Anyone fancy a train ride?

I see some pretty good things in this part of the world in the months to come.

Pic from the nice folks at northborneorailway.com.my

In July, the North Borneo Railway will start running again from Kota Kinabalu to Papar in Malaysian Borneo. This railway dates from 1896, which means that we're talking steam trains here, so be prepared for a slow, relaxing ride if you're planning to take this train. The ride will take you through coastal towns, rice fields, rainforests and coffee plantations so there'll be lots to see. 

Those who enjoy long train rides might be a little disappointed to learn that it'll be a short journey - it's less than 40 kilometres between start to finish, so you'll actually arrive on the same day. The new timetable for the North Borneo isn't available yet but let's all hope that it'll be possible to break the journey to spend time in Papar and its surrounding areas before heading back to Kota Kinabalu.

Route map from northborneorailway.com.my

Information on the Sutera Harbour website (the resort manages the North Borneo Railway) is a little scanty and the site could do with more photographs but the info there looks interesting enough. Have a look at this link for more details of what to expect when the train is ready to start chugging again. 

I've always been a great fan of train journeys, especially extra-long, overnight ones. I've done all of New Zealand, Western Europe and parts of China by train, but as they say, it's never enough.

The ultimate, of course, would be the Trans-Mongolian Railway from Moscow to Beijing which I was ready to take in 2003 but didn't, because my partner had health issues and couldn't travel.

A little nearer to where I live, there's always the Indian Pacific from Perth to Sydney. Even closer to home is Southeast Asia by train, which is completely doable and should make for an incredible ride.

Updates on the North Borneo Railway will be posted here closer to July.

This week's photo- Laos

This photo makes me laugh every time I look at it:

This was taken somewhere in Laos, during a short hike about three hours from Luang Prabang. We had just stopped at a river to rest our feet when these boys came out from nowhere, laughing and shouting as they ran onto the bridge. The boy in blue had already taken off his clothes and was about to dive into the river when he noticed me. This is him looking embarrassed and putting his trousers back on again. That look on his face is just classic!

Motorcycle diary

I heard the motorbike rattling behind me before I actually saw it.

The sound got louder and louder, which meant that I was being followed. 

Soon the bike caught up with me and appeared by my side.

"Hello," said the man on the noisy bike. "Where are you going today?"

Just walking, I told him.

"You want to go to the landmine museum?"

I stared at him. I couldn't believe it.

"You know where it is?" I asked.

"Yes, I know, of course. I bring you there, on my bike," he said.

I'd been thinking about going to the Aki Rai Landmine Museum before I even left home.  

And on my last day in Siem Reap, this guy turns up on a motorbike and offers to take me there?  This was something I couldn’t ignore.

"Yes, I want to go to the landmine museum," I said.

 But first things first, I thought. "Can you wait? I want to have my breakfast before I go, over there," I said, pointing to the Famous Angkor Cafe.

 "Of course. I wait for you."

 I watched him as I sipped my coffee.

 He was waiting a few doors away, checking his teeth every so often. I watched him grin, smirk and growl at the little round mirror on his bike. He looked harmless enough.

 That was how it started, my motorbike ride with a complete stranger in Cambodia.

 He was 29 and his name was Ta.

 "The museum is not far, I know a quick road there."

 Off we went on his motorbike, rattling merrily into the distance.

 I was interested in this particular landmine museum because it was set up by a former Khmer Rouge soldier called Aki Rai. In the 1970s, Rai used to install landmines for Pol Pot, the man who orchestrated the deaths of millions of Cambodians.

 Now, however, Rai is a transformed man. Deeply regretful of his past misdeeds, or so says the literature on the museum, he now educates the public and helps to defuse the very same landmines he planted, which still lie in scores in the Cambodian countryside. 

 The ride on Ta's bike was a long one. This was March, the height of the dry season. The sun burned my face and the back of my neck until it hurt.

 "You always do this? Take people on your motorbike?" I asked Ta as I held onto his shirt, my hair flying in the wind.

 "Sometimes. I need to make money. To marry my girlfriend," he turned briefly, flashing me a quick smile.

 "That's nice. When?"

 "Maybe next year."

 We passed village after village, all identical, with identical children and identical old ladies walking by the roadside, carrying mysterious bundles on their heads.

 "How long more?" I yelled. His bike was really noisy now.

 "Not long, you wait," Ta shouted back.

There were buffaloes in rice fields on both sides of the road. I smelt their dung drying in the heat and saw their thick fat tails swapping flies away.

Finally, we stopped at a white building. Ta got down and spoke to a man near the entrance. All I understood was,"Aki  Rai, Aki Rai." Would I ever get to meet the man himself?

Ta came back with a frustrated look on his face.

 "I'm sorry. This is the museum, but it's not really open today," he told me.

 What do you mean? I asked. The gate is open, right?

 Ta sighed. "No, it's open but not for everyone to see. It's not ready."

 I wasn't satisfied and didn't completely understand what he said, so I walked into the building. 

There were exhibits all right- warheads, old landmines and posters with gruesome photographs- but not all of them were up.

 The museum had just relocated to a new site so it wasn't fully complete.

 Neither was Rai there, so my dream of meeting a real-life former Khmer Rouge officer never materialised.

 "Not open yet. I'm sorry, I disappoint you," Ta said, shrugging apologetically.

 "No, that's okay," I said. "It was a nice ride. It was nice of you to bring me here."

 My eyes searched the road beyond the museum grounds. Nothing, really. Just a few huts nearby, with children playing.

 Then I remembered seeing a few shops along the way.

 "You want some iced coffee?" I asked and Ta's face lit up.

 "Of course. I bring you there," he smiled.

This week's photo- Bali

Rice terraces, Bali

What makes a good travel companion?

Sunset over the Mekong, Laos

Ask me which I prefer between solo or group travel 50 years down the line, and I guarantee that I will lift my withered, sagging arms with whatever strength I have left and croak, "Go solo!" as loud as I can.

Travelling with others is fun, but there's nothing quite like waking up and deciding where you want to go, whenever you like. There's no need to wait for the shower or for anyone else to wake up. Even enjoying a sunset by yourself can be magical.

Venice Beach, USA

Having said that, some of my best memories are of the times I travelled with friends. Suddenly, I had people to speak to and laugh and have meals with. I no longer had to ask strangers to take my photograph just to prove to the people at home that for crying out loud, yes, I was there and did see that damn mountain.

Group travel also has its practical benefits: you get to divide your costs, distribute baggage weight if necessary and in many instances, it's also much safer.

Once you've decided that you're going to travel with someone, the next big question is of course, who's it going to be. I'm very selective on whom I invite on a trip. That may sound obnoxious and selfish, but if I'm going to spend money on a plane ticket and accommodation, I want to make sure that I don't end up being miserable with a travel companion from hell.

So what makes a good travel mate? It's not an easy question to answer, but I know who won't make a good travel companion.

Compatibility
The thing about a good travel partner is that quite simply, both of you just have to be compatible. He or she doesn't have to be your BFF or that best friend you've known for 20 years. All that's needed is that both of you respect each other and are considerate. I once booked (what was supposed to be) a one-month InterRail trip in Europe with someone whom I thought was my best friend until she suddenly took over and insisted on making all the decisions from which route to take to which hostels to stay at. The last straw was when, two weeks into the trip, she sheepishly told me that she only had £10 in her pocket and couldn't go on any further. She didn't admit it, but I knew that she'd blown all her cash on unnecessary and expensive souvenirs. We're talking about a watch from Geneva and t-shirts from every single city we stopped at. And how much did I have left? Ten times what she had: £100. Being students, none of us had credit cards- we brought only cash and travellers cheques, so what else could we do but to return to the UK. She's still a friend on Facebook, but we don't have much to talk about anymore.

Does he like how you travel?
If you've never liked someone to begin with, chances are you're still not going to like him if you travel with him. Likewise, if someone rants about how he abhors street traders and beggars, that should serve as a warning sign that he probably can't go to countries with issues like poverty or homelessness. A few years ago, I let slip to someone that I was planning to go to Tibet via the Beijing-Lhasa Express, a journey that would take 48 hours by train. She immediately perked up and said she was interested in following me, a statement which puzzles me to this day. Just a few weeks earlier, she had complained of being 'harassed' by vendors and taxi drivers in Bali, a place I love dearly and would fly to at the drop of a hat. If someone cannot handle vendors in Bali, there is no way he or she can deal with two days of train travel, sub-zero temperatures and altitude sickness on the Tibetan Plateau. Your mission would be to find another person who can.

Don't stand so close to me
I'm a firm believer of the idea that even though you might travel with someone, you don't have to be with that person 24/7 unless that's how you want it. Out of the numerous trips I've taken over the past 11 years, four of them were with friends. I enjoyed their company, but I would always yearn to be alone after a few days. In order to successfully breakaway from your travel partner for a few hours every day, you need someone who will allow you to do so. In other words, both of you must be independent souls to begin with. Having to deal with a travel mate who is clingy and insists on doing everything together, every single day, can spoil the rest of the trip. To prevent this from happening, look for someone who appreciates your need for some alone time, or whatever it is that you want out of the trip.

Or you could simply choose not to deal with any of these issues and go by yourself.

This week's photo - St Basil's Cathedral, Moscow

Taken on a crisp, clear day in October 2007.  

Gaudy? Colours too bright? Perhaps- but it made me smile every time I walked past it

Cambodia

Some photos I took around Angkor Wat, Angkor Thom and Bayon a few years back:

and finally: