Ai ai ai ai - but I've got nothing to wear?

I noticed in KL how quickly my attitudes to dress were changing. After a couple of days, full length tunic-and-skirt outfits, complete with veil, were the norm, and I was trying to adopt similar standards. Even a business suit on a woman was starting to look provocative (although no one else seemed to mind - I'd often see a group of women strolling to work together, one in "western" dress, one in a sari, a couple in brightly coloured, but full coverage get-ups, and perhaps one in full burqa).

It seemed to make sense to cover up - no worries about sunburn, no sideways looks from dodgy geezers, quite civilised really.

And then we entered "Amazing Thailand".

Hat Yai is the first major city you hit on the rail line from the border with Malaysia, and we'd arrived just in time for Songkran - Thai New Year celebrations.

Traditionally, the celebrations revolve around paying respect to your elders, who annoint your neck or hands with water. Devotees also head down to the local Wat (temple), to clean images of the Buddha and recieve a blessing, marked in white pigment by the monk in residence.

The highlight of festivities for Hat Yai, however, seemed to be a parade featuring floats from all the nightspots in town, complete with soaking wet, gyrating Thai girls - in cages, on poles, or just generally bopping about in tiny denim hotpants. The most popular float theme song?

"Ai ai ai ai!
But I've got nothing to wear!"
Followed by a deep pumping base riff that allowed the gilrs to swing their hips around with gusto

And the costume? Just a wet towel...

Well, they couldn't find any clothes, could they, poor things...

The entire town, and if fact, the country, seems to go nuts over the long weekend, kids get the run of the city and old people stay safely indoors. Posses drive around in pick-up trucks, drenching passers by. The talc sales in Thailand must peak over Songkran, as anyone on the street is fair game to be smeared with thick white talc and water paste.

Bloody good fun, as long as your prepared to get wet. And of course, we were.

xox

Blankey's blog

Breakfast at Barracuda Cafe... I like Banana Roti, but the humans order rice! For breakfast!

One of the locals...

Working on our tans...

Let's... Go... Snorkelling!

"You go diving today?"
"You go fishman's village today?"
"You go snorkelling today?"

"Nah, I think we do nothing today - what's that in Malay?" we asked the very, very charming host at Barracuda Bar over Mango shakes.

"Oh - you orang malas! Means laaaazy man!"

So eventually we did go snorkelling, and it was incredibly beautiful. Din the snorkelling pimp makes all his clients yell "Let's... Go... Snorkelling!" as they leave the beach, mostly to piss of the dive intructors I think, but the phrase "let's... go... orang malas!" prompted hysterics from Din and the other locals for the rest of our time on Perenthian.

On our way to the Thai border, we shared a cab with a Belgian family. The well-travelled dad of this cutie:

thought that we'd just left the most beautiful island in Asia... wonder if he's right.

Some more pics:

Our bungalow (on the right at the end)

The dangers of island life.

NSW Firefighters - keeping beers cold across the globe. (Yes, that's our balcony. Sorry about the glare, but sun bouncing off calm clear water will go that)

Orang Malas..!

The jungle railway swept us away from KL, right up the spine of Malaysia, to the north eastern corner of the country... We were heading for a set of islands called Perenthien. But first, a note to travellers!

Note to Travellers: If you arrive at a small town after nightfall, it might not be such a good idea to proudly turn away the taxi drivers, on a valiant search for the bus station, which may or may not actually exist. When you find that the buses have stopped running, it may be that the taxi drivers have all disappeared as well. You may be forced to take up the offer of a young guy with no english except a handwritten phrasebook with handy coversation starters such as "Malaysia has many beautiful beaches and there is a very interesting museum nearby, I can take you to a local craft market...".

Look! Wave to the tourists! These kids proceeded to do a little rain dance for our entertainment...

Anyway, a night in Kota Baru, a yummy breakfast on the street with the locals (yes! locals! they put condensed milk in their coffee - soul mates!), and we made our connection to Coral Bay.

The quiet side of the quiet island, Coral Bay sports three cafes, a couple of dive shops and some of the most crystal clear, turquoise water I've ever had the pleasure of wallowing in...

We ate Barramundi BBQ, wandered through private tickertape parades of dusty cream butterflies, and inspected the shallows - but mostly we did Orang Malas...

Well was certainly meant to be a civilised way to begin...

First post, sipping "real" coffee on the 31st floor of Sydney's Hotel Intercontinental. Very nice man at reception took stock of throw away clothes (literally, I'm tossing the outfit in the bin when we leave, it's very liberating), backpacks (yes, 50 litres, that's all we're taking, no, I don't think it's going to be a problem, gulp), and gift voucher for one (1) night's accommodation (thank you Worling Saunders), and gave us an upgrade, a room on the second highest floor of the building, and a late check out time. Yayyy!

View from our room...

Unfortunately, a combination of extreme over planning (Blake), and mild absent-mindedness on my part, meant that we didn't get to utilise the lazy morning.

Note to travellers: Important documents, such as non-refundable plane tickets, should be kept safe... but to hand. I do not recommend zipping the tickets in the invisible pocket of your girlfriend's handbag, which she then puts into storage. Especially when you put all the keys to the storage in equally "safe" places, like posting them to your parents, leaving them with friends who are uncontactable, or at work. It makes for quite a hectic trip to the airport (Hotel-Work-Storage Space-Airport: 40 minutes)

So, we made our flight, off to what the Lonley Planet calls the "kiddie's wading pool" of Asia - KL. And it's pretty spot on. Customs was such a non-event we wondered if had even happened, new train took us right into the city, then one connection to reach chinatown, the backpacker ghetto of the city. Our Planet-picked hostel was full, so the guy at the desk walked us across to another - mainly to get beer, I suspect, but a kind gesture all the same!

So we've wandered, we've eaten, we've seen some sites, but mostly we've just been acclimatising ourselves to the heat and hustle bustle of the shallows before we plunge any deeper!