in a place they’ve seen romanticized in movies as the birthplace of ‘spiritual enlightenment’. You can see it in how seriously they take themselves and the whole concept of ‘India.’ They’ve all seemingly forgotten that the minute you start believing your own bullshit is the minute you lose touch with the questions you initially sought to explain.

Ironically, I got a shot of this reality this morning seeing a funny quote on the side of one of the Starbucks cups used by a local coffee shop (not in violation of any copyright laws, I presume):

chances are you are scared of fictions.
chances are you are only fleetingly happy.
chances are you know much less than you think you do.
chances are you feel a little guilty
chances are you want people to lie to you.
perhaps the answer lies on the side of a coffee cup.
you are lost.”

-david cross
comedian, writer, actor

Indeed.