I saw this mother and baby in Baku National Park in Sarawak, Borneo on my early morning stroll

Having shown photos of my last trip to a few of my friends, it always seems to be the monkey shots that get the most ooooo’s and aaaaaa’s. And I have to admit, catching a mini monkey clinging to his mom is pretty adorable. But I certainly didn’t love these  these macaque monkeys everywhere I went. In fact, I ran away from them fearing an attack on more than one occasion.

But here are a few facts for you if you happen to be touring a part of Asia or Africa that has a few of these little rascals.

•  There are twenty-two macaque species currently recognised
• Although several species lack tails, and their common names therefore refer to them as apes, these are true monkeys
• In some species, skin folds join the second through fifth toes, almost reaching the first metatarsal joint
• Macaques have a very intricate social structure and hierarchy. If a macaque of a lower level in the social chain has eaten berries and none are left for a higher-level macaque, then the one higher in status can, within this social organization, remove the berries from the other monkey’s mouth
• Nearly all (73-100%) pet and captive macaques are carriers of the herpes B virus. This virus is harmless to macaques, but infections to humans
• Long-tailed macaques live in primary, secondary, coastal, mangrove, swamp and riverine forest level from sea level up to elevations of 2000 m

Postcards that I’ve received and look at daily as I walk to my front door:D

Do you  dread the mail as much as I do? Bills and junk and nothing too exciting? Is a picturesque postcard simply a blast from the past? From a time when facebook, twitter and gmail didn’t even exist? Well, it was a good time-as much as technology made communication for travellers easier, the good ‘ol postcard still has a place in my heart.

I can remember being on holiday as a child and going to the post office with my grandmother in England, to send a message back to my mom and dad. It was a routine that thrilled me as I felt like such a grown up choosing the right picture, getting the stamp and writing about what I had seen and done. I imagined my parents smiling at my experiences, and it made me even happier. On the other side of the postcard spectrum, I can recall first setting eyes on that rectangular picture card amongst the white envelopes and junkmail, and immediately studying the written words describing my penpals’ journey on the other side of the world. When I was at camp or with other family members, I cherished the notes my folks sent from parts of the globe that had monkeys or big city lights. Perhaps this is when my wanderlust began.

But with emailing and blogging and simply updating your status options, postcards are almost a forgotten form. There are faster ways of sharing your travelling joys with everybody in your life. Just one group message with a photo attachment and it’s easy to get back to experiencing the experience of being away. Buying a SIM card at the airport with a small data package and you’re completely covered with an unlocked phone. Or connecting to the growing wifi world with a laptop or a tablet-piece of cake. Within 5 seconds of taking a picture in Borneo recently, my parents looked at the same picture on their desk computers just moments later. With a one line commet, they were completely up to date.

Christmas messages duplicated in the stamp!

I’ve even learned about animals I’ve never heard of-from a stamp!

Though there can be a personal touch in this communication, it can never replace the postcard. This is why I still fill up my travelbag with cards whenever I see them, and a surplus of pens, and the postoffice circled on my map-wherever I go. I dedicate an evening or an afternoon with a coffee or a glass of wine, and I fill in the blanks. If I spill my drink I have more to write about. I change my handwriting to printing, printing to block letters, block letters back to handwriting. This is the art of the postcard.

The people I choose to write to has changed ever so slightly over the years. Always family members and close friends, and those that simply reciprocate the process when they are traversing around the globe. If you’ve sent me a Christmas card, chances are, you’ve received a postcard or two. With just three or four lines, I can update those that make the list, with events and doings in my life-in addition to the travelling adventures. There are some people on my list that I haven’t seen in years, but we keep tabs on each other with our postcards. I value that they took the time to put pen to paper. As soon as their card makes it to my letterbox, it’s tacked up on my wall as a memento of travels by all. Some cards are modern with a classy frame, others are cheesy and faded-all are appreciated.

It took me a loooooooooong time to line up and get these stamps at the post office in Tanzania!

I know I’m clinging on to some old-school ways, but it’s part of who I am as a not so technical blogger. Some might see it as a generational thing as I’d much prefer to write something by hand than play a game of ‘Angry Birds’ (or whatever the latest game craze is). When I completed the solo year around the world there were regions I crossed that were not connected-postcards became a diary of sorts. I sent a card to my 90 year old great uncle Frank from every country, state and province I toured. As he never owned a computer, wrote emails or blogs-it was the best way for me to reach him with a flavour of my travels. I know he cherished the connection. He had a fall when I was away, and needed to stay in the hospital for a few weeks. I managed to call the nurses station from Brazil, but was told he couldn’t take calls. When I pleaded and said I was calling from South America, the nurse choked on her words.

So many stories to tell…

Picture perfect cards-my favourites are usually printed back in the 80′s!

“Oh you must be Fiona?! Give me a second dear, I’ll get the phone over to his bedside. And I loved your card from Chile-Frank has brought them with him.”

I couldn’t stop the tears.

Love.

From a postcard.

When I returned from the trip, I put all of the cards into one book for him. We would stay up late talking and recollecting shared memories, which included the postcards that he received. Frank passed away and the book was recently returned to me. I now cherish it as my own diary of the 24 countries I travelled through, and a smile on the face of my favourite uncle.

So I do embrace the world with my keyboard, but I will never stop sending postcards. The stamps tell a story. The state of the card tells a story. I often get back home and the postcards I sent weeks earlier, arrive after me. But their worn corners and folds tell another story. That card passed through many hands before arriving at your front door- those hands are a part of the story.

I’ve started sending cards to some of the subscribers from my blog. I’ve never met them in person, but they responded in comments when I asked on an earlier blog who likes cards. I don’t consider it a burden to take a few extra moments to give them a personal touch of my travels. And I sure appreciate the cards I get back.

A postcard thanks from a favourite reader

This Cambodian card arrived a little worn & torn!

Spyhopping orcas in English Bay!

Though I didn’t see them myself, just knowing that they were frolicking in the waters at the end of the road that I live on, makes me smile. I swim off of the same beach that they swim in. Though I’m not likely to nudge one as I complete the breast stroke, I have completed a few lengths with a seal popping his head up and looking back at me. Perhaps he was the seal that became lunch. Sorry sea friend, this is the way the world works.

The 15 year old male in the pod (known from his full dorsal fin) was the instigator of the seal chase. He began thrashing around in the water in front of Jericho Beach. This is when it was obvious to nearby boaters that they had caught their catch. The whales then “did a little celebration” with some spyhops, when they lift their heads out of the water, then slip back down.

Orcas cruising in front of the Jericho Sailing CLub

A bit distant from the camera, but the orcas were pretty close to a local sailboat! AND, you can kind of see my house-ha!

 

The full grown male with one of the juveniles caught on their journey on the edge of Stanley Park, English Bay

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Once the excitement of the orcas coming so close to town died off, I wished they had never come. Although these are still their waters, I felt concern that they might get caught up in some disastrous man made mess. Just three weeks ago, a baby humpback whale died just off the Lower Mainland waters. He was first spotted in the early morning hours, beached on White Rock Beach. Locals were quick to race down to the water with buckets to help him stay alive until high tide, but he passed soon after. He had become entangled in a fishing net, and was severely malnourished from his injuries. It’s heart breaking to witness. It’s heart breaking to know we caused his death. So please please please, keep our waters clean.

 

As my recent trip to the Philippines was a surprise even to me, I didn’t have any of those facts or figures to direct me. Now having experienced, and continuing to write about my explorations there, I have found the research that I have done to support my writing, has inspired me to put the country on the top of my ‘to return to soon‘ list. It has reminded me that knowing just a few quick facts about a place can inspire a curious mind to travel – maybe a glance over my top 20 facts will inspire you too.

Fiona’s Top 20 Reasons to Travel to the Philippines:

1. The Philippines is an archipelago of more than 7,107 islands covering a land area the same size as Italy. This also means they have 36,289 kilometers of coastline to discover (the USA has just 19,924 kilometers!) Most famous beach hotspots are Boracay and Palawan =BEACH LOVERS HAVEN
2. The Chocolate Hills on the island of Bohol are often green and forever rolling.There are over 1200 of these little ‘kisses’. I was a little disappointed to not actually taste any of the sweet stuff from the coco gods, so why not recreate a minitature model with real chocolate? =SWEET TOOTH DARE
3. There are more than 200 volcanoes, though only a few are active. Mayon Volcano is the top destination. =CLIMBERS & PHOTOGRAPHIC DREAM
4. Exploring the Tabon Cave Complex where fossil evidence of mankind was discovered. According to the studies, the area was inhabited around 50,000 years ago. =ARCHAEOLOGY INTEREST
5. The people of the Philippines are from many different ethnic origins such as Malay, Chinese, Spanish, American, etc. =PEOPLE WATCHING EXTRAVAGANZA
6. The Philippines were a Spanish colony from 1521 to 1898. Getting a first hand look at the Colonial architecture is an historic education. All of Cebu City is a hotspot. =HISTORIC BUILDING LOVERS INSIGHT
7. Swimming with whale sharks (butanding) southeast Luzon = WATER & ANIMAL LOVERS MOST AMAZING EXPERIENCE EVER!
8. It was the first Southeast Asian country to gain independence in 1946, following World War II =I JUST THINK THIS IS AN INTERESTING FACT!
9. A visit to the Aliwan Festival, known as the mother of all Philippine festivals, is sure to get your cultural adrenalin going. With colourful parades and streetdancing in the heart of Manila, those present will be smiling from ear to ear. =24 HOUR PARTIERS
10. Reading a book or journal writing at the University of San Carlos-founded in 1595 by the Spaniards, the Cebu City campus is older than Harvard and is the oldest university in Asia. Just imagine the stories told on site! =HISTORIC DREAMERS
11. Meeting a local and drilling them with life questions. My time with Val Sandiego, owner of the the Yap Sandiego house/museum was soooo inspiring. The museum was a treat to discover. =PERSONAL TOUCH
12. With gravity for natural water irrigation, the Ifugaos used the mountain contours to cultivate rice paddies. Breathing in the fresh air at the Banaue Rice Terraces. =APPRECIATING A NATURAL ENVIRONMENT (with man’s help!)
13. Though I’ve not yet tried this, it’s on my list-kite boarding in Boracay is said to be one of the hottest spots in the world for some true air time! =ADRENALIN JUNKEES
14. If you are not a vegetarian, the best dish to experience has to be ‘lechon’, even Anthony Bourdain would agree. The roasted pig is soft and crispy and and and-YUM! =FOODIES SPECIALTY
15. Okay, here’s another one added just because it sounds ultra cool. Imagine bumping into an ex-boyfriend and struggling through the conversation, until he asks, ‘What have you been up to lately?’ With a very casual shrug (and inner gloating) you respond with, “Oh you know, I went spelunking in the caves of Samar.” I’ll let you guys research more of that one yourselves! =GLOATING WITH UNIQUE EXPERIENCES
16. Go shopping! Three of the top 10 largest shopping malls in the world are located just outside of Manilla. =MATERIAL PLEASURES
17. Have you given up on public transit in your hometown? Jumping on a bus or train that the locals use will help you see life not as a tourist. Boarding a Jeepney is an experience only to be had in the Philippines. Known as the Kings of the road, these converted military jeeps are more colourful than your grandmother’s floral moomoo. =CULTURAL GIGGLES
18. Staring into the big eyes of the world’s smallest primate; the tarsier. Found on the island of Bohol, these tree climbing animals have also inspired Star Wars creators (think Yoda) =ANIMAL LOVERS
19. The Philippines is regarded the “text capital of the world”. About 350 to 400 million SMS (Short Message Service) or text messages are sent daily by 35 million cell phone subscribers in the country, which is more than the total daily text messages sent in the U.S. and Europe, together. =MODERN CULTURAL INSIGHT
20. For those regular readers you might recall that I underwent a rather unusual procedure in Cebu. So here’s a reminder that travelling is all about experiencing new things. It was cleansing…if not a bit unusual-the vaginal steam can’t exactly be offered to half of you, but surely there’s a mans’ equivelant! =ON A CULTURAL DARE

So there you have it-my first Top 20 List! Are you inspired to go to the Philippines yet? Or did you at least learn something new? Spread the word and inspire others to experience the Philippines!

HAPPY TRAVELS

Fiona Scott – Babe With A Backpack

Val Sandiego and I enjoying a garden chat

As I walked through the streets of Pari-an in Cebu City, I was destination bound to a few of the attractions circled on my map. The Yap SanDiego Museum was not one of those destinations, but the unique beauty of the house did stop me in my tracks. The aged wooden exterior walls were a stark contrast to the decrepit art deco building next door and other grungy building fronts nearby. I popped my head into the open window and was overwhelmed with vases and figurines tucked into every available space of the low ceilinged room. The collections had a bit of a spookiness to them, accentuated by low lighting. A staffer appeared and mentioned the 70 peso entry cost. I scanned the building for a few seconds and walked away. Mistake numero uno.

I turned away because I thought I had seen everything the Museum had to offer. I turned away because I was still so unfamiliar with the currency that I thought 70 pesos was too much (=$1.64 canadian). I turned away because I was too focussed on getting to another site and wasn’t in a ‘go with the flow’ kind of mood. After I walked through the other site, the Casa Gorordo, I turned back and launched into a speed-walk. The Yap Sandiego House was definitely worth a visit.

The Yap Sandiego Ancestral House

Signage for all to know more of the Parian history

View from the downstairs doorway

I paid my entry fee and laughed with the staffer upon my re-entry. He directed me upstairs and pointed out a few features, but asked me to tour at my own leisure. “And you’re welcome to take photos and touch things here-unlike the other local sites,” he added. I told him of being reprimanded in the Gorordo House and he laughed.

As on the ground floor, every inch of space had been filled with an item of interest. Victorian dolls sat up in wooden cribs, wine glasses circled the coffee table in behind. All of the windows were open to the street with no glass holding in any more of the humidity, their wooden shutters folded up along the edges. I could hear kids shouting from the basketball court across the road, a reminder that this really was a house, in an actual residential neighborhood and not just a museum. With the natural light highlighting everything in sight, the spookiness that I had felt on the ground floor, had vanished. There was more character on this level. I recognized repeat faces in the photos that hung on the walls and in golden stand up frames on top of dressers. The pictures were modern, though made to look old by wearing stage clothes and using a sepia tone. The mother, father, daughters and son stayed in character with straight faces, but I sensed the eldest was biting her tongue to stop the giggles .

Upstairs Yap Sandiego House =family photos & glass & & &

Painting of how the Mabini Street once looked circa 1750

The original roof tiles!

The largest frame hanging on the side wall was not an aged photo, but a thick oil painting on canvas of an empty street scene. Red roofed buildings lined the cobble stoned road.There were no people. The windows were all open.

“If you look up at the roof from the inside, you’ll notice the terra-cotta tiles are the same as the one’s in the painting, and they’re all original. We are the only building int the neighborhood with the original roof. The floors are original floorboards as well.” The staffer had crept back up the wide wooden staircase to drop off a few more facts for me.

So how old is this house then?

1605.

1805?

No-1605.

But how can that be? There’s so much wood around-doesn’t it ware down or rot?

The owner did some restoration work a few years back, but all the floorboards were numbered as they were pulled up and treated. They are right back where they started, only they’ll last a little longer. And you know, the original glue for the tisa roof tiles was a combination of lyme and egg whites.

One of the downstairs dinner tables – and another family photo!

The original form of plumbing-a big spouted pot of water

View from the upstairs bedroom

I looked back at the painting and realized the building I stood in had been one of many red roofed houses in the area. I shook my head with disbelief at the house being over 400 years old. Stone castles surviving in Europe I can comprehend, but wooden houses in Asia? Through the rains and the humidity? I vowed to do some google researching to authenticate the staffers’ facts.

I walked over to the other half of the upstairs level and immediately felt I had stepped into an out of bounds area. The clothes poorly hidden in the corner of the bedroom and the toiletry kit sitting beside the sink were a bit of a give away. I learned that the owner still stays at the house on occasion.

The place was so busy with stock, I had a hard time focussing on any one area. I started to see the items more for what they were; a family’s collection of mementos rather than stock. Yes, this was a museum, but the personal touch became more and more evident. I could imagine a mother decorating the box of keepsakes by gluing on shells collected from the beach. I could imagine the girls in the family sitting around the table and crocheting all the placemats and window decorations. This was a home that had been opened up to educate guests of trends past.

Garden Statue

Garden greenery along the side of the Yap Sandiego House

The photo album story of restoring the house

I returned downstairs to have a look outside in the pebbled garden area. I noticed a solitary man darting around a corner with a watering can. The potted shrubs were thriving, obviously appreciating his attention. I photographed an aged statue and made my way to the corner of the triangular corner property to capture the biggest possible image of the building. The staffer followed me, pointing out the well.

That’s original too you know.

You seem to have a lot of pride for this house, I commented.

Well this house and the owner, who’s just over there, has done a lot for me and the community.

I perked up a little more upon hearing of the owner being present. Within moments I had an introduction to Val Sandiego and an opportunity to sit down and hear details firsthand. Val brought out a photo album showing the stages of updating the house. It had been a difficult journey overcoming the financial and bureaucratic obstacles in transforming his family’s heritage into a museum, but the end result is evident. The community is standing behind him and recognition for the local history is finally being seen.

I expressed my thanks for the additional insights and vowed to share my experience as best I could. Val then added the icing on the cake to my day, by inviting me to dinner the following night.

It’s a full moon at the Yap Sandiego House!

Perhaps one of the best atmospheres created for an authentic meal!

Dinner is served

With a black sky and a full moon backdrop, the atmosphere in and around the house took on a different life. There were still some local kids playing basketball across the street, and I passed many smells of dinner being prepared in nearby kitchens, but the Yap Sandiego Ancestral House stood out. The same open windows and doors allowed passers to peek in, but there was also an overall feeling of homeliness. And accent lighting. There were no more tourists in the area, yet people posed in front of the house. They greeted Val and the conversation flowed into introductions. Apparently, visiting family members need to see the house that embodies the history of the entire community. Val was gleaming with pride.

Our dinner of noodles and wontons, barbecued fish and chicken skewers was laid out on the table in the back garden. We were joined by a local historian and guide, Ka Bino Guerrero. I told him of my complete unawareness of Filipino history, which in turn, made stumbling upon so many unique buildings such a treat to discover.

I can’t actually recall covering any Filipino history in my Canadian education-I’m sure it just got lumped into the general Asia category, of which I soon forgot. I suppose if I had studied history further, I would have had more of an understanding of what this part of the world endured. But now in hindsight, this is why I travel. Learning just a few facts about the region certainly help in defining the current culture. For example;

Looking over the garden or a game of ‘sungka’

Victorian doll….that kind of gave me the spooks!

The China cupboard

• In 1521, Portuguese explorer Ferdinand Magellan arrived in the Philippines and claimed the islands for Spain
• From 1565-1898, The Philippine islands were part of the Spanish East Indies, hence many Spanish names and surnames
• Cebu was a very significant port for ships from Mexico, collecting along the Spice Route
• There is an historic mark left by many cultures across the Philippines; Chinese pirates, Dutch, British and Japanese to name just a few
• Spain’s influence on its former colonies is significant to this day, the majority Philippinos belong to the Roman Catholic faith.
• Following the Spanish American War in 1898, most of the 7000 Philippino islands were occupied by Americans
• In 1946, the Philippines finally attained its independence
• The political situation has been calm for a while now. The 80′s and 90′s were filled with assinations and exiled leaders. Most notorious was Imelda Marcos leaving her 1,700 pairs of shoes when she joined her ex-president husband Ferdinand in Hawaii. Now she, and her son, dabble in the political scene and the occasional coruption trial.

Val Sandiego watching over the neighbourhood

Dedicated family & friends/historians & artists committed to maintaining the house.

Fiona and Val looking over the street from the upstairs window

Thanks again Val  And to all visitors to Cebu, enjoy your tour of the Yap Sandiego House-it’s definitely worth it!

Vases and Paintings

There are many examples of the Victorian art using shells

Light / statue / mirror

The Victorian lounge chair that made me felt too much like a trip to the doctor’s office!

The wide wooden central staircase

One of the (always open) street level windows

Outdoor night lights make the house a center point in town at all hours

This is the gift table after my Asia trip! (including some gifts for myself!)

My apartment is filled with mementos from all of my travels. My walls have masks and baskets from South America, my kitchen drawers have coconut shell spatulas and soup bowls from Asia while my closet houses a Moroccan carpet and Chinese slippers. Wherever I go, I am on a mission to experience the best of a location, in addition to finding the best way to experience it when I get home.

As a backpacker there are certainly restrictions; I don’t have space to carry too much, nor do I want the weight or the cost. Having said that, when I did the year around the world I sent 15 packages home-post offices are a wonderful resource! As I’m also not a size 2 nor a big name label whore, I usually choose items that will fill in the corners of my household or items that I can actually use on a regular basis. I have learned how to embrace the cheesyness of some mementos on offer around the world.

The African carving collection (Kenya, Namibia, Uganda, Tanzania, Zambia)

Cushion cover collection (Thailand, Jordan, Chile, Cambodia)

Basket/Bowl (South Africa)

When I was in Jordan, a shopkeeper threw in a fridge magnet of Petra after he bundled up the letter opener I had bought. I thought it was an extremely tacky item that might make somebody smile-so I gave it to my mom. As I traipsed through markets stalls a couple of weeks later in Egypt, I found myself comparing the quality of fridge magnets featuring the Great Pyramids or a googly eyed Sphinx. The routine of buying a trendy or a tacky fridge magnet began.

After a few years it was difficult to find the fridge handle at my mom’s place, and the collection was transferred over to my apartment. Now when I’m at home trying to create something edible in the kitchen, in one quick glance I am reminded of the capoeira dancers in Brazil, or the colourful dresses worn in Namibia. Being small, cheap and immediately associated with a travelling memory, fridge magnets are always on my ‘to buy’ list.

The first magnet - Jordan

The Fridge Magnet Collection...

The only man I got my hands on in New Zealand + Vegas + Yorkshire +Holland + Canadian reminder

Stamps are also on my list. In addition to being stuck onto postcards sent out, I look for the cheapest value with the most colourful pictures-hopefully of something I’ve seen or experienced in the country. Just to confuse the postal workers, I usually ask for four or five of each stamp. I collate the stamps and send them on to some very special kids I know. Their collection books have filled up over the years, and hopefully the images will educate and inspire them to explore the world in the future. I keep one set of stamps for myself, with intentions of adding them to a scrapbook. One day.

My adventures into the post offices have been quite comedic when english is not a common language. As I’m not looking to post a letter, I can’t hold up an envelope and point. So try explaining that you want many & cheap & colourful & animals & collection in a game of sherades. It adds an entertaining element to shopping for a non touristy item. Even finding the right desk at the post office can be a challenge. In the Philippines, I was escorted to an upstairs sorting room where I then had to yell through a closed window shutter with a cut out slot, “I’d like a pretty stamp please!”

Stamps to EVENTUALLY put into a scrapbook/frame

The next party I visit will be with Philippino coconut shots!

One of the Brazilian placemats

Tunisian plates and pot (broke the biggest one packing up for Canada

So what other small and lightweight items do I buy?

-cushion covers; with 1 colour theme I now have 9 countries thrown onto my couch!
-jewellery; I don’t need diamonds (yet!) so finding the most unique rings, earrings and necklaces is a good challenge
-boxes; wooden, carved or painted pictures have formed a box collection that I now have to further organize all of my little bits at home
-Christmas ornaments; my tree is greeted with a New Zealand santa sheep, a British house of Lords sock and an Alaskan reindeer. Who needs tinsle?
-small bottles of booze or sweet treats that are great to bring to a social night back home

I have also bought a few one-off items that I felt were unique enough to accommodate in my luggage. I cursed outloud many times as I dragged my bulky bag on and off buses, but now that they have a cozy spot in my apartment, I’m pretty darm proud that they survived the transport and that I persevered.

-entire plate set (Tunisia)
-table lamps (Thailand)
-2 foot long glass vase (Venice)
-leather pouff stool/cushion (Morocco)
-large woven placemats made from ‘sea-branches’ that couldn’t be bent! (Brazil)

The Moroccan pouff that was rolled up in my backpack

Box collection (Laos, Vancouver, Japan, China, Brunei, mom:D, Alaska, Dominican Repulblic, dad , UK,

Fraction of mask collection (Peru, New Zealand, Kemya, Japan...I think!)

Having described a few of my purchases over the years, you’d be correct in guessing that I don’t go for a minimalist look in my apartment. I do share the wealth of my goody buying with friends and family. I’m not sure if they’re really cringing when I annouce I have a treat for them-but as buying tokens and giving gifts is as heart warming as travelling, I won’t be stopping any time soon.

I guess this admission to my love of travel shopping and accessoring my apartment makes me a little more girly than I usually think of myself. I haven’t met too many solo guy travellers that walk around with carpet rolls poking out of their backpacks. But when I do, I will immediately check for a wedding ring and then block his path if he’s single!

So what do you buy when you’re travelling? What’s your favourite purchased item and from where?

Night Market Vientiane Laos

The variables in a shopping environment are key for both retailers and consumers. I like the relaxed feel, earthy colours if possible, and most importantly, personality in the surroundings. If the store is actually a tarp spread out on a dusty ground, even better-I hate the feeling of four walls and too much stuff to look at. A good deal, an initial need or desire for the product and anything that simply makes me feel ultra good, are all factors too.

Although many of the tourism pamphlets for Kuala Lumpur list multiple malls as the best places to buy gifts, I figured all the material items would be similar to stuff at home. Street markets were the definitely the way to go. Twenty bonus points for Fiona as right around the corner from my funky hostel (The Explorers Guesthouse) was ‘Petaling Street’-the zone in Chinatown stuffed with market stalls and people bargaining hard over every ringgit.

Petaling Street entrance Kuala Lumpur

The atmospheric frenzy of street markets!

Market Stall stock

Even if you’re not into shopping, the entertainment of people watching in areas like this, is fabulous. Shopkeepers stand over their tables of knock off perfumes and purses, re-arranging stock and hoping to catch the eye of a passing tourist. Of course, most sellers are not the shy type waiting for buyers to come to them. Imagine an overly energetic voice that stands out from the regular conversations and shouts within the market.

Have you seen the different sunglasses I have? You’re such a pretty girl that I’ll give you my lowest possible price, unlike the other stores…such poor quality stuff they have too. My gear is authentic, nothing fake here. Oh wow, if you had these glasses you would exactly like JLo! Or would you layer on the makeup and go for a Gaga look? I bet your mother would look like your sister wearing these ones. You are from Europe? Let me guess, UK?

All said without any interaction from me.

The steps involved in successful bargaining are pretty important. The look-walk-offer-walk-negotiate rule has always been a winner for me. For my first stroll through the area, I get an initial base offer for items I’m interested in, but nothing more. I then decide what my own set price is. My second tour which can either be 10 minutes later or the next day, will involve an offer that’s usually one quarter of the asking price. THIS is where the game playing really begins. I walk away expressing no interest, only to be turned around by the seller with a counter offer. The biggest rule of thumb is to not budge from your own set price. Be fair and think about the value of the product and the possible cut for the seller. A 25 cent equivalent is not worth haggling over.

Sharpen your bargaining skills at every opportunity!

Stanley Market Hong Kong

Kuching's Jln India 'high street'

On this shopping adventure I only walked away with a couple of items, (2 bottles of perfume and a leather bag!) but I did watch many other tourists stocking up on everything in sight. It was frustrating to hear some of them not even bother with any negotiating-it’s expected! I suppose if they didn’t do their research, they don’t need to concern themselves with paying 3 or 4 times more than anybody else.

Another prime shopping spot in Kuala Lumpur is called ‘Central Market’. With street musicians nestled in between rolling carts of sashes and handbags, the outdoor area is easy to get caught up in. And if it happens to be a rainy day, your shopping plans won’t be rained out. I have no idea what you call their uniquely pointed roof, but it certainly fits in with the artistic feel from the shops and people. If you are an art deco fan, then a visit to the main building (which is a heritage site) is a no brainer. Though the market originated in 1888 as a wet market, the current building was first constructed in 1937. The white geometric patterns surrounding the doorways and windows are emphasized with the baby blue walls; all a visual treat to take in. Once inside, the art and handicraft products are immediately beside and above you. Though I didn’t buy anything, I certainly felt as though I had more of an insight into the cultural differences of the various races in Malaysia-simply through browsing through the shops!

Kuala Lumpur

Central Market Kuala Lumpur

Central Market Kuala Lumpur

I have enjoyed market shopping in most places I have visited. In Vientiane-Laos, it was the night market that took the crown. Setup beside the Mekong River, every night, the locals and tourists share a space and create a buzz of energy that is replicated nowhere else. I tucked some jewelry and t-shirts into my pack after some very polite and respectable negotiating. Another ‘market’ in town is called the ‘Morning Market’ (I guess the ‘Afternoon Market’ is next on the development list!) Although filled with many many cheap treats to negotiate over, it is actually located in a dated mall. I did visit and I did buy, but I sure wish the variety of stock had been available in the night market.

Kota Kinabalu also had a great markets to roam through. The Filipino Market has rows upon rows of mini stores offering pearls (not sure how authentic they are…) seashell crafts and bamboo goods. With such narrow walkways I felt a great need to cling tightly to my bag, as within most markets. Squeezing past other shoppers and retailers while looking about at the overloaded amount of goods is a prime pickpocketing space. I luckily left with everything I had arrived with, plus a few tacky magnets and pens for friends. The Filipino Market is sandwiched between the night market (best fresh food and drink in town!) and the Central Market (aimed more at locals as the stalls are filled with grocery items….and some amazing fresh fruit. So yeah, Kota Kinabalu is definitely a market town!

Filipino Market Kota Kinabalu

Central Market Kota Kinabalu

Central/Night Market Kota Kinabalu

Part of my love for market shopping originates from my years living in England. High streets and weekend markets fight against the suburban shopping malls, but the outdoor stretches of pedestrianized areas along the high street add so much character. I guess I feel like less of a shopping drone if I can see a real life tree or a quick walking route home.

As this entry has turned into a summary of what I do love about shopping, I can’t forget to mention the markets of Hong Kong. Stanley had a great walking section of storefronts, as did many of the streets in Kowloon. Shopping never dominates my travels, but it certainly is a highlight. It’s an opportunity to understand more of the culture I am visiting through product and people watching. I can see what the locals are after, I can see how the artisans present their wares, and I can be creative with gift giving and filling my apartment with more stuff. The next plan is to either upgrade to a bigger place or cut down my travelling (yeah right!)….but I’m certainly not going to cut down my shopping excursions-it’s part of the joy of travel!

I don’t like lining up to pay, I don’t like paying too much, I don’t like the effect of big brands or corporations, I don’t like consumer crowds, I don’t like malls, I don’t like trying on lots of clothes, I don’t I don’t I don’t…

Once I finished my rant, the barbie doll holding the clipboard made a big X under ‘no’ and approached another passer-by. That encounter stuck with me and I’ve always thought of myself as a ‘shop when I have to’ kind of gal.

Just looking at this makes me tense up - too much shoppiing!

But sometimes, entering a mall is simply a requirement. Recently when I was in Kota Kinabalu, I needed a pen. Not exactly a big purchase but I couldn’t find one in the 7-11′s or any of the high street stores, so I was forced to enter one of their many malls hidden within the town center. It was a dated mall with black and gold stenciled mirrors and chrome rails lining the stairwell. Escalators doubled back on one another, all the way up to the 5th floor. As soon as I saw the crowds cruising along the pastel coloured walkways, I knew I had to get directions for a my purchase and an immediate exit. Finding the fastest way in and the fastest way out is crucial for me. Several years ago in Singapore I had my first panic attack in a shopping mall, and I never wish to repeat those sweats. And why panic? Perhaps it’s the crowds, perhaps in the inevability that I will be handing over my hard earned money. Deep down I think it’s the fear of conforming with all drone like shoppers, giving in to media pressures for unnecessary material items.

I got directions to a pen selling store from a girl leaning against a wall and consolidating her purchases into one large bag. 2 minutes later, I was lost. I asked a security guard where the pen selling store was and he pointed to the escalator-apparently I had forgotten the last level. I joined the funnel of people climbing up to the top floor of never ending stores, grinding my teeth and clenching my fists along the way. The store was a department store with sections of underwear and cutlery sets on display. The rows in behind had a full spectrum of folded towels and bathroom accessories. I turned and saw tupperware. I turned again and saw baskets. I turned again and saw no pens-my shopping nightmare was becoming a reality. I looked over at the cashiers desk to see if she had left any writing utensils unattended-it might be easier to ‘borrow’ one and forget to return it. I saw nothing. “All I need is a fucking pen!” I mumbled out loud. I looked around a few more aisles and latched onto the book section, hoping it might lead to the pens. In addition to feeling lost and frustrated, I felt sweat rolling down the back of my neck. The shopping mall air con was no longer having an effect. I stopped in my tracks, took a deep breath and closed my eyes. Thankfully, it was that moment that a sales attendant spotted me. A few minutes later I found my way onto the street, with a bag of pens in hand.

Kota Kinabalu, Sabah Malaysia

Manilla, Philippines

Cebu City, Phillipines

These shopping mall fears don’t always take over. If I’m in the right mood, I can put up with a quick tour. On another day in Kota Kinabalu, I was looking for a pair of gloves and a warm hat for the mountain climb. The mall I entered was spacious and the crowds were sparse; I was calm. I surveyed every store looking for my specific items. What immediately struck me were the store names; some were direct and to the point while others used imagery and association I found entertaining. I wonder if the white haired Kenny Rogers knows about the chain of chicken eateries in his name? And is NYC really known as the coffee center?

Malls are such a part of life in Asia. Families come for a full day just as the designers hoped. Stepping out of the humidity and smog and people crowding the streets to be greeted by air conditioning, clean walkways and a full assortment of food and shops-is appealling. But it doesn’t stop there. Malls in the bigger cities have cinemas, theme parks and their own internal transport system. They are not just destinations to buy buy buy, well actually they are, but you’re encouraged to buy and do and see at the same time.

As a backpacker I have always thought of malls as the last place on earth I would go and see. I don’t travel to the other side of the world to buy everything l could also buy at home. I don’t want to carry extra stuff, I don’t have an unlimited money source and I don’t want to give up my money spending on experiences for material treats. There’s that non shopper attitude again eh? But having stepped into more malls in a few weeks than I have in the last few years, perhaps it’s time for me to adapt my ways. I’ll admit, there is a lot to be learned from the shopping mall culture.

But do I really want to be a part of the shopping mall culture? The entrances at the SM MegaMall in Cebu City Philippines were a slight turn off. With male and female doorways guarded by security officers enforcing a bag check, all I could think of was how they would react to a toy gun in my bag. Or if I were a closet alcoholic with mini bottles beside my change purse would they stop me at the door? Nobody seemed too bothered, they just followed the flow. Forward bound in a zombie like shuffle as they thought about the stores ahead. Must buy must spend must walk must buy must spend must walk. I spent at least an hour in the maze of stores. I tried on some shoes, spritzed myself with perfume and only dug out my wallet once. Ironically, it was in a Filipino tourist store called ‘Kultura’. I bought a bottle of coconut booze.

There was one mall that I didn’t get a chance to check out, and get this- I wish I had. The Ayala Center in Cebu City Philippines is known for green terraces and trees within the center. It’s this feature that draws me to the mall, not the big brands. I guess I’m more of a Canadian tree hugger than I thought! But it is still a mall, and on an average day more than 85,000 people visit Ayala Center , with the figure increasing to 135,000 on weekends. The Philippines might just be the center of the SouthEast Asian shopping mall syndrome. I glaned over the list of the world’s largest shopping malls and discovered that four of the top eleven are from the Philippines. I’ll have to brace myself a little more for those visits.

MegaMall Cebu City

Mega ads for upcoming mal, Manilla Philippines

Ayala Center Cebu City Philippines

It's a lego display of the Philippines; MegaMall Cebu City

My experiences with malls are still stuck in the love hate limbo. I appreciate their air conditioning, their toilets and the food court on occasion. I recognize that different parts of the world have features that appeal to the general public. I’ve been spoiled with some beautiful ocean and trees in Vancouver, and that’s an environment I’d prefer to hang out in. Perhaps if I had more money to spend I wouldn’t cringe so much. Perhaps if I were a size 2 figure, I’d be more keen….until that happens, I’ll winge whenever I can. Malls are not for me.

Unlike my previous layover, this leg of my journey from Borneo back to Vancouver was 9 hours-still not enough time to stay over night but certainly enough time to see a new angle of the city. I tried my hardest to convince two English girls I met in the airport that a bit of fresh air would do them the world of good, but they still chose to hang out in the sterile environment to wait for their next flight. From 3pm to midnight they would complete the shopping circuit, the food circuit, snoozing on a bench and the endless boredom. Girls, if you’re reading this now I hope you learned the lesson of possibilities!

The train into town was quick and the walking route to the bus was direct thanks to a hand drawn map from airport staff. It was so easy I opted to enjoy a coffee before the 45 minute ride to Stanley. Chatting with the barista I confirmed that my day-trip was the best choice I could have made. With an overly energetic smile, she gave me a tip very dear to my heart.

They have the best coffee I’ve ever had, at the last stall along the waterfront walkway.

I scored the front seat on the upper deck of the bus. Locals may have snickered at me snapping tourist shots through the window, but capturing the passing scenes was all I needed for my fourth visit to the city. I still like marveling at the passenger walkways, the skyscrapers reaching unimaginable heights and the instant green of Happy Valley racecourse in the middle of it all. As the bus cruised through tunnels and began climbing the zigzagging route across the island, more mountain and waterfront views became visible. Solo speedster cars challenged all driving rules by disregarding lanes and limits. The road reminded me of similar journeys in Capetown (Chapman’s Peak) and of course, Vancouver (Marine Drive W.Van & Sea to Sky Hwy). Apartment blocks began to sprawl up the mountainside, yet beaches and banyan trees brought me back to a natural environment.

Straight off the bus I spotted the touristy destination of the market. Curious as to what kind of final deal I might find, I slowly walked passed the storefronts filled with bright dresses, gemstones and chopsticks. As it was also nearing the end of a day of trading, I knew the shopkeepers might be more willing to part with stock for some final cash in their pocket. This being the end of my travels in Asia, I felt like a pro in the negotiating game. I played along with looks of astonishment at high prices, a walkaway move showing I don’t really care, followed by playful banter as the price jumps up and down to the final meeting point. SOLD! It was a good thing I only had a little bit of room in my carry on bag and just a few Hong Kong dollars left in my pocket as it would have been an easy location to go overboard. Only one necklace.

On the other side of the market, the waterfront was buzzing with couples taking in the sunset. Wedding photographers framed their shots on the rocks as families strolled towards the restaurants. I found a spot to relax and simply enjoy the environment. I dipped my feet into the South China Sea. I watched the newlyweds gazing at each other. I opened my notebook and added a few final observations. Flipping through the pages I saw 5 weeks of my scribble. Wow-what a trip this has been! 5 countries, every possible environment and such a re-connection with how personally fulfilling travel is. I glanced at my watch and realized I still had six hours of exploration time. Go go go!

The curved seawall had several information boards detailing the history of Stanley. I learned that the town was originally called ChekChue. It was given an English name after Lord Stanley, the 19th-century British Secretary of State for War and the Colonies-but a different Stanley to the name origin for my local Stanley (Park) in Vancouver.

The walkway led me directly to the impressive Murray House, one of the oldest building in Hong Kong. It may be one of the oldest, but it isn’t standing in it’s original location (the Central District). The historical landmark was dismantled and over 3,000 building blocks were labelled and catalogued for future restoration, along the Stanley waterfront. Originally officers’ quarters, it now invites tourists in as the Hong Kong Maritime Museum.

More information boards told me of other building relocations when I got to the Blake Pier. A stunning structure with a cast iron roof, this picturesque point did make me wonder ‘Why does HK go for all the relocations?’ I suppose the needs of HK central district as a modern metropolis and the ability to transport historic frameworks, has changed many regions. Stanley has its own documented history dating back to the Ming Dynasty (1573-1620), the British rule (1841-1997) and the Japanese invasion in 1941. Even though I was just getting a quick glimpse of the area on the islands’ southeastern shores, it’s clear that Stanley would be a great base to learn more from on my next visit.

I found another path that led me into Ma Hang Park. Full of chattering birds and luscious greenery, it was yet another sensory overload. I started speed-walking along the boardwalk in hopes of seeing everything the area has to offer. Pak Tai Temple was perched on the lower cliff with tree roots growing through the walls. Noted as a ‘protector of fishermen’, the small white building was clearly still being used as wafts of incense floated out of the window. Built in 1805 when Stanley was a major fishing village, it was nice to see a building that hadn’t been relocated.

I finally hit a point in the evening where food was all I could think about. I returned to the waterfront and searched for a traditional eatery…and settled on pizza. It wasn’t exactly what I envisioned my final holiday meal to be, but it sure was good-’gotta love the English Pizza Express! I never found that fabulous coffee joint, but as I was preparing for a 13 hour flight back to Vancouver, caffeine in my system wasn’t a good idea.

Stanley was well and truly, the perfect spot for me to end my vacation. As a dose of the outside world in between flights, I felt inspired and refreshed. I would like to return here for a slower paced tour one day, but as I’ve already started planning the next trip-who knows when I’ll be back!

If I had arrived at the Batu Caves a couple of months earlier, I would have competed with 1.5 million people celebrating at the Thaipusam festival. I may have got my picture on the cover of National Geographic magazine as the only white girl in the vicinity. Watching devotees being pierced across their back and allowing their bodies to hang from a chariot, while others willed no blood to drop from the multiple hooks put through their cheeks, might have spooked me a little, but travel is about education right? Right. And National Geographic does a fine job of covering it. I only competed for personal space with fifty other tourists and some annoying monkeys that kept blocking my path. I was there to see the caves, the Lord Murugan Statue and gawk at photos of the festival held earlier in the year.

As I sat on the local bus from the center of Kuala Lumpur, I was a little concerned I might not register where to get off. I tried to calculate how long 13 kilometers through loopy one way roads might take, but I lost track when we passed the same mosque three times. Or was that 3 mosques just once? Luckily, the driver knew that the only blond on board was obviously there to be a tourist at the Batu Caves, and gave me a nod and a wink when my time had come. As the bus drove off with me standing on the dirt sidewalk, I had no doubts which direction to go. The top half of the golden Murugan statue towered above all of the other buildings.

I began climbing the 272 steps at a slow steady pace, smiling at the groups of people catching their breath against the railings. Looking only at my sides to note the brightly painted Hindu statues, I nearly fell backwards when a monkey took a giant leap over my shoulder. He was running away from another monkey that held prized food scraps, and continued baring his teeth to show who was boss. My heart was racing as I thought of bites and rabies and breaking a leg falling down the never ending stairwell. I let the cheeky little macaques have their moment and continued walking up the steps, looking forward every step of the way.

Past the gift shops with aromatic pots of chai tea enticing visitors, the shape of the deep cavern became clear. I stopped to take in the sheer height of the 100 meter space in the ‘Cathedral’. The limestone walls were said to have formed up to 400 million years ago. 400 hundred MILLIONyears ago. Did you get that? I don’t think anybody can really get that.

Drips of moisture fell on my head as I walked across the cave to study the ornate shrines. A large opening in the smaller cave opposite acted as a natural skylight casting a luminescence to the ferns that grew out of the walls. For some reason a lone rooster walked the grounds and crowed in protest of me getting closer. I tried to imagine being within the masses of people carrying offerings for Lord Maruga. Some devotees choose to carry clay pots of milk on their shoulders, while others opt for the self mutilation. While I tried to comprehend the dedication and history of the caves by sitting on the sidelines and writing notes in my diary, the humidity eventually got the better of me and I was gasping for fresh air.

Standing at the top of the 272 stairs and looking down, I got a better grasp of the size of the statue (his head was nearly level with mine). At 43 metres, he is the tallest statue in Malaysia and the second tallest statue of a Hindu deity-in the world. One of the shopkeepers (also my savior as he handed me a cold bottle of water!) told me that Lord Maruga was considered to be the God of good fortune. Though I haven’t found a lot of support for that story, I’ll stick with it as I felt pretty fortunate to have experienced the visit.

I thought my explorations were over and I was bracing myself to pass the monkeys on the stairs again, when I saw another cave entrance. ‘The Dark Cave’ was a paid attraction that had no Hindu temples or enormous statues. A sign invited me to see the rarest spider-in the world, and walk through the most researched tropical cave-in the world.Perhaps like every other tourist, the worldly claims sold me and I handed over my cash.

There were several caverns located within this section of the Batu Caves. Unfortunately, one was off limits due to humidity levels being too high and another was blocked off as an exclusive science research area. I quickly figured the tour would be exactly like the religious side, but with no light.

“So will we see anything here?” asked the lone German tourist. The guide laughed and handed us each a flashlight.

“You’ll see absolutely nothing without this, and I assure you, you’ll see a lot!” Within 5 minutes of the guided walk across slippery stone, I think every one of us that secretly mocked the tour, took it all back. The sounds were incredible as 250 000 fruit bats clung to the ceiling. I tried walking with my hands covering my head (fear of dropping bat guano had me a little grossed out!) but found it difficult to keep my flashlight focussed on the ground in front of me. Every time our guide stopped and explained more features within the walls and at our feet, I gasped at the new information. We stood on a platform and shone our lights over the edge.

It was wriggling. The entire floor was moving in small waves of worms and maggots as they fed on a swimming pool size pit of bat guano. Cockroaches scuttled around the edges and yes, they were the biggest cockroaches I have ever seen. All of a sudden I really regretted my choice of open footwear. My toes curled in and I stamped my feet as an automatic reaction to ward off any critters from climbing on board my flip-flops. OMG, yes, it was gross. It was so gross that I was grinning and squealing in the dark.

We walked along the path in a tightly formed huddle, following the lead beam of light that our guide bounced around. He pointed out webs and tiny holes in the dry ground.

That’s where the trap-door spider lives. You see? He builds a trap door in the dirt. Want to see if anyone’s home?

He must have given so many tours that he knew exactly when we would all protest, and still really want him to open the door. Luckily, it was a small door and a small spider. That wasn’t home.

The pathway had hills and corners through the stalactites and stalagmites that grew out of the floor and ceiling. Still pools of water with limestone cave pearls looked like the ocean had swept by and the tide remained out. The wall up to the ceiling looked like cans of cream coloured paint had been thrown from a distance. Thick droplets rolled down with blended streams of blues and greens and collected at the base like lava at the bottom of a volcano. I saw no other creatures that made me squirm, until our guide stopped me in my tracks.

The centipede didn’t seem to mind being in the spotlight. I suppose he knew he was cornered by the big 2 legged people, though he could have run away at any point. As I had thought the cockroaches were the largest critter at ground level, I was soon corrected. The length and width of the arthropods body was similar to a marker pen, and with the extension of his 30 odd legs, he seemed more like a prehistoric beast. By following along his intricate yellow body, I was able to make out the fangs that he used to plunge into his dinner. Just after I took a photo of him, the spineless creature shot up the wall. Part of me was glad to see him go, but I remained on high alert to make sure none of his cousins ran over my toes.

We continued the walking tour up to the ‘Great Chamber’ where beams of light shot through a large crack in the distance. I imagined a tap-dancing dinosaur standing in the spotlight. Ok, so maybe my imagination got the better of me, but having spent some time in the darkness my thoughts kept circling cave women making fire or the first explorers that stepped foot inside.

Considering the temple side and the natural side, the caves cover a 2km. distance. There are wind tunnels, ancient formations, unfamiliar animals and and and-what an experience! My plan for the next visit will definitely include some of the rock climbing routes, the festival and most importanly-no flip flops.