Central America Part 1: Guatemala, Honduras, and El Salvador

After 3 years of surviving the pandemic in China, I decided to leave for a sabbatical (a fancier word for ‘period of unemployment’). I determined that I needed a well-deserved break from all things China and to escape the madness. I made it home for Christmas and felt like Chris Rea on my way back, but where he was surrounded by traffic and red lights, I was surrounded by hazmat suits and red communist flags, otherwise exactly the same.

The Christmas period is a great time to be home. Everyone’s off work, there’s football on every day, and there’s an acceptance to drink alcohol with breakfast. It was great to catch up with friends and family after 3 long years, but after the Christmas period, things return to normal very quickly. People go back to work and some begin ‘dry January’ which makes you question your friendship with them. It is especially hard for those in a period of unemployment as you’re left with very little to do, which is when I got that ‘itchy feet’ feeling. I resolved my underlying skin issues (atopic dermatitis, if you were wondering) and then I got the desire to travel.

It’s rare to have such an opportunity to travel for a long period of time. At my age, it was probably the last chance to enjoy a 3-month trip before settling down. Not that I’m old, but it just starts to become weird if you’re that older guy still kicking it with the kids. Anyway, I began planning my trip with the possibility to go anywhere! Asia? I’ve covered most of that. Russia? Too hostile. Africa? Too destitute. You know, when I’m on holiday I don’t want poverty to bring my mood down. So, I settled on two parts of the world I have never been to before - Central and South America. Sure, there’s poverty in that part of the world, but it’s less shocking, so it’s easier to ignore.

I started planning meticulously where to go, where to stay, what to do, but it’s exhausting for a trip of this magnitude. I’d be travelling by myself, so I’d be free to do anything I wanted, but I didn’t know where to start. A friend had told me about joining a tour group where the itinerary is planned for you, accommodation is booked, a tour guide explains everything to you, and you don’t have to worry about speaking the local lingo. The only downside is that you don’t get to choose the people you’ll be spending a number of weeks with. They could be narcissists, sex offenders, or even worse Tottenham fans. Despite this risk, I decided to go for it. It definitely seemed the easier option compared to staying in hostels and trying to make friends on a daily basis. I couldn’t face the potential rejection as I face enough rejection on dating apps.

It was all set 3 weeks in Central America travelling through Guatemala, Honduras, El Salvador, Nicaragua, and Costa Rica. From there I would fly to South America through Peru, Bolivia, Chile, Argentina, Uruguay, and Brazil over 10 weeks.

Guatemala

The meeting point for the tour was in Antigua, Guatemala. This is where I’d meet the group members. The groups are advertised to 18-30 somethings, and I was hoping the group would have a few more 30 somethings than 18-year-olds. I checked into the hotel and had arrived before my roommate. I dropped my bag and found that the meeting time was 6pm, which gave me time to explore Antigua.

A beautiful place to begin the tour

When I returned to the hotel that evening, I opened the door to the hotel to meet my roommate, AJ. He was wearing nothing but a towel. I didn’t know where to look, but I knew where not to look. I shook his hand and introduced myself while trying to act cool and casual. Contrary to the rumours, I try not to make a habit of meeting men in changing rooms where they’re only wearing towels. AJ and I chatted about how we’d spent the last couple of days getting to Guatemala and then realised we were late for the meeting. We raced down and joined the meeting where my expectations were interrupted. The group of people I met were more likely to have been born in 1918-1930 something rather than being aged 18-30 something. I wondered what I had gotten myself into. What I realised was that there are younger tour groups available, but I had opted for the ‘comfort’ tour meaning it was aimed at people of all ages. I felt that I was on a SAGA holiday.

Over the coming weeks, I would get to know everyone on the tour, but the first person was Georgie, mid-20s, from Bath. As one of the few youngsters on the tour, I was drawn to her immediately. She gave me someone to bond with and through a quick chat we realised we had a mutual friend. Her best friend from school also moved to Beijing and played for Beijing Celtic Ladies! Not that I played for Beijing Celtic Ladies, but you know what I mean.

Honduras

The next day we were already on the move to Honduras. All aboard the early bus and I got chatting to Raymond, 60-ish, from Belfast. Within seconds we established we are both Gooners and spent the next 5 hours on the bus talking about how much we love William Saliba. He also explained that he was teetotal as he’d many bad experiences with alcohol. His bad experiences that lead to him giving up the booze sounded like standard Saturday nights for me. I told him he was just hitting his stride during that period.

My knowledge of all things Honduran was limited to Maynor Figueroa and Wilson Palacios (the latter having played for Sp*rs, so we weren’t off to a great start). We were taken to the ruins of Copan, which is an archaeological site of the Maya civilization. Geographically, the Mayans were located from Southern Mexico down as far as El Salvador. Their civilisation dates as far back as 2000 B.C., but the city of Copan was established around 426 A.D. The ancient Mayans have been credited with many great inventions including the concept of the number ‘0’, chocolate, a complex calendar system, a written language, and astronomy. They also massacred people and sacrificed children to the gods. Copan may be the only place more dangerous for children than the set of ITV’s This Morning.

Nature has reclaimed the buildings of the past

El Salvador

Only a day was spent in Honduras exploring the ruins before we were back on the bus and off to El Salvador. El Salvador had been in the news recently for the opening of their ‘mega prison’ which can contain up to 40,000 prisoners. For years, El Salvador had some of the worst gang crime in the world, which president Nayib Bukele was determined to tackle. He gave approval to the police forces to arrest any suspected gang members with gang tattoos being enough evidence to arrest and sentence them. His tough stance on crime has seen more than 64,000 people arrested. The effects of this have reduced crime rates and the homicide rate has remained at 0 for the past year.

Our tour guide, Choco (a nickname given to him regarding his poor eyesight), warned us about the political changes in the country with the caveat that these don’t affect tourists. One concerned group member was Tommy, 40-ish, from Chicago and the most flamboyantly gay man I have ever met. He was concerned that he would be targeted and arrested for his tattoos. Unless there is a gang in El Salvador that uses a unicorn as their gang symbol, then Tommy had nothing to worry about. Tommy and I got on really well, as it went. He was very self-indulgent and all conversations revolved around him. I didn’t mind him and found his flamboyant ways quite funny. Tommy liked spending time with me for obvious reasons. I’m very much a lust object for the homosexuals, I’m used to the attention.

Our first stop in El Salvador was the quaint town of Suchitoto. This tranquil, colonial town was picturesque, but it came with a dark history. During the Salvadoran Civil War, the surrounding jungle wilderness was the hiding spots for the guerrilla fighters who fought against the El Salvadoran national military. They were fighting in response to the mistreatment of the poor, the assassination of Archbishop Oscar Romero, and an alliance with the United States. During the height of the war, many people had moved from the towns to the underground tunnels in the surrounding mountains. We went on a guided hiking tour to see these former guerrilla settlements. Everyone in the group signed up for the tour including Ian, 78, from Liverpool. Everyone asked him if he was certain that he wanted to go, not because of any physical worries, but because he was legally blind. When I was back home and imagined my tour, I thought I would share experiences with new friends, go for beers with the lads, and even meet a few saucy birds, I didn’t think I’d be hanging out with David Blunkett. Out came his white stick and off he went tapping his way through the forest with Choco on hand to guide him. “Watch that rock on your left. Be careful of the tree stump on the right. Make sure you don’t step off the 50-foot drop.”

Guns and bullet holes are reminders of the war

We moved on to the town of El Cuco, San Miguel. The trip had been a whirlwind up to this point. Every day we were doing a tour or on the road, but arriving in El Cuco made us feel that we were finally on holiday. It was an idyllic town on the beach. I assume that due to the country’s reputation for crime and violence, there isn’t much tourism in El Salvador. This beautiful spot was pretty much void of tourists, which was great for us. We spent the next few days relaxing by the beach, playing cards, drinking beer, and forgetting about the problems of the world. It was here where I watched Arsenal vs Bournemouth. Arsenal 0-2 down as the title race was still very much on. Thomas Partey gave us a fighting chance on 62 minutes, Ben White equalised on 70 minutes, giving Raymond and I an anxious end of the game until the 97^th minute when Reiss Nelson pings on in the far corner. Ray and I erupted with joyous acclamation. It put smiles on our faces for the next week. I’ll always remember El Cuco for that moment.

Qinhuangdao, Hebei: The Old Dragon's Head

I’m getting through my bucket list of China in recent weeks! This time, Hannah and I were off to Qinhuangdao, which is about 300km from Beijing, or about 2 hours on the train. We left late on Friday after work and as soon as I got to the train station, I realised that I’d left my passport at home. It clearly isn’t ingrained in my mind that I need my passport when I travel in China as the government likes to keep track of your whereabouts at all times. That’s a totalitarian government for you! Anyway, I just had about enough time to Usain Bolt it to my apartment and make it back before the train departed. 

Qinhuangdao is relatively unknown but is situated in Hebei province and is pretty much only known for being the eastern starting location of The Great Wall of China. When Hannah asked what I wanted to do here but was surprised when I said that I wanted to go to the “Old Dragon’s Head” (the nickname for the end of the wall). “Why didn’t you tell me in advance?” she exclaimed. I thought she was taking the piss considering there’s pretty much fuck all else on the area’s Trip Advisor. 

We had to take a 20-minute train from Qinhuangdao to Shanhaiguan. We walked around the old town and looked at the exhibitions, which were far from exciting. One was a traditional Hebei home. It was bleak, dusty, and full of old shit. There are enough houses like that in Beijing that people still live in today, I don’t need to see it. 

We walked down to Lao Long Tou/Old Dragon’s Head and were blessed with blue skies. Karl Pilkington visited this part of the Wall when he filmed An Idiot Abroad. He wasn’t impressed, however it took him days, maybe even hours, to realise how dreadful China is. Why has it taken me so long? To be fair, this was one of the nicer weekends. We meandered down the beach and enjoyed the peace and quiet. Beijing is a beast of a city that one must escape from as often as they can and hopefully on a permanent basis. 

The First Pass Under Heaven is the gate which allowed access to the walled city.

It was time for lunch and Hannah was delighted to be at a coastal town with all the crustaceous delights on offer. The Chinese will eat anything that moves, and I’ve seen the weird shit they eat that inhabits the land so I can only imagine what freakishly bizarre foods they’d gobble down that they pull out of the sea. Hannah was delighted that she didn’t have to share while I ate some plan rice. 

We slept in late on Sunday and just enjoyed a day at the beach. There really isn’t much to this town, but it does have a pleasant beach. Although, I imagine it’s rammed in the summer and loses a lot of its charm. 

What is weird about this place is that there is a Russian town. The Russians flock here in the summer and the town is adorned with Russian architecture, restaurants, and even has a knock-off version of Saint Basil’s Cathedral (it is China after all!) I now had a choice between the weird Chinese seafood and borscht, I think I went hungry that afternoon. 

Despite it being a very quiet weekend with little to see and do, I had a thoroughly good time. The fact that we could relax and just walk along the beach on a peaceful, pollution-free day was enough. It made me forget about Beijing, work, university deadlines and gave me time to unwind. 

Cebu & Bohol, Philippines: Jumping in at the Deep End

I was on board my flight from Beijing to Hong Kong when I thought my ear drum was going to explode. Allow me to give you some context.

A few weeks prior to my flight I had noticed a significant drop in my audible ability. I had fluid in my ear canal and sought the advice of a doctor. They ran tests and put me on a course of anti-biotics, which ultimately did little.

My impaired hearing would have to wait as it was the end of the school semester and I was off to Southeast Asia for six weeks. I boarded my flight and as we ascened the pressure of the cabin started to play havock with my ear pressure. I tried yawning and moving my jaw up and down to ease the pressure, but I was moving my jaw so much I looked like I had a severe case of tourettes. Although, it would have been the perfect excuse to unleash a torrent of profanity. The pain was getting so intense that I thought my ear drum was going to burst like a boil on an arse. 

There was little I could do, but I was lucky enough to sleep through some of the trauma. I did however have a dream, not a profound one like Martin Luther King Jr., but instead a very mundane one. In my slumber I dreamt that I was partaking in a pub quiz with the round focused on football trivia. In my dream I was becoming more and more agitated as I wasn’t able to hear the questions clearly. You don’t need to be Sigmund Freud to analyse my dream; I think about football too much and my ears are buggered. 

As I wasn’t able to enjoy the quiz in my dream, so I will make up for it in this blog. There’ll be football trivia questions for you to enjoy with the answers at the end.

Question 1: Which nation won the gold medal in football at the 2012 Summer Olympics?

We landed in Hong Kong and once I disembarked the plane my ear pressure normalised. Unfortunately, I’d have to go through the trauma all over again on my connecting flight, and on 5 more flights over the next 6 weeks as I travel from the Philippines through Southern China, Thailand, and Laos.

Frank, a fellow Celtic and a bloody good bloke

When you picture the Philippies, what do you imagine? Pristine beaches? Palm trees? Well, we didn't get any of that. Donald Trump used a particular word to describe places such as Cebu City. It rained for the first 2 days, so we did what most Brits do when the weather is wet - drink. We were drinking in a shit seaside town where it was raining a lot, we might as well have holidayed in Morecambe. 

Despite the lack of sun, I was sunburnt, I had a dodgy stomach, I was half deaf, I was hungover, the weather was shit, we were staying in a dingy hostel, and the taxi driver from the airport to the hostel had ripped me off. But, you know me, even in the most trying of times I remain upbeat and never complain.

We finally got a break from the rain and scooted on down to Moalboal, a town famous for families of sardines, waterfalls, and beaches. We parked up at our hotel and the rain continued, we woke up in the morning and the rain continued some more. We did anything to pass the time and even went to get out hair cut. The fella who cut our hair had a huge wart on his face. I don't know how you can be in a room all day surrounded by mirrors and not notice it, when he does he'll be embarrassed. So far after 4 days, we'd been on this tropical paradise and all we'd achieved was some folical grooming. It's a long way to travel for a haircut.

Finally, the next day the sun came out. It was a bit windy, but after days of waiting we were like a couple of sun junkies looking for a hit from that sun pipe. We headed for the beach, placed our valuables inside our shoes so the thieves wouldn't be able to find them, and raced into the sea like a couple of excited school boys. We tried to relax, but the waves were too rough. We tried to frolic, but fighting the waves was too much exercise. As we looked to see how far the waves had taken us down the coast we noticed a dog urinating on our valuables. I shouted "piss on the coconuts, not my wallet!" but the mongrel didn't listen. I rinsed my t-shirt in the sea and rode my scooter back to the hotel exhausted, in a wet shirt that still had traces of dog piss on it. Another successful day.

Question 2: Which Spanish football team are nicknamed “The Turks”?

In the bar that evening we got talked into doing a canyoneering tour. It sounded adrenaline pumping and we decided we needed a bit of excitement after a slow start to the holiday. We were told to bring suitable shoes, but as we didn't have any they said we could rent some. I was expecting some aqua shoes, instead we received some knock-off Nike's with absolutely no grip. I've sent better quality trainers off to Africa before. And in consistent fashion of this trip, the already terrible souls came loose almost guaranteeing an ankle injury. 

We started off the tour with some easy waterfall drops, but they increasingly got bigger. 5m, 8m, and 10m, that might not seem so high but it's a different story when you're at the top looking down. Every ounce of your being tells you not to jump but you do it anyway because the Filipino lads are calling you a ladyboy. 

The final jump was 15m high and standing on a ledge only 20cm wide. The adrenaline kicks in, you give in to the peer pressure and jump. The decision to jump was made easier as there were a bunch of cute Korean girls in the pool below and I'd jump 15m into a snake pit if it meant getting close to some Korean girls.

After leaving Moalboal we scooted along to coast to Oslob, the home of the whale sharks. We had finally been blessed with some good weather and were making the most of each minute of it. We rose early the next morning for prime time whale shark diving. I'd already expressed my concerns to Frank about how I'm not too good with animals, but he said they're harmless and I'd be fine. I'd be the judge of that.

The boat pulled up and these huge 4-metre long sea monsters were below us. They've got long terrifying bodies like great whites, but gormless faces like Joey Essex. Their faces pop above the surface vacuuming up the fish guts the tour guides throw for them. I haven't seen gums on an animal like that since my mate, Jack Cassidy, told me to Google search 'granny gummers,' (do so at your own peril).

Despite their 'thick as shit' expressions, as soon as you enter the water with them my feeling of danger returned. I know they're harmless and won't attack humans, but whenever you hear the word 'shark' it signals danger. Whenever you see footage of sharks it's generally of man-eaters, so when you willingly get in the water, submerge yourself into their habitat and see a 4m long beast with fins and a tail I started to panic. I stayed close to the boat, but still they come at you from different angles. You turn around and are faced with two or three more. After a few minutes in the water, unjustly panicking, I realised that I'm not a marine biologist and got back on the boat. The thing is, if a stray dog comes near me on the beach I can just kick it up the arse and it'll leave me alone, but I don't even know where a whale shark's arse is, so it's best just to stay out of the water. 

Frank was a champ and was at home in the water, but to be fair I've seen some of the women he's dated so being in the company of whales is natural for him.

All it did was convince me that I'm never going cage diving in South Africa with great whites. Let the Japanese clear out the oceans for all I care. And while I'm at it, I'm ruling out scuba diving. You've got to take a week long course to get qualified to look at brightly coloured fish and things that freak me out? No chance. If I want bright colours and bad trips I'll just take some acid. If there's anything worth seeing in the ocean and they need my opinion on it then I'll get in a submarine. 

Question 3: Which player had the lowest minutes per goal in the 2018/19 Bundesliga season?

The weather was now on our side and we headed back to Cebu City. We returned the bikes and got the ferry over to Bohol, a neighbouring island. As dramatic as the first week was the following week was totally the opposite. We decided after being on the road for a week that a week of doing bugger all was in order.

Question 4: Who became the first Filipino player in the Premier League in August 2018?

I’d like to claim that the legs in this picturesque setting were mine, but they’re Frank’s. My legs are a combination of peeling skin from the previous sunburn, current sunburn and hair, which is why I haven’t been asked to do much modelling.  

We spent six days beachside but decided to venture out one day. Our first stop was to see the smallest primates on the planet, after Danny DeVito. They are the size of your fist and are found in a limited number of islands in the Philippines. Their eyes are bigger than their brains, much like the small-minded Katie Hopkins. If they get too stressed they commit suicide by holding their breath, something we hope Katie Hopkins does.

We travelled the best part of an hour and a half to the sanctuary, paid the entrance fee and were told they are only active at night. We walked around while the guide pointed to tiny creatures slept hiding in the leaves. It hardly seemed worth it. 

Question 5: Which is the oldest stadium that has been in continual use since 1855?

Next on the agenda, we scooted along to a bamboo bridge. Again, paid our entrance fee to essentially walk back and forth on a rickety old bridge. I shuffled along it while it creaked and swayed. Why do I do these things voluntarily? I got an ice cream as a reward for being brave, but then had to walk back along the unregulated bridge one-handed. Without doubt the least relaxing ice cream I’ve ever had.

The final attraction of the day were the relatively famous Chocolate Hills. Filipinos say the hills were formed when a heartbroken giant cried a lot of tears which led to the formation of these limestone hills, geologists say they were the result of erosion of limestones which were uplifted above sea level and fractured due to tectonic processes. I just don’t know which one to believe.

Quiz answers:

1. Mexico

2. Deportivo de La Coruña

3. Paco Alcácer

4. Neil Etheridge

5. Sheffield United's Bramall Lane

Alicante & Valencia, Spain: Suitcase and Car Troubles

To be honest, this is going to be a short one. It was my final stop on my Spring Festival holiday and I was joined by Karl, who had been on many adventures with me down the years.

We mainly chose these destinations as the cheapest flights we could get out of the UK at the time were to the south of Spain. With a quick check of the football fixtures, we were able to get to two football games over the weekend. With the exception of the fixtures, we left without much of a plan.

First stop was Alicante. The last time I had seen Karl was when we visited North Korea and I really didn't expect our next trip together to be to the seaside town full of British retirees.

The flight seemed no different than any other I had taken in my 29 years. I checked-in, handed over my checked luggage, made my way through security and immigration before boarding the plane. Karl and I weren't sitting near each other due to it being a short-haul cheap airline, so once on board, I put my earphones in and fell asleep. Once in the air, Karl tracked me down and asked if everything was alright with my case. I mean why wouldn't it be? The problem was that the airline had more cases than they had accounted for and were trying to track down the owners of the cases before departing. My name was announced on the tannoy and I was asked to identify my luggage, it's just that I missed all the drama as I was asleep. 

It turns out that as I hadn't claimed my luggage they had taken it off the aircraft. This was the second time in only a few weeks that my case hadn't arrived at my destination. I have never experienced such a balls up. How did they have extra cases? Why didn't they look up my seat number when looking for me? Why did they take my case off the plane when I'm sat on the bastard thing? 

Don't fly Ryanair.

In Alicante, we spent the day enjoying the sunshine. Karl's first idea was to head down the beach and dip our toes in the water. I wasn't too keen on this as I only had one pair of socks to my name and would have preferred not to have gotten them sandy, but life is for living, I suppose.

Afterwards, we headed up to the Castell de la Santa Bàrbara.

In the evening we made our way over to Elche to take in the first game of the weekend. Despite being a second division game there was still a good crowd of almost 10,000. The game finished 2-0 prevailing over the visitors, Extremadura UD. 

The following day we drove to Valencia. We parked up, dropped our bags off at the AirBnB, and sank beers as we made our way to the famous home stadium of Valencia CF, the Mestalla. 

It's a magnificent stadium which is so steep that it makes finding your seat fairly nerve-wracking.

In truth, the game wasn't the best. An eventless 0-0 draw, but a positive feeling can still be gained from the experience. 

We spent the rest of our time exploring the city and local bars.

When it was time to leave Valencia we encountered a problem. The trip was going far too well for Karl and I. Usually our trips are filled with mishaps which are often down to our own thoughtless behaviour. So far, we'd only had to contend with a missing case which arrived 24 hours late. Our latest problem was that the battery on the car was dead. We tried to call the SOS number for the rental company, but there was no answer. With a tight schedule and flights to catch there was little else we could do but bump start the car. Down the narrow back streets, Karl and I pushed the VW Golf. When we got it rolling Karl jumped in and I was left with the arduous task of getting up to an adequate speed. Karl lifted the clutch and we had power. Unfortunately, I didn't. That was the most exercise I'd done in about 2 months and was exhausted. 

And that was that. Austria, Macedonia, England and Spain all finished in a few weeks. I have a few days in Beijing to relax before starting work again, but those days will be filled with laundry, fighting jet-lag, and teacher training, so probably not all that relaxing.

Only 154 days until the summer holidays...

Malaysia: KL, Picturesque Beaches and Jellyfish

China can wear you down very easily, so this extended break over Chinese Spring Festival (Chinese New Year) was much needed. Our first of many destinations was to Langkawi, Malaysia. We arrived to stunning weather and shortly after arriving at our hostel were straight down the beach.

The island is idyllic, something you imagine to see on a post card. There are very few people there making it the ideal relaxation destination. We strolled along the pristine white beach of Pantai Cenang and forgot about all our worries. This lasted for about 10 minutes when I received a sharp, stabbing pain in my ankle. I looked down only to see a small jellyfish. I ran from the water in tremendous pain with my entire foot tingling. I had never been stung by a jellyfish before so wasn't sure how to treat the pain. My mind went to that episode of Friends when Monica gets a sting and Joey has to pee on it. I was tempted to ask Eunju to pee on my ankle, but I don't think we're at that stage of our relationship yet. And anyway, asking your girlfriend to do things like that just ends up with a fetish of golden showers and I don't need that mental trauma in my life.

I thought the best idea would be to Google how to treat such a sting. I hobbled down the beach a little further and found a bar. I ordered a pint and a plate of chips before asking for their WiFi password, it's rude otherwise. 

The first Google search returned a step-by-step method of what to do in such a painful event.

1. Tell an adult.
   This may have been a website for children, but the information was still relevant. I looked around and only saw Eunju and barmen who served an injured man alcohol, so I skipped this step.
2. Don't wash the sting with fresh water.
   I was on holiday, I had lager with no fresh water in sight.
3. Clean the sting with vinegar
   I had already ordered my chips, so the vinegar would go well on both. And I'm British so I smell of salt and vinegar most of the time anyway.
4. Advise someone to take you to the hospital if they notice the following symptoms:
   a) Struggling to drink - definitely not an issue as I'd seen away a pint by that stage
   b) Muscles twitching - I haven't got any to twitch in the first place
   c) A change in vocal tone - I have a Korean girlfriend, if I don't change my tone then we can't communicate
   d) Feeling nauseous - that could be the sting or the beers on the flight

It turned out that I didn't require to go to the hospital, vinegar did the trick and it worked for my ankle too. 

After some research, it turns out that there are large numbers of jellyfish in the waters surrounding Pantai Cenang. They can potentially paralyze or even kill people. I say just give them another 3% and make them water. 

We spent the rest of the evening relaxing and enjoyed the sunset. I realised that I was in a place so far removed from Beijing. I was on a sparsely populated beach, no one was spitting, the skies were clear and I had unlimited access to Google. After my jellyfish search I made sure to Google The Tiananmen Square Massacre of 1989 just because I could.

We spent the following few days scooting around the island and pretty much covered all the hot spots. Although, we never made it to Kok Beach despite Eunju's persuasions. 

Our few days on Langkawi were over too quickly and we make the short journey to the capital, Kuala Lumpur. We only allotted a short time here so we had a lot to pack in. Having just left Beijing the first place we headed to was Chinatown, mainly because that's where we were staying and secondly because we were missing that sound of someone hocking phlegm and the Beijing bikini.

We just had to try the southeast Asian delicace of durian. It's a fruit which is famous for its terrible smell but delicious taste. Eunju's face will tell you everything you need to know. It smells bad, and tastes worse.

We took in the sights of the city before finishing the evening at Heli Lounge Bar. This is probably the coolest bar I've ever been to. It's an operational heli pad at the top of the Menara KH building, but in the evening it becomes a rooftop bar serving drinks 34 floors up. We got a great view of the city and it rounded off our time in KL perfectly. I just wish I had a decent camera to capture that moment better.


Our week in Malaysia was over and we were making the short trip to Singapore. I was one of many British people to have left Malaysia, it's just I'm leaving this country with a little more dignity than my countrymen did in January 1942 when British forces retreated to Singapore after conceding defeat to the Japanese invasion. Eunju and I united and shared a moment to loathe the Japanese.