Extra post!

This was something I contributed to a local fish forum (Petfrd.com):

___________

Hi all

as requested by Cloud79, i thought i'd post some pics taken (throughout Europe) during my 1.5 years working in Norway.

I did read a thread in another forum before, about how some of us fish forummers had gotten so deep into our hobby we would always look into a body of water (puddle, canal, lake, pond etc) for fishes, and realised i had "developed" into one of those guys... Even as my passion for the hobby died down a couple of years ago, subconsciously i still did this peering into lakes and canals, and even bothered to snap a few pictures of the life present.

As such, instead of boring you guys with pics of great landscapes, i scoured my collection of pictures and found those "fish-related" ones. Unfortunately not all of them belong to live fish, I thought it'd be nice to show how people in different parts of the world love their fishes.

enjoy!


Trout eye in aquarium around Hardanger, Norway


Dried fish head, Nusford, Lofoten Islands, Norway


Fish drying for export, Lofoten Islands, Norway


Christmas cod and sei, caught in Tofte, Norway


Fish in lake, around 7deg Celsius, Otta, Norway


Fish found in Polarium, an arctic aquarium, Tromso, Norway


Fish found in Polarium, an arctic aquarium, Tromso, Norway


Fish in a stream close to Rheinfall, Switzerland


Fish market in Fethiye, Turkey.
Just buy your fish, and have it grilled at a next-door restaurant.nice!


Fishes feeding on bread in Bohinj, Slovenia


Pile of fishes found along the coastal town of Nida, Lithuania


Finally, how the Dutch love it... herring, Schiphol airport, Netherlands

cheers!

ben

Have fate will meet...

Well, if one is not amazed at how I met Jamie (see earlier post about meeting people) in both Granada and Toledo (well, both are still Spanish cities) randomly, hopefully this post impresses.

I met an Australian backpacker in Selcuk, Turkey on 11 May 2009 on a bus ride. We spoke a couple of hours and she alighted at some place I don't remember.

Fast forward 48 days later, 1590km away, and I meet this same lady in my hostel (Hostel99, see previous post) in Cesky Krumlov, Czech Republic!

And no, I did not know her travel schedule, we did not keep in touch subsequent to Selcuk... it was just one of those "hey, I've seen you somewhere before" moments.

Totally random, totally cool!

The Kama Sutra room

Location: Hostel99, Cesky Krumlov, Czech Republic
Date: 27-28 June 2009

Hostel99 is a really cool hostel! Built out of an old Czech house, with great atmosphere, free wi-fi, a bar and bakery, rooms with names instead of numbers, and a large dvd collection to boot. But what really made my stay memorable was their Kama Sutra room.

So here's the story:

I was asking the receptionist where to get a towel, and he blabbered that the towels were in a cabinet around the corner. I was not really paying attention to the receptionist's specific directions, and entered the first room around the corner, thinking the cabinet would be inside. There was no cabinet in sight, but what I did see was a couple on the bed, stark naked, without sheets, copulating....

My natural response - "Oh F#*k, Sorry!" and I shut the door. I looked up at the door, and the room name read- Kama Sutra.

And of course the cabinet storing the towels was just outside the room.

Pub by the flooded river

I actually did clarify that the Kama Sutra room was a regular double room available for rent, and not a communal room for copulation.

Lesson learnt: Unless you're fine with strangers walking in, lock the door.

Afterthought: Just thought of the movie "Hostel". Maybe I was supposed to stay in the room, and get invited for some decadence... oh well...

How I lost my camera

I was at an internet cafe in Sarajevo, Bosnia on 20 June'09, to use up my last 15 minutes of credit. I had been there earlier in the morning and used up my first 45 minutes of internet time.

Where I lost my camera

The guy at the cafe told me the internet was not working due to the rain. This was not surprising, as my host had also told me the same thing the night before. I was just about to leave when I heard the sound of Winning Eleven being played on the PlayStation 3 upstairs, so I thought I'd join the people upstairs for a game whilst waiting for the internet to come up again, since I had done my sightseeing already, and I was also hoping to see how good Bosnian kids were at the game.
On the second level of the internet cafe were 3 kids playing. They were not really kids actually, more like 16-18 years old, dressed like any teenager would. They charged me EUR1 to play a game with them, to which I thought whatever.. and just joined in the fun.

War roses - mortar scars commemorating the mortar shell victims

I placed my camera (in its bag) and bag on the same counter as the TV. It was 2m away from me, 45 deg to my left and within view. Like this:

As the game went on, 1 kid came from the left and asked me questions about where I was staying etc, distracting me from the game, and focus from my camera, whilethe 3rd kid SWAPPED my camera for an old antique soviet camera AND a rock.

After the game (which I lost to a dubious penalty), I asked for a rematch which the kids agreed to, for free. But within 2 minutes of the rematch, they suddenly said they had to rush off and ran down the stairs.After another 2 min I thought it was strange to leave their cigarettes behind, so i did a check on my camera bag, and noted the swap had been done.

The kids had obviously gone by then.

SUCKY...

My host family, who did everything they could to console me

What I lost:

• damn decent camera
• Trust in foreign children

Lessons learnt:

• Locals always blame the gypsies
• Bad locals exist (I believe the kids were not gypsies)
• It is wise to back up your photos every couple of days
• When on holiday, take life easy. I felt much better the following day and carried on my travels
• You cannot outswit/understand organised crime alone
• The soviet camera is not worth more than SGD30

Berlin - There's just NO alternative!

I had heard so much about the alternative culture (and the kebabs) in Berlin, and hence I gave myself 5 days, the longest time I set aside for one city, to explore and immerse within. It was totally worth it! I made good use of my time there, seeing the famous/notorious tourist spots, joining a couple of "alternative" walking tours, staying at a hostel, couchsurfing and checking out museums, but the most memorable activity I took part in was meeting a bunch of couchsurfers to catch the sunrise at Teufelsberg.

Teufelsberg

Info extracted from wikipedia

The Teufelsberg (German for Devil's Mountain) is a hill in Berlin, Germany, in former West Berlin. It rises about 80 meters above the surrounding Brandenburg plain.It is an artificial hill with a curious history: it was built by the Allies after the Second World War from the rubble of Berlin during the following twenty years as the city was rebuilt. One estimate for the amount of rubble is about 12 million cubic meters, or about 400,000 buildings. It is higher than the highest natural hill (the Kreuzberg) in the Berlin area.The curiousness begins with what is buried underneath the hill: a Nazi military-technical college designed by Albert Speer. The Allies tried using explosives to demolish the school, but it was so sturdy that covering it with debris turned out to be easier.

The US National Security Agency (NSA) built one of its largest listening stations on top of the hill, rumoured to be part of the global ECHELON intelligence gathering network. The station continued to operate until the fall of East Germany and the Berlin Wall, but after that the station was closed and the equipment removed. The buildings and radar domes still remain in place.

Sunrise walk

Back to the couchsurfing gathering. I had been travelling alone in Berlin for 3 days, and came upon a gathering initiated by Ingre, an Estonian studying in Berlin. I had read about the place, and thought it would be cool to meet at 1am and do a short hike up to Teufelsberg with some CSers to catch the sunrise at 443hrs that morning.

I vaguely remember how I met Ingre… something along the lines of asking almost every blond at the station at 1am if she was called Ingre. But we managed to meet just as the train arrived , and I got to know Florian as well, another CS member, on the train ride. By the time the train reached the intended stop, there were 5 of us. By the next train, the group grew to 14 strong, of which 7 were drunk.

Couchsurfers - in all shapes, sizes, characters

It was another slight uphill walk to Teufelsberg, including a trail through some forest, and climbing through a hole in the fence. Apparently it was illegal to trespass. Apparently in Berlin, rules are broken more often than they are adhered to.

We arrived at Teufelsberg with time to spare before the sunrise, and explored the abandoned radar station.

Unfortunately, the weather was cloudy and there was not much of a sunrise to appreciate, but we still had a great time taking pictures from the windy station, and finally settling for some breakfast .

I'll let the pictures speak for themselves.

breakfast

Getting photography assistance

I'm not a cam-whore, but on occassion I do like my face in the picture.

Unfortunately, ever since I got my DSLR, my expectations of my pictures have increased significantly, in proportion to the quality of pictures produced.

This experience happened in Essouira, Morocco.

I'll let the pictures speak for themselves:

The problem

I am unable to take a decent self-portrait with my DSLR due to its bulk and weight. This is what I could manage, which does not capture the background which I wanted.

The Solution

Due to my limitations, I engaged the help of a local who was there with his girlfriend, admiring the amazing view of the sea. I described how I wanted to frame the picture in as simple english as possible. I even took a picture of him to set as an example:

My friendly assistant

The Frustration

However, after 3 attempts, the best he could muster was the below picture, which had the walls which I had hoped could be hidden. I thanked him for his efforts, got his email address, and promised to send him the picture I had taken for him (which I did send subsequently).

not quite what I wanted

The Perseverence and the End Result

And in my stubbornness, I placed my faith in another photographer, this time a fellow tourist, possibly from the US. After a brief description and 2 attempts, I got what I wished for:

Satisfaction at last!

G&* damn DSLRs!!! They take away the joys of photography at times!

Sharing a hotel room with a stranger

Trust - its easier earned for some people, like the person I entrusted my luggage with in Istanbul, and I had my experience of how it just might be easy to trust me.

It all started in Marakkesh, in the Riad Amazigh, north Africa's best-rated hostel (its really nice!). I had just checked in, and I caught sight of an asian girl walking by the reception. And my Singapore-sense just took effect - we made eye-contact, and we just knew that we were Singaporeans!

We got acquianted over a few drinks at the Cafe Arabes. She was Shuyi, a Singaporean based in Frankfurt, Germany, and she was travelling with her friend Tanja.

The next morning, we met at the breakfast table at the hostel. We were joined by a couple of English girls and a Jamaican.

Fast forward to lunchtime, and its Shuyi, Tanja, me and Jamaican girl (Sheree by name) eating and talking about our travels in Morocco.

Drinks at Cafe Arabes with Shuyi and Tanja

Both Sheree and I talked about visiting Essouira, and then out of nowhere, Shuyi blurted out," Stay at the Riad Jemalhi Mogador! Its only MAD 250 (EUR 25) a night for a double room! Since you 2 are travelling alone, why not share a room?" And then the words of reassurance - "He's Singaporean, he won't do anything to you!"




Sheree and I were both cool with that idea, and we did not talk much about it after. I noted down the name of the hotel, and left shortly for my Sahara adventure (see earlier posts).

___________________________

I'm Singaporean and I don't bite...

I remember sending Sheree an email from the Sahara informing her of my estimated arrival time at Essouira and hoped to meet her at the hotel. I was not having my expectations high, after all the unexpected events that had happened to me in Morocco thus far.

Fast forward 3 days later, and I found my way to the Riad Jemalhi Mogador in Essouira. The receptionist told me that it was fully booked, and I was thinking to myself "shit happened ..again.." when Sheree popped out of nowhere and gave me a welcome hug! I had a long ride from the desert, and it was just the pleasant surprise I needed.

And there - sharing a room with someone you met over a lunch for 2 nights.



During our stay in Essouira, I did tell Sheree that I did not expect to meet her there, and was curious as to why she would be willing to share the hotel room with me. Its not as though we could not afford to stay on our own.

Her response was that I gave her a "good vibe"...

I'm still wondering if that was meant to be a compliment....

Sheree having fun at Taros bar

Sebastian, cool french kite-surfing dude we met at the hotel, chilling at Taros Bar

Taxi adventure in the Sahara

I was on my second trip to Morocco, and I had learnt not to plan too much when in this "beautifully frustrating" land.

I had finally made my way to the Sahara this second attempt, and after my night under the stars, I made a spontaneous decision to spend another night amongst the sand dunes (after all, it was only EUR 5 a night for a relatively comfortable hotel).
It was meant to be a relaxing day, with sandboarding the only thing on my agenda. So there I was, noon in the Sahara, at Chez Ahmed cafe, having a berber omelette for lunch, with Ahmed and his Japanese friend (interesting lady, who moved to Morocco to improve her French. She taught social anthropology, if I remember correctly), and horror of horrors, I realised I was down to my last MAD 50 (about EUR 5).MAD 50 would only have covered my accommodation for the night, and I still had dinner to pay for, as well as the taxi fare back to Rissani (after which I would catch a bus back to Marrakesh).

I did not get stressed this (second) trip. I knew a screw-up would happen at some point... I just did’nt expect it to be my own! Ahmed offered me a berber omelette for dinner free of charge, and I could negotiate to have my taxi fare paid upon alighting at Rissani, where I could draw cash from the ATM.It sounded reasonable, but I could not bear to accept Ahmed’s hospitality. I don’t know why. Maybe it’s the feeling of losing my “tourist spending power”, or the embarrassment that came with accepting a free meal from the restaurant owner that survived on tourists like me. And maybe I just did not want to take the easy way out of a screw-up.

I made the decision of using the last MAD 50 to share a cab back to Rissani, where I would draw cash and live like a king again, and share another cab back to the desert, where I would catch the sunset, and pay for my last berber omelette at Ahmed’s.

The adventure begins....
I left Chez Ahmed’s at around 1500hrs in the afternoon, and waited around 45 minutes for the first taxi to ride in from Rissani. Rissani is basically the largest town in the east end of Morocco and has the best links to the rest of the country. I haggled with the driver and managed to get a seat in the cab for MAD 25. The ride to Rissani took around 45 minutes, including a stop by policemen, who were “bribed” with bottles of mineral water.

Within 5 minutes of arrival in Rissani, I got my cash. Within half an hour of arrival in Rissani, I received:

• Ridiculously overpriced offer for a shared cab to Marakkesh
• The tour guide that sold me my desert tour package demanding me for tips , before he offered any advice on returning to Marakkesh
• Tour guide’s fat brother asking me to visit his father’s shop to purchase some souvenirs, boasting about his 5 girlfriends whilst walking there
• Cold farewell from the father after I insisted that I was not doing any shopping whilst on this trip

After 45 minutes of “adventure”, I finally found my shared taxi (the same driver that took me to from the desert). There were 4 of us including the driver. 500 metres into our journey, our driver got nervy, and told all the passengers to alight, and he drove off in a haste. According to one of the passengers, one of his neighbours from Merzouga, the driver had no taxi license, and this had infuriated the other taxi drivers as he was stealing their business!

The plan now, according to this fellow passenger, was to keep walking along the road, till he got out of his situation, and he would drive by, pick us up and resume the journey. And so we walked, for another 15 minutes, and we realised we had come to the edge of the town, to which it was just one long desert road for another 40km. We knew it was pointless to keep walking, so we sat by the road and waited for this driver. And we waited. And waited. For a good 1.5hrs.
I still remember thinking to myself, this could only happen in Morocco, and that it was moments like these that I would remember forever and tell my friends and grandkids about. Cars went by, motorcycles zipped past, old men on donkeys rode by, cheers rang, as Barcelona beat Chelsea in the European Cup finals. The sun set. And still there was no kid in a taxi. I killed off time by staring at the various people going by, and chatting with that one passenger that spoke good english.

Eventually, after 1.5hrs of sitting by the road, we gave up on waiting for the taxi, and a bus headed for the desert picked us up, dropping me at Chez Ahmend's at 2000hrs. My estimated 3hr trip took me a nice eventful 5hrs!

I recall not being extremely upset. I was actually pretty calm through it all, and my final berber omelette at Ahmed's did help soothe me quite a bit.

For only EUR5 a night!!!

What did irk me though, was the little boy by the side of the road, stopping me on my stroll back to the hotel to ask the "very important question" of" Sir, do you have any money?"

My thoughts:

• In Morocco, you do not need a plan to have an adventure-filled holiday. You can have no plan, and adventure will find you.
• Many Moroccans think that with a little spoken english, they are able to demand money from tourists
• I find it easier to accept people's hospitality when I have money, as compared to when I have none, though I still cannot explain why.

Luggage storage in Istanbul

I learnt that there are no lockers for baggage storage at the bus station close to Taksim Square in Istanbul, so here's what I did:

1. Board a metro train with full luggage, and show discomfort in maneuvering it through the crowded cabin. I had 4hours to kill before my return flight to Oslo.



2. Spoke to the person next to me when I got my seat. Asked about his career, and his plans. Shared with him my plan for the day, which was to find a place to store my baggage for 4hours so that I could visit the Chora Museum.



3. My fellow passenger was a retired Turkish doctor who had been living in Australia for the past 30 years. He was in Istanbul to visit his friends, who had offices around Taksim Square. He suggested I put my bag at his friend's office, and pick it up after I had finished my sightseeing.



4. Thinking that it was just clothes in the bag, I took up his offer. After all, even if the bag disappeared, the office would not, rite?



5. Upon alighting the metro at Taksim Square, we walked around 400m to his friend's office on the 3rd floor of a building, which turned out to be a company which provided accounting services. I placed my bag down and took off for the Chora museum


6. I returned 3 hours later, with 2 oranges for the office boss, picked up my bag and left Turkey with the best example of world-famous Turkish hospitality.

Chora museum, with the best church mosaics I have ever seen

Sharing an umbrella

I was in New York in mid-April for a week. It's a great city, and the fact that a junior college friend of mine offered me her vacant apartment to stay for the entire week was just the icing on the cake.

To repay her kindness, I took her out to dinner. The evening we met, it was raining, and we had to share her umbrella. Being the taller person/gentleman, I held the umbrella. She stood on the left, me on the right, and I held the umbrella in my right hand.

And she asked,"Why hold the umbrella with your right hand?"

Referring to the diagram on the left, it can be seen that the bottom scenario is more practical, as both parties get more shelter from the umbrella.
But it seemed like a chore to explain the entire rationale of doing so, and I would have probably shocked/scared her if she found out that I had actually thought through this meaningless procedure, so I guess the only smart thing to reply was," So that I can put my arm around you"

I have to admit I am not usually like this, and definitely not used to putting my arms around a Singaporean, due to our generally conversative cultural background. But as we were in New York, I suppose it was right to put away the old-fashioned thinking and be spontaneous.

She seemed to appreciate the humour and my guiding hand, and off we went to a great dinner at Landmarc.

Learning points:

1. I have the ability to make a discussion out of the most insignificant matters


2. There are tons of beautiful eligible women in Manhattan, New York, and some of them bring out the suaveness in me
3. I need a course on how to break down physical barriers with Singapore women.

Last minute couch in Bodø, North Norway

Ever since finding out about couchsurfing from my sister in April 20o8, I joined the community and have been trying to couchsurf as much in my travels as possible. By the end of my European travels in early June 2009, I would have surfed more than 10 couches, and probably hosted more than 7 guests on my Oslo couch, including attending quite a few parties and gatherings, and meeting members for coffee and drinks. My profile can be found at:

http://www.couchsurfing.org/people/bentse/

This post describes the bizarre fashion I found a couch in Bodø, up in north Norway.

I had befriended 2 Czech tourists at Å, and we met again at the Moskenes jetty and contined our chat about photography, the Northern Lights and travelling on the 3 hour ferry journey. I was headed toBodø, where I would have to spend the night before flying off the next morning back to Oslo.
Saying goodbye to the Lofoten Islands


An hour away from Bodø, I told them that I still had no accomodation for the night, and that I was trying to couchsurf there, but due to the extremely few members there, I still had no couch for the night, and was hoping to find a cheap hostel or hotel.

Marketa, one of the Czechs, told me that she was on couchsurfing too, and she had actually found a couch for the night. However, she was making her way south to Trondheim that evening, and was not going to meet her host. She suggested that I contact her host via sms to check if I could take her place instead. I thought it strange to send a request via sms, but on the other hand, there was nothing to lose, and so I did. To my pleasant surprise, the host, Arvid, agreed to take me in at this last minute notice!

I made my way to Arvid's place upon alighting the ferry. Arvid would be around 40, very fit (he had just completed a kayaking tour), and was a manager of a dance club. His apartment was still under contruction, but the furnished parts were extremely modern and typically Scandinavian in design (ie nice). We had a half hour introduction and chat, he handed me his housekeys, offered me his food, TV, DVD collection, gave me permission to bring a girl home, and he left for a party. That was the first and last time I saw Arvid. I took a shower and went out for dinner, and to meet Katherine, my colleague who was staying with her family in town. I was introducing Katherine the couchsurfing concept and thought I'd show her Arvid's place, which looked like a cross between a spa and a construction site. Whilst at the entrance to his apartment, one of Arvid's neighbours opened his front door, and asked in Norwegian if we were from childcare services. Puzzled, we replied no, and ignored him. Ten minutes later, at the front of the building, a lady popped open her window, and asked us the same question! Again we responded no, but this time I asked Katherine if she should call them, as this family might have been abusing their child. I guess they raise their kids differently up North.

Katherine left shortly after, I went back to Arvid's, watched a couple of DVDs, slept, woke up early the next morning, left the keys in the living room, and caught the flight to Oslo.

Lessons learnt:

1. Couchsurfing is extremely popular, and do not be surprised if you meet a fellow member in your travels, wherever you may be.
2. Generosity and hospitality continues to exist, and sometimes it might be easier to trust strangers than friends/colleagues/neighbours
3. I appear to be a trustworthy person

Getting around in the Lofoten Islands

I spent Easter 2009 in the Lofoten Islands, a group of islands in the north of Norway, above the arctic circle, famous for its breathtaking scenery and laidback atmosphere.



I had planned to spend 8 days there, to make my way from the northernmost island of Svolvær to the southernmost tip of Å.

I had checked out all the bus timings to make the journey possible, taking into account that it was Easter period and that the bus frequency would be much lower. However, I did not take into account that it was still the low season for tourism, and that most of the hotels, bed and breakfasts and hostels were closed in this period. To make matters worst, the hostel at Svolvær was too expensive for me to stay too long, and the cheaper accomodation was at Å, all the way in the south!

Problem - How was I going to explore the middle islands without accomodation there?


I took a bus to Å on the third day. I knew I had accomodation. I just did not know how I was going to see the other islands. I read and heard that hitchhiking in the north of Norway was common and I thought it was about time I tried. Somehow the Asian mentality in me was still not too accepting of hitchhiking as a mode of transportation.

Upon arrival at the hostel in Å, I befriended 2 fellow travellers, a Finn by the name of Jakke, and an Austrian girl named Martina. We had all arrived around the same time that evening at the hostel, and I found out that both Jakke and Martina were driving through the legendary Lofotens!

I took up Jakke's offer to be his co-driver and "tour guide". He needed to know which parts of the islands to visit, and I needed his wheels. Perfect. We set off early the next morning and drove to Eggum via Reine, Borg and Napp. Jakke was short of time, as he was rushing to Tromso to meet friends for a ski trip. He dropped me off at Eggum, about 10km from the bus stop, where my plan was to either hitch hike back to the hostel, or to catch the bus, whichever was earlier. I was in no rush. I still had 4 days to discover 2 other islands on my list.

Jakke's car Beach near Eggum

As though my luck could not get better, within 5 minutes of getting off Jakke's car, Martina drove by and offered to drive me around the islands with her 2 friends! It's hard to understand how charmed I can get... we went to Utakleiv, Unstad, Nusfjord, and she even dropped me back at the hostel. And thus, I managed to see all the parts of the Lofotens I had intended to visit, and I still had 4 days to go!

And thus ended my hitchhiking opportunities...

I stayed around Å for the remaining days, doing some hiking (limited by avalanches), cycling (to find an unsecured wireless connection), photo-taking, befriending other tourists and even watching a dvd purchased at the petrol station (out of sheer boredom).

Lessons learnt:
- Sometimes less planning is better (as experienced in Morocco as well).
- Travel with an open mind. Insignificant things are better appreciated.
- People are nice and are willing to help in general. You just need a thick skin to ask for it.

Interesting Moroccan sayings

I just find Morocco so fascinating, and that I have many experiences there to share... including the following things i picked up from my 2 trips there:

"For you my friend, special democratic price...."

"We don't push like Bush"

"No hurry like Ferrari"

"Moroccan men are warriors, and we have fire within us. We can f*** for hours!"

"Insha'Allah" - meaning God willing.

Flying with drunk Norwegians...

One of my more memorable flights was from Marrakesh to Oslo, back in October 2008.

What I hear from my Norwegian friends is that Norwegians like to go for charter tours, and get really drunk and behave silly from the moment they board the plane. What I experienced first hand was a Norwegian getting drunk on the flight back to Norway.

It was a 6hr flight in the afternoon, and I took the window seat and a norwegian woman in her 40s (lets call her Norsk dame) in the aisle seat, with the middle seat vacant. Her husband occupied the opposing aisle seat.

I could not help but notice that the Norwegians around me (seats in front and beside) were consuming beer and wine purchased from the in-flight catering, and having some stuck-in-your-seats party.

3 hours into the flight and a few wines later, Norsk dame picked up her magazine. I turned on her reading light to assist. She appreciated the gesture. She fidgeted uncomfortably for 20 minutes and gave up reading for some sleep. She could not sleep in her seated position, and so she raised the arm rest to her side, and lay down, occupying the vacant seat, head toward me. She smiled at me to get my consent.
After 10 minutes of writhing in the 2 seats, she decided she needed more space and politely asked if she could place her head on my lap.
I responded," only if your husband does not mind." We looked towards him for a response, and he just smiled at us. I agreed. He then said," You're a good man." I just smiled, puzzled at what had just happened.

For the rest of the flight, I remember chatting to the couple and taking pictures (for the husband) of the sleeping Norsk dame on my lap.

I still wonder:
Why did I allow Norsk dame to lie on my lap? (I did not find her attractive)
Would I allow my drunken spouse to lie on a stranger's lap?
Is such behaviour embarassing? It's all done in good fun after all.

Jakarta bombings

I arrived in Jakarta on Friday morning at 0830hrs.
Whilst waiting for my host's driver to pick me up, i got an sms from a friend, asking me if I had left Jakarta. I thought it was a strange question, so i responded that I had just arrived and I asked her if something was wrong. To my horror, she told me that the Ritz Carlton Jakarta had just been bombed.
In the next few hours, I receive sms and calls asking about my safety, to which I promptly respond to reassure both friends and family.
At lunchtime, I am with my host Elisabeth, her mother, 2 aunties and their driver, having lunch at a seafood restaurant, after a visit to the History and Wayang Museums and the old port.
Somehow they see it very differently from a non-Indonesian's perspective. I just put my faith in them, and trust that they would not bring me to places where there would be potential danger.
The day continues with a visit to some shops selling brassware and the National Monument. I have dinner at her place, and spend the rest of the night watching a hilarious game show called Take Me Out Indonesia, where each week, around 30 girls hope to find their Prince Charming from 7 potential male candidates.
I spend Saturday in Bandung and its surroundings, where I visit a couple of volcanic craters and the city centre. After a fantastic dinner at Kampong Daun, I return back to Elisabeth's and make the wiser choice of staying indoors.

I have another day in Jakarta, and up to this moment I am having a fabulous time, notwithstanding the 9 bombscares that were announced over the radio and television on Friday.
I trust my host knows how to stay safe in the city, and I will follow her advice accordingly, and not put my health at risk.
Thanks for the smses and calls and facebook posts, my dear friends and family, and stay positive as I am!

ben

My most stressful night of travelling

1 night in Er Rachidia

Er Rachidia is mainly a military base, with good bus connections to other main cities of Morocco, including the desert. I spent 1 night there, to make a choice of whether to continue towards the Sahara desert or to Fez for my boutique hotel room.

The moment I alighted the tourist bus, Kamal (more about Kamal later) received me. Kamal informed me that accommodation in Er Rachidia was about Dh130 (ca. EUR13) a night. However upon stepping into the hotel, the price per room was raised to Dh390, as he thought there were 3 people, and each bed would cost Dh130. I was pissed, and I demanded a cheaper room, to which he brought me to another hotel, and charged me Dh20 for something that looked pretty much like a prison cell with a broken bed. Again I told him off and asked for a better quality room. I managed to get a half-decent room (details and picture to follow) for Dh120 that night on the third attempt.

These are the other experiences that made things worse:

• Being offered a desert tour package which was more expensive than the one I paid for in Marrakesh, when I was only 80km away from the dunes (the dunes are more than 200km away from Marrakesh), to which I aggressively declined (I told Kamal toF*** off).


• No one could give clear information on directions to the desert from Er Rachidia, about whether the flood had subsided clearing the road to the desert, or a weather forecast. Well, no one really spoke English.

Mostapha trying to help with directions/weather advice

My means of communicating with Mostapha

• Owner of the internet café wanted to rip me off an additional EUR0.1 in front of his very young daughter/niece, who was grinning at his dishonesty.


• Sleeping in a room with a broken door handle on the inside and a window facing the toilet.

fancy?

The morning after - a different Kamal
I survived the night in that hotel room, to my relief (I do remember calling my ex at night informing her of my situation), and made my way to the bus station, with my dreams of reaching the Sahara shattered, towards Fez.
I saw Kamal at the bus station, and told him my plan. I had some time to kill before my bus arrived, and so I sat down with Kamal for a pot of Moroccan tea. Kamal was a totally different person from the night before. No more pushy and sly sales tactics. Just talking about family, his business, the djellaba, and life in Er Rachidia. It was filled with sincerity and laughter.

I guess the lesson here was - People have more fun when money is not involved.

Morocco - where less planning is better

I used to take pride in the way I organised my trips, with Excel spreadsheets detailing where to go on which day, how much to spend, and where I would be staying. Basically, everything was always under control. Turned out Morocco is just not the country you want to visit if you expect things to go smoothly..

I had planned a week for Morocco (18-25 October 2008), with a 3 day trip to the Sahara desert, and subsequently to Fez, Meknes etc. The plan was not detailed as my other trips, but I'd enough faith in the public transport system to get me from one city to the next on time.

A Sahara desert tour package was booked from Marakkesh, and the plan was to finish the tour in Marakkesh and make my way to Fez immediately. I booked a boutique hotel room (EUR65 a night) in Fez, in anticipation that I would need it after a camel ride and a night under the stars in the Western Sahara desert.

Here is where things went wrong:

We were supposed to arrive at the Erg Chebbi desert dunes on the second night of the tour, after a 200km bus ride from the Dades Gorges. We arrived at Erfous, 40km away from the dunes, and our tour bus came to an abrupt halt. Apparently all traffic had stopped as the road to the desert was flooded!




Checking with the driver, there was no alternative route, and all he could do was to drive back 200km to the Dades Gorges to spend the night, and return to Marakkesh the next day.

That was not an option for me, as I had to get to the desert that night, and then make my way to Fez immediately for the following night in the boutique hotel (which I could not cancel!).

So I made my own Plan B - I dropped off at the nearest town of Er Rachidia, where I would spend my most horrible night of travelling ever, and reflect whether to make my way to the desert the next morning, or to make my way to Fez for the boutique hotel.

What happened in Er Rachidia will be documented in another post, but the eventual conclusion was that I would make my way to Fez, and leave my Saharan adventure for another trip (which I did make in June 2009). I found out later from the tourists on the desert tour that they made it to the desert the following night and had an excellent time.

To summarise - Flood destroyed my dream of making it to the Sahara desert, and I spent a night in an amazing boutique hotel to comfort myself for missing it.

I was alot more well prepared in my return to Morocco in June 2009. I did not make any plan at all... and it was a good thing I did not...details to be documented in a later post.

Chinese saying - Have fate thousand miles will meet; No fate face-to-face will not hold hands

The following entry focuses on the first half of above saying.

This happened in the summer of 2008, whilst on my Spain tour with Charpin. We were in Granada (13 July 2008), touring the Alhambra (what else?!). I had gone ahead to take some pics and ten minutes later I turned around to see Charp had befriended someone.

She was Jamie, an American psychology undergrad on exchange in Toledo, a charming town just an hour from Madrid. I mentioned that I would probably be visiting Toledo later on, and it would be great to meet up again. We exchanged email addresses, got a pic of Charp and Jamie, and departed, as she only had an hour (or half?) to finish the entire Alhambra. I did not have further correspondence with Jamie due to the hectic pace of our trip (10 cities in 14 days) ...

Fast forward to a week later, whilst walking through the old town of Toledo (19 July 2008), I noticed a familiar attractive blond walking with a companion, and yes, it was Jamie! This time we exchanged phone numbers, and I promised to call her to meet for a drink once I finished my tour of Toledo (I had only 3 hours). I did call Jamie after the sightseeing and picture-taking, but somehow was not able to get through...

I guess this post does have to do with the second half of the chinese saying after all...

To date, we keep in touch online, and I must thank her for entertaining me during my many boring weekday nights in Oslo!

Talking to Norwegians

Norwegians have been reputed to be cold people, and some of the most difficult people to befriend. That might be true to an extent, but I know Norwegians to be curious and extremely warm on first impression , meaning they will smile, laugh, query, dance, drink with you and even give you their contact number/email address/facebook contact (and possibly more), but do not expect to ever see or hear from them again in the future.

Here are a couple of pleasant first impressions:

On a late Friday evening, after the usual fredagspils (customary Friday beer session), I was thinking of saving on cab fare and asked the girl in front of me in the taxi queue if she was headed in the same direction as me, and it turned out she was. We shared the taxi ride back. Turns out she was an auditor as well! Some money saved, and good conversation on the journey.

On a separate evening, I had missed the last train back home. Again, in order to save some cab fare, I approached a slim attractive blond and asked if she was headed in the same direction as me, and whether she would like to share a cab with me. Turns out she was headed back to the university close to my place, and agreed to share the cab, but had no cash and needed to draw some from the nearby ATM. I then suggested that since it was only a half hour walk in the Oslo snowy winter, why not walk the journey instead. To my surprise she actually agreed, and we walked and talked to our own residences.

Interesting thing I remembered from that conversation was how she had to redo a semester in university due to almost a year spent in bed, as she found herself very weak and unable to get out of bed to work and study (a disease you will probably not hear of in Singapore).

Another observation: I only asked her name at the end of the evening, meaning we had been sharing personal things such as work, studies, family, relationships, health and hobbies for half an hour with a stranger.

Are names important at all?

There were quite a few more random encounters, but the above 2 just remind me of the kind of friendliness that I have yet to receive in Singapore.

First entry - introduction

Here you will find some experiences encountered during my travels during the period October 2007 to July 2009, which I found amazing or in some ways amusing.
I decided to document them in a blog in July 2009, for fear that I might forget them, and to aid in my memoirs writing possibly 40 years from now...
Hope you enjoy reading them!

Ben