Ode to the Western Loo

I really miss a flushing loo,
A place to sit and ponder too.
Squatting to wee really isn't nice
'Specially on a diet of curry and rice.
Your feet get covered in slime and grime
The toilets here should be considered a crime.
And pail flushes - what are they about?
Throwing water down the loo makes us want to shout -
"We'd really like some toilet paper
Not this water hose caper".
So all-in-all, Asia toilets are poo
And trust us, that is certainly not what you want to do!

Deep Diving in Sunny Koh Phangan

After recovering from the Full Moon party, we started our PADI Advanced Open Water diving course with Buddha View Dive School. With an instructor who was a dead ringer for George Cloony (Beth was obviously still halluicinating from the Full Moon Party - Steve), the time on deck between dives was most aesthetically pleasing (for Beth anyway). Unfortunately day one of the course could not have the same said about the underwater sights with visibility at only two metres - our first ever 30 metre dive was a gloomy prospect. Beth cheered up proceedings however when she suffered slightly with nitrogen narcosis in the deep, unable to complete simple mathematical subtractions she had done in seconds back on the boat. After pirouetting like a ballerina for a couple of minutes she started to ascend with 'George' and Steve in tow laughing into their regulators. Despite the poor visibility we could tell that Sail Rock, one of the premier dive sites on the east coast of Thailand, would be indeed beautiful with clear conditions. The second day was better off Koh Ma island and Mae Haad beach and after a stunning hour long dive through coral gardens and amongst tropically coloured fish (including the 'cleaner' fish who kept licking Steve's wounded little tow with his anti-bacterial tongue), we passed the course to become advanced divers ready for our first deep fun-dive in Vietnam.

Our last night at Haad Grauud resort with the lovely James and Natasha involved much hilarity with charades and other party games that can only be done properly after at least two bottles of the extremely strong Chang beer (6.4%). The Thai staff once again took Beth under their wing and plastered the crushed cumion all over her face much to Steve's disgust as she had to wear it all night. The only downer on the evening was of course our pending goodbye to Natasha and James but also an extremely drunk 50-year old English man who was disrespectful to the women in the restaurant, horrible to his wife, aggressive to the men and very, very rude to the Thai staff - one of the only times on our travels we have actually been embarrassed to be British.

The following morning we said a sad goodbye to the staff who had fed us every kind of coloured Thai curry, taught us a bit of their language and, on departure, insisted on pressing copious amounts of cumin root into Beth's rapidly yellowing hands (she was beginning to get seriously paranoid about the state of her skin by now). Karp-Koon-Kar (thanks) to them all!

Taking the ferry to the mainland via Koh Samui we were all nervous for fear of a repeat of the day before when the same ferry had spotted one of the bodies from the full moon boat disaster. Death has tainted both sides of Thailand's beautiful coasts and to dive or sail now carries the chance of discovering the poor missing people now assumed dead. On arrival at Surat Thani we said farewell to Natasha and James who were heading south and after vowing to keep in touch, boarded our night bus to Bangkok.

Dancing in the Moonlight

The five of us (us, Natasha, James and David) left the resort for the Full Moon party in Haad Rin at 10.30pm which was a shocker as normally we are considering going to bed at that time. With the truck scheduled to collect us again at 4.30am, we all figured it would be a long, long night for us thirty-somethings! We were greeted by eight million people on the beach (well, OK around 8000 then) and most of them seemed to want to talk to us. We soon realised that this wasn't for our scintillating conversation but chemically-induced euphoria and we sat back for a while and watched groups of people chewing maniacally, talking to trees and dancing like they were receiving electric shock treatment. Purchasing our Thai whiskey bucket (we kid you not, it is literally a bucket with straws in containing Thai whiskey, another unidentified spirit called M32 and cola) we weaved our way through the throngs of surprisingly chilled out people with not a fight in sight. We traversed the beach trying to choose which party to join and settled on the R&B/hip hop Cactus Club which seemed to have an older crowd and the largest proportion of drunk not chemically intoxicated people! We partied, danced, drunk and sweated under the moonlight and amongst heaving bodies until 4.30am and then were sad to leave. Driven back by a beautiful lady boy, 10 of us squeezed into an open truck designed to take 6 and we followed the convoys of scooters and taxi's back to our resort. We sat round a beach fire and watched the sunrise until collapsing in bed, not to see the sunlight again until the following afternoon. Hangovers all round and the resort gave everyone free coconut to ease the pain until we collapsed into bed gratefully at 10pm again. We awoke to the sad news of 15 backpackers drowning and more on the missing list when a boat leaving the Full Moon party to Koh Samui had collapsed under the weight of too many people onboard and no life jackets. This further highlights the dangers of transport in Thailand and we were shocked that a night of such fun could end so fatally in a country that seems so tragically accident prone at the moment.

Chilling in Thailand

We were woken at 2am for our first squat toilet experience since Peru and one we will have to get used to for our remaining travel in Asia we suspect. At 7am we crossed the border into Thailand with images of scenes from Bangkok Hilton however ironically, the security at border crossing seemed the most relaxed yet. We admired the views (although less jungle than we had seen on our Malaysian journey) until we reached Hat Yai, the hub of South Thailand. After the guide book's stark warnings of brothels under the guise of hairdressers (brings a whole new meaning of 'something extra for the weekend sir?') we were disappointed to see none as the city was seemingly quiet and still. Until the hordes of touts descended on us that is and we did exactly what western visitors are warned not to do - followed the loudest tout to a tuk-tuk, found ourselves driven to the closest tour office they are affiliated too and paid 800baht each (10GBP) for a minibus and ferry to Koh Samui island - our choice instead of the now closed and devastated west coast resort of Phi Phi. Cross with ourselves and with no way to check whether we had overpaid (although Steve did negotiate them down from 900baht), we sulked on the sofa as we waited for the mini-bus to arrive. The lady who had taken our booking must have taken pity on our sorry and bedraggled expressions and offered to share her (huge) breakfast with us. After 11 hours on a bus and having not eaten since 3pm the day before we cheered up immensely at the thought of some grub. Small things etc, etc. We have no idea what we ate only to know that Thai breakfasts are delicious! Gorgeous pea-green coloured sweets - a cross between the form of a jelly and consistency of blamonge - dipped in dried coconut followed by what tasted like deep fried doughnuts, without the sugar, then dipped in a delicious but equally pea-green coloured coconut sauce. Beth practiced saying 'thank-you' in Thai for 10 minutes before the minibus arrived and the lady still had no idea what she was saying. After writing the Thai word on paper, Beth received her first 'wai' - a bow with hands in the prayer gesture. Unsure what to do next, Beth bobbed up and down like a deranged jack-in-the-box until Steve dragged her onto the bus to avoid further humiliation! With driving faster than Schumacher, we have absolutely no idea how we arrived at the ferry in one piece but thankfully we did, our only pitstop being a mouthwatering plate of Thai rice with stir-fried chilies at a road-side stall. 60p! We would have had nine plates of it but time was against us and we were whizzed off in the mini-bus again.

Our plans to go to Koh Samui then Koh Phangan followed by Koh Tao were scuppered when we discovered that other travellers had also re-routed their journeys from the west to east coast. Koh Samui was full. So instead we headed straight for the island of Koh Phangan and, after a lovely ferry journey where we watched the sun set over isolated mountainous islands, we arrived at the harbour almost 24 hours after leaving Kuala Lumper. Our journey to the beautiful private beach resort of Haad Gruad on the west of the island was perilous to say the least and in a 4x4 truck with us hanging on for dear life in the open back, we traversed roads similar to the thin winding sand lanes of Fraser Island. Petrified but exhilarated, we had no way of knowing that this would be one of the safest forms of transport we would travel by in Koh Phangan. The resort was in darkness when we arrived, but we could still see that our 2.50gbp/night bamboo hut on the beach, whilst very basic, was beautifully idyllic with a hammock on the balcony, a ladder to the palm-lined roof for stargazing and a huge mosquito net that gave the appearance of a four-poster bed. Not even the pail flush toilets (water thrown down to clear your 'business'), no windows and cold water shower could spoil the image for us.

We slept very well to the sound of the sea lapping the shore outside our hut and awoke to a scene off the paradise scale. The resort was totally gorgeous and exactly like the picture we had painted in our imagination of Thailand. Hammocks strung between coconut palm trees swaying gently in the breeze, wooden tables strewn casually with lounging pillows and nestled into the rocks giving a perfect vantage point over the shimmering turquoise sea. Saving the delights of the resort's private beach for another day, we decided to explore the island by the most cost effective and popular way - motorbike. Despite all guide book warnings, the two of us and our new travelling companion, David from Sweden, set out - not as easy as it sounds. The sandy roads were treacherous and it didn't take long until our first accident. Loosing grip on the surface, we slid off causing a graze on Beth's knee of a size and depth that hasn't been achieved since childhood. Shaken, we continued and fortunately joined concrete roads for the next 10kms. The views out to sea were beautiful and it took all our will power to concentrate - Steve on driving and Beth hanging on! Just before Haad Rin, the capital of Koh Phangan, the road became even worse and it was like riding the corkscrew but on a track of gravel. It was a sobering sight to see the amount of accidents along the way to the extent that the local Thai's should buy shares in Savlon.

Haad Rin was a seething mass of tourists, scooters and shops meeting in a chaotic fashion on the (beautiful) beach. Steve opted for internet whilst Beth indulged in a traditional Thai massage. Fully expecting an hour of relaxation, she was slightly surprised to be pummelled, walked on and bent to within an inch of her life. She felt very supple afterwards and hoped her new found relaxed state would break her fall if she was to tumble from the scooter again, which of course we did. Going up hill, we pulled a wheelie that Evil Knievel would have been proud of and felt ourselves plunge forward towards the sheer cliff face. Somehow, the bike came to a halt and, yes, you guessed it, our front wheel ended up dangling over the cliff edge. Honestly, it's the stuff from films. After hauling the bike back onto the 'road' we discovered that the toe nail on Steve's little toe had been ripped off and headed shakily back to Haad Rin for urgent medical attention. Fortunately nursing clinics are common place, again a testament to the number of scooter accidents and for a mere 200 baht (3GBP) the nurse ripped off the remaining nail on Steve's little toe which was dangling on by a thread anyway and cleaned up the bloody stump. The top side of his toe had gone but pragmatic as ever, Steve quipped that little toes are pointless anyway. After such a narrow escape we were both shaking but had no choice but to drive the deathtrap back. Beth walked up the hills to avoid pulling accidental wheelies of such propensity as we had done before. It soon got dark and we had no idea how to get back to the secluded resort but after a two hour ride where we seemed to go round in circles and with our nerves shot to pieces, we settled in the restaurant breathing a sigh of relief. The upside as far as Beth is concerned that Steve no longer wants to learn to ride a motorcycle when we settle again! We drank copious amounts of Chang beer, ate huge portions of green Thai curry and chatted to some other travellers and the Thai waitresses who took Beth under their wing and painted her face with crushed cumin paste. Apparently it is supposed to prolong youth and the paste smelled so sweet and rich we considered bottling some and selling the recipe to L'Oreal!

Next morning Beth awoke looking like a jaundice victim and whilst her skin felt soft, she didn't have the heart to tell the lovely waitresses that it looked as if she had washed her face in Iodine. We had a lazy morning lounging on the beach in hammocks until we started chatting to James (English) and Natasha (S.African) then all decided to walk into Haad Yao, a larger resort to the south with more shops. We had a quiet evening with James, Natasha and David and next day walked to Koh Ma island, a round 9km round trip in the midday sun, to sweat off our curry excesses. The island is linked by a sand bar to Koh Phangan and although the visibility was awful we snorkeled for a while in what felt like a warm bath. After soaking up some sun in a setting that resembled the fabled beach in the film of the same name, we had an early night to prepare us the Full moon party the next night that Koh Phangan is internationally famous for.

Size does matter in Kuala Lumpur

The smog that quickly closed in around us on arrival at JB, our first Malaysian stop after walking over from customs, was in sharp contrast to Singapore. For a start, the customs officials didn't smile and our feet stuck to the chewing gum on the floor. The cars looked old and tatty, which isn't really surprising seeing as Singaporeans are forced to sell cars older than 10 years back to the government who then flog them on to Malaysia! After what seemed like three hours (actually 30mins) we eventually boarded our train - first class darhhhling - which was only 100 ringlets, sorry 100 Malaysian ringgits, which is the equivalent of 14GBP for the six hour journey to Kuala Lumpur, universally known as KL. The train journey was simply wonderful and we watched the jungle whizz past broken only by the occasional house on stilts as we chewed on our friend noodles and pattaya fried rice. Arriving in Kuala Lumpur was, although not as clean, calm and generally as ordered as Singapore, was nonetheless far better than JB and we got a taxi to The Green Hut hostel. At a bargain 60 ringlets a night, sorry 60 ringgits, we upgraded to a very basic but clean double room with a/c.

An early start at 7am the following morning saw us queuing to get one of the few allocated tickets to go up to the skybridge in the Petronas Towers. At 9am we were omitted into the tallest twin towers in the world and one of the highest buildings, that actually give you neck ache when you look up at them outside. We were taken in the lift to the 41st floor where the sky bridge afforded wonderful views over Kuala Lumpur. We were even above the smog level. Resisting the impulse to buy shiny plastic keyrings featuring the towers for everyone we know, we ignored the steady stream of backpackers heading into KFC and instead headed to the nearest hawker centre. Ben & Shona had taught us well! The food stalls were not nearly as clean as Singapore and there were some particularly unflavoursome looking chefs but, determined to try the local cuisine, we took 10 of the dishes on offer to sample. We have no idea what we ate but it looked like everything from battered chicken to sweet and sour pork, to faggot cake and marinated baby octopus. It all appeared to be swimming in chili sauce. We have now truly graduated from the Ben & Shona school for Asian cuisine. We washed it all down with cold green tea and jasmine (imagine drinking rose water) and soya bean milk (imagine drinking gone off milk) then walked across Kuala Lumpur to the Lake Complex. 8000 steps later (according to Beth's pedometer) and after nine wrong turns we finally made it to the lake complex which, although definitely prettier than the rest of Kuala Lumpur, was nothing to write home about (if you'll excuse the pun). Deciding to make the most of it, after all we had walked about four miles to get there, Steve decided we should hire a pedelo. At only 80p we ventured out onto the lake until to discover it seemed to doubl as a sewage works and Kuala Lumpur's general rubbish tip. The life jackets we were wearing in 30degrees too were causing excessive sweating and unfortunately, the last person to wear Beth's must have eaten curry morning, noon and night judging from the hot sweaty smells rising from it. We soon gave up. Walking back through Chinatown the heavens opened and we could almost see the steam rising off the pavements as the rain sizzled and the general smell of pollution wafted over the city to add to the smog.

Chinatown in KL is very different to the vibrant, bustling, authentic and generally friendly feel of its Singaporean brother. KL's version was full of fake Gucci and Diesel with traders shouting to be heard and then the saddest sight we have seen since travelling; tiny, tiny puppies enclosed in a glass tank in a shop window whining and crying as they scrabbled frantically against their glass prison. Ducklings covered in their own faeces were trapped in cages no bigger than them and colourful parrots were lying listlessly on the floor of their cage that offered no freedom for flight. It was a sad and bedraggled pair of travellers that went out for dinner that night, only half heartedly appreciating our salads and foot long sausages, unable to shake the images of the puppies from our minds.

Later on that same evening, we walked to the Petronas Towers again to see them lit in their full glory. And what a sight they were. Able to see them for miles around, the floodlit towers looked stunning and we lay on our backs in the street almost hypnotised by the sight. Until the lights went out at midnight that is leaving us feeling rather stupid!

Our final day in Kuala Lumpur was spent at the largest covered bird park in the world (Kuala Lumpur really doesn't seem to do things by half) which was really interesting although the larger birds, like the ostriches, were in pens that looked too small. The poor things looked as if they hardly had room to run let alone reach the 70kph they can achieve at full stretch. We saw some exotic birds including eagles and peacocks and the latter's call, merged with the islamic chanting over the loud speaker, accompanied the couple of hours we spent in the park. Lunch at the reasonably priced restaurant consisted of Nasi Lemuk (coconut rice and cuttlefish curry), chicken satay (satay originated in Malaysia) and Hainanese chicken rice. After our yummy feast we walked through the Orchid Gardens which, although lovely, were not a patch on Singapore's and then through the colourful Hibiscus Gardens, planted in homage to the Malaysian national flower and beautiful in their own right. As the flowers require huge amounts of water, the sprinklers around the gardens were very welcome in the tropical heat too!

We digested as much of the Thailand guide books as we could before catching our night bus to Hat Rai, south Thailand in the evening. We experienced our first incident of the Asian accounting creativity as after purchasing our tickets realised that we had paid 20 ringgits more than we should have done. Not a costly mistake at around 3GBP but a valuable lesson to prepare us for Thailand! As the coach pulled away from the incredibly busy bus station, we waved goodbye to the Petronas Towers, the best part of Kuala Lumpur and an incredible sight we will never forget.

The Singapore Fan Club

We've started off our travel diary about Singapore with the history and a slight essay about its culture which we don't normally do. After all, noone's interested in a history lecture and philosophical discussion from a pair of skanky backpackers. So instead we will move on to what we actually saw in Singapore and more accurately, the food we ate (or what Beth ate anyway).

Arriving in Singapore was a bit of a blur but we can certainly remember the customers officers smiling at us. Smiling at us? So rare we thought we were about to be shot or something. And then they offered us a Fox's fruit glacier. We wondered whether we had accidentally flown into a parallel world where customers officials are actually human. And the toilets! So clean! And painted mauve which made a change from the blue lights in the Sydney airport to confuse the junkies when trying to locate a vein. It was late at night and we were exhausted after our 12 hour bus from Melbourne to Sydney followed by the seven hour flight so we took a taxi to what would be our home for the next three nights (extended to a week). We have vague memories of pulling into a huge park full of towering condos and a beautiful flat with marble floors and Indonesian furniture before collapsing in bed and sleeping soundly. We woke up to be greeted by our friends Shona & Ben who live in Singapore (best friends of Laura & Jim who also lived and worked here for a number of years). Ben is a Singaporean and Shona is an ex-patriate Geordie. Together they live a wonderful ex-pats life in a four-bed condomonium, balcony with orchids, an amazing swimming pool for the exclusive use of their condo and a gym. We worried that we would never ever be able to leave. Really, we were the luckiest travellers in the world because not only are Shona & Ben locals and took us all over Singapore to sights not often unearthed by travellers on the beaten track but Ben is an expert in Asian cuisine and took us on a culinary experience which will stay in Beth's heart and probably Steve's bowels forever!

Our first day in Singapore was disappointingly overcast, but crikey it was hot still and we made the most of the weather by swimming in the wonderful swimming pool that, despite the hot weather felt as icy as the North Sea. All the condos in the area have a theme and Shona & Ben's condo has 'fish' so we swam for half an hour alongside tanks full of eels, barramundi and sharks. Taking a taxi to Bugis (Shona has a pathological fear of public transport and wasn't ready for the MRT underground yet), we had our first meal of many consisting of Japanese food cooked on a sizzling platter in front of diners - almost like a Mongolian restaurant in the UK. Teppan-yaki was so yummy that even Steve was hooked after sizzling hot meat, onions, garlic and chili were layered onto a bowl of rice then washed down with fresh lime juice.

Taking the spotless MRT (much to Shona's horror) we were struck by the efficiency, cleanliness and modernity of the infrastructure. A very smooth and quick ride later that even the new Jubilee line in London couldn't hope to match, we found ourselves in Clark Quay - home to many upmarket bars and restaurants. Poor Shona & Ben have a revolving door on their flat and as we were their second set of visitors this year they were forced to accompany us on the famous bumboats (the mind boggles as to how they got their name) for the fifth time in the last four months. We sailed down the river in the wooden covered boats and got a taste of the contrasts that make up that is Singapore -a towering skyline with colourful old shophouses that led to the Singapore symbol, the Merlion statue. In the afternoon we visited the botanic gardens which, as connoisseurs of worldwide botanic gardens now, we awarded the best in the world. High praise indeed and largely due to the Talipot palms flowering after 80 years in a final display (they die afterwards) of yellow and red blooms that looked as if the tops were on fire. The ginger garden was amazing and the orchid garden, Singapore's national flower, was an incredible sight as the brightly coloured flowers that are so rare in England, blossomed from immaculately lined beds.

The evening was Beth's favourite and frankly the reason why she was so excited about Singapore - our introduction to the local food at the outdoor Newton Circus. Newton Circus is a hawkers centre of about 50 stalls selling local specialties and in true Singapore style each stall is graded to reflect their cleanliness. Ben ordered for us and we found ourselves surrounded by exotic dish after dish of spicy smelling wonders. We tucked into grilled stingray (feeling slightly bad as they are very friendly to divers), murtabak (shredded bread and chicken), Prawn Mee (prawn noodles), chicken satay, chili crab (practically Singapore's national dish!), spring rolls and washed down with tiger beer. We rolled out of the hawkers centre, into 'Suzi', Ben & Shona's Suzuki van and then slept for England in a satisfying food-induced sleep.

After finally extracting Steve from the toilet after our night of spicy excesses, the next day we explored the older parts of Singapore. Heading first into Little India, we were greeted with wonderful spicy smells, colourful sari shops, Bollywood style glamour and some beautiful temples to visit. Huge brash buddhas gave way to intricate decoration detail and the smell of incense followed us around as we side-stepped the frangipani flowers lining the floors from temple to temple. We saw Sri Srinivasa Perumal Hindu temple, Sakaya Muni Buddha Gaya Buddhist temple and our favourite The Leong San See Taoist temple which seemed most appropriate as we stood in front of a statue of the Goddess Kuan Yin who has the allegded ability to ease human suffering. It seemed appropriate whether religious or not, to offer a prayer and light a candle for the victims of the Tsunami. The Buddhist temple had what looked at first like the wheel of fortune but what turned out to be a fortune telling machine. After each turning the wheel we were handed our fortunes; Beth will have a baby son one day and Steve will receive kindness from a younger person. Ours were substantially better than Shona's which read she would suffer through a life of trouble whilst Ben was told to watch out for a beautiful figure. Hopefully the two were not connected ;) We then took the MRT to Chinatown, the area where the Chinese first settled and where the beautiful old shop houses, now under preservation orders, gleam brightly over the restaurants, bustling streets and under the Chinese New Year decorations. Lunch in the Soup Restaurant saw us work our way through culinary delights such as Samsui ginger chicken wrapped in lettuce, sambol greens, beggars ribs and claypot tofu. Anyone hungry yet? We then went into the Chinese Heritage centre that traces the origin of the Chinese descendents and the history of Chinatown in Singapore. The tour was world class and gave us a real sense of the cramped conditions that the families had coped in in the shophouses that ironically are now the most expensive property in the area.

After all the rich food, Steve was poorly and took to the double bed whilst Beth, Ben & Shona sat by the pool eating Chinese bakwa (barbecued sweet pork meat) and drank wine, putting the world to rights as the fountains bubbled beside us and the fragrance of the frangipani trees drifted down on us from above.

Steve was still feeling under the weather the next day and put it down unused to the amount of spicy foods and rich meats we had consumed in the last couple of days. What else was Beth to do but go shopping? Wallet in hand, she sulked all the way to the famous Orchard Road as Steve had sensibly confiscated the credit cards. Window shopping in this famous area of Singapore is just as much fun and she wondered for hours longingly staring in the windows of Valentino, Prada and Gucci as the shop assistants looked out in a manner not unlike the scene on Rodeo Drive in Pretty Woman. After lunch in the food court and the purchase of what must be the most expensive wine in the world at $76 (30GBP) for two bottles to replenish Shona & Ben's dwindling stocks, she headed out to Little India for a second look. Mesmerised by the colourful materials and alien vegetables for sale in the markets she wondered aimlessly for a while until heading to Chinatown again to take in it's bustling activity for a second time. Returning home with bread delicacies, she forced the others to try pork flosss (candy floss consistency but made of pork not sugar), dumpling and coconut rolls. Bravely everyone tried the delights that most Angmoh's (Europeans) would shudder a the thought of consuming although Shona bulked at the pork flosss claiming it looked like someone had collected dust from the floor and mixed it with stringy pork - well she had a point to be honest.

With Steve suitably recovered by the evening, we headed to another hawker centre for him to try his next round of Singaporean delicacies. Ben ordered duck rice, laksa (wonderfully pungent noodle soup), spring rolls and mackerel otar (steamed fish) with freshly squeezed sugar cane juice. After Shona prodded one of the local's noodles to ascertain it's type, she added wonton noodles to the list. $2 (80p) for a flavoursome dish filled with spice and curry, butter and noodles, saw Beth in her element and Steve was, well, largely on the toilet. God help him in India.

Shona & Ben dropped us off after our feast to the Singapore Zoo for the Night Safari - apparently the first and only example in the world. The entrance was like something from 'Survivor' with towering columns sprouting flames and we weren't sure what to expect as we were led onto a tram and told by our softly spoken and over-excited Chinese guide to hold on and keep our hands in the vehicle at all times. The tram took us past African, South American and Asian themed animal enclosures, executed so well that we were almost transported to the country. We were taken past lions and tigers, hyenas and ant eaters, wild boar and hippos, elephants and rhinos -all with only a big ditch separating the road from the animals. Scary stuff but a truly amazing experience to be so close to the wild animals in such a great replication of their natural habitat. Alighting from the tram, we walked around the park too for even more information and to get even closer to such wonders as flying squirrels that glided through the trees above and bats that made us jump everytime they flew within a hairs breadth of our heads. The creatures of the night show was excellent with snakes gliding through the aisles, biturongs (like massive raccoons) climbing over head and with otters that could recycle (you have to see it to believe it).

Friday saw us all feeling overweight and spiced out despite having swum every morning for 30 minutes. We decided to walk off some of our excesses and Shona & Ben took us to the Macritchie Reservoir to walk on the boardwalk. On route we disturbed numerous monitor lizards and watched them waggle away like something from the prehistoric age. We trekked through jungle that gave us a sense of what Singapore was like originally and the mischievous monkeys only added to the sense of isolation from the city. We teased Ben incessantly that he was only walking to pass his next national fitness test that all Singaporean men have each year to include running 2km in under 12 minutes and completing 30 pull-ups in a minute. If they fail then they get sent to 'fit camp' or 'fat camp' as it has been renamed, for three evenings a week until they are able to pass. The idea? Keep the male population fit in case they are called for military action. And not only do they have a fitness test but to keep them on their toes but the military flash their code names that were allotted to them during their national service randomly and at any time on the TV, radio and through mobile phones. Once their code names are recognised, the men have to drop everything and report in or they risk a fine - Ben (aka 'Plump Quail' which we found hysterical!) was actually called to report during his duty as a best man!

After all the exercise, the blazing sun saw us retreating to the nearest hawker centre (again!) where we gave ourselves up to Ben's superior local knowledge of food and he ordered chicken biryani, roti john (baguette with egg), chicken rice, spring rolls, nasi padang (mixture of all things Indonesian on a banana leaf) washed down with fresh lime juice. In the evening it was the night we had all been waiting for: time to go to the famous Raffles (named after the British purchaser of Singapore). Almost tripping on the nut shells all over the floor (tradition in Raffles to disguise the sound of crunching cockroaches in the old days apparently), we sipped our delicious Singapore Slings whilst taking in the colonial feel of the Long Bar complete with palm fans waving from the ceiling. We could almost feel ourselves transported back to Singapore when it was part of the British empire. A walk down the esplanade afforded wonderful views of the brightly lit Singapore skyline and surprisingly, revealed a Botero sculpture trail whose famously 'voluptuous' women looked suspiciously like the increasingly overweight Beth. Two stone lost in New Zealand had gone straight back on after the culinary delights of Singapore! After dinner in Shima Aji Japanese restaurant (Colours by the Bay complex) we headed to Harry's Bar, made famous by Nick Leeson, and drank rather appropriately the 'round the world' cocktails before heading to bed for our busy schedule the following day.

An early start was called for as Steve and Beth took the MRT to the end of the line and went on the World War II tour of the Changi area of Singapore. We have an interest in the history because Beth's Grandad served in Seleter RAF base after the war and we wanted to find out more about the fascinating history the has made Singapore the place it is today. The tour covered the Japanese occupation after the bungled British defense and it was amazing to hear the incredible, moving and horribly sad Prisoner Of War stories at the Changi Museum. There was a quilt displayed that the women POW had made from rice sacks and they had embroidered messages for their husbands to show that they were still alive and give them hope to continue. Ben's Mum was a child during the Japanese occupation and remembers some really kind acts from the Japanese to the locals...but we didn't hear that side of the story in the war museum and it all sounded so cruel and unimaginable to us. The local Japanese schools actually go around the museum to learn what happened during the occupation and it must be an even bigger shock to them.

In the afternoon, Steve and Beth trooped to Orchard Road again to get our final fix of the huge shopping arcades and then went into Arab Street - as the name suggests the Arabic section of Singapore and one filled with mosques, raffia and gold. In the evening we headed to Chinatown to see the start of the Chinese New Year celebrations. The year of the rooster saw some unusual displays like mechanical roosters performing acts that should really be confined to robot wars. Chinatown was decked out in red and gold and the streets were alive with decorations in pinks and greens, a millions times more tasteful than Oxford Street at Christmas. The place was packed and as soon as we had seen the 20 minute long fire cracker display that almost burst our ear drums, followed by the procession of dragons and roosters (it felt as if we were caught up in a bizarre fancy dress party) we left, glad to be free of the crowds however orderly they may act in Singapore.

Sunday morning Beth, Shona & Ben went to the wet market to buy some fresh orchids and enough fruit to keep us in tropical vitamins for the next 2 days. Steve could not stomach the pungent fish smell again and stayed by the pool! The rest of the day was spent lazily soaking up the sun and in the afternoon we watched the final of the Tiger Cup on TV - Singapore vs. Malaysia. When Singapore won we all erupted and celebrated with sundowner cocktails that Ben makes so well. Not a sound was heard from the other condos and it struck us that perhaps the neighbours weren't quite embracing the spirit as rowdily as we were! Whistling sparklers and a huge (traditional English) roast later which nearly broke the bank at $8 (3GBP) for 20 imported sprouts we finished off with Shona's delicious plum and apple crumble. After consuming the 'most expensive wine in the world' to wash our feast down with, even Ben started craving for England so we finished off in an Asian fashion instead by sampling Singaporean fruits after fruits with amazing names such as rock guava, water guava, mangosteen, honey mangos and chiku. They were such a rainbow of colours that they were almost too pretty to eat. An enormous game of Rapidodough ensued where we modeled words from playdough such as doll, stirrup and crease. Think about it for a while and you realise how hard it can get! Final score of the evening: Boys 2, girls 0 (but they had more style and their technique was definitely better).

Our final day in Singapore saw us shopping (or looking) in Holland Village arcade in the morning and then spent the afternoon in Sentosa - the most popular attraction in Singapore. As an island joined by a huge cable car from the mainland, it is the southern most point of continental Asia and definitely worth going to but almost manufactured in it's perfection; wonderful sand, imported palm trees, rope bridges and pagodas. We spent a happy hour under cover of the monorail as the rain beat down on the island and the grey clouds seemed set to scupper any thoughts of walking. On our return, Shona had cooked us stir-fried prawns the size of plums with pak choy greens in oyster sauce and Ben made fresh chili sauce for himself and Beth as they are officially addicted to 'heaty' foods (as they say in Singapore). Washed down with some cocktails, we played the return leg of Rapidough which the girls won after much controversy. Boys won on aggregate but the girls have lodged official complaints over poor conduct and are still hoping for a revoke in the judges decision.

After a fabulously English bacon, egg and tomato sandwich, we had to drag ourselves out of Shona & Ben's beautiful condo and from their hospitality that had kept us warm (and fat) for the last week. They took us to Johor Buhra (JB) in Malaysia where we boarded the train to Kuala Lumper, sad to leave our good friends behind after we had such fun in the wonderfully contrasting Singapore.

Singapore: Voluntary Communism or Guided Democracy?

Singapore was part of the British Empire until it became Japanese in 1945 following Britain's biggest defeat in World War II (or so the history books claim). Passports and currency changed overnight but two years on (after Germany's defeat) the Japanese moved out and Singapore became Malaysian this time. Continued campaigning saw Singapore gain independence in 1965 to become the city, the country and the Island. Now after 40 years of development, Singapore is the most developed country in Asia with a healthy population of almost four million on an island the size of Isle of Wight. Chinese constitute 76% of this multi-cultured society followed by 14% Malay, 8% Indians and a smattering of ex-pats*. Why the history lesson? Because Singapore is fascinating with a checkered history that few know because unlike Pearl Harbour or Europe, films have not been produced on the subject. The guidebooks will tell you to not spend long here and devote the majority of pages to it's neighbours. They will say that Singapore is high-rise buildings springing from land that was once lush jungle. Ignore them. The modern high rise blocks and the towering skyline do exist as the frontline of Singapore, but it's when you delve deeper and visit Little India, China Town and Arab Street that you see the old side and the cultural side. Singapore needs exploration - every day is like a new chapter and a new lesson. So many cultures live along side each other and where else in the world do you see Catholic, Arab, Muslim, Hindu and Buddhism places of worship sit next to each other? Singapore is compassionate and tolerant, it is law abiding and clean, it is unlike any other culture we have ever experienced. Freedom of speech is censored; hawkers are registered and those citing doom to the end of the world have to apply to speak in public. The local police vet their script and they can say their piece in 'Speakers Corner'. As long as it doesn't cover religion, politics or sex that is. Littering is a fineable offence, chewing gum is illegal and legislation insists that all vans are fitted with a siren that sounds if you drive faster than 60kph. This country bans oral sex and nudity in your own home...if you're spotted that is. The police must have a great time. But if you have no food, the government will give you a sack of rice. If you have nowhere to live then they will house you in one of the many HDB's (Housing Development Board), high rise blocks of flats that the locals live in. Unemployment is only 3% because people love to work here, they work all day and all night if they can. It may sound like communism but capitalism is certainly welcomed. These people WANT to live like this, in a city with little crime and where we only heard a police siren once in an entire week. Some choose to call it guided democracy. But whatever you think of Singapore, you will not find the answer in a guide book or in our travel diary, you will only find the secret of Singapore by visiting, binning your guidebook and instead asking a local. But whatever you think Singapore is, for Gods sake don't share the view in public. You might well get fined.

* Stats taken from Singapore Government website, reports dated June 2004

Cosmopolitan Melbourne

After a 12 hour bus journey from Sydney we arrived in Melbourne at a bleary-eyed 6am. In a very bedraggled fashion we caught one of the thousands of trams servicing Melbourne centre and headed out to the 'bohemian' section, Fitzroy. After our rather dubious contact with all things spiritual in Byron Bay we were unsure whether we were ready for our next brush with free spirits however Fitzroy manages to blend art galleries with tie-dye in an effortless mix of sushi and soya beans. But art galleries are not open at 6.30am so we arrived on Helen's (another friend from Steve's Fuji days) doorstep looking like the skanky backpackers we have become but were greeted with the offer of a warm shower, fluffy towels and a double bed. I think we both hugged Helen within an inch of her life after that offer. When we eventually managed to get out of bed, we followed the very excellent Lonely Planet walking tour of Melbourne and stumbled across a city that resembles Victorian London with a smattering of art deco thrown in for good measure. We discovered a city famous for its culture, its bars and restaurants and its cosmopolitan overtone that brings all nationalities together in their appreciation of fine food. It is not a place to diet. The walking tour encompassed the beautiful side streets of Degraves and Block Place (a cross between Diagon Alley and Carnaby Street depending on your point of view) and taking the lift to the top of the fabulous Sofitel where a very friendly lift operator and true 'Melbournian' gave us a personal guide of the views we were seeing. The majority of the sights he pointed out involved restaurants but then that is the native Melbournians all over. We walked on to see the fabulous Flinders Street railway station and then crossed to Young & Jackson Restaurant - the oldest in Melbourne and home to the 19th century nude, Chloe, deemed too risque to house in the national gallery at the time but clearly fine for diners to stare at over their pavlova. In the evening Helen cooked us a lovely meal and we talked until 2am, catching up on Helen's news as she has been away from England so long to study remedial massage and yoga in India and then Melbourne.

The next day the three of us took the free tram ride around the city which, although extremely busy and extremely slow, gave us the opportunity of seeing the new docklands development by the river - a controversial development for the Mebournians but the new central business district none-the-less. Getting off in the Southbank area (just like London, this area is south of the river except that taxi drivers from the north don't refuse to cross the river in Melbourne) we walked around the botanic gardens billed as Australia's finest and although the weather was miserable, the rainforest areas and ornamental lake were certainly very memorable. In the evening we met with Helen's friend Gayle (English but working in Melbourne) and Florien, her German friend holidaying in Aus. A rowdy night ensued where we visited a Greek restaurant, got a little bit carried away with the 'BYO' policy (bring your own alcohol) and by the end of the night were calling all the waiters 'Stavros'. Fortunately they saw the funny side and retaliated by calling Beth 'Bridget' (as in the hapless Jones variety) all night. All's fair in love and stereotyping we supposed. The night ended in Bar:Open, one of the many bars lining Brunswick Street in Fitzroy, where we made the most of the Australian flexible drinking hours until 3am. The next day we were deeply hungover and sat groaning on Helen's very comfy sofa for the entire day to get some R&R.

Suitably recovered after a lazy day, we took the tram to Federation Square, another controversial new building in Melbourne and one that is innovative rather than aesthetically pleasing or sympathetic to the neighbouring Victorian Flinders Street Station. It actually houses a number of restaurants and also the National Art Gallery of Victoria. Believe it or not, we went to the latter! On the way back we dropped into Helen's workplace, the 'Lebonese House' restaurant and indulged in a delicious meze and vine leaves (and excellent waitress service of course - thanks Hel!). Our final day in Melbourne was spent in St.Kilda, the very trendy suburb famous for its beach side view and Sunday markets. After exploring the centre, wondering through the market and consuming considerable amounts of cakes in Ackland street, we caught the Greyhound back to Sydney whilst contemplating our imminent departure from Australia.

Australia is a fantastic country - to live and to holiday. For travellers it is slightly different. Once you have seen the red centre (Uluru et al) and Kakadu, the rest of the east coast is largely about relaxing - sun, sea, surf, sand and booze. Fantastic for the short term but we were beginning to feel that we were being indulgent by spending so much time in Australia.

Before flying off we walked over the wonderful Sydney harbour bridge and took in the skyline that we had become so fond of then departed for Singapore. Sad because we had had such fun and made some great friends along the way but secretly relieved that we would be soon to travel in countries with a culture so different from our own and start learning again.