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Angkor
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Angkor Archaeological Park, Cambodia
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This place was Average
visited Nov 2005
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What do you do when you’re bored with Thailand? Take a little detour to Cambodia. The journey itself back and forth is all but relaxing, but in a way prepares you for what to expect in terms of comfort and standard of facilities and infrastructure in the country. Angkor Wat is allegedly the largest religious spot in the world with its palaces and temples. The tourist is offered to explore it for one, two, or three days. Having only one day to spend, the option is rather easy for me. A guy from the hotel offers to be my designated driver for the day, and I accept. He takes me on his motorbike, stops at all the important and interesting spots and buildings, and waits patiently in the shade at the exit of each sight. I’m feeling a bit guilty for not knowing about this site and civilization that obviously has played a rather important part in the history of this part of the Asia. I also learn the lesson to do at least a little bit of research before visiting a place like this. Having known a little bit of this culture and history, I would know what it was I was looking at. Well, not much to do. It is still very interesting and impressive. The buildings are well preserved, considering the fact that tourists are allowed to walk and climb and tramp on every stone of every building. The biggest temple looks like something built of LEGO. How many LEGO pieces would it take to build something like this? Probably a gazillion. After a day of climbing and walking and riding on the back of a motorcycle, I’m quite satisfied, and glad to have seen this place. My chauffeur offers to take me to see the sunset. I decline, being quite tired, and having seen sunsets before. Two guys from New Zealand chose the option of renting bikes and doing the more slow and relaxed three day thing. I wonder how you could possibly stretch this to three days, but as opposed to me, maybe they did their homework...
posted Jul 9, 2007
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Porn Star
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Malaga, Spain
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This place was Average
visited Jan 1997
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Had the time of my life in Malaga, Spain. Not so much because of the city, but because of the people. We didn’t have much contact with the outside world, so the news that spread concerned each other. True or false, news was spreading with the speed of light. Picked up by all. Contested by few. Towards the end of the first semester, a couple of rather shy Swedish girls come up to me at a party, ask me a strange question: “Have you ever been in a movie?”. “Eh, no, what makes you think that?”. “Well, somebody said so”. The closest I ever came to television was being in a frame for a split second in the crowd at a soccer game. The girls didn’t push it, so I let it go. Until a few weeks later. Goodbye party after the first semester. A guy, certainly not shy like the girls, is standing next to me in the bar: “Hey, Christian, I’m leaving now, so there’s something I’ve got to ask you. Have you ever been in a porn movie?”. After a split second of registering this absurd inquiry, I react in the only possible way I can. I burst out in the loudest laughter. If I remember correctly, I even roll around the floor laughing. After a couple of minutes of hysterical and uncontrolled laughter, I somewhat regain control, get on my feet, and manage to put on at least a semi-straight face: “No, I have never been in a porn movie. Who told you that?”. “Well, some guy said he’d seen someone who looked very much like you in some porn movie.”. More laughing. Not sure what the guy was thinking, if he believed me or not. Doesn’t matter. Nothing wrong with porn movies, but I don’t think anyone would like to see me in one. Maybe I should be angry with the person who spread the rumor about me, but I can’t remember ever laughing that much to this day, so no hard feelings. Wonder what my stage name would be as a porn star...?
posted Feb 11, 2007
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The Hangar
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Berlin, Germany
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This place was Great
visited Sep 2006
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Probably very few tourists who visited Berlin left the city disappointed. The city offers more sights and activities than most other cities in Europe. Its history, culture, size, affordability, accessibility, and atmosphere make it a great destination for anyone who wants a little bit of everything in a short amount of time. A short weekend with the family is my reason to visit. After having seen the main sights, the family takes off for Sweden, and I’m left to explore the city for a day before the flight back to Amsterdam. Fortunately, an old friend lives there and knows the ins and outs of the city. Shows me the quarters off the beaten tourist tracks, places I would not have ended up at on my own random strollings. After the little historical review of that part of town, a visit to a flea market, and a nice chat catching up on old stories at a random café, she suggests something quite alternative. “I’m taking you to a club. It’s not a regular club, it’s the underground type of club. Under-underground”. Sure, why not. If that’s what people do on a Sunday in Berlin, why not. We’re close to the East Side Gallery – the only remains of the Berlin Wall, now transformed to a stretch of stylish or less stylish graffiti on this wall that was once a divider between East and West. Seen it the day before, so let’s go clubbing. The club is located in a rather dodgy neighborhood, houses are worn down, lots of empty lots. The entrance is literally a hole in the wall. Not the famous Berlin wall, but a regular concrete wall on a regular street. No signs, just a curtain covering the hole. We enter The Hangar. The first scen after having entered through the wall is an outdoor space with worn-down bar, a few trees, a ping-pong table that hasn’t been used lately if ever. Also a few people hang out outside. Mainly people who are too stoned, drugged, or drunk to enjoy the dancefloor inside. It’s not a place one should go who’s scared of germs, drugs, a wide variety of people, rabies, or techno music. The place is very, let’s say, liberal. No prejudice, everyone is welcome. My friend D seems to know most of the people there. She explains that although it is indeed an under-underground club, it’s well known of its kind. You see every kind of people here, from junkies to yuppies. On a good night people queue to get in. The interior, the actual club, is not as dodgy as the exterior. A dancefloor, a DJ booth, a bar, a few chairs and tables. It’s not very crowded, but for a Sunday afternoon it’s quite impressive how many people are out partying. The audience consist mainly of people who want to extend the fun from Saturday night. Some have passed out, some are dancing, some are chatting. One guy who just woke up from his nap lost his glasses. There’s a Swedish girl who likes the place and the city. An English guy tells his story how he ended up there after many years abroad. The beer is cheap and good, although not very cold. Eventually I have to leave to catch my flight. D shows me the way back. It’s actually not that complicated, I might even be able to find my way back next time in Berlin. Not sure if I will, but it was an enjoyable experience. A contrast to the busy and packed bars and clubs in Amsterdam, and with nice and openminded people. I literally left Berlin with a smile. And with a desire to come back.
posted Feb 11, 2007
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Finding Nemo
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Ban Khlong Phrao, Thailand
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This place was Average
visited Nov 2005
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At first getting to a quiet and rather remote place seemed like a good idea. Kind of burned out at work, so the contrast between Amsterdam and the island of Koh Chang seemed like the perfect remedy to recharge my batteries. Sit on the beach, read a book, drink a beer, relax. Worked for about an hour before my restlessness took its tribute. Boring. Fortunately, Thailand is an ideal place for excursions and activities in the nature. So, a snorkel tour was booked. A full day of activities, snorkeling, four islands, beautiful scenery, food and drinks included, for about 10 Euros. Turned out to be a pretty good deal. The boat was not exactly the most modern of ships, operated by a crew of a handful of teenagers. The equipment – standard snorkel and goggles – is not of the highest quality, but adequate for the purpose of viewing some tropical fish underwater. The first stop is a very small island. The crew speak very little English, but it’s rather obvious when the little group of tourists are expected to go into the water and when to get up. Boat stops – get in. Boat starts moving – get up. The tropical fish are quite colorful, but the ones that live around here are not very exciting. They are not very afraid of the tourists, but don’t exactly put on a great show. The experience is enjoyable, like swimming around in a tropical fish tank, but after a little while it gets quite repetitive. Obviously the crew and the organizers of the tours know that the people who go on these tours are no hard-core diving fans, but merely tourists seeking a safe and affordable tropical experience without too much effort involved. So, the crew waits patiently until the group of people is bored and onboard. On the third stop with the boat, one of the Thai guys in the crew apparently feels that the group is getting uninterested, so he goes into the water, searching for something that could excite the tourists. After a little underwater swim he surfaces and shouts “Nemo! Nemo!”. His English vocabulary is limited to possibly only this word, but it’s quite obvious that he wants us to dive at the spot he’s at. The “Nemo” he refers to is of course a fish similar to the one in the famous Disney movie. This sort of fish is called “clown fish”, but “Nemo” is catchier and more recognizable by the international crowd. Indeed, at the spot he pointed at there is a little clown fish swimming around, although it’s not nearly as colorful as the one in the movie. This little guy will never experience the same adventures that Nemo and his father did in the film, but he doesn’t seem to care much. It’s probably quite content in its current environment. The day of fun ends with a volleyball game on the beach, before heading back to the harbor. Heavily burned by the sun (back and neck are very exposed when snorkeling, especially without suntan lotion…), but content with having found “Nemo”.
posted Feb 11, 2007
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Borat
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Malmo, Sweden
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This place was Great
visited Dec 2006
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Christmas time is not only a time for spending time with your family, spending money, eating good food, exchanging gifts, watch classic movies on television. It is also a time for travel. For most people, this means traveling “home”. Also for myself this was the reason for making a short stop at Malmö central station; in transit between Amsterdam and my hometown in Sweden. Screening the main board for my connecting train, I feel a tap on my shoulder and hear someone speaking English with a strong eastern European accent. “Which train do I need to take to Landskrona?”. I’m not the least surprised, usually being the target for strangers’ craving for tourist/travel/map information. It’s rather late though, and you never know what kind of dodgy people hang out at public places at night, so I politely ask him to find the information desk. Turns out that he tried that already, and it was closed. Since it’s Christmas and all, and he seems genuinely lost, I decide to try to help him find his train. After a bit of search on the boards we finally manage to find his train. He is very happy that someone took the time to help him. “Sweden is the greatest country in the world” he says. Curious where this person is from who thinks that Sweden is heaven on earth, I ask him. “Kazakhstan”. With the recent hype of Borat and his film about the cultural learnings of various things, my immediate reaction is to look around for cameras and a film crew. Seriously, how often do you meet someone from Kazakhstan? His name is actually not Borat, but Alexij. It’s not clear why he is in Sweden and wants to go to Landskrona, a small town about as exciting as a pile of laundry. Being a bit suspicious towards strangers approaching me at train stations, I don’t ask for too many details. “You travel Russia?” he asks. “No, unfortunately not, but would like to. Maybe St. Petersburg some day” I reply. “Oh, then you have to come live with my aunt there. No problem.”. “Eh, well, I’m probably not going within the next few weeks...”. “No problem, when you go you contact me. My name is on website for DJ in Germany”. “Ok, I’ll do that”. The conversation is getting a bit too personal, so I excuse myself to go find my train. “No problem. Nice talking to you. Maybe see you again” he says. Here a handshake would be ok, if not a bit personal with a stranger you talked to for a couple of minutes. Alexij wants to take it a step further. He hugs. “This is how we do it in my country”. Holding on tight to my belongings, just waiting for a group of Kazakh thugs to jump me while this guy is distracting me, I try to break free. Nothing happens though. Alexij was just happy to talk to someone. I guess that was my cultural learning about Kazakhstan, much more tangible than the Borat movie...
posted Jan 7, 2007
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