Istanbul - 1,551 Miles From Home

I’ve put the Indian nightmare behind me and finally completed my 16-month tour with the last stop was in Istanbul. The past 4 weeks have varied in experience from one extreme to the other, but the food has been exceptional throughout. Most recently I’ve traded in Chinese and Indian food for liberal helpings of Turkish kebabs. I need to invest in a workout DVD, maybe I’ll get Jade Goody’s as we both dislike Indians.

I really enjoyed my time in Istanbul. It’s a beautiful, clean city that has a lot of history. I was very sceptical of the people, but they have turned out to be very kind and welcoming*.

The Hagia Sophia Museum (formerly a mosque)

The Grand Bazaar

A highlight was taking a cruise down the Bosphorus, the body of water that separates the Istanbul and the continents of Europe and Asia, a must do if you’re ever here. About halfway into the cruise we moored and explored The Fortress of Rumeli, learning about some of the history of the Ottoman Empire.

The Fortress of Rumeli

An experience that I was persuaded into was going to a Turkish bathhouse. I was expecting something similar to the jjimjjilbang of Korea (a nude spa). I went with my dad; we stripped down, donned a towel and made our way to the sauna. It was very quiet in there and we enjoyed the freedom of the sauna before being summoned for our body scrubs. I walked through to a separate room, removed my towel only to see that the other men getting scrubbed were wearing swimming shorts. I exposed myself to many Turkish men. The towel went back on and the scrubbing commenced. Much like the jjimjjilbang experience they take the dead skin off you with a Brillo pad. After the scrub they give you a "massage". I think I got the massager who was racist toward English people because this was less of a massage and more of a battering. He kicked the shit out of me and I paid for the ordeal. He twisted me like a pretzel, and pressed me into the stone bed that I was lying on. The Turkish bath is a painful experience.

Combined with the Korean spa, I’ve been rubbed down by more men in the past month than I was hoping to in my entire life.

Turkey has left me with two regrets, the first is not being able to take in a football match. Unfortunately I have been here during the international break, and even Turkey was playing their 2 games away from home. The second is that I didn’t get a chance to head to the Syrian border and check out what those IS lads are up to. I suppose I have a couple of reasons to come back.

The view of Europe from the Bosphorus

Back to England tomorrow, I think I’ll be the most excited person on the plane back to London Luton. 

* I must disclose that despite my pleasant encounters with Turkish people, they still have a poor human rights record, hence why they are not in the EU, and that they invaded and occupy Cyprus. I must apologise to the Greek Cypriots that might be reading this; I’m sorry for enjoying Turkey and for “pumping money into their economy”.

Delhi & Agra: 6,707 Miles From Home - Do NOT Go To India

I’m meant to be heading home west, but I took a stop 720 miles north-east in New Delhi.

For this blog, I’ll start with the highlights. The first being that after 15 months I was reunited with my old man. It was great to catch up on lost time, and I was certainly welcome for the company after the week, or so, on my own in Mumbai.

478 days apart

The second highlight didn’t even come in Delhi, it was during our voyage to Agra. Agra is the home to one of the wonders of the world – The Taj Mahal. A trip to India isn’t complete without visiting India’s most famous landmark. The building is of Islamic design and is a tomb for Moghal Emperor Shah Jahan’s third wife (that’s a symbolic kick in the ovaries for the other two). We had a tour guide take us around the complex, he explained a few things about the structure and the other surrounding buildings (all of which I’ve forgotten now). He was very annoying, and described himself as “complimentary” until the end of the tour when conveniently he had a fee. We begrudgingly paid the £12 until we found out that he had actually helped us skip 3 hours of queues, his service and the £12 seemed justifiable then. 

A few others included going to the Akshardham Temple, a Hindu temple complex. Vast in size, and intricate in design. Also, Humayun’s Tomb, a nice area, but in actuality I have no idea who Humayun was, and still don’t know which one of the thirteen graves was his. After 2 weeks in India my interest in temples, tombs, and forts was wearing thin, so maybe I’m not doing them the justice they deserve. And that rounds off the highlights in Delhi.

Humayun's Tomb

The Red Fort

I’d like to call out both Ed Lloyd and Joel Stone, two “friends” who offered advice on India, both on what to do and what to expect. Neither of which actually told me not to go. So, allow me to offer advice on what India is really like.

It is a shit hole. If you’ve ever heard anyone describe India as a “beautiful country” they are lying to you, and it’s more than likely that they’ve lied to you about other things in the past. You should consider unfriending them on Facebook. There are faeces everywhere, some animal, some human. Most countries have a designated landfill site - not India. The streets act as the landfill, a dumping ground for any waste, and when the build-up of waste is higher than average they just burn it. In the street. Next to homeless, sleeping children.

The people steal more than Scousers, they lie more than politicians, and their personal hygiene and habits have left me with more psychological scars than 2 Girls 1 Cup ever did.

You will get diarrhoea. No matter how careful you are, how much hand sanitizer you use, or how trustworthy a restaurant looks, you will get the shits. I lasted about 9 days before I was affected, I think I set a new Guinness World Record.

Delhi is the worst city I have ever been to, India is the worst country I have ever been to, and the Indian people (the ones that I encountered anyway) are the worst people in the world. At one stage I was seriously considering seeking asylum in neighbouring Pakistan, or Afghanistan.

If this blog achieves anything I hope that it discourages anyone from ever visiting India. Sure, you can go online and read a blog by some overly optimistic traveller who went to India to “find themselves”, and  describe how they had such an amazing spiritual journey, but these are the opinions of hippies. As Eric Cartman once put it: “Hippies. They’re everywhere. They want to save the earth, but all they do is smoke weed and smell bad”. You can’t argue with that. This is a blog that speaks the truth.

If you have read this far and you’re still considering going then maybe all is lost for you. Maybe your motivation is a religious retreat? I recommend reading Richard Dawkin’s The God Delusion. That book should put pay to any religious yearning you many have. Maybe your motivation is a spiritual experience? Go down the pub and have relaxing a beer.

I have written this for your benefit. Do not let the (good) pictures fool you, I'm an amazing photographer. It is a country that I wish never to return.

Mumbai - 7,187 Miles from Home

OK, so I recently read back my last blog post about Hong Kong and Macao and I noticed numerous grammar mistakes. My excuse is that I wrote it while at the bar in Hong Kong airport waiting for my flight. Regardless, I will try my super harderest to minimise the grammar mistakes this time round.

I arrived in Mumbai in the early hours of the 12^th. The taxi took me to my hotel and the first thing I encountered was the poverty in India. There are quite literally thousands of people sleeping in the streets, so many in fact that the pavements are full and people sleep in the roads and the cars drive around them.

The daylight dawned and I got my first real glimpse of India. It’s insanity here. The first thing that I was really aware of is the never-ending threat of disease. When I walk down the street I’m consciously thinking about avoiding the stray dogs that carry rabies, the dirty puddles with cholera, the mosquitoes with malaria, and the people with every form of hepatitis.

If you manage to avoid those threats you then put your life on a knife-edge when you get inside a taxi in India. The taxis are about 50 years old, they are old tin buckets on wheels. I’ve been sat inside them thinking that if this taxi is in a minor collision then I will definitely die. And of course, there are no seat belts. If the thought of dying in a sardine tin wasn’t terrifying enough then the way they drive will provoke a heart-attack. They have mirrors, but you wouldn’t think so. They pull out in traffic whether there’s a space or not, and drive by sound. The drivers listen for other’s horns. A taxi journey in India is up there with skydiving.

As I walk around the streets of Mumbai I realise that I stick out like a saw thumb. Sometimes when you’re out and about you might be in a bad neighbourhood and you might think to yourself ‘I wouldn’t like to take a wrong turn in this part of town’. Well, that’s not possible in Mumbai because every area is the wrong part of town.

A few days in I took a boat trip out to Elephanta Island, the boat trip was relaxing, out on the Arabian Sea, away from the death-trap taxis, and the noise. However, when on the island I found out that it’s inhabited by aggressive, thieving monkeys. There’s no rest from it! I’m now avoiding stray dogs, mosquitoes, goats, cows, chickens, dirty water, and now monkeys with only a selfie-stick to defend myself with.

The sightseeing has been fun despite the unbearable heat and the unstoppable sweating. I’ve been to; The Gateway of India, Chowpatty Beach, Shree Siddhivinayak Hindu Temple, the Haji Ali Daragah (an island mosque), and the Sanjay Ghandi National Park.

The famous Gateway of India

The Haji Ali Dargah Mosque and part of the Mumbai skyline

The most interesting tale comes from when I tried to go to the Vipassana Pagoda in the northern reaches of Mumbai. I asked the hotel staff how to get there and they said that a taxi would be too expensive (£8) and that I should opt for the train (£0.15), so I did.

At the train station, the man who issued my ticket explained the route that I needed to take. The only problem was that he had one of the strongest Indian accents I’ve ever come across. Being the polite Brit I asked him to repeat the instructions, but again I didn’t understand. So, I went on my way without a clue how to get there (and the only maps available were in Hindi). All I gathered was platform 3, something in a broad Indian accent, Borivali Station (my destination).

The trains are exactly how you’ve seen them on TV and film. The doors are wide open, no concern for safety, and people hanging on for dear life.

It was a slow train, and stop after I was hoping to see Borivali Station. I waited but it never came. Before I knew it, it was the end of the line and I had no idea where I was.

And this is where I ended up...

I went up to the ticket counter and asked how to get to Borivali. He ignored my distress and issued me another ticket (this time 20p – robbing bastards). Well, back on the train I suppose. This time it’s packed and I’m in second class. I trust no one. I wear my bag on my chest and my hand stays firmly on my camera. It’s ridiculously hot, I’m the only white person in the carriage, I feel unsafe, and I’m clueless to where I’m actually going. So I think “fuck it, let’s get a taxi”. At that particular moment I wouldn’t have minded paying £9 for a taxi, I just wanted to get off. I got off at the next station (wherever that was) and ask a taxi driver to go to the Vipassana Pagoda, but he’s never heard of it. I’m so lost, so far from Mumbai that even the taxi drivers couldn't help me. On that day, all I knew was that I was in India, it was a pretty scary thought. Well, back on the train I suppose.

Back on the heaving, smelly, grotty train (can you tell that the novelty wore off pretty quickly?), and a kind, softly spoken man helped me. He told me to get off at a station called Dadar and change lines. Thank you, random softly spoken Indian man. I get to Dadar and there are about 8 lines. I went to the ticket queue and ask which line I need. Unfortunately, I’m still too far from the international part of Mumbai and no one understands me, and my Hindi hasn’t improved since the last encounter. With my possessions still intact, I opt to cut my losses and head back to Mumbai.

The next day I tried again and managed to get there, and what a sight it was.

The view of the Global Vipassana Pagoda from the water.

India is a crazy, trying place. It’s certainly not a relaxing holiday destination. I think I would have been bothered by it a lot more had I not been eating delicious curries for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. My Indian journey doesn't end here. Next stop - Delhi.

Hong Kong & Macao - 9,621 Miles from Home

The next stop on my journey home was to Hong Kong.

Hong Kong has been a city that I’ve wanted to visit for a long time, and I got round to it this week. One of the first things I did there was go to the Hong Kong Museum of History. I knew nothing about Hong Kong other than it was part of the British Empire at some stage in the past. As to be expected, Britain invaded the land despite being greatly outnumbered (100,000 to 20,000) by the Chinese. The shy numbers didn’t stop the Brits claiming the land, and even made the Chinese pay compensation to the British for the loss of naval soldiers during the invasion. I felt some pride that a small island nation could take on the world and win, but you also realise that maybe we weren’t the most liked around that time.

The British influence lasts till this day. There are 34,000 British expats in Hong Kong and going for a few beers on Saturday night in Lan Kwai Fong made me feel like I was home. It even felt like Magaluf (another British territory), it wouldn’t have been out of place to have those annoying reps approaching you. “Alright, lads? Where are you going tonight? $5 for a cocktail, a shot of Sambuca, and a Jaegerbomb”. The only thing different was the price - £7 for a pint. £7! So Karl and I eventually found a quaint little place called "7-Eleven", and we were drinking a local tipple called "cans of Stella".

After being in Asia for so long, many people have an image of a stereotypical British man. Hugh Grant and Benedict Cumberbatch have done us all a favour, but in reality the Brits in Hong Kong are letting us down. They’re less like Hugh Grant and more like Grant Mitchell.

We did some touristy stuff. We went to Lantau Island, Victoria Peak, crossed the bay on the Star Ferry, went to Nan Lian Garden, and even took in a football game.

Nan Lian Garden

Lantau Island

A junk boat on Victoria Harbour

The view from the top of Victoria Peak

Despite the moaning Hong Kong has become one of my favourite cities.

Macao, on the other hand, is billed as “the Vegas of Asia” so I had high hopes. It was once occupied by the Portuguese so it has a different European vibe than Hong Kong. We did some sightseeing before dark and the Fortaleza do Monte is mediocre. When on top of the fort you can see the “real” Macao that isn’t luxurious hotels and casinos. The majority of Macao is actually pretty dire. Another “must see” of Macao is the ruins of St. Paul’s Church. I thought this was a bit of a con, when the majority of the city is in ruins the church becomes less special.

We headed to the Cotai Strip (the good bit) and it does have some resemblance to Las Vegas. Huge hotels, luxurious shopping malls, and the like, but it’s not the same. I’m not a serious gambler, so when I went to Vegas I made sure that the value I was gambling was less than I was getting in complimentary whisky. In Macao everyone’s a serious gambler. There are no free drinks, terrible mid-week nightlife, mostly high stakes gambling, and no assistance. I put some money down on the tables, but it was a waste. I was out of cash after about three spins of roulette. My gambling experience in Macao didn’t even last as long as my first sexual experience. At least with my first sexual experience I left with a smile on my face and some change in my pocket.

Drinking in The Venetian

The Cotai Strip of Macao

So is Macao the Vegas of Asia? No way. It’s not even the Blackpool of Asia. 

Taiwan - 9,779 Miles from Home

Karl and I have started our journey back to the UK with a stop in Taipei, Taiwan. It was my first of six flights with Asian airlines, and luckily I made it without disappearing or any attacks from Russian/Ukrainian missiles. Wish me luck for the rest of them.

We are only here for a few days, just enough time to take in the city. The weather started off good, but soon changed to overcast and intermittent light rain. It’s not ideal, but we’re Brits abroad so regardless of the weather we persisted with shorts, football shirts, and flip-flops.

The view from the Chiang Kai-shek Memorial Hall of the National Concert Hall and the National Theatre. 

The food in Taiwan is great. I didn’t have a bad meal the whole time I was here. One downside to being in a new land is the lack of communication. It may surprise you, but I can’t speak Taiwanese Hokkien, and Karl isn’t much help either. Karl is hardly understood outside of Nottinghamshire. When ordering food I had no idea what I was ordering most of the time. I’d point at pictures and feel like an utter mong. There is an upside to not knowing and it’s that you can’t prejudge the food, there is a chance that I ate a chicken’s anus whilst here but I’ll never know. It tasted delicious and that was good enough for me. Ignorance is bliss.

We went to a few temples; the most famous one in Taipei, Longshan Temple, and a quieter one, Bao’an Temple. They are truly amazing to look at, the design, the finer details - it’s all truly beautiful.

Longshan Temple

Bao'an Temple

We visited the National Palace Museum. ­­­­There are artefacts in the museum are literally from thousands of years ago, but it’s stuff that I just can’t get excited about. Early Chinese books and scriptures, but I can’t read Chinese so it doesn’t really matter how old the book is. Maybe I’m just not an appreciator of Chinese culture. If you’re not into it, you’re not into it. I wish I could be more like Wayne Rooney, he’s a real appreciator of ancient things. My verdict is go to the museum if it’s raining.

The Entrance of the National Palace Museum

A highlight was going to Taipei 101. It’s the 4^th largest building in the world. It seems that only Taipei and Arsenal use 4^th place as an achievement.

Taipei 101 and the only bit of sunshine we had on the trip.

On a final note, the night markets are good, and the beer is adequate. And that pretty much wraps up Taipei. It’s a shame that we weren’t able to take in a day trip or two to see more of Taiwan, but there’s always next time.

Had the City on Lockdown: Closing Thoughts on Korea

My time in Korea has finally concluded. I am setting off on my next adventure which will take me from Seoul to Taipei, Hong Kong, Macau, Mumbai, New Delhi, and Istanbul before a long awaited return to England. Korea has been filled with many new experiences, and good memories, but I thought I’d collate some of the things I will and won’t miss about the Land of the Morning Calm.

Things I Won’t Miss About Korea

1. The Unbearably Hot Summers – Temperatures soar to 40°C in the height of the summer, and added to this blazing heat is 90% humidity. Forget having an ice-cold cider in a pub garden, I’m sweating in my undies standing underneath my air-conditioner.
2. The Unbearably Cold Winters – You’d think that the tropical summer climate would even out to hospitable winters. Wrong! The temperature drops to -20°C. It gets that cold that the hookers on The Hill charge ₩20,000 just to blow your hands.
3. The Food – I’m not talking about Korean food, some of that stuff’s good. I’m talking about foreign food made by Koreans. It costs 3 times as much, and tastes half as good. There’s a reason why the Italians never put sweet potato on a pizza, and the Mexicans haven’t put fermented cabbage in tacos, they do not belong. Stop Korean fusion, please.
4. American English – When learning English as a second language it’s completely reasonable to prefer one dialect to another. But just because I don’t pronounce my R’s like some hillbilly pirate doesn’t mean I’m wrong.
5. The Inability to Queue – The concept of ‘first come, first served’ is foreign to Koreans. The number of times I have been standing in a queue, waiting patiently to be served (like a good Brit should) and an elderly person has cut the line is untold. Rules don’t apply to older people in Korea because they are to be respected. I tried to learn “Oi, coffin dodger! Get to the back of the queue!” in Korean, but I don’t think it translates.
6. Manners and Courtesy – I’m not asking much, just some acknowledgment that I stopped a door from slamming in your face. Or that when I’m standing next to you on the subway platform that you don’t cough up a throatful of phlegm.

It’s not all negative; there are some things I will miss!

Things I Will Miss About Korea

1. The Cost of Living - Everyday essentials are just cheaper here than back home. A pint of beer costs less than £2, and a journey on the subway costs around £0.60. You can save a lot of money over the year from the reduced living expense, which you can then spend on more beer.
2. The Women - Going back to England I will be going cold turkey. Asian women are like a drug, giving up heroin would be easier. I'm heading home to a land of white women. Who wants them? I mean, apart from other white guys, black guys, Asian guys, and lesbians...I suppose anyone without an Asian fetish.
3. Honesty - Korea is by far the most honest country I have visited. I experienced no threat from Koreans, they are too honest to deceive and steal. In fact, the dodgiest people in Korea are the foreigners. It will take me a while to adjust back to not trusting people.
4. Being Different - I'm a Daily Mail nightmare. I'm a liberal, foreign immigrant, that doesn't speak the local language, and muslim. OK, that last one isn't true, but the rest are. Foreigners are treated well in Korea, I'm treated as a commodity here. Locals want to talk to me and be my friend, whereas in the UK I'm just another emotionally repressed, moaning, overly polite, pessimistic Brit. Although, I like being that too.
5. The Internet Speed - According to some reports, South Korea has the world's fastest average download speed. There's nothing more infuriating than a slow internet connection. Did you know that 57% of domestic abuse in the UK happened as a result of slow internet connections? OK, I made that statistic up, but it's believable, isn't it? Despite having the luxury of the world's fastest download speed adult content is illegal in Korea. So it's very much a win-lose situation.
6. FFs - It's a quaint club in Hongdae, Seoul. We go there every Saturday and it's a fun place, but it's full of loose women. My own problem with that is venereal disease, which is disabilitating, especially for a soldier. And it's irresponsible to the rest of your unit as well, right. You've been under attack for days, there's a soldier down, he's wounded, gangrene's setting in, 'who's used all the penicillin?' 'Oh, Karl Egan sir, he's got knobrot off some tart'
7. Teaching - It was a job that I had never tried before and never really saw myself doing, but I'm glad I tried it. For the most part it was a great experience, teaching adults is a joy, and the kids are a lot of fun. Sure, you have days with the kids when you start to justify child abuse, but that's part of the challenge. If you're considering teaching abroad you should.
8. The People - I met some great new friends, and some average ones too. Who knows if I'll see them again, but they made my Korean journey all the more fun.

The original gang who helped me settle quickly in Korea.

Fried Chicken Fridays (minus Johnny, I couldn't find one of us all together!)

The South Africans from down south

Two more Saffas.

The Korea Burn Gang

My mong partner in crime

A few of the little bastards