Mount Rinjani, Lombok, Indonesia (3,726m)

Hiking is a terminal illness. Typical symptoms are frequent needs to hike, excessive time spent in those “bum-fuck-places", increased hunger of shopping for new hiking gears, lack of interest in staying home watching “Desperate Housewives", and a tingling sensation whenever an oversea hiking trip is booked. If you show any signs of these, that’s it, you are doomed. Like diabetes, there is no cure for hiking. You can only inject adrenaline to your blood stream and keep hiking from revolting in your body. I was diagnosed three years ago. In August 2013, I injected a big dose of adrenaline into my body and that dose of adrenaline was called, Mount Rinjani.

Stunning view of Mount Rinjani on the Senaru Cradle Rim

I am getting old, and some details are a bit blurry now but what I would not forget is the day we arrived in Lombok airport in Indonesia. Two dozens of us walked through custom to the arrival hall with heaps of hiking gears and big suitcases were like fresh baguettes rolled out of a boulangerie in a tiny little Frenchie town, piping hot and up-for-grabs. We were hassled by a lot of Indonesians brandishing Mount Rinjani hiking routes and packages on laminated A4 papers. Fortunately, representative from Rudy Trekker spotted us, grabbed us by the tail and hauled us all up to the bus before those piranhas devoured us. We drove a good 4 hours to reach the homestay in Senaru where we put up a night. It must have been a full moon night, as I remembered we were oohing and ahhing about the beatific night view after dinner. Day 1 of no-shower, recorded.

Start of the trek to Mount Rinjani

The next morning, we prep ourselves for an easy day of ascent to Sembalun Crater Rim (2,639m) via Sembalun Village (1,051m). While we waited for the guides to check us in, we wondered around, unable to contain our excitement with the bewitching view on sight. The walk through open fields were stunning. We had clear blue sky, blazing hot sun, mischievous clouds, lush greenery with contrasting browns, and smiley local folks, what more could you have asked for? A few times we stopped and monkeyed around with the porters and their heavy sacks which they carried on their shoulders through a bamboo stick with one sack on each end. It was anything but monkey business, I assured you.

A few of us on the open field, enjoying the hike.

Enjoying lunch prepare by guide and porters at Pos 3, Padang Balong

At Pos 3, Padang Balong, we enjoyed a recherché lunch prepared by the guide and porters. Delicious hot instant noodle soup with a lot of salt and vegetables could not beat the delicately decorated plates of pineapples. We laughed and joked among ourselves before it was time to pack up and continue our journey. From there on to the campsite, Sembalun Crater Rim, it was a 3 hours steep climb. I met a Polish guy on the way. He caught my attention because of the massive backpack he carried. He told me that he was on his own and he carried everything with him. I could see the agony in his face, but he was sweating the happy sweat.

Standing above clouds and so close to the sun at Sembalun Crater Rim

By the time we reached Sembalun Crater Rim, I was astonished. Both with the breathtaking view and perplexing trash. Sembalun Crater Rim is the stop where most of the hikers would set up camp for the night before their midnight summit attempt to Mount Rinjani peak. Being above clouds, feeling so close to the sun could not take my mind off the litres that garnished the less than 1km stretch on the crater rim. When I saw our newly established toilet for the day, I started laughing at the irony. Day 2 of absolutely no-shower, recorded.

We woke up far from the crack of dawn, in darkness, couldn’t feel Rosie at all and scrambled to change into warm hiking gears. It was a long journey to the Mount Rinjani peak which started with a moderately steep climb. I tried to talk my head into singing the emptiness out and hypnotised my legs into cooperating. 2 hours into the hike, I reached a flatter surface. I thought to myself, Well, that went swell. Little did I know, that was when the nightmare started - loose sand trek.

We stopped for sunrise and it was mesmerizing

Mount Rinjani peak, with the group of local students

When we signed up for the hike, we were told to bring a pair of good walking stick for the summit day. I have always taken a dislike towards walking sticks when I hike. As I struggled to put my feet more than 2 steps up without sliding down hopelessly while some other hikers were marching up Mount Rinjani like an army of soldiers, I regret it. Those cocky group of young french people zooming down from the summit zealously, bringing a cloud of sand dust with them did not help my frustration, not even a tinny little bit.

I moved towards the summit of Mount Rinjani, one step after the other with a group of local students and I felt peace and glee despite the whirling heart beat. I froze as the sun rose next to us. The bright orange with a tinge of redness donned the skyline, and every seconds that we were awed, darkness frittered away slowly. As if it was the end of a busking, as the tone dropped, the sky lid up, we dispersed. Fast forwarding my usual swearing session, I reached the summit of Mount Rinjani and savoured the victory in a picture with the group of students.

Never forget to take a grand picture like this, over looking the Segara Anak Lake

Unlike the challenging ascent, descending from summit back to Sembalun Crater Rim campsite was effing awesome. I recorded a video of me playing woohoo-yeehee-yayhoo down them loose sands and took a grand picture of the Segara Anak Lake. We had lunch and waited for everyone to regroup before heading down towards Segara Anak Lake. It was an enjoyable hike where we soaked up the sun and laughed heartily about silly stuffs, loony poses for the camera and George the locksmith. We did not forget our manners and greeted passerby with big grins while saluting their guts to summit Mount Rinjani via that steep trail.

Although it was late in the evening when we arrived at the campsite by the Segara Anak Lake, it did not stop us from stripping down to bare necessity and trekked to the nearby hot spring. Correction, nearby hot spring waterfall! Imagine an impressively sized waterfall, with hot spring water flowing and how amazing that must have felt on your skin after 3 days of no shower! Oh it was five-star! Apart from having to walk back to the campsite shivering all over, we have no complains.

View of Segara Anak Lake from the peak of Mount Rinjani

Everyone was more relaxed the next day even though we had a few steep climbs up to the Senaru Cradle Rim (2,641m). It was a perfect trek to take plenty of gorgeous pictures, different viewpoints. I have enjoyed this part the most as it gave a mix of frenzy and relaxation, much like a mellow thriller movie that I would enjoy on a fine Saturday night. Apparently the weather was not good so we moved the next day itinerary forward and headed down to the park entrance after admiring the view from the Senaru Cradle Rim. As soon as we reached the park entrance, the sky broke and it was pouring.

We hung out at the shelter after dinner. Around 8 p.m., we heard that someone was injured on the mountain and by 10 p.m. we saw the injured person being carried out on a bamboo stretcher. The severe injury on her leg was tormenting her and I remembered she puked a few times. They managed to get her out the same night and I sincerely hoped she was okay. The heavy mood was lifted after that and everyone started laughing at jokes flying across the lofty hut. We spent the night with the longwinded drizzle rain and left the park the next morning.

When a friend asked me about my hike to Mount Rinjani recently, I couldn’t helped but replayed the trip in my head. It was fun and memorable. Not only it was a challenge for me both physically and mentally, I have had a tremendous time spent with a bunch of nutty hikers. Having travelled now for almost a year, did hikes alone and with new faces; there is something of “je ne sais quoi" about spending a few days away with friends from home, trekking and hiking in foreign land that I miss a lot. Anyway, for my friends who are dying to hike Mount Rinjani, bon courage!! 

Blarring Your Way Through Europe

I was walking in the underground of Paris Metro, connecting one station to another and I saw those men and women in uniform with arrogance written all over their faces, halting passerby to check their tickets. It reminded me of the horrible time when a friend of mine got into trouble, for simply not speaking French. What? Of course I am joking! However, she was fined for not adhering to the rules of signing over her photo on the metro pass and raising her voice speaking English absolutely did not help. Ridiculous stuff, I know. Having been in Europe for almost 3 months, I get it. Its expensive to travel in Europe. You want to get through the villages, the towns, the cities, the countries in the cheapest possible manner. Every penny counts.

Being a backpacker myself, this is some information I have gathered and trust me, I have paid a fortune for it.

Voyages SNCF

Gare du Nord, Paris

My travel mainly revolved around France. Well, what can I say, j’adore France! SNCF has provided me with simple and timely connections between train and bus within France and to main European cities such as Milan, Barcelona, London and more. If you can plan well in advance, the website normally gives up to 50% discount for early birds. They are very reliable, although in some short local connections, they prohibit purchases via international credit card that use the “Secure 3D Authentication” payment method. That means you will have to buy the ticket over counter and bye-bye online discount.

It has been my main source of travel planning until recently when I was stuffed spending nearly 100euro on a one way train and bus connection from centre of France to Barcelona while my sweet little friend bought a bus ticket for 5euro for the same route. I am sure you can imagine how annoyed I was with myself. Anyhow, for travel within France, this website will unfortunately be your bible, I think.

If you are under 26 years old, bare in mind that SNCF does provide 25% discount. Now, I look pretty young, or some might even say I look wickedly kiddish in real life. Although I thought the “age is a sensitive topic for women” is kind of rubbish, but still, I like to stay mysterious. Haha. I went to the Gare in Annecy before departure to get my connection train to Lyon and the guy over the counter gave me a 25% discount without as much as a question. It was a two hour journey and I was lucky as no officer came onboard to check my ticket. I heard the penalty is quite hefty.

Bla-Bla Car

Another cheap way to get on the road is via car sharing. Bla-Bla Car might be the most active site for hitching a ride safely. It is very much like hitch hiking, except you arranged it and pay a minimal fee. Sharing the fuel cost. Bla-Bla Car gets you on an adventure, fresh faces and fresh topics to talk about. I love talking to people and meeting new people, don’t get me wrong, but somehow when I get on the road, I prefer some peace and quiet time for myself.

I signed up for short journeys with Bla-Bla Car so far and I have good and bad reviews about it. I shared a ride with a French guy from Chamonix to Genève and 1 hour flew by because we clicked. He did what I am doing and took a year after his college to travel in Asia. He has beautiful and ugly stories to tell about Asia and I listened with amusement, fiddled through the memory boxes, trying to match the past with the relatively fresh present in my head.

Another ride was from Genève to Annecy. It was a Spanish teacher and he was commuting back and forth between France and Switzerland like many other white collars. The cost of living in Genève is skiving through the roof that most people moved to nearby towns such as Annecy where they could afford bigger square meter with their pay checks. I knew there was something about Spanishthat I dislike. We didn’t have a heart to heart, mostly because he was pegging away to kill me with the heat in his car, oh someone please teach this Spanish bloke how to operate the air condition in his Volkswagen! Also, he has an underlying tone of cynicism that I detest. Thank god it was just 30 minutes.

Bla-Bla Cardoes get you cheap rides (80% off the official price with bus or train), but you will have to put up with the talking and odds of riding with people that might not share the same interest as you. Some like yapping, go ahead. Some said, “Ah well, you are not picking a husband, who cares?” In that case, by all means, be my guests.

Megabus

Megabus parked at Porte Maillot Coach Park, Paris

I have recently been introduced to this website, Megabus, which raised the urge of me stabbing myself in the foot for being so effing foolish. This is an UK operated company who provides long distance bus journey with the most economical price ever. What’s their success story? I still couldn’t fathomed. They offer quite a varieties of routes within Europe and of course, expect the less popular routes to have lower frequency.

It is really a life saver with this website. I’ll give you an example, Barcelona - Paris, I paid 15pounds whereas if I have gone by the book with SNCF, I’d ended up paying 170euros for the train. A word of advise booking with this company? Weekdays travel cost at least 50% less than weekends travel. They are not the best long distance travel options, but it save you heaps that you can probably splurge on a massage later.

Hitch-Hiking

Another more traditional travel option for backpackers is none other than hitch-hiking. I am not a big fan of it, but tried it out of desperation when I was hiking in the bother of France and Switzerland. I got lost and under time constrain so I did the hand gesture. Yes, I know. I remembered talking to a girl in a hostel in China. She left home with very little savings but she has been to so many places in China, all by hitch-hiking.

In the beginning I thought she was a drunk. Then I realised it was her signature story-telling face, with one eye bigger than the other in sort of a half-squinting and half expressing-disgust way. Then again, it was China. How it works in Europe, I have no idea. Although I have heard it is generally safe to hitch-hike in Europe.

Traffic in Beijing, China

A friend told me about rome2rio which I have yet to find out. It is supposed to tell you the ways you can get from one place to another. I have also heard stuff about Eurail Pass, how convenient it is, I am certainly curious to check out the terms and conditions. I hope this information help you and save you tons of money!

Workaway: Mon Deuxième Week-end À CFA

I have been 2 weeks in CFA on a workaway assignment and it has been superb fun. I wrote a blog for them detailing every single, well not every but most, things that happened. I have recently done an art work for them, my first ever large scale art project -- a World Map Mural. Check out the video on this page -- World Map Mural Video 

You can also check in on this website to see more of my daily life in CFA. Merci. ;) 

My first World Map art mural thanks to CFA Les 13 Vents!

France - Les Parisians, La Ville

I often dream about walking on the streets of Paris, hand in hand with the love of my life, in a city so full of love that would choked you to death and then reality hits me. After being in Paris for a week, I was torn between staying or leaving. I did not want to pack the entire Paris in one week because deep down, I think I would still come back. If anything travel has taught me, is to never do anything for anybody else but yourself. 

Read my playful rendition of Paris deuxième partie here -- Les Parisians, La Ville

Hanging out with the girls, drinking wine, being as Parisians as we can be!

Just A Quick Hello!

Dropping in quickly to update y'all. I was sorting out some pictures and had to share this!! Me being extremely petrified but still got my ass in gear to do the craziest shit in China @ Huashan, Shaanxi, China. More updates soon! :) 

Scariest thing to do in Mount Hua, China

Laos Through The Eyes of a Happy-Go-Lucky Skeptic!

The idea of seeing Laos arose when Seth told me he had been having a shit time there (okay, joke! Remember? The kind that makes you laugh?) Anyway, so Seth loved it there and imagining his animated silly face while we exchanged a few emails about the wonderful Laos, I knew there and then of how to spend my holiday in mid September. 

Flights to Vientiane aren't frequent and don't come cheap either, if you have a fix travel date. Fortunate for me, I could afford to be flexible this time. I refused to grill Seth about the where's where and what's what of Laos, partly also because he knew sweet fuck all about it. "I just love to spend my weekends in Vientiane. Playing spikeball and working out", he said. As Seth was "on his way out" of his company, he has to work his hours, which meant part of the trip, I was gonna be a Lone Ranger. The only thing he ever so generously let me in about Laos were "Sabaidee" and "Khapchai" with both palms closed together positioned in front of his chest. 

Over the years, I have become more and more relaxed when it comes to traveling. I mean, what do you want to get out of from your trip? See places as suggested by Lonely Planet? Have fine meals in restaurant recommended by Tripadvisor? Meet people who are party animals like you? Or see the land at it's most naked form, see what it has to offer the minute you get off the plane and meet beautiful people along the way, whether locals or foreigners. Trust me, they have interesting stories to tell, and would equally be fascinating, being spontaneous (Backpacker is an exception. You need to differentiate between the true adventurists and the drunks..) 

I have to be frank here before I let you into my adventure in Laos. My impression of Laos, hasn't been completely flattering. When I was in middle school, dad took us to Chiang Mai for holiday. I remembered part of the tourist attraction was to visit the border a bit further from Chiang Rai. I couldn't recall the very details of it all, but the image of those hungry, skinny kids pestering the tourists for money still live vividly in my mind. Underdeveloped. Poor. Uneducated. My protective parents would have never agreed to this solo trip in a million years, but then again, I insisted it is my life and I am the one who has to live with it. The glory, the regrets, the whole shebang. My dad spent thousands upon thousands of his savings to bring us somewhere every year since I was three. Apart from the idea of having family time, I believe ultimately, he wanted his children to be open to the world. And that, is exactly what I am doing now.

"Welcome to Laos!", text from Seth reminded me I have finally made it here, all two hours and thirty minutes of wonder. Wondering what on earth all these older Malaysian men doing in Vientiane?? The flight was full. Business? Pleasure? The sinful kind? They sure weren't in Laos for the nature! I snorted at the thought of them in their jeans and belly popping out, on bikes cycling through the lust green. I headed out of the airport and went to the money changer. I was kip-less. Being handed almost four hundred thousands worth of notes, I stood at the arrival hall, baffled. Not like I haven't dealt with the idea of being a millionaire (been there done that in Indonesia), but kip notes are confusing! They have the numerical print on one side, and another side has the same but in Lao... Check out the pics and you get what I mean. 

I tried to suppress the annoyance and helpless feelings of being a toddler, which I always feel when I land in a new country. So, at nine in the morning, you have this 5 feet 3 young little thing in a phase of trance, standing in the hall, not knowing what to do or where to go. "Taxi?", I snapped out of my trance, and looked at the person with the warm Thai-like accent. "Can you tell me where I get a bus to Vang Vieng?" The lady looked at me, quiet, and then shook her head, "No, no bus here. Go central. Bus." I asked her for the cost of a taxi to the "central" that she was referring to, "57,000kip" was her answer. Is that expensive? Well you normally pay about RM 80 from airport to town.. Is this "taxi" THE tuk-tuk as mentioned in the Lonely Planet guide?? Do they even have tuk-tuk that service the airport? I hadn't a clue! While I was doing the conversion of what was 57,000kip in real money, the lady at the counter was talking to a few men leaning close to the counter. I picked up words like Vang Vieng and nothing else. As I always say, money buy you experience. 

Clumsily handed the woman the money needed, I walked to the taxi with the driver. Ah. So. Taxi was a sedan car, decorated in a cream white tone much like my dad's car in the 80s. It took about less than 15 mins before he pulled over in front of a line of tuk-tuks. "That bus go Vang Vieng.", he said and pointed to a few guys standing by the tuk-tuks. I was, speechless. Did I get con or something? No way in hell I was getting on those tuk-tuks for 4 hours to get to Vang Vieng.

I got off the taxi anyway, and one of the guys approached me with what seemed to be a receipt book on his hand. "Vang Vieng?" I nodded with skepticism and asked him how much. He said "80,000kip." Close to the cost as suggested by Tripadvisor. Oh what the hell, I was still practically sleep-walking and perhaps it wasn't these tuk-tuks but air-conditioned bus that I was reading about. I sealed the deal, only with kips but not a spit and handshake. They showed me to a wooden bench behind the tuk-tuk and told me to wait for about 15minutes.

In between conversation about the beautiful Malaysia with those lovely Laotians, a bigger tuk-tuk stopped right in front of us. "This bring you to Vang Vieng." God, you must be kidding with me! I was discomfited. I was con. As they hustled me, I just picked up my rucksack and hopped on. There were about eight Koreans, and an Asian looking couple (which I found out later they were Laotian) on board of the tuk-tuk. The tuk-tuk drove a bit more and made another stop for one more passenger. Another Asian. We sat quietly, watching the sceneries passed us by, feeling like we have been sold! Or at least that was running through my mind. Ah well, didn't you say you want to experience the local way's of transportation? Well here you go! A second later, my inner voice was muted, as it started to drizzle! 4 hours of this? Gonna be awesome, not!

Not too sure how long it took, but the tuk-tuk slowed down and drove off the highway into a gated compound with seemingly some busses parked. Perhaps I was like my ex used to say, no good in hiding my thoughts and emotions. The Laotian lady saw my lost expression and she was kind enough to enlighten me to the fact that we weren't con, or sold, but the fare we paid included transport to THE bus station and we were going on a proper bus to Vang Vieng afterall. Oh, silly me, acting like a first time traveller... or backpacker, which, I was. Anyway, a huge air-conditioned bus! At long last! I went inside the bus station and grabbed some water and snacks, prep-ed and ready to endure the next 4hours journey.

There were all these oohh and aahh on the Tripadvisor about the scenic view on the journey from Vientiane to Vang Vieng and I was really excited! But bollacks, I ended up sleeping most of the way to Vang Vieng. There goes the excitement, NOT! We arrived in Vang Vieng late afternoon and were dropped off in the middle of town, made up of several rows of shops and hostels. I headed to the hotel that I have booked online and was surprised to be greeted by a white three storey bungalow. It was a lovely little getaway run by a Singaporean who had two strokes in his life and decided to move to slow pace Laos with his Thai wife. When I checked-in, Michael told me it was the perfect weather to go tubing, I nodded and happily obliged while he tucked a dry bag in my hand and hurried me out the door.

The tubing office was not far from my hotel. According to Michael, tubing used to be available in every hotel by the riverside of Vang Vieng but the government has taken a stern measure when more and more accidents of tourists being killed during tubing in Vang Vieng hit the newspaper. I paid for my tube and hopped on the truck with a group of German travellers. When we got dropped off upstream, the Germans hit the first bar they could find and I was happy to wave them goodbye. It felt really tranquil floating on the river and let the current took me for an adventure. When I reached a turn, there was a simple bamboo hut built on a hill where I saw a few figures waving at me, signalling me to stop for a drink. I did and met two lovely people from down under. We met up that night for dinner and had a somewhat flabbergasting discussion about what is Thai food and what is Laotian food. I have tried the Laotian's rendition of papaya salad with sticky rice, but truthfully, Som Tam is still best left with the Thais.

I think it was going to rain.. 

George was it? The one who looked like terrorist if he hadn't spoken with his aussie accent! 

I spent the rest of the journey in Vang Vieng kayaking on the lovely Nam Song, exploring unique water caves and cycling through the beauteous villages. The blue lagoon pitstop was especially worth mentioning. The water was not turquoise blue as expected as it rained the day before. Still a captivating sight, don't get me wrong. But what intrigued me more than anything else was the group of Korean men and two young Laotian ladies. They were fooling around, drinking beer, summersaulting from the tree branch, turning the pool into a blithe playground. Sounded alright. Yes. Problem was, they did not speak the same language. The Laotian ladies definitely did not apply for a job with "Korean speaking" as a mandatory requirement. However, the language barrier did not stop them from enjoying each other's company. I thought it was riveting for me, the pure natural laughters.



People watching was such as big part of my journey. The fact that Vang Vieng is such a small town, you end up seeing the same faces every where you venture. The same group of Koreans that travelled from Vientiane to Vang Vieng with me, joined me for some kayaking fun.

The Travelling Rat!

Guys,

I am in Australia now and going to so many places that I even forgot what I had for breakfast this morning! 

I am not finding excuses to not update my blog, simply saying that a quicker way to track down my movement is to follow me on Instagram! Find me, add me @ Jagsnumpty!

Can't get anymore Australian than this - Kangaroo steak with Bundaberg Ginger Beer!

Ta!! 

Jagsy