Cambodia. If you asked me a year ago, I never would have thought I would make it there. But, life changes and as an expat in Thailand, I get to do a lot of things (like heading to Bali), which I originally never thought possible.
In October, I headed to Cambodia for work (Save Elephant Foundation opened a new sanctuary outside of Siem Reap) and got to experience the country for a brief moment.
Sure, I missed Angkor Wat thanks to it being closed for the day, but I was able to wander through crowded markets where the pungent smell of animal flesh permeated the air, and shop owners at the Night Market tried to hawk their various T-shirts, arts and other assorted goods at me. The Night Market reminds me a bit of Morocco’s souks where a whirlwind of colors, sounds and smells attack your senses, but without the pressure of having to spend, spend, spend.
While I was only in the country for a quick two days, one thing is for sure — I will be back!
The lights dim and then burn the eyes, a man and woman appear on opposite ends of the stage. Staring longingly at each other. What transpires next is a mix of sensuality, passion and dancing that leaves the audience entranced.
Photo courtesy of Devdan
The couple merges together, holding onto thick ribbons hung from the top of the stage. They intertwine, hold, lift into the air together, part and reunite, telling a story of forbidden love. The background: Borneo. But, on a stage far away … in Nusa Dua on the island of Bali.
After the dance, the lights dim once again. This time, a group of female dancers splash in the man-made river at the lip of the stage. There’s fire. There’s rain. It’s an all-out production and visually stunning.
It’s a far cry from all-you-can-eat-and-drink. In this moment, we’re soaking in the culture of Indonesia. And it is beautiful.
Photo courtesy Devdan
This stage performance, which has only been around for a little more than a year, is one way to learn more about the rich cultures that make up Indonesia. Part-Cirque and all dance, the 90-minute show takes audience members through traditional dances and more of Bali, Sumatra, Java, Borneo and Papua.
The show begins when two children separate themselves from a tour group and find a treasure chest which transports them to different cultures of Indonesia. With exotic costumes, traditional dances, whimsical performances that include rain, fire and even a boat ride, the children’s eyes are opened to more than they ever expected.
“Devdan” exposes audience members to quite the spectacle, merging history, love and contemporary themes into an entertaining show.
The bottom line: I really enjoyed this performance. Each cultural performance spans about 20 minutes or so. My favorite was Borneo, which plays out a gorgeous love story that is sexy and took me back to Cirque and Las Vegas. The dancers are ridiculously talented and the production value — other than the tracked dialogue of the children — is high quality, complete with breathtaking special effects. However, the one part that left me scratching my head was the hip hop dance that was awkwardly stuck into the show. Yes, the dancing was great, but it just didn’t seem to fit the rest of the show, which is designed to highlight some of the many cultures of Indonesia.
Editor’s Note: I was a guest of Devdan, however all opinions are my own. If you have questions regarding this, please read my disclosure policy.
A few weeks ago, Elephant Nature Park welcomed a new baby boy to the herd — Navann.
Of course, there will be a story coming, but for now, enjoy this adorable little guy! If you want more baby, be sure to check out this video of his first “bath.”
It’s one of those thick and gorgeous nights in Bali, when the air gently whispers in your ear, the ink black water of the Indian Ocean licks the soft butter-colored sand, and you can just barely make out puffy clouds lingering in the night sky.
Sitting outside at the Jukung Grill at Grand Mirage Resort, Daniel and I are enjoying overly-full stomachs, thanks to a decadent dinner, and more rose wine than we should. Late into our evening, an older couple sits across from us and we all begin chatting.
From the Isle of Mann, the two are on a 12-day holiday and this is their last night in paradise. Eventually, Daniel converses with the husband and I chat away with the wife.
She tells me of her battle with cancer (she’s been in remission for five years) and her need to just get out there and live. I tell her about my travels, my life today.
And, that’s when she says this:
“Please, dear. Do me this one favor.”
I raise my eyebrows, awaiting her response. Her face immediately turns from bright and sunny to a look of remorse.
“Please, with your life right now and traveling and everything, please do not turn Old and Lonely.”
Old. And Lonely.
Within a second, my airy October evening goes from light and happy to serious.
Old. And Lonely.
“Oh,” I say quickly, waving my hand, “I won’t.”
I try to say it with confidence, but there is none in my voice … or in my heart.
The truth is, being Old and Lonely is one of my greatest fears. I’m the single girl. I’m the girl that always gets asked by the perpetually-in-a-relationship girl “why on earth are you still single?”
As if it is a curse.
It’s not that I haven’t been in relationships — I have. Although most of them were horribly self-destructive. And, it’s not like I haven’t dated — I have. Although, most of the guys I have dated were total assholes. (Yeah, my taste in men has — up until very recently — sucked).
For many years, I stopped caring if I had a significant other. I mean, when I quit my job at 30 to go and travel, I was so thankful I wasn’t leaving the Love of My Life in Atlanta. Then, when I went backpacking, I was so thankful I wasn’t in a relationship with the person on the train next to me. But then, I was 31. And decided to move to Las Vegas. Which is like a cesspool of sleaze as far as dating goes. Ask any of my single (and amazing) girlfriends there. Finding a decent guy is next to impossible.
When I told my parents I was moving back there, I also told them I realized this decision would likely impact one of the things I wanted most in my life — to have children. Because, let’s face it, I wasn’t going to meet the man of my dreams living in Nevada.
It wasn’t until recently, I felt this sudden sense of urgency. This feeling of holy-shit-I’m-still-single-and-there-aren’t-even-any-potential-people-in-my-life moments. I mean, suddenly, I am 28, 29, 30, 31, 32, (gasp) 33 and I have … no one.
Old. And Lonely.
Arriving to Thailand, I hoped things would be different than Las Vegas.
Guess what?
They’re not.
In fact, it is worse here.
A few weeks ago, I was walking with an American (guy) friend and we were talking about dating.
“Shit, D,” he says to me as we walk down the street talking about him meeting Thai girls, “it must be just awful for you here in terms of dating.”
Thanks, buddy.
“Yeah,” I sigh, trying not to let the sting of his words penetrate my skin. “It pretty much sucks. The western guys want to date Thai girls … and the Thai guys …” I trail off.
So, on the gorgeous Bali evening when the woman tells me not to be Old and Lonely, it hits home. Hard.
As soon as I return from Bali, I make a promise to myself to go out more. To meet more people. To engage. To try and date in Thailand.
I’m in no rush to meet someone. I’ve waited 33 years for Mr. Right to walk down the tarmac. I don’t doubt it will happen at some point. And I can promise this: I will not be Old and Lonely. Just Old.
Editor’s Note: This is a guest post by travel blogger Nic Freeman.
Strolling through the bustling La BoqueriaMercat in Barcelona is a bit like falling down a Spanish rabbit hole into a vibrant, food-filled wonderland: once there, your senses become saturated and you are led on a journey of delights, adventures, bizarre encounters and cultural quirks.
La Boqueria Mercat in Barcelona
Also known as Mercat St Josep and The Boqueria Market, this produce-laden labyrinth is tucked just off Barcelona’s vibrant pedestrian vein, La Ramblas, offering an insight to the joys of Catalan food, language and culture. With roots dating back to the Middle Ages, La Boqueriahas a long history of local trade and quality produce that has contributed to the dynamic, interactive and award-winning market that attracts local food experts, Barcelona residents and tourists today.
Meat for sale at La Boqueria Mercat in Barcelona
As you weave along the tightly packed isles you’ll find bright, freshly-cut fruits buried in ice and legs of pork dangling overhead.
Chocolate delights at La Boqueria Mercat in Barcelona
You’ll see wheels of cheese stacked tall, and piles of chocolates, sweets and nutty nougat concoctions that bring out the child in everyone.
Fish vendors at La Boqueria Mercat in Barcelona
There are rows of fish vendors touting their sales with fluid Catalan tongues, and crooked little nannas pulling produce-stacked trolleys through the thick crowd.
Fresh produce at La Boqueria Mercat in Barcelona
I was so delighted with this market that I found myself drawn back three times over the three days I was in Barcelona, seeking out morning coffee, picnic supplies and a evening snack before the late 10pm Spanish dinner sitting.
Getting there:
La Boqueria is part way along La Ramblas in central Barcelona and an easy walking distance from the metro hub, Catalunya. Starting from Catalunya, just walk down La Ramblas, past the tourist stalls, florists and street performers, towards the Barceloneta seaside (by graeter). Mid way along La Ramblas, you will see the entrance arch to the undercover market on your right side.
The market is live and ready for you to visit between Monday and Saturday, from 8am to 8.30pm. It makes a great first stop along the Barcelona tourist trail, with espresso and vino for €1.10, picnic and sightseeing-appropriate snacks and plenty of opportunities to practice your Spanish pleases and thank you.
It’s cool in the lounge where Daniel (my friend who has flown to Bali to meet me for the weekend) and I sit, awaiting our keys to our suite at the Grand Mirage Resort.
“Would you like a drink?” Asks one of the hotel’s staff, clad in a skirt, button-up shirt and heels. “We have wine,” she says, following up.
I take one look at the sweeping view of the Indian Ocean outside of the windows to the lounge and smile to Daniel.
Yes, wine, please.
We take the glasses filled with light pink liquid and raise them towards each other.
“To Bali,” we say, smiling.
Photo courtesy Grand Mirage Resort
The ocean view suite
Daniel and I haven’t stepped beyond the immaculately clean lobby when reception informs us our weekend is going to be beyond amazing.
“We’ve upgraded you from an oceanview room to an oceanview suite.”
“Did you hear that?” He asks me as we walk away from the desk. “They’ve upgraded us.”
“We’ll see,” I say, trying not to get my hopes up. I don’t get upgrades. I get rooms with spiders and showers that don’t work.
But, as per usual, my Austrian friend is right. We’ve got a suite.
The two of us take the elevator to the fourth floor and exit, walking down a long and airy hall to the end of the corridor where a statue awaits us at our door. We slide the key in …
Holy wow.
“It’s kind of like we’re in a museum,” I whisper as we take in the entry way, lined with statues and backlit.
Then, we move towards the main part of the room. To one side are floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the Grand Mirage’s well-manicured grounds. There’s a moveable flat screen television, a little minibar (with complimentary refills daily, thanks to our reservation being all-inclusive), a couch, table and a chair.
To the other side is the master bedroom, a gorgeous, dark-floored masterpiece with a poster bed swathed with shimmery see-through green fabric, a wrap-around balcony and a bathroom complete with bath tub (delicious) and shower.
He and I exchange delighted looks.
“I almost want to jump on the bed,” I tell him, trying to contain my delight at our luck with the suite.
“Yeah, this isn’t bad at all,” he says, whipping out his phone and making a quick video. “I can’t wait to post this on Facebook and let everyone see my home for the weekend.”
And, what a home it was.
The great outdoors
Because we are gifted with the all-inclusive designation, we have access to all non-motorized sports at Grand Mirage Resort. That means we get to hop on a catamaran or try our luck wind-surfing. I skip the windsurfing, but Daniel gives it a go.
We do take up the catamaran. While it is scenic ride off-shore, I’m disappointed that it is a quick 15-minutes. I barely find a comfortable position on the vinyl before we are turning around at the reef and heading back to shore. But, it is a nice break from sunning and swimming to hop on a floatation device and take in the resort and the water from a different perspective.
Then, there’s the beach. While Daniel and I are here, the beach isn’t ridiculously crowded. Sure, a family ends up camping right next to me on the second day and chatting loudly as I try to fall asleep. But, I can only imagine the resort during high-season. We manage to find seats each day, although sometimes people leave their towels after they’ve departed the beach.
As far as the beach goes, it is clean. And beautiful. There are gorgeous day beds to purchase for $15 a day. And, then there’s the sea. It’s super warm. And, the seaweed likes to get entangled in my toes. After a quick swim, I opt for the pool instead.
Photo courtesy of Grand Mirage Resort
The pool at Grand Mirage is huge. There’s a waterfall, a volleyball area and more. While parts of it are overrun with kids (hey, this is a family resort for the most part), I am able to find a spot where I only have to dodge jumping kids a few times.
The dining
Our first meal at Grand Mirage is the Grand Cafe buffet. It’s decent — but I’m a vegetarian and there are only a handful of choices, so for the remainder of the trip, Daniel and I opt for a menu instead.
Photo courtesy Grand Mirage Resort
Our first night, we head to the Jukung Grill, a gorgeous open-air restaurant nearly on the shore of the Indian Ocean. Over more rosé, I dine on the grilled fish and listen to the soft lap of water hitting the sand and a group of traveling musicians serenade the guests.
Dinner our last two nights is spent at the resort’s Italian spot, La Cascasta. Daniel can’t get enough of the dishes — particularly the lamb. I love the fresh bread and olive oil.
After three months in Thailand, fresh olive oil is pure heaven.
Breakfast every day is a gorgeous buffet — again without too many vegetarian options — but with an omelette station that makes some of the best omelettes I’ve had in SE Asia.
Lunch varies between Jukung and Grand Cafe. I can barely stomach the coconut I order as a drink — its hot and doesn’t have the same flavor I’ve grown accustomed to in Thailand; and the veggie burger I order seems more like a big dollop of mashed potatoes with veggies mixed in. But, it’s not bad. And, with a view of the tropics, I can’t really argue. Whatever is lacking in taste is made up for in sheer beauty of the surroundings.
The drinks
One of the best parts of being all-inclusive is the free booze. There, I said it. It’s a vacation and booze is definitely a part of anything that is categorized as a vacation in my book. The first night, we fill up on rosé wine. The rest of the weekend, we’re a bit more conservative.
I don’t want to be hungover in paradise.
I do love the swim-up pool bar. And, the mojitos they put out have just enough liquor to give me a buzz after the second.
But, after that, we’re pretty responsible.
Thalasso Bali Spa
I’ve been to plenty of spas in my day, thanks to living in Las Vegas. When we walk through the sand and sea shells of the cream-colored spa, my heart flutters.
This. This oozes relaxation.
Photo courtesy Grand Mirage Resort
I indulge in a 55-minute aroma therapy massage and it feels like heaven. Serious heaven. Set inside a deep blue room with little lights inset in the ceiling, reminiscent of twinkling stars, I instantly feel my body unwind (although it wasn’t too tight to being with, thanks to living in Thailand and the bounty of inexpensive massages I treat myself to on a weekly basis).
“You ok?” My masseuse asks as she gently glides her hands over my back, slick with oil designed to ease muscle aches (you know, from that overnight in Bangkok since Air Asia doesn’t offer any non-stops from Chiang Mai to Denspar).
When the massage is done, I feel light as a feather and slip back into my bathing suit to sidle up to the pool-side bar.
The customer service
Daniel and I are lounging on our cushion-y chairs, soaking up the sounds of the Indian Ocean our first evening when a staff member comes up to us.
“We are going to play football, you want to come?” He asks us.
I feel like I am on a cruise. Although, I’ve never been on a cruise this is how I imagine staff to be. Go, go, get involved.
“Sure, I can do sports,” Daniel says, pulling himself up from the chair and disappearing off to go and kick a ball around with others.
Throughout the weekend, the interest in our time at the resort is apparent.
“Everything OK Miss?”
“Would you like to …”
“How was your meal?”
“We’ve arranged your transportation …”
It’s like I walked into a bubble of care where the customer is actually important. It’s a nice change from meals where plates are put down without regard to the company at the table.
The bottom line:
This resort caters more towards families and couples, and at times the kids and couples making out in the pool can be a bit much. But, the resort can’t control that. I love the attention to detail — the floor mats in elevators remind guests what day it is, because, you know, it’s easy to forget when you’re in paradise. Customer service is above average. Rooms are clean, beautiful and well-maintained. With the all-inclusive, the mini-bar is re-stocked daily. For free. Amenities are wonderful, minus the lack of veggie options in the restaurants. Having the award-winning spa on property is fantastic, plus there are options to have an outdoor massage on a whim. Would I go back? You bet.
Editor’s Note: My time in Bali was courtesy of Grand Mirage Resort, however all opinions are my own. If you have questions regarding this, please read my disclosure policy.
Editor’s Note: This post is written by Jo Turnbull, a fellow 30-Life-Crisis-Screw-It-I’m-Traveling-Travel-Blogger. She’s rad.
Turning 30 is normally the age when you buy your house, settle down, have a couple of children and go to work every day for the next 30 years. I have done the complete opposite. I moved out of my apartment that I owned, I rented it out, moved into a shared house with friends, quit my job and went traveling. For those dreading turning 30 this year, I have a few tips for those who are not following the traditional route.
London Eye
Don’t worry about the age
Yes I know it is easier said than done, but if you keep thinking that you are old, then you will always ensure age plays a factor in what you do. For example, you may want to quit your job, but as you are 30 you might think you have to be sensible and stick at it, that it will just get better.
It won’t.
If you want to leave and try something else, just do it. Don’t sit around waiting for a change. Make the change yourself — you will feel so much better as a result.
Don’t be concerned with what others are doing
You cannot deny it, we are at the age when people are getting married, or moving in together and having children. Don’t obsess about what your friends are doing, make sure you do what is right for you. If you are single and have no ties, you are in the fortunate position to go wherever you want and do what ever you want. Think of it from a different angle: you are single so are not tied down to anything and can go anywhere at the drop of a hat while your friends with children struggle to get childcare for a rare night out.
Appreciate being 30
Do you really wish you were younger? In your 20s you were more insecure, probably doing work for university or college, trying to get ahead in your job, working all those extra hours and for what? Oh, experience! Now that you are 30, you do not need to worry about this as much. You probably have more experience and are able to advance in your career without working long hours and putting up with the demands from that annoying boss. In your 20s you may have been studying extra qualifications outside of work to get ahead in your job. Now being 30, you have probably got that Masters or second qualification after university, so you don’t need to study at the weekend and have more time for yourself.
Rome
Live your dream
If you have always wanted to go traveling round the world or go and teach English in Japan, now is the time to do it. Do not put it off any longer. You are still young, you have the work experience, so getting back into work will not be as difficult as when you were a graduate. It will be much easier to save now as you have had a lot more practice, so you can go off travelling and exploring without worrying about having to find a job straight away.
Push yourself
Don’t think you have now done everything at 30 years old. Continue to seek out new challenges. I was never good at running, but did my personal best at Race for Life when I turned 30. It has always been important for me to keep fit and recently I have joined British Military Fitness, which is the cheapest way to work out. Gyms can get boring and if you are just working out by yourself, you may lack motivation. Find something you enjoy or a goal you have always wanted to achieve, perhaps you may want to run the London Marathon or take part in an Ironman or Triathlon.
Turning 30 is great. For women being single and approaching the big 3-0 can seem daunting, but stop looking at it that way. Go out! Have fun! When you turn 30, itis the start of the time of your life. You have more confidence, more money and you take less flak from people. Being 30 is old enough to known better and still young enough to do it!
I’ve dreamed of going to the exotic Indonesian island of Bali for ages. Pretty sure even before that book came out all about eating, praying and loving. In my mind, I always envisioned a paradise of sorts where reality and dreams mingle together on the soft sands of the Indian Ocean.
You know what?
It’s true.
A few weeks ago, I bopped down to Bali to spend a long weekend. Sure, the flights were a bit of a pain from Chiang Mai to the tropical island, but it was well worth it as soon as I walked into my room at the Grand Mirage Resort and was greeted with this simply magnificent view.
Want more on my trip to Bali? Stay tuned!!
Editor’s Note: My time in Bali was courtesy of Grand Mirage Resort, however all opinions are my own. If you have questions regarding this, please read my disclosure policy.
The early morning rays of the sun are barely creeping through my apartment window when my alarm buzzes.
Time to get up.
It’s a Saturday, and I am awake at 6 a.m. for a good reason: I am going on my first journey outside of Chiang Mai. Today, I’m hopping into a Top North minivan along with two friends, and heading out for a 13-hour tour of the Chiang Rai/Golden Triangle (Myanmar and Laos) area.
We hop into our van, which is filled with other travelers, and begin our journey.
The first stop, around 8 a.m., is a hot spring about 45 minutes outside of town. In my mind, I envision a bubbling, sulfur brook surrounded by lush jungle vegetation.
It is nothing like that. Not even remotely.
Instead, there are two little areas with water, both not natural-looking at all. Essentially, a large tourist area has been created around these two warm waters, which are now manicured and contained in stone casings. Around the hot springs are little huts hawking everything from food and coffee to T-shirts, bags, and other random souvenirs. It’s a well-done tourist trap with some water features. That’s it.
Fortunately, the hot springs aren’t really on my radar in terms of things I want to see. What I care about is the next stop: the White Temple, or Wat Ron Khung.
The intricate temple began construction in 1997 and is still a work-in-progress today. Created by artist Chalermchai Kositpipat, the temple is designed to be open to all and to symbolize the passage into heaven, including passing through hell. The details here are breathtaking — from the twirls of smoke on the “no smoking” signs to the hands reaching up from the pits of hell as visitors walk across a white bridge towards the temple.
Even inside the temple, which was under construction when I visited, details abound. The murals, which have sparked some debate, further show heaven and hell, tying the concept to today and news of the world. Painted on the walls is the tragic 9/11, Superman and more.
We stand, silent, taking in these images for a moment before we notice a wax monk sitting at the head of the room.
Odd.
But, it seems to fit with everything else.
The next stop for us is the Karen hill tribe village.
After what seems like forever in the van, we head off the main road and down a windy path to a village with one dirt road. Only, it isn’t really a village at all. It’s more like some huts with villagers selling their goods, encouraging us to buy, buy, buy.
I don’t even take my camera out when we visit the long neck tribe. It just feels like we are exploiting them as they sit there, brass encircling their necks, arms, knees, and smiling for photos. Our guide even pulls out a picture showing us what they look like when they sleep.
I’m not impressed.
In fact, if there was one aspect of the trip I would skip, it would be this. I know there are other ways to support hill tribes and simply heading to a remote spot where they set up shop and are on display for tourists isn’t my idea of how it should be done.
“I hate this,” I whisper to my friend as some of our tour group stops to take photos with the token twins in the tribe. “It just doesn’t feel right.”
My friend nods her head, rolls her eyes and together, we walk back across the rickety bamboo bridge to where a litter of puppies are curled up.
Yeah, we’d rather play with puppies than “ooh” and “ahh” at hill tribe people who essentially are a tourist attraction.
After we don’t buy anything at the “village,” we journey onward to the Golden Triangle. What used to be vast opium fields, today the area is simply where three countries — Thailand, Myanmar and Laos — converge.
Its got casinos, huge golden buddhas and a quick boat tour that has a stop on an island in Laos where people can drink Laos beer, try the whisky with dead animals in it, or shop for “genuine fakes.”
We hand over our boat ticket and when we get back on the boat, the ticket is returned with a Laos stamp on it.
Again, not impressed. But, the boat ride is nice and I love the idea of straddling three different countries at once.
Finally, we head to Mesai on the border of Myanmar. Typically, this is where people who need to do border runs head to get their stamp in and out. We are given one whole hour (compared to the 30 minutes we normally have at each spot) to shop (of course). But, its sweltering hot and the shops are all offering the same goods for the same prices.
It’s nearly 4:30 p.m. when we finally head back towards Chiang Mai from the Chiang Rai region. We’ve got a four-plus hour drive back to the city and the rain clouds are hovering. Eventually, they give way to thunderstorms, which at least lull me to sleep for a quick bit.
By the time we get back to Chiang Mai, I’m well-rested (hey, there were ample opportunities to nap in the van during the 14-hour day) and a bit disappointed in the experience.
The bottom line: I would not do the tour again. While the tour guide is great, the tour itself if lacking. It seems there are plenty of tour operators all offering the same itinerary. But, not enough time is given at the various places to explore. And, most of the time is spent on the bus. I’d prefer to head simply to Chiang Rai for two days and explore the area that way, instead of being ushered around with time limits and extensive periods sitting on a bus.
Since I now am an expat in Thailand, spending my days helping Save Elephant Foundation (which includes a healthy mix of visiting it’s flagship project, Elephant Nature Park), I have oh-so many photos of life here. Namely, life with elephants. Let’s face it, I could take photos of tuk tuks, views from my apartment and more, but what people probably want to see are more of the adorable elephants, right?
Well, here you go.
Mae Kham Paan loves her time in the river. She’s one of the only ones who takes it upon her self during bath time to reach her trunk into the river, soak up water and then shoot it out of her trunk and onto her back. The most awesome thing? She does it with a huge smile on her face. Swear.
D Travels 'Round 