Applying for a Russian visa is best described I think, as a hoohah (for those of you not familiar with the term, Webster’s dictionary defines it as “a disturbance: a disorderly outburst or tumult e.g. ”they were amazed by the furious disturbance it had caused, what a hoohah”). And amazed I was because Russia would like to see you jump through hoops, while juggling fire, and possibly riding a unicycle, so unlikely as it may sound, that is exactly what I did.

First you need to work out an itinerary, Russia isn’t interested in going with the flow, they want to know what you’re up to, every minute of everyday, so get a map and guide book and make a plan. The people at www.realrussia.co.uk are mighty helpful and very capable when it comes to answering queries about train times and all that jazz. They also have the benefit of offices in Moscow and St. Petersburg so they really do have their ears to the frosty Siberian ground and can give you some accurate estimates of travel time and price. Obviously once the visa has been issued you have a little more freedom but the consulate doesn’t reward laziness so just make a plan; places to visit and stay, things to do, trains to catch and don’t forget to factor in insanely long train rides in between destinations.

Then you have to score yourself an invite. The Ruskies don’t want any old riff raff galavanting around their fair state, after all you might well be a 007 esque, exploding watch type spy of some description. So play the game and take your self to www.myrussianvisa.com or www.visatorussia.com and apply for an official invite. These can only be issued by registered travel agents each of whom has a unique tour operator code which will appear on your invite. This part is relatively painless and will only set you back aournd 20 quid for a standard issue 30 day tourist visa, which is normally emailed to you within a couple of days. You can ask to have a hard copy posted to you for an extra 45 quid but my advise is to simply print the document straight from the PDF, it should print out on one page so make sure it comes out as it appears on screen because the consulate won’t look kindly on any dodgy comic sands font or borders falling off the page!

So now you’ve got an invite you can bask in the joy of reading your name in cool Cyrillic letters, and gather your strength to apply for the visa itself. Some of the online agents can apply for the visa on your behalf and although this is tempting it is usually twice the price of applying directly to the consulate. Do not be afraid, anyone can do it so long as you read the document carefully and maybe complete it in with a pencil first. Fill in all the fields and check in the instructions which will come with the application as many forms ask that you ‘N/A’ any questions with do not apply to your circumstance e.g. please list any relatives you have in the Russian Federation. You will also be asked fill in your invite number and travel insurance policy number (remember to take hard copy of these with you to the border as they may be asked for).

So that’s it, now all you have to do is wait anxiously for 3 weeks while someone has your adventure, and your passport in their hands. Depending on your nearest consulate you might drop the application off in person, or send it along with a prepaid return envelope (I would recommend registered post, a little more expensive but it will save you a fortune on manicures after all that nervous nail biting). Despite the aforementioned fire juggling my application was fairly painless. Just get organised, be patient and you’ll be laughing all the way to the Kremlin.

Image courtesy of quinnanya

Last time I wrote a big fat mammoth post I was grappling with the harsh reality of re-entering the modern world after a brief spell as a barefoot, pig farming wife in Tonga, and an ever shorter spell of being a hardcore, fish catching, shark wrestling sailor in Fiji.

But the delights of Big Bald Bob and his teeny tiny speedos, or limbo competitions and serious snorkel action in a tropical paradise are far behind me now, and I am once again well versed in the joys of safe tap water and double beds. Today I face the prospect of making the even harder transition from straight hair, high heels and cocktails to bare feet, dorm rooms and carrying my evil monster backpack.

In short, I’ve been so busy being fabulous in Sydney that I have gone a bit soft. My wrists are free from beaded shell accessories, I don’t even own an anklet and frankly, my pedicured feet are just too damned pretty to go without some sort of silk slipper at the very least.

But before we tackle that bad boy let’s take a look at what the bejesus I’ve been doing with myself for the last 9 months. Well, after suffering a sequence of small seizures due to things like shopping centres, dress codes, and rush hour traffic, I pulled myself together, like the proverbial drawstring on the duffel bag of life, and got involved in some serious city living.

I got a job, in a pub, and I worked really hard, but it was fun, and I accidentally don’t have much to show for it! That’s because I simultaneously rediscovered the pleasure of frivolous consumer living; skinny jeans, live music, clubs, pubs and delicious cheese from the deli counter. I went to the beach…a lot, and broke a world record for the most number of people floating on inflatable flip flops on Bondi beach.

Sydney was a blast, and that is why I accidentally lived there for 9 months. But lately I’ve been sort of thinking about contemplating maybe missing England a bit, it has been almost two years after all so I decided it was about time I got back on the road.

I have decided to undertake the last leg of my trip not by sea, but by land, and believe me this overland adventure is going to be a beauty! Although I normally like to (not) fly by the seat of pants this one requires a little more on the organisation front, especially since I will officially be going behind the iron curtain, into a world of scary scary vodka swilling Russians.

So I’ve been busy looking at maps and calendars and have devised an all-mighty plan that should see me home in early October for a great big party of monumental proportions with candy floss, and a big band, and a ticker tape parade, maybe even a lion tamer, you’re all invited…sweet! But before I get carried away with that I have to tackle the small challenge of getting all the way from Singapore to the UK, and once again get used to sweating profusely while lugging my backpack around unfamiliar cities and battling foreign transport systems.

Having said that, it would be pretty sweet to move at an incredibly chilled pace all the time, and here at Loco2 we are all about extolling the benefits of that kind of approach to life. It is exactly this subject that is being tackled at the forthcoming ‘Slow down London’ event, taking place in a week’s time on 29th April at the Southbank Centre.

The event features the legendary Ed Gillespie of slow travel fame in conversation with a Financial Times journalist who writes the ’slow lane’ column (which I must admit I’ve never read but I’m sure it’s great). Tickets cost £7.50 and can be bought from directly from Slow Down London. I should be going along so if you are too and would like to meet up to talk about Loco2 or anything else slow travel-related, then feel free get in touch.

The event is part of a wider initiative that is encouraging Londoners to generally slow down. What a marvellous idea.

With so many great festivals out there, it’s hard to know where to start; do I go for Eastern European madness at EXIT, a sunsplash in italy, or naked Scandinavians at Roskilde? What a dilemma!

Whilst the people, the music and the sun-to-rain-ratio are all major factors affecting my decision, what I would really love most of all is to lose myself in the music, and happily dance away all day and night with the knowledge that the organisers were doing as much as possible to reduce the environmental impact of the festival.

So dearest Loco2 friends, here’s the low-down on my top Green Festivals 2009.

I think I might just have to go to all three!!

WOOD, Oxfordshire UK
15th - 17th May 2009

I would strongly recommend the second annual WOOD festival which takes place on the 15th, 16th and 17th May 2009 in the beautiful surroundings of Braziers Park, Oxfordshire.

They’re a funny bunch - so I’ve left the WOOD gang to persuade you to partake in all things woody themselves:

The organisers behind TRUCK festival, the UK’s coolest small-but-perfectly-formed summer festival, have created a new kind of music event, powered by bicycles, wood-burning stoves and the sun. The aim of the festival is to celebrate music and nature, so naturally it’s called… WOOD!

We should say ‘here’s the first purpose-designed green–eco-sustainable festival’ but we’d sound like ‘Dave’ Cameron - we prefer to keep things simple, natural and… woody. Things made of WOOD include the composting toilets, the showers heated by wood-burning stoves, the campfire, the guitars, the yurts (yes, you can hire one) and, of course, the solar-powered stage. The food will be cooked (by our friends from Oxford’s famous Vaults & Garden Café) in a wood-fired oven, and we’re making all the performers do a song by our patron saint Woody Guthrie.

As well as a strong and diverse line-up of (mainly) acoustic acts on 2 stages, there will be opportunities for everyone (from children to grandparents!) to participate, with workshops covering singing, woodcraft, making wallets from orange juice cartons, and everything inbetween.

Artists already confirmed include:
SPIERS & BODEN, MEIC STEVENS, PO’ GIRL, JIM MORAY, DANNY THE CHAMP, STORNOWAY, JONQUIL, CO-PILGRIM with plenty more still to be announced.

For more info and tickets visit the WOOD website.

ROSKILDE, Denmark
2nd - 5th July 2009

Roskilde Festival is on a par with Glastonbury as one of Europe’s biggest festivals, but adds a very naked Danish twist to festivities. This may also be the only festival in Europe where you can dance in the shadow of a giant wind turbine and camp in a carbon neutral camping area. Excellent.

Winner of the Green World Award in 2008, the Green’n’Clean award in 2007 and a Microsoft Excellence Award in 2008 for an electronic system for collection of festival garbage Roskilde has always had a strong environmental focus. And they’ve most definitely cranked it up for Roskilde 2009 with a campaign called Green Footsteps.

Green Footsteps focuses on how Roskilde Festival can shoulder their part of the responsibility for solving the potential climate catastrophe. Part of the Green Footsteps campaign is the creation of a Climate Community at Roskilde ’09.The Climate Community is a centrally located camping quarter primarily running on CO2-neutral energy. The energy will be generated thanks to the festival-goers’ efforts, e.g. through pedalling on energy-producing bicycles and ditto dance floors - as well as from renewable energy sources. To reserve yourself a camping spot in this area you must leave 3 Green Footsteps - low carbon travel to Roskilde ’09 will leave you 1. The second can be left by supporting windmills in Malawi when you buy your ticket and the third is left down to your imagination!

As well as a climate caravan tour, a sustainable stage, and a humanitarian refund collection for Bangladesh, Roskilde will be leaving their own Green Footsteps to reduce the greenhouse gas-emitting activities.

* We a doing a CO2 account so that all emission from Roskilde Festival can be calculated.
* In the energy section, we are looking into the possibility of buying windmill power and getting generators running on vegetable oil or solar energy instead of diesel.
* We are working on having more “in-season”, locally produced food as it is more climate-friendly. Furthermore, production of meat is climate-damaging, so we are also looking at increased promotion of vegetarian food (however, the meat eaters need not to worry – it is always a matter of choice).
* We are also working on recycling as much garbage as possible, so that we can reduce incineration and the following CO2 emission.

For travel to Roskilde see our low carbon travel itinerary here.

ELECTRIC PICNIC, Ireland
4th - 6th September 2009

Electric Picnic is the best festival in Ireland to be sure. Easily rivalling the slightly larger Oxegen, it is imaginatively structured and has a strong personality. We can’t think of a better way to end the summer.

Winner of the ‘Green Festival Award’ 2008, the Electric Picnic has always had a strong environmental focus but this year the gloves are off to tackle the festival’s impact on Climate Change.

A new area, the Global Green, is being launched at this year’s festival which will be the place to relax and reflect on critical issues. The Global Green will feature Cultivate’s Re-Think Tank, Amnesty’s tea and bingo tent, sustainable fashion with Re-dress the Science Gallery and more, Trocaire’s flower garden, Friends of the Earth, green crafts, EmissionZero, Stop Climate Chaos, Change and others will be creatively communicating a positive message and help get you active.

Aiding Electric picnic to ‘Eco-Librium’ are environmental consultants EmissionZero who will measure, reduce and offset the carbon emitted as a result of the picnic. Over the course of the festival, the eco-consultants will be analysing all sources of CO2 in order to reduce emissions and maximise energy efficiency. EmissionZero aim to reduce the Picnic’s Carbon Footprint by 25% over the next five years.

For travel to the Electric Picnic see our low carbon travel itinerary here.

Green Grass photo on homepage thanks to Chad Johnson.
WOOD logo thanks to Chris Bennet from TRUCK.

If you haven’t already checked out their site I would recommend doing so. It includes lots of excellent ideas on how to live sustainably, presented through the medium of short, amusing videos.

And for those of you (like me) getting rather depressed about the fact that it looks like voting Tory at the next election might be a good idea, I raise a glass to you, and I’m sure that during 2009 we can help each other deal with the blues (the blues. Get it? Chortle chortle I am a comedy genius).

Only joking! As if I’d refer to myself in such terms. But that is pretty much what the Observer did when they featured Loco2 over the weekend as part of their ‘Bright Young Stars of Travel for 2009′ feature. You can read the article here. It reveals a bit about what we’ve got planned for Loco2 in the coming year, plus spurs us into action to actually get the work done.

If you’ve stumbled across Loco2 recently and you like what you see, please do share Loco2 with your friends (you can use the ShareThis button below) so that we can continue to build momentum. Thanks!

Tintin on the Pacific

As I type this the laptop screen rocks slowly back and forth with metronomic regularity, swaying in time with the desk, the floor and the entire room.

I gaze out of the window in front of me to take in the view: mighty waves slipping by; crests breaking; clouds drifting across an azure sky. And endless, endless water, stretching to the horizon and far beyond.

It’s not the most typical of sights. But then isn’t the most typical of surroundings. We are on a boat in the middle of the Pacific Ocean.

Having travelled most of the 21,000 miles we have covered so far by land (with the odd ferry thrown in ) we now take to the water, hitching a ride for 15 days aboard a container ship bound for LA, from the far east of the Pacific to the far west.

The Pacific Ocean - the very words conjure up images of ambition and adventure, it’s a byword for the exotic, the far-flung, the unknown. The neon-lit waters of Hong Kong harbour to the to the surf-bound coast of California - sounds far more interesting then Chek Lap Kok to LAX.

No identikit airports and long, dismal queues, no leg-crunching seats and foul, plastic food. No predictable movies or no 9/11 paranoia, no screaming babies or snoring adults.

Just the two of us and a few crew on a big boat. On an enormous blue ocean. With no land for days.

My primal fears still to stir inside. Drowning, shipwreck, seasickness, scary monsters in the depths below and ferocious storms in the skies above.

Too late.

We’ve hauled the anchors now, cast off the ropes. We’re heading out into the unknown, the unquantified, the unpredictable. There’s no way out at sea. No one can hear you scream…

Deep breath.

Take a look at our surroundings. It’s palatial!

As the only passengers we’ve been given the owner’s cabin - a bedroom, large living room and en-suite.There’s a TV, DVD and Hi-fi, plus a fridge, a desk and large sofa. 15 days in which we can live out of cupboards and drawers rather than the cramped confines of a smelly old rucksack.

No dodgy Chinese wiring here, no leaking toilet or dripping taps, no filthy sheets or cacophonous street sounds. Just a gentle hum from the engine, and the steady rock of the ocean. There’s a laundry and mess room, where we dine with the officers. Three hot meals a day, served to us at our own table. There’s a a small gym, with exercise bike, weights machine, table tennis and darts board. There’s a sauna for Lara and even a mini swimming pool.

We’re are treated as honoured guests: the officers go out of their way to guide us around; the crew invite us to sing karaoke (I wisely turned down), play basketball (I was resolutely thrashed) and ping pong (ditto).

In between eating and fraternising we doze on the deck, stretched out on sun loungers or dip into the boat’s impressive DVD collection.

All the time we little moving world sways gently around, sometimes placid, sometimes vigorous.

This can present certain challenges: how to eat soup in a swell for one, and how to sleep when the boat’s rolling and pitching.

Other challenges lie ahead no doubt, but in the meantime I admire another sunset and gaze at the horizon.

I feel like Tintin, my hero, the daring young reporter.

He regularly set off on his adventures by boat, where exciting events would take place: Snowy would get attacked by a shark; Thompsons would wear old-fashioned bathing costumes and Captain Haddock would invariably get drunk on whisky.

And always there was some shady type on board, a stowaway, or a crooked crew member, usually a shifty Balkan-looking type with crossed eyebrows and a dodgy ‘tasche.

Best keep an eye out. After all, anything can happen at sea.

Wednesday

Whenever we lose track of days we usually find it is Wednesday. On this Wednesday we were given an extra day; Wednesday 3rd December 2008 literally happened twice.

The first third of December started like most others on this ship - the alarm went off at 07:45, with breakfast at 08:00. We have recently discovered porridge on the menu, which makes a refreshing change from the fried meat of the last week. It was a warm, sunny day with a large roll factor. The rolliest we had experienced so far which made doing everything either an uphill or downhill struggle that eventually got the better of my digestive system. The swell was in fact so strong that the front of the ship was damaged, but the ship ploughed on.

I went through the usual routine of writing in the morning, eating at midday, reading and snoozing in the sun after lunch followed by yoga and the exercise bike before dinner at 17:45. The regular evening DVD screening was Son of Rambow (****½) and Bobby (***).

At 22:30 we crossed the International Date Line, 180° longitude, and the day started again. So when we woke we opened the second third of December window on our World in Slow Motion advent calendar.

It has taken tins of peanuts, circling torches, diagrams and protracted discussions with the Navigator for me to understand why my life will always now be a day longer than stated on the calendar. It’s something to do with standardising time so that night is always dark and day is always light the world over and so that everyone is living the same day as in Greenwich, London. But perhaps more importantly, every step eastwards is now a step closer to home.

The second third of December began like the first. Alarm at 07:45, porridge at 08:00. It was cloudier and windier than the first third of December but the nauseating rocking had subsided. Everything carried on pretty much like it had the first time round except that the reading and snoozing took place indoors as there was no sun.

After the gym the day took an unexpected turn. A note on a chair inviting me to take a stroll to the bow was followed by games in Morse code and signal flags. Then I was led to the edge of boat where surrounded by nothing but Pacific Ocean on three sides Tom got down on one knee and popped the question. I took my chances and said yes.

That evening we celebrated with the Filipino crew who gave us Spanish brandy, a serenade of George Michael and sang love songs to us on the karaoke machine. The German Captain shared his private stash of Nutella with us. You can’t beat that for history repeating itself.

You can read past blog entries here.

Loco2 would like to say a huge CONGRATULATIONS to Lara and Tom on their engagement!

…Our adventure began with the desire to be the change we wish to see in the world. Our passion for a safe climate future motivated us all to try a low carbon approach to traveling to this year’s climate talks and the journey was a great success!

Our main objectives were:

* to show the difficulties of low carbon travel in our current system, but that it is possible

* to connect with the global south and an interconnected youth movement who will be central to the global transition to a just future

* to utilise the media in education and inspiration

What’s more, we achieved…

* an enormous reduction in our greenhouse gas emissions by choosing not to fly, of 40% in total from door to door (this includes the flights to get to Singapore - the reduction would have been much greater without).

* we learnt how to organise overland travel

* and we experienced an adventure as a team, which no airline can provide, connecting with the people and the environments of every country from Australia to Poland.

We recognised that it was idealistic and ambitious, but that is what we, the youth, do best.

Before we started, I was very concerned with the value of our trip. I had great concerns about the time it would take to travel and to organise, the financial strain, our ability to deliver our message and the responsiveness of audiences. What’s more, my friends and family in my immediate community, who I rely on for support, provided me with a mixture of encouragement and discouragement. Some responses included, “Of course, I can’t do that,” and “Just catch a plane.” I questioned the real value of what we were doing. Some even said it was “crazy.” In all honestly, I very nearly pulled out. Looking back now, I am glad I left Brisbane on a bus.

The trip was long and at times it seemed strange that it would stop. We traveled nearly 23,500 kilometres for over 40 days through 11 countries, 10 border crossings, using 8 trains, 4 buses, 6 different visas, a few taxis, a few tuk-tuks, 10 bags, and a lot more books.

It was a terrific experience, unlike the piecemeal and relatively disconnected way I had traveled previously. For the first time, the world really felt like a continuous flow of people, environments and cultures. The cities were buzzing, the rural landscape was largely being cultivated - I sensed the earth as alive with human activity.

When we arrived, we were welcomed first by our other members of our delegation, those who had flown out of Australia, and I wondered if there was a meaningful difference between me and them. I was praised and congratulated, but I didn’t feel like I had earnt it, nor that I meant to. When we met other youth delegations at the Conference of Youth in the days leading up to COP14, the praise continued and so many people asked me how my experiences were, but frankly, I was surprised they were so impressed. I did not feel any distinction between myself and the other youth delegates that could explain the extra attention.

This morning, at the International Youth Meeting of COP14 on Wednesday the 3rd, held for the first time in an official function room, another youth delegate shared her pride in the youth caucus for having Australian delegates who had done the necessary journey overland. She had attended a transport conference the previous day, where the main speaker acknowledged that all the delegates present had flown to Poland. The main speaker went on to say that no-one would catch a train from Australia, with an assumed air of authority, when the youth delegate present spoke out. “Uh, Actually, we have 5 Australian youth delegates who made the journey overland. It took them 40 days and they are now here at COP14.” According to her report back to the international youth meeting, the transportation conference broke out into applause and amazement. She said that the speaker wants to meet us and assist us with media and funding in returning, overland, to COP15.

The great unknown delegates to the UN climate talks had applauded us. On hearing this it dawned on me that I had changed whilst on the surface journey. Before I left, I was skeptical too. My community was uninterested and my doubts dominated my plans. But my outlook has changed. I now feel differently. The journey was not hard, it was easy and fun; It was more aligned with my wish for a safe climate future; I can share it with others and I will do it again. The paradigm I was working within has changed and I was lucky enough to observe that. Everyone knows that it starts at the individual level. I now feel more empowered to enact my agency for change.

Nic Seton at Poznan UN Climate talks.

P.S. There are now plans for a ‘Copenhagen Convergence’ where 500+ may travel overland and oversea to the UN next year, from all nations around the globe.

You can read past blog entries here.

First of all, a rather obvious point, but one worth bearing in mind: if you’re travelling via Brussels and you want to see some of the city (maybe to get an evening meal), make sure that you leave longer than three hours between trains. We only had a couple of hours, and had to settle for eating in the rather ugly and uninspiring district that the station sits in.

On the night train to Berlin there were nine of us from UKYD travelling together, and we sat in a cabin drinking from a shared bottle of whisky. Inevitably given the purpose of our trip, and the common theme that tied us all together, conversation quickly descended into a full-blown and wide-ranging debate about climate change, and how realistic our efforts in dealing with it are. This isn’t the place for that discussion, but if you’re interested, read my other blog and the main UKYD site.

When we got to Berlin the group split, with some going immediately on to Poznan, whilst myself and a few others explored the city. The central station is within easy walking distance of the main city centre, and I suggested that we join a walking tour that I had done last time I was in the city.

Berlin is absolutely brimming with fascinating cultural and historical knowledge, and the guides at the Free Berlin tour are excellent at conveying it (they aren’t paying me to write this!). Because of our limited time we were only able to catch 90 mins of the 3 and a half hour tour and when we said goodbye to the Amercian-Bulgarian guide I was touched by his humility and felt that we had had a truly human experience – taking people around monuments to Holocaust victims, the place where Hitler’s body was burnt, and the site of a Communist massacre is not a job to be taken light-heartedly. Going on the tour really brought home the value of cultrual interaction, and how imporrtant it is that we keep learning about each other, especially as we localise our economies and reduce emissions from travel.

In the evening I went for dinner with my friend Ellie in a marvelous jazz club. I need to go out to more jazz and blues and I wish there were more places like that in London. Another friend of Ellie’s who was with us made the apt observation that people in Berlin behave more like ‘provincial people’ than city-dwellers, despite the size of the city, and the community atmosphere was very evident as drinkers enjoyed the live music.

I’m now in Poznan, and I’m going to make a rather crass observation: everyone on the train looked like they were from the eighties. I’ll write again on my way back.

]]> http://www.loco2travel.com/2008/12/04/en-route-to-poznan/feed/ http://www.loco2travel.com/2008/12/02/world-in-slow-motion-4/ http://www.loco2travel.com/2008/12/02/world-in-slow-motion-4/#comments Tue, 02 Dec 2008 17:09:37 +0000 Rosa http://www.loco2travel.com/?p=136 While Lara and Tom are sailing across the Pacific to the USA, out of touch from the world-wide-web and in touch with the big-wide-world, we visit South-East Asia through their eyes for the last time. To keep us going in their absence they have provided us with a ‘Dos and Don’ts guide to South-East Asia’, but first we hit the tracks from Hue to Hanoi.

Hue to Hanoi: letting the train take the strain

In Hue we elected to tackle the next leg of our route by train. We were looking forward to getting back onto the rails again, rather than onto yet another bone-rattling, leg-twisting, ironically-named ‘sleeper bus’.

The photojournalist Tim Page, who’s rattled along a few Vietnamese railways in his time, puts this better than me:

Train travel allows the mind to wander, the eyes not really focusing on the passing countryside, the heady clackety rhythm becoming white noise, a mere sound tapestry to meditate upon…On a train you actually have a sense of getting somewhere, denied the traveller sealed in an aluminium tube zooming across the sky.

Inside the small dusty waiting room, we occupied an entire row of flimsy plastic seats, our enormous bags dwarfing the slender locals hemmed in around them. I poked my head around the door to glance at the platform: it was uncomfortably quiet, hardly a soul moved, let alone a train.

As the minutes ticked by and the time dragged well past our designated departure time. Still no train.

The locals seemed unconcerned, dozing in the seats, nonchalantly sipping green tea and gazing at the traffic outside.

Finally, 50 minutes later it was action stations: a guard stirred, a tinny loudspeaker croaked out some kind of announcement and we were allowed onto the platform. People plus baggage began shuffling onto the platform. Hardly a great swarm of people like you’d have to contend with in China, more a trickle of the unhurried.

A group of men crouched down on the platform, lay a battered old briefcase on its side and immediately started playing cards. They fingered their dirty old dong notes whilst others crowded around, watching the gamblers.

A young couple strolled up and settled down on the bench next to us, resuming the cooing they had been so rudely interrupted from back in the waiting room.

And still no train.

I began to wonder what it could be that was causing such a severe delay. Mexican bandits? The wrong type of snow? Richard Branson?

Finally, an hour later than scheduled, the noise level seemed to pick up, passengers stirred and, to much whistling both from its driver and the sundry guards on the platform, a train appeared, its headlights piercing through the descending gloom.

The dusty green carriages hauled up in front of us, the grimy windows obscuring the interior. We quickly boarded, hauling our bulky loads through the narrow corridors as the rabble pressed up eagerly behind us.

Peering into our cabin we found it already occupied: a large family, big enough to fill a small village stared back at us, their grubby kids sprawled all over the beds. Cue frantic hand signals and pointing at beds and tickets before finally the guard came along and turfed these stubborn train gypsies out.

Although ‘soft sleeper’, our cabin didn’t quite live up to our expectations: it held six beds rather than four, crammed in so that each bed had about two and half foot of space between it and the one above. Grimacing as I adopted a contortionist pose I squeezed my slim frame into a bunk at the top, hauling my pack up behind me.

There was a jolt, and we started moving: ten hours through the night to the capital.

A short night, abruptly ended at 5.30am. Raised voices, doors slamming, a knock at our door: we’d arrived. Hanoi.

The Dos and Don’ts of South East Asia

Sun, sweat and scooters; trains, temples and tours; bananas, buses and lager. The tourist infrastructure in Vietnam, Cambodia, Thailand and Laos turns traveling into a wonderful holiday. However, alongside the tourist trade come touts and tricksters to be wary of. So to supplement your Lonely Planet/Rough Guide (delete as appropriate) here are World in Slow Motion’s top tips for S.E. Asia:

Do:

- Take a sheet sleeping bag. There is a curious lack of bedding in these parts.
- Carry plenty of U.S. dollars cash. They are a useful back-up and the currency of choice in Cambodia.
- Drink bia hoi on plastic chairs in the street in Vietnam. 20p for a glass of draught lager.
- Drink fruity drink and coconuts with a straw. You can spot a fruity drink stall by the glasses of chopped fruit to which condensed milk, coconut milk and balls of sticky rice are added and served with crushed ice.
- Eat amok. This creamy Cambodian curry is the among the best food in SE Asia.
- Take the sleeper bus. A bus with beds is a sight to behold and an experience not to be missed, but don’t expect to have a good kip.
- Have a massage at Seeing Hands in Siem Reap or Phnom Penh. These blind masseurs know what to do.
- Help out at Big Brother Mouse. Either chat with the children in English or buy one of their books to help promote literacy in Laos.
- Get up early to see monks collect alms at sunrise, a special sight in Luang Prabang, Laos.
- Go to the flag lowering ceremony in Hanoi, Vietnam. A triumphal affair every night at 9pm at the Ho Chi Minh memorial.
- Learn to say “no thank you” in the local language to keep the hawkers and touts at bay.
- Stay at Golden Temple Villa in Siem Reap. Excellent value and unlimited free bananas make it a winner.
- Stay at Hong Thien Hotel II, 46 Chi Van An Street, in Hue, Vietnam. Tien at reception is very helpful, but don’t book a Halong Bay tour through them (see below).

Don’t:

- Stay at Greenfields in Hoi An, Vietnam. Poor value and dreadful service.
- Rely on your guidebook for accommodation and eating recommendations. Use the Web, get tips from others and explore by yourself to find some real gems.
- Go on a Halong Bay, Vietnam, tour with Tuan Linh travel agency. These tours are sold through Kim Adventures and various hostels in Hanoi. The boat is broken and the guides lousy. If your boat is called the Duy Tan Junk 02, don’t get on it. Electricity is intermittent and the motor may give out.
- Use the travel services at Victory Queen Hotel (formerly Old Darling Hotel), Hanoi, Vietnam. They take a whopping commission without telling you.
- Buy shoes at Cham H’Mong, 495 C’ua Dai Street, Hoi An, Vietnam. They fall apart within hours.
- Buy your Cambodian visa at the ‘Cambodian Consulate’ in Aranya Prathet, Cambodia, it’s a scam. Buy it at the desk once you’re through Thai immigration.
- Take any price as given - accommodation, food, things - all are up for negotiation. Pay what you think is fair.
- Sleep at the back of a sleeper bus. The bounce prevents sleep.
- Lose your temper with a local. If you cause someone to lose their temper they will lose face and make your life very uncomfortable as they try to regain it.
- Expect a peaceful sunrise at Angkor Wat, Siem Reap. You will be joined by hundreds of tourists all jostling for the same perfect sun-rises-over-ancient-temple photo.
- Wear shorts and sandals in Khao Yai National Park, Thailand. The leeches will eat you for breakfast.

We are sailing…

So, farewell Asia.

After four months on the road and rails across this mighty continent, from the low mountains of the Urals to the warm waters of the South China Sea, we will finally bidding a farewell to this huge, diverse chunk of the planet.

Tomorrow we set off into new waters…literally. For the next two weeks our new home will be the CMA CGM Hugo, a container ship sailing across the Pacific Ocean, from Hong Kong to Long Beach, USA.

Beyond the ocean lie the delights of another continent: North America?

But first we have the small matter of a large pond to cross.

Laying my trusty Michelin out last night I realised that the Pacific covers a good third of the planet. It’s going to be a long and (hopefully) fascinating voyage.

See you on the other side…

You can read past blog entries here.