Landmine Museum, Cambodia

This is a bit grim, but I took this photo at the Aki Rai Landmine Museum a few miles out of Siem Reap a few years back. I wrote about how I got to the museum here, when it still hadn't opened to the public. The landmines and warheads you see here are just a few of the thousands that were installed and set off by the Khmer Rouge. 

Just an update

So here's the situation. I quit my job yesterday.

(Cue cries of shock, surprise and anguish)

Honestly, this has been going on for a long time in my head. I'm not leaving for a better company or for better pay, I'm just leaving to be happier. My present colleagues are a joy to work with, in fact, it was the thought of leaving my team that made it so difficult to put the letter in. If there was anything holding me back, it was my office mates.

But I've done it, so yes. There you go. 

And so here comes the tricky part. I don't have a new job.

It's all very scary right now, but I have a vague-ish idea of what I'll be getting up to. I'll be doing my own stuff. I'm mysterious like that, but things'll get clearer as we go along. Not only will I be travelling and writing more, I'll also be writing more of the stuff I actually want to write about. And that has to be a good thing.

My family is supportive, but my friends have been incredible. It's amazing when your friends have more faith in you than you do yourself. I don't know where they get their fancy ideas from, that I'll be okay, that I won't end up eating cold instant noodles for the rest of my life. They're insane and deserve to be slapped. Me? I just want to be happy.

So I'm looking for a photo of myself to show how freaked out I am about all this and I can't find any. The thing about me and photos is that I'm always grinning in them, and that doesn't exactly represent how I feel about the future, as exciting as it may seem. 

So as much as I would prefer a photo of myself going berserk and looking scared out of my wits, this is the best I can come up with: 

The future's so bright, I gotta wear shades (I think). 

Barefoot

We were in The Haight, San Francisco, when I saw her. She was sitting cross-legged outside a tattoo parlour in frayed olive green trousers, a long-sleeved black top and beads around her neck. She was also barefoot, the soles of her feet black and grimy.

Every time anyone walked past, she would smile sleepily and raise her hand to beg, but she didn't say anything. Very few people gave her money and if they did, it was mostly coins.

After about 10 minutes, which was how long I spent looking at tie-dye t-shirts in the shop next door, she got up and left.

We were on Haight Street and it was about three in the afternoon. My (then) boyfriend had gone off and disappeared into a dodgy-looking shop three doors down while our other friend was looking at colourful skirts somewhere at the back. Somehow she'd never struck me as the tie-dye type.

The t-shirts hanging in front of me swung to one side and a face poked through.

"Hey." My boyfriend was back. "Found some good stuff. I even met a guy who told me his whole life story."

"Really now," I said.

"Really. Let's go look for something to eat."

We passed the tattoo parlour, some kids getting high by the corner, the jewellery shops with the tongue and navel studs, more kids, the smoke shops and the shops selling kinky underwear when I saw her again, the barefoot girl in faded black, her brown hair turning red in the sun. 

This time she was standing outside a '60s record store, once again reaching out pathetically, asking for money. "Please? Please?" she said as people walked by. 

The three of us found a small pizza place across the street and I watched the girl as she continued to beg for spare change. "She's not asking for money to buy food," my boyfriend said in between bites. I asked him how he knew.

Chomp. "She would say so, right? 'I haven't eaten since yesterday, I need some money for food', etc. She didn't say that, so the money's for something else." Chomp chomp.

I thought about what he said. Do people really tell the truth when they beg? I've given spare change to people who'd said they hadn't eaten since the day before or needed money for a train ticket home, only to see them buying cigarettes a few minutes later.

The girl, in her early 20s, was getting ready to leave. She looked around one last time, her arms lowered, her hands no longer reaching out for sympathy. I saw her shoulders hunch as she looked down at her bare feet and in that instant, I felt guilty and turned away.

When I turned back to look, she was already gone.

The birth of a road trip

In October 2009, a group of friends and I flew into San Francisco, rented a car, drove to Los Angeles, acquired another car, and drove to Boston. After Boston we took a bus south to New York City and from there went on to Washington, DC.

Our journey looked like this:

©Burzum

Before our (pretty long) drive I had never gone on a road trip let alone visited the US, so the idea of driving over such a large expanse of land was both very exciting and a little daunting. The great thing about travelling nowadays, though, is the wealth of information that's available for the taking. As long as you know how to search for the information you need, you're almost guaranteed of finding it. 

Like most road trips, or trips in general, the route we eventually took wasn't pre-planned. My friends and I knew that we would be flying into San Francisco and flying out of DC, but we hadn't entirely decided what was going to happen in between. We knew that we would be stopping in Los Angeles, Austin, Memphis and New York City, but other than that, the route was still very much a mystery. 

It was only when we were in LA that our route was finally mapped out. I still remember that day; three of us were in our hotel dining area, either on our laptops or having coffee when the fourth member of our group came across a website called Auto Driveaway. This company does something rather interesting- it relocates or delivers vehicles from anywhere in the US to another location in the country. Vehicles, whether they be trucks, bikes or cars, are transported across the country pretty regularly for various reasons. Maybe a large national corporation wants to transport a company car from one branch to another, for instance, so it contacts Auto Driveaway.

But the really special thing about this company is that it doesn't transport the vehicles - you do it. You do the delivering. The company connects customers who want their vehicles delivered with people who don't mind driving it to the collection point. It was that link, that connection, which allowed us to figure out our route.

We found out from Auto Driveaway that there was lady living in LA who wanted her Jeep delivered to her daughter in Boston. It was like magic. We looked at our map, saw the great distance in between and took less than five seconds to say yes, we would so love to drive this lady's car all the way to Boston. 

Which we did. At the end of our road trip, we drove a total of 5,380 miles (8,658 kilometres) through 14  states. 

My 7 Super Shots

I love taking photographs when I travel and although I'm not a brilliant photographer, once in a while I get the chance to show off my snapshots. About four months ago, HostelBookers started a sort of game where you were supposed to publish seven of your best photos under specific categories, and then tag other travel bloggers to do the same. 

Aaron of The Adventures of the elatlboy tagged me a while back (thanks Aaron!), so here are are my '7 Super Shots'.  

1- A photo that takes my breath away.

I can never get over how beautiful Lake Tekapo in New Zealand is. I've seen dozens of photos like this- that same shade of blue, that same little church and the same mountains in the background, and every photo is just perfect. When my bus arrived in Tekapo that day, I got down and walked to the lake so that I could spend a few more minutes there until the bus finally rumbled up to the shore. Those precious extra minutes were worth it. 

 2- Makes me laugh or smile

This was taken on a hot day in Hanoi and I was outside one of its museums when I saw this group of old men taking a break and chilling out. These guys looked so relaxed and happy. Every time I see this photo I'm reminded of how hot it was and how I zoomed in on them, hoping that they wouldn't notice I was taking their photo.

3- Makes me dream

Another New Zealand snapshot, but this time in Kaikoura. This was early one morning in winter and I was walking by the coast towards town when I saw this amazing view. This photo just calms me down and takes me back to that day.

4- Makes me think

Not an easy photo to look at, even after all these years, and maybe not ever. This was in Choeung Ek in Cambodia, better known as the 'Killing Fields'. I shot this in black and white, thinking that it would work on an image such as this, and I guess it did. Visiting this site was extremely distressing but necessary as a reminder of the atrocities that the Cambodians were put through. I went with a friend and it was some time before we could actually speak to each other after that.

5- Makes my mouth water

Ah, Turkey and its wonderful, wonderful food. I'd been wandering around Eminonu in Istanbul since the morning and was planning to take the tram back to Sultanahmet for lunch when I chanced upon this restaurant by the roadside. I wouldn't have missed it even if I'd tried - a man was roasting whole chickens on a spit outside the restaurant and there was this amazing aroma which was impossible to ignore. I didn't have the chicken but I ordered some meatballs, which were delicious. Definitely one of the best meals I've ever had on my travels.

6- Tells a story

This was taken in a village outside Luang Prabang. I was walking along this river (probably the Nam Khan) with my hiking group when the girl in the photo ran onto the bridge. She then climbed down and to our surprise, locked her ankles around the stilts and hung upside down, lowering herself and splashing her hair into the water several times. At first we didn't know what she was doing. It was only when she took out a bottle of shampoo from her shorts pocket that we realised she was washing her hair. That's what she's doing in the photo, lathering her hair.    

7- Most proud of (ie. my 'National Geographic' shot)

Whoa, talk about the pressure involved in choosing this last photo! This is one of my favourites because it's such a simple shot. I was in one of the temples in Angkor when this barefooted kid appeared out of nowhere and dashed up the steps. I followed him with my camera and suddenly he stopped and turned to look at me. I called for him to come down, but he ran off.

So there you go, those are my '7 Super Shots' which I'm required to post as part of the deal. And since we're still in the game, I'm tagging Nisha of Le Monde, Amer, the travelling architect of Tend To Travel and Farah of ThatSoFarah. They're now officially IT. 

Sleepless in Shenzhen

I will always remember the train from Guilin to Shenzhen as the train where I did not sleep.

It all began with the Man Who Snored.  He came on board when the train stopped at a small station, way past midnight, and after we had left Guilin far behind. 

I was on my bottom bunk, halfway into a dream when I heard someone enter our compartment. Something brushed against my nose and I guessed it was someone’s jacket or backpack. I opened my eyes and saw a man stuffing a backpack and plastic bags- the thin, noisy, crinkly kind- under the bunk opposite mine.

He then took off his shoes, lay down and immediately went to sleep. The only problem was that I couldn’t. 

This man did not snore quietly. There was no gentle build-up. He launched straight into his snoring the second he lay down, blubbering and gurgling away, sounding like he was being murdered underwater.

I looked at my fellow compartment mates. They had fallen asleep hours earlier and didn’t appear to be affected by this annoying man, although I thought I heard the teenager in the top bunk swear. The other three seemed to be fast asleep.

The snoring did not stop, but instead got louder. The train was dimly lit but I could see by the light from the corridor. The man was lying on his back and his mouth was wide open, his lips quivering as the unholy sounds sprung forth.

I gave up. I took my daypack and blanket and went out in search of an empty bunk. It was about 2am. None of the train attendants were in sight, which was a good thing. I would hate for them to see me creeping around, searching for another bunk in the dead of night, looking like I was up to no good.

A little up ahead, I found a compartment which was completely unoccupied. What luck! I thought as I climbed into the top bunk, where nobody would notice me because it was so close to the ceiling.

Soon after I dozed off, I realised my bed was swaying.  At first I thought it was an earthquake, then I realised that quakes didn’t make strange noises in the dark.

A couple had climbed into the bed directly beneath mine. I heard whispers and giggling, then the sounds of kissing and more giggling.

I listened to their whispers, fascinated, wishing I could understand their Cantonese. I was curious about them. Where did they come from? Had they met on the train or had they planned this trip together? 

I don’t remember if I actually slept at all that night. I must have, but it was probably only for a few minutes. All I remember is climbing down the bunk as quietly as I could at 5.25am –I wanted to get back to my own bunk before we were due to arrive in Shenzhen at 6.30. Before I left, I stole a look at the couple. They were young, maybe in their late teens, and fast asleep and smiling contentedly amid crumpled sheets and blankets.

The arrival at Shenzhen was chaotic, as Chinese train arrivals usually are. I was in no hurry. Unlike everyone else, who would be welcomed by their husbands and wives and parents at the station, no-one would be greeting me or taking me home.

There was only one thing I wanted to do – to find a hotel room and sleep.

On The Rock

The noticeboard itself was plain and black and unexceptional, but the words stood out. Right at the top was "21 March 1963", and directly beneath it: "Assorted dry cereals,  steamed wheat, 1 scrambled egg, 2 milk".

I was in the dining hall and that was the breakfast menu. Only it wasn't my breakfast. 

March 21, 1963 was when the maximum security prison on Alcatraz Island shut down, and the breakfast on the noticeboard was the last meal the inmates had before they were transferred to a replacement facility. 

"That make you hungry?" a middle-aged man next to me motioned towards the noticeboard. "Not really," I laughed.

***

Before Alcatraz opened as a US Federal Penitentiary, it served as a military fortress in 1853 and later, as an Army prison. Alcatraz began receiving Civil War prisoners in 1861 and following the 1906 San Francisco earthquake, began receiving civilian prisoners from the mainland. Finally in 1934, due to rising costs, the military was forced to shut down its prison and hand it over to the Department of Justice. 

The Justice Department acquired Alcatraz at the right time. Following the Great Depression, America was hit by a crime wave in the late 1920s and there was public clamour for order to be restored in light of the surge in organised crime. Much louder, though, were the cries for a more secure,  'special' kind of prison for these dangerous criminals. Alcatraz Island, isolated and surrounded by the strong currents of San Francisco Bay, was the perfect solution. Work began in April 1934 to upgrade Alcatraz into a high-security facility. 

One gets an idea of how the inmates lived, on a tour of the old cell blocks. In one section on the ground floor, I saw lockers where inmates' shoes, clothes and towels were stored. It was a clear day and sunlight streamed through the windows, falling on the shoes that were arranged neatly on low cabinets nearby. 

Officially, no-one has ever escaped from Alcatraz alive. The story of Frank Morris, however, suggests otherwise. Morris, found guilty of various narcotics-related crimes, arrived on Alcatraz Island in January 1960 and reportedly began planning his escape soon after that. Within a few months, a concrete plan was devised with the help of three other inmates-brothers John and Clarence Anglin and another man called Allen West.

This true story is the subject of the movie 'Escape from Alcatraz', with Clint Eastwood playing Frank Morris. If you've seen the movie, you'll remember how the four of them scraped through the air vents at the back of their cells and dug a tunnel out of the prison. That was indeed how Morris and his friends had escaped. The great thing is that you can see Morris' cell in Cell Block B, furnished just like it was at the time of his escape. There's a dummy laying in bed, just like in the movie and the dug-out air vent is clearly visible. 

On the night of the escape, everything went according to plan, except that Allen West couldn't leave his cell in time. Some of their personal effects were found on nearby Angel Island, but Morris and the Anglin brothers were never caught. The official view is that they drowned in San Francisco Bay, although their bodies were never recovered. Morris would be 86 in September if he were still alive.

Standing in the dining hall, I looked up again at the noticeboard on the wall. I tried to imagine what meal times must have been like. 

I imagined the inmates eating and drinking, maybe even laughing, as they quietly planned their escape.