My Final Post

"Put it in the books", they say. This day is finally here. A day that seemed years away when looking at it way back in January or Febuary or April. This is the day my adventure comes to a close. I can't describe the kinds of emotions running though me, so many mixed feelings of happiness, sadness, excitement, blah, blah, blah. It's been 147 days, 21 weeks, and maybe I'm just getting old, but the time seemed to whiz by. The days were never short, but when I look back at everything, it seems just a few weeks ago I stepped out of Grandma's apartment into a snow storm trying to hail a cab for the airport, praying my flight wasn't going to be delayed.

This trip was a necessity for me... I needed to do it before I hit the "real world". This wasn't a long vacation or a kid traveling with a backpack on... this was so much more. I've always said that I've learned more from traveling than I have in any classroom, and this trip certainly followed suit. For starters, I learned alot about myself: being placed in all kinds of situations extremely new and foreign to me enabled me to rely on different skills I never knew I had, and/or didn't have and had to acquire. I learned alot about relationships and people: in short, we all speak that same universal language. I learned alot about perpsective: being around so many different people from all over the world really shed different kinds of light on things I knew and didn't know about. And, of course, there are countless other things, however, I'll keep some of them to myself.

I return home feeling quite different about myself. I feel ready, I feel uplifted, I feel things I can't really put into words. To say the least, I return home a much improved version of the Max that left in late January.

I can't believe the kinds of things I've been able to do! I've experience two religions, Buddhism and Hinduism, I've climbed mountains and got lost in volcanoes, seen centuries old temples, swam in some of the world's most beautiful waters, motorbiked throughout countries, and ate foods that don't look anything like food.

I've come to realize that the places I went to were great, the things I saw were special, but if you were to take away the wonderful people I experienced these things with, all of these places just don't mean as much to me. It's the faces, the different lives, the seperate stories that I will carry with me forever. I've met all kinds of people on this journey. Some I travelled with for three weeks, some for three days, some I hung with for three hours, and some I talked to for only three minutes. But everyone touched me in some way, regardless of how long I was with them.

I look forward to the next chapter of my life. While this colorful and memorable chapter comes to a close, it will be one that I'll refer to in future chapters. This is an ongoing journey, and it's shape will soon take new form.

To my family, thank you so much for enabling me and encouraging me to embark on such a special adventure, it obviously could not have been accomplished without the love and support of all of you. To my friends, thanks so much for doing a great job of keeping me in the loop and staying in touch while I've been away, I've come to value our relationships very much since I've been gone. To the people I know through other aspects of my life, thank you for taking the time to read up and shoot me a kind note. And to my new friends... all I can say is, I hope to have touched your lives the way you have touched mine.

So to all of you, as tears fill my eyes while I write, thank you for making these last five months a special piece of my personal history that will accompany me with every year that follows.

I'm coming home, and my heart is full... my heart is full.

Back to Sydney

My final weekend of travels is here. I'm back in Sydney with the exact people I want to be with. My two Aussie friends that I met in Israel, Warren and Jono, and my Texan friend I met in Prague, Jeff. Also, Tim, a guy I did alot of travelling with in Thailand, flew down from Brisbane to hang with me. I'm really glad I'm seeing him before I end this thing, as he is the closest friend I've made in my travels.

Alright folks, Indo was a blast, I left the steps with a smile, and I long to go back to Indonesia for sure, it's such an amazingly diverse place.

Grindin'

I wanted to just chill in Kuta my last couple of days but the biggest swell in two years just hit Ulu Watu, so I had to motor bike down there to check it all out. These waves were absolutely insane, I've never seen anything like it before. The guys that were riding these waves over razor sharp coral have some serious balls.

Yesterday I went back up to Ubud to do some shopping for authentic Balinese stuff. I've been proud of myself that for all the motorbiking I've done this trip, I hadn't had one accident or crashed or anything. Well, I thought too soon. I had to stop short, and I slammed on the front brake, a bad idea. The bike skidded out from under me and I bounced around and around and around the concrete. Luckily, just a bunch of scrapes, but in the worst freakin' places, man. I got a cut on my ass that makes me cry when I lay down. The bike, surprizingly, was okay.

It's hard to make out how big a wave is through a picture, but just look at how small the surfer is compared to the wave he is riding (click on the picture to enlarge it). The other picture is from Padang Padang Beach, another storied surf spot just north of Ulu's.

Ulu Watu, World Famous Waves

Winding down my Indonesian adventure, I jumped off Lombok and arrived in Bali's world famous surf region, Ulu Watu, located in the very south. It took 13 hours to get here from Lombok... a three hour public bus ride (getting on and off three times) to the Lombok harbour, a five hour ferry ride, a two hour bus ride to the Bali capital, an hour bus ride a little further south, and then when there were no more buses running down to Ulu Watu I hitch hiked another hour.

I had no idea Indonesia was such a surf hub. I always thought it was Hawaii and some other random places, but Indo is a surfing mecca, the world's best coming from all over to sample southern Bali's famous spot, Ulu Watu (Ulu's to the surfers). All the big surf companies have houses out here and sponsor events, people like Rip Curl and Billabong. These waves are way outta my league, but I'm having fun just watching these guys drop in on monsters.

I've gotten really big into the surf culture since I've been out here. I've learned all about waves, how to read them, how to understand where they get their power from, how to estimate swell (the wind levels that make a wave big), how to pick out the right board... it's really interesting. I get asked questions like, "So where's your home break, bruh?" (What is the name of the surf break in my hometown). "I don't have one", I have no choice but to respond. Although I feel a bit out of place riding my motorbike without a board strapped to the side, I do enjoy being in this area. It's no joke around here... bed at 10, up at 6, hittin' waves all day. These are some of the world's best waves.

Southern Lombok

Hey lads and ladies! Sorry if I made some of you nervous with my absence of posts lately. I just got done visiting the southern part of Lombok, an island about 50 miles east of Bali. The area barely had running water. I did a nice motorbike tour, hopping beach to beach across the southern region of a town also called Kuta, but on Lombok island.

The beaches in Thailand were amazing, but they have all been found. These beaches in southern Lombok have perfecto white sand, with waters so clear you could snorkel without goggles... and there's nothing on them... no people, no hotels, no nothin'! It was like a dream come true. Lombok is a very underdeveloped island, especially in the south. But there was just beach after beach with jaw dropping characteristics all day long, and I had all of them to myself. I swam naked for an hour in broad daylight with no one to bother me. What more could ya want?

Unfortunately, this region will not remain like this for long. A Dubai based company just poured $800 million into the area to build a Ritz Carlton right on the beach picture below, and extending it three beaches down. Construction will begin in April and should be finished in a decade. Although I am sad at the thought of this magically untouched group of beaches being built upon, I am really happy that I was able to answer my question of whether or not there are still world class beaches not yet bitten by the development bug. And the answer is yes.

Gettin' Silly in Gili

Still hanging out here in Gili Trawangan. The beaches just keep me here like a magnet. I am not much of a snorkeler, but there is alot of stuff to see under these waters. I went with a big group of people I've been hanging out with, and it was really cool, there were all kinds of turtles as big as tires just swimming around. Definitely a first for me.

Sorry I haven't been able to put up pictures on Webshots. The computers here are way too slow. But when I get back to Sydney I'll put them all up. These Bali and Indonesia photos are some of the most colorful and cultural of the entire trip.

Gili Trawangan

I just got done with a 13 hour travel day... I feel like I'm back in North Thailand. I went out all night in Kuta, walked back into my home stay at 5:15, packed by stuff, jumped on a 6 a.m. bus for three hours to north eastern Bali, took a five hour boat to an island called Lombok, took two hour-plus bus rides to the north, then finished it off with one more hour on a boat to Gili Trawangan, where I am right now.

The island is about 25 city blocks in length and about 4 avenues wide. It took me an hour to take a lap around the place. But now I'm back to that fresh white sand and turquoise waters that make me want to freeze time. The island has electricity... sometimes, and I'm surprised I can even connect on a computer.

I ran into two girls I hung out with three months ago in an island in Thailand. Its so cool having all these run-ins.

Monkey Business

I have scientific proof that primates are the ancestors of humans...

Back to Killer Kuta

I'm back in Kuta now because I have to sort out my visa situation and figure out how to stay in the country longer than my alotted 30 days. Eventhough the visa's good until June 10th, I am going to another Indonesian island soon and I need to get everything squared first.

Last night at a club, I ran into two guys I did "Dirty Bangkok" with about six weeks ago. One is from Cali, Clint, and the other is from Sweden, Johan. We had so much fun in Bangkok together and hung out with these three Israeli girls fresh from the military. I absolutely loved these dudes. When we bumped into eachother last night, we jumped into the biggest bro hug a straight man can give, and the entire surrounding area stopped and gave us the weirdest looks. Maybe it was because I was hugging two guys that were wearing nothing but pink boxer briefs and a tie around their heads. I couldn't have been happier to see them.

When I was three weeks into my trip way back in the north of Thailand, I was in a small hippie town called Pai. I was walking by a small outdoor bar when two Brits, John and Garreth, invited me to have a drink with them. They were very nice guys, and one of them, John, mentioned something very interesting... he spoke about how he had a certain perception about a certain thing, which made him act a certain way. And one of the main goals for his trip was to change that perception. I found it to be a very inspiring idea, and myself, sharing the exact same feeling about that certain thing, thought it would be nice if I could do the same, although I didn't find it to be too realistic. The two Brits and I went our seperate ways a few days later before we could say our goodbyes and exchange info, and as the weeks went on I began to transform my original feelings about that certain thing, and its definitely changed me for the better. And for the last couple months I wish I could have been able to tell John that he inspired me in a big way.

I was walking into a travel agent this afternoon in Kuta when, of course out of no where, I crossed paths with Garreth, the other Brit! I was equally as happy to see him as well. We spoke for a long while, its been more than three months since we've seen or spoken to eachother. Anyway, to make a long story short... now I have a way to thank John.

Lovina

Movin' along and doin' my thang, I arrived in Lovina, a sleepy town on a black sand beach in the northern, central coast of Bali. The almost broken down bus took only a few hours, so it wasn't terrible. People mostly hire private transport to places around Bali, but I really enjoy using public transportation. Back in Thailand, I made a decision to use the same transportation the locals do, and I learned a lot about the culture that way. It's great to sit on an old smelly bus with torn up seats, just watching everyone else do their thing. Some women are carrying with them fruits from the market, some little boys are going to school, some old men seem to just be sitting doing whatever. It's fascinating, really... small pleasures.

Lovina is nothing special. The black sand, due to the volcano, is cool to see but the water is kind of nasty and the beach itself isn't great. The town is very quiet with not alot of people, either. But Lovina is in a great spot in Bali, so close to beautiful scenery and small villages. The motor biking has been unbelievable, going through mountains and miles upon miles of rice paddies. The shades of green are amazing.

I saw cock fighting yesterday. It was intense and brutal. The rules here are a lot different from the fights I saw in the Dominican Republic. They follow more of a boxing set up with a ten count to see if the injured chicken can stand up. Here, the cocks have these huge three inch blades attached to their talons, where as in the Dominican there were short blunt spikes attached. Therefore, the fights were quick... these chickens caught one good slash, and it was lights out. There was no pulling a Rocky Balboa and fighting one more round, hurt and beat up. I won't post the video in case there are some PETA Playaz reading, but it was a scene to be watched. Half the fun was watching the Balinese surrounding the ring, betting, cheering, and just making noise.

Below is a picture of a great stretch of rice fields and a farmer just happy being a farmer.

The Volcano

I took a bus from Ubud into the central, mountainous region of Bali. There are two active volcanoes in Bali, and I went to the smaller one, Gunung Batur, set in a beautiful valley surrounding a lake. There are great treks that go to the top of Gunung Batur, and because the clouds begin to obscure views before noon, the most popular trek leaves at 4 a.m. to see the sunrise from the top then walk around the craters and blackened lava sediments.

My guidebook says that many travellers report being able to climb the mountain without a guide, as the path is well defined and easy to follow. However, there is somewhat of a trek mafia here in town, and its just bad news for people attempting to climb without a guide, as threats of violence and intimidation are some of the problems linked with not using a guide. Welllllllllll... my ass wasn't taking a guide, so I had to tread very softly, not ask too many questions, make it seem like I was going to wait a couple days. Listen, I didn't choose not to take a guide just to be a pain in the ass. My book said it was an easy climb do to alone, although not recommended in the dark. I was looking to test myself in a way I haven't before, and because of that, it was very important that I made it to the top on my own. It was important not so I could get to the top and stick my tongue out to the people who used guides, but because I thought it would be a real challenge to be able to navigate my way all alone, as I've never done anything remotely like this ever before.

There would be obstacles...
- the access road that leads to the trail is just across the street from the trekking office, which is always on patrol
- the barking dogs drawing attention to me
- getting to the access road without crossing the trekking office

I woke up at 2:40, put all my necessary items in my day pack, and quietly left my hostel. I was about a half mile from the access road, and needed to avoid the main road so that I could go unnoticed. There were three hotels, two restaurants, and some houses separating me from the access road. Here's how it went down... (written in present tense).

I tip toe out of my room and run to the wall. I can't use my head lamp, it will wake the stray dogs. I trip in a ditch. I get to the wall, scale it, and jump over. Four dogs start barking, so I run faster to the next wall, which separates all these compounds. I feel very covert and James Bondish. Climbing, crawling, making haste, slowing down... its an intense, blind few minutes. Now the hard part. I'm across the street from the trekking office and a guy is standing outside. I have to be out in the open for about thiry yards before the nearest barrier can hide me. I wait for him to turn around, and as if there are NFL teams clocking my 40, I bolt to a parked car, successfully hiding me from view. Dogs barking loudly and some lamps giving me little visibility, I make the last dash to the access road unnoticed, sprinting into the hills... hard part's over, right?

There are a bunch of paths... too many, actually. So many, I have to turn back around a bunch of times. A farmer that was walking around is nice enough to point me the way, and off I go. With my headphones blaring, my I-Pod fully charged, I'm amped, excited, and ready to eat this mother fucking volcano for a late night snack. The path is very narrow, and at times hard to define, but my headlamp is showing me the way. I'm climbing, sliding, maneuvering, and progressing my way up. A steady hour ahead of every other trekker, I'm excited to get to the top on my own.

I'm up, pretty far up, and I'm losing my path. It seems less trodden and more wilderness. Crazy Murray from New Zealand, remember him? He taught me how to read trails while on our hike, so I have an idea of what to look for. There are spots where if I step two feet to the right I could fall fifty feet. But the trail is still somewhat here, and I keep at it. But now its getting to the point where I feel astray, so I climb back down to a spot where the trail is thicker and look for new dirt. My 46 year old I-Pod quits on the way back down, so I have nothing but nature to listen to, which isn't all that bad, but it was more fun rapping "I'm a beast, I'm a dawg, I'm a mother fuckin' problem", while climbing up a mountain, ya know?

I find a new path, one I didn't notice earlier, and take it. I even find garbage along the way, so I know I'm good at this point. But the higher I get, the less it looks like a way to the top. My head lamp is dimming a bit, and I get lost for a few minutes trying to find a new trail. I get nervous for a moment, but know I must keep my head... nothing good ever happens to the guy freaking out on a mountain by himself in the middle of the night! I decide to wait by a rock until I see some flashlights, signs of other trekkers. I wait... but no one. Its nearly five, and surly people should be half way up by now. After debating what to do, I descent 2/3's of the way back down. Clearly off target, I find a new trail and shoot one more time. But after 15 minutes I get really lost, and even though I am on low ground, it isn't a clear place. I eventually find my route, and decide to throw in the towel. Dejected, dirty, and defeated, I gaze to the top of the mountain and see cameras flashing... an extra hard slap in the face.

(Back to reporting in past tense) The following morning I retraced my steps from the beginning just to see where I went wrong. As it turned out, I went wrong at step one. At the very end of the access road there is a temple and next to the temple there are two paths: one that hugs the side of the temple, leading to a beautifully laid out, wide trail to the very top, and another trail that leads away from the temple, up a small trail that zig zags up rocks, around trees, through brush, and is used by farmers to chop wood... guess which one I took.

I couldn't stand waiting a whole 'nother day to do it again, so I left town. It's alright, though, Bali is small and I can easily get back in two hours from anywhere on the island... I can't let one little 'night lost in the woods' get me down!

Ubud

After a great week of shaving a few years off my life in Kuta, I ventured an hour and a half north to Ubud, the cultural epi-center of Bali. In Ubud, I have been experiencing the real Bali, walking through streets filled with centuries old temples, beautiful Balinese architecture, and traditioanl dance. Ubud is a collection of small villages, surrounded by amazing stretches of rice paddies and greenery. Yesterday I took a motor bike and went to some of Bali's oldest temple ruins and cruised through some of the smaller villages. The scenery is epic and the people are so wonderful.

Although tourism and development somewhat takes over a town, Ubud has done a fine job of keeping its traditional roots. The guest houses, called homestays here, are built into beautful verandas and gardens, and just sitting on the terrace reading my book is an experience. It's nice getting away from the busy life back in Kuta and just taking it easy here in Ubud, breathing in the culture and learning about Bali.

Below is one of Bali's oldest and reknown temple ruins, Gunung Kawi, which dates back to mid 900.

The Ceremony

Ubud is the place in Bali to experience Balinese dance, which is a very colorful, ornate and traditional show. They involve telling stories through dance, usually about good vs. evil and monsters and black magic, spirits and demons. It's very cool. The costumes are beautiful and decorative, and its certainly something that is central to Balinese culture. The shows are performed in the town center at various locations, however, for the true investigator, one can witness an authentic Balinese dance performance at a temple during a ceremony, seen by and performed only for locals. The shows in the town center are great, but it is geared for tourists. I was in search of a show where I would be the only foreigner in the crowd. Only then would I feel that I saw some real Balinese dance.

I started talking to locals, who are extremely friendly and generous, and learned that there was a ceremony going on all week long, day and night, at a huge temple complex a few miles outside of town. The ceremony falls for one week only once a year on the full moon, so it truly was a special time. And it is there that I can see authentic Balinese dance. I took a ride on a motorbike with a local to the temple, but first he had to dress me properly. I couldn't walk into a Hindu temple wearing a t-shirt and shorts. I had to dress in a sarong with a scarf wrapped around my waist and a head dress.

The scene at the temple was amazing. There had to have been 2,000 people at this temple, and ALL were Balinese. I was at the temple for four hours, and I saw only three foreigners, which made me feel good. I met a really nice local boy named Wyann and he showed me around. He then led me into a large praying ground, pictured below. I said to him, "But what do I say, I don't know what to do?" And in his broken English he said to me, "It no matter. You speak through heart." And that was that. I got holy water dropped on my head, I held the flowers in my palms, I breathed in the insence. I did what the Hindus did. It was far and away the most authentically cultural experience of my trip.

Below is me dressed in the temple, a scene from the performance where the demon casts a spell on the villagers, forcing them to turn on themselves, and the praying ground where I sat with Wyann and "spoke through heart."

Right.

An asshole dancing like an asshole...

The Wingman

Being a good wingman is a skill that takes alot of practice, it's no easy gig, mind you. It's an adventure, filled with a plethora of possibilities. Life isn't like a box of chocolates... being a wingman is. Although it helps to be good friends with the guy you are winging for, it is not neccessary. What is most important, however, is good nonverbal communication skills between the two. And although being a wingman is not always a fun task, it is ultimately an act of good will, a selfless deed that should fall under the title of a "Good Samaritan Act".

I've been going out nonstop in Kuta for the last five nights. And I don't mean talking in a quiet bar for a couple hours, I mean raging face and broin' out, dancing till 5 a.m. then getting up to surf at 10. It's definitely Full Moon Party-esque. Anyways, last night I really wanted to go to bed early, however, a guy named Josh who I've been sharing a room with met two Canadian girls that were new to Kuta and wanted to hang out. I had ZERO interest... but like a doctor, a good wingman is always on call... write that down. As it turns out, these Canadians were on Team I-Hate-Americans-And-Think-They-Are-Igorant-Pricks. I learned this five minutes after meeting them, when I was ask if I knew the capital of Canada and who their Prime Minister is. What is this Who Wants to be a Millionaire? I knew neither of those answers, and if I had any incling of the trashing that would ensue, I would have Googled my ass off and learned everything about Canada.

I was talking to Katie, who was very pretty but her voice was extremely annoying. Her voice, plus highlighting everything that is wrong with my country, made me wanna give her the Stone Cold Stunner. "I had an operation of my right arm that would have cost $300,000 in the States, but my country paid for all of it. I can't afford that! Can you imagine if my right arm had to be amputated? And I'm a righty!" You get the picture?

Luckily, Josh gave me "the look" that he was bored with the one he was talking with and wanted to switch. Like FedEx, a good wingman delivers. Well I wish this FedEx truck crashed in the middle of the road, because this one was far worse than her friend. I was basically being trashed for 30 minutes about how "Americans don't know shit, they suck, they think they're better than everyone, blah, blah, blah, I'm a dirty tramp... " I wanted to give her a Rock Bottom followed by the People's Elbow.

But what was I to do? I can't shun my responsibilities. Remember, this isn't about me, it's about the guy I'm winging. Ten minutes later he said, "Let's bail", I told him "Thank God", told the girls, "America's very big on Botox, try some", and got the fuck outta there...

More Kuta

I've been surfing like crazy the last few days. Boards just cost a couple of bucks for the whole day, so I've been going into the water with them three or four times a day. It's awesome. Part of the reason why Kuta is so much fun is because of the way people meet each other. There's a group of steps outside of a convenient store. They're on a busy side street, but there's nothing special about these steps. But for some reason, the steps are the main meet up spot for everyone before the night gets going. Whether you are traveling by yourself or traveling with five friends, you go to the steps, meet a bunch of new people, then go to the clubs together and have a great time. So over the course of a few days, I've gotten to meet a lot of really cool people and constantly have mates to hang out with.

While I was in Sydney, my hair was looking pretty ratty and something needed to be done. I went to the barber and I told him to work his magic. He told me he wanted to give me a mohawk and I said, "No problem." Okay don't freak out Grandma, it isn't the mohawk you're thinking of. I guess by American standards it called a fo-hawk. Its just cut in such a way that has it shorter on the sides and longer in the middle, but it's not a legit mohawk. One guy I met from Toronto, Josh, has a legit mohawk, shaven all around and longer in the middle. So since he's got the mohawk and I've got the fo-hawk, we call ourselves the MoFo Combo. I guess it's one of those, "You had to be there situations."

On a more serious note, a night club here in Kuta Beach got bombed by Muslim terrorists a few years back. The site is just a couple minutes walk from my hostel, and a lot of people from a lot of different countries were killed. The attack was directed at Westerners, and the majority of people killed were Australian. In place of the night club, which obviously got destroyed, is a memorial with all the names of people killed and their home country.

Below is a clip of The Steps... a great place to start the night!

Drop It Like It's Hot

There's something very exciting, very inspiring about cracking open a fresh, brand new Lonely Planet guide book and reading through the adventures that lay upon you. Bali is a tiny island filled with more culture and activities, surfing and beach bumming, and hiking and mountain climbing than you could shake a stick at (who thought of that saying?). There's even an active volcano on the island. So, I'm really looking forward to getting into all of it.

I have spent the last couple of days on Kuta Beach, Bali's main tourist town and backpacker area. It's where everyone spends their short holiday or the beginning of their long Bali expedition. There's descent waves to surf, although the best are more south, and the nightlife is definitely towards the top of my list. I'm happy that I can go out wearing my bathing suit and sandals again!

Kuta is a really groovy, interesting town. It's definitely built up, but somehow it has managed to maintain its authenticity and original style. There's dozens of quirky alleyways filled with shops and little homes. Some of the alley ways lead to main streets and some little alley ways lead to more little alley ways, sprayed all around in no particular direction and with no particular lay out. The beach is fantastic, and for some reason, fantastic for the exact opposite reasons of why I love beaches. The sand is grainy and tan and the water is nothing near an interesting hue of any sort. It is acutally kind of murky. But the beach just has tons of personality and great vibes. It's great for reasons I can't describe... it just is.

Two days agon, I was sitting on a random side street when I ran into two Brazilians I was hanging with back in Ko Phangan, Thailand. That was over two months ago. We never said good bye to eachother and we never talked about future travel plans, so it was really cool to see eachother again. The Brazilians, myself, and two Italian dudes have been hanging the last few nights, dancing to some good 'ol hip hop... FINALLY!

Hellooooooo Bali!

Got into Bali at midnight last night, walked around for two hours until I finally found a place, paid $4.50, took an ice cold shower that comes out of a hose, flopped down on a dirty, rickety bed, laid my head on a "pillow", and went to sleep. Ahhhhh, back to the real world. The real world of being a backpacker, that is.

Bro-in' Out

Just finished up a great weekend out and about in Melbourne. On Saturday I experienced an authentic Aussie BBQ at a friend's house out in the suburbs. Later that night I was met with a very difficult decision... I had the choice to either a) meet up with a group of great looking Aussie chicas who couldn't get enough of the American accent, or b) meet up with a really great couple of guys I met back in Phuket.

The choice was an easy one: I'll take a good bro night over anything.

I met Nick and Jonsey in Phuket the night of the New Year water festival. It was night and everyone was getting all dressed to go out. But they didn't know that there were a certain few who were still "celebrating" the new year. So as these Euro grease balls, all suited up, walked up to Club Hollywood, they were doused with buckets of water. Long story short, I met these two while enjoying the events aforementioned. I was down to my last dollar, but they treated me as if the three of us were best mates, and we got along like it, too. I couldn't get the next round and I let it be known well in advance, but all I got was a "No worries, mate." We hung out the whole night, and although I urged that I wasn't at all hungry at the end of the night, they insisted. I told them that when I got to Melbourne we'd be squared.

The weekend concluded with a visit to Etihad Stadium with Kate and Jarrod for an Aussie Rules Football game between the Collingwood Magpies and the St. Kilda Saints. It's traditional to eat a meat pie at Aussie Football games, kind of like eatting a hot dog at a baseball game. I told them that I'd give it the first half before I decided which team to root for, check that, barrack for (to 'root' for someone in Australia means to fuck them). So I returned to my seats at the start of the second half donning Magpies gear, and they ended up losing 128-40, which is the equivalent of an NFL game ending in a score of 50-10... go figure.

Australia is great and my plan was to tour the entire east coast, but it is approaching winter and it is getting too cold for me. I would love to come back, but it needs to be in the summer.

So tomorrow I'm on a plane for................................... see ya there!

Pictures

I just added the last of my Thailand albums, my first Melbourne album, and all of my Sydney pictures, which cover three seperate albums.

The Sydney albums might be some of my favorite pictures of the trip, partly because they are with people who I love that I never get to see, but also because there is such an ecclectic variety of city life mixed with amazing beach scenery. Enjoy.

Melbourne and My I Pod

Got into Melbourne yesterday, very cool place. It's a very edgy city with alot of personality. There's tons of little alley ways off of side streets filled with bohemian eateries, shops, and bars. I'm staying with a friend who I met over the summer at Yankee Stadium. She has an apartment right across the street from the 50,000 seat Aussie Rules Football Stadium, so I like the view. Aussie Rules Football is the best in Melbourne, with a dozen teams and the best players, so I'm definitely going to see a game or two to witness the Australian rivalies equivalent of the Mets vs. Yankees and the Giants vs. Eagles.

My I Pod is on it's last leg. Since Channukah of 2003, my white, original, buttons on top of the wheel music blaster has been a loyal friend. Accompanying me on numerous trips all over the globe and getting me mentally prepped for hundreds of games, matches, and events, this slender little baby has seen it, done it, and been through it all. It was with me on my first Spring Break to the Bahamas when I was 18. It was with me in the wrestling gym, blasting Glass Jaw up until the moment before my match for the state championship when I was 16. It was with me playing A-Ha's "Take on Me" during pregame warm ups before my first game as a starter against Wake Forest, helping to take my mind away from shitting myself. And it's always been there to let me sing my lungs out on a long car ride.

My I Pod, like an old person losing their mind (but not you grams), refuses to play certain songs, shuts off even if the battery is full, skips songs randomly, and varies it's level of volume depending on whats playing. I don't have it in me to get rid of it... there's just too many happy memories in all of those songs that have been there from Jew Fest '03. Like Rocky, I need it to fight one more round, and get through the rest of this trip for me.

My Ocean

My life is the ocean... And in my ocean there are a lot of waves. These waves are events, opportunities, occurrences, people, situations, you name it. And I am on a surf board, riding. I am surfing now, not later, not soon. I am always surfing now, while at the same time peeking just ahead at what waves are upon me. An exciting ocean is one filled with tons of waves, big and small, conquered and unconquered, ridden on a board that is strong but scuffed, solid but dented here and there from wave after wave. Some I ride and some I let pass. But the ocean is unpredictable, and at times there can be no waves at all, while at times there can be so many rough waves I just can't catch my breath. But I trust that my board is a strong and sturdy one, and I know I can battle any wave, whether I ride it all the way to shore or it throws me under.

Now, my ocean is big and there a ton of options. I can choose to stay in the calmer area where I know there is no risk in riding the small waves. I can jump on a little wave and ride it all the way, looking good but mostly avoiding the risk of falling off and getting thrown under the current. And if I slip off and fall from a small wave, well hey, it's no big deal really, its like stubbing my toe over a rock. Or I can take my board, which has evolved over time, hardened with each wave I've ridden and fallen from, and go to an area in my ocean where its a bit more unpredictable, where the waves are a bit larger and random. Here, of course, the consequences of falling from a wave is much greater. I can get thrown under the current and dragged out into an uncontrollable rip tide. But then again, is falling off of a giant really a terrible thing? It seems that its more about having the burning desire, stemming from deep in the pit of my stomach, to take on a giant wave, one that I may not be quite ready for, but one I've decided to jump on because it's a challenge that doesn't have a guaranteed outcome, yet could hold an infinite amount of possibilities.

And then there's that giant wave that you do catch. But keep in mind it's a big one, and these are the most unpredictable. I could ride it and end up in a very different part of my ocean, in an unfamiliar part that I haven't yet explored. It may lead me way away from where I planned to be or where I originally was, and it may take me a while to paddle back. But if I catch the right wave and take it all the way... the reward is so much greater than taking in 100 small waves.

There's those times in life, in that ocean, where ya just got to get on that wave... and enjoy the ride. The trophies of waves ridden and triumphed don't mean much unless the ride has truly been cherished. It's not about conquering the wave... It's about the ride. It's all about the ride. It's about getting on and falling off after a few seconds. It's about getting on and falling off right away. It's about getting on and riding it as long as it allows before throwing me off, because as we all know, no wave goes on forever. A wave ends just as a new wave begins. But it's all about the ride...

After all my surfing is finished, if I can't stand on the beach and look back into my ocean, proud of the waves I've experienced, ridden, and been thrown off of; if I can't stand on the beach, proud that I explored areas I was unfamiliar with, took chances, risked failure, and surfed it all with an open heart... it will all have been a series of missed opportunities. And these opportunities I will never know unless I keep surfing.

Surf's Up, Dude!

After a full four days of touring Sydney, learning it's ins and outs, and taking advantage of the city's public transport... it was finally time to surf. High tide was at 2 o'clock, so I got in the water at 1:30 to warm up and get used to being back on a board. Now, I am definitely not a pro, but I have gone a few times and can ride a small wave straight to shore, but cannot turn. These waves at famous Bondi Beach literally kicked my ass. The waves were pretty big, six to seven footers with really clean breaks. As a result of these waves dropping off so high, you have to turn and ride the wave as it breaks, otherwise you just drop from seven feet high off the crest of the wave, ultimately loosing your balance and getting thrown like a rag doll. So me, not able to make any turns, paddled, stood up on the crest of the wave, rode it until it broke, then dropped seven feet and crashed and burned. At times I got thrown pretty bad, especially since I didn't have a chance to take a breath before getting tossed underneath. This area of Bondi was not for beginners, however, it was a blast getting on a board and riding some real waves.

Sydney

After a great four days with Jono at his place, I went just a few minutes down the road to Jeff's apartment, set right on the southern tip of Bondi Beach. I met Jeff, from Dallas, while in Prague with J.D. in May of 2006. Me and J.D were walking out of a club when we saw a group of American guys waiting in a long line. We told them not to bother going in, as the place was filled with dudes, and we kept on walking. The following night we ran into the same group of guys and ended up hanging with them the next three nights. Over the years, Jeff and I kept in touch, mostly exchanging stories about our travels. He spent a couple of years working in London as a tax consultant and then returned back to Dallas for a little bit. Just before I left for Thailand, he drove up from Dallas to hang out when I went down to Austin, and he told me that his company was transferring him to Sydney shortly after that. So, the moral of the story is... keep in touch with people, because you never know when you're going to cross paths again. I met a guy outside of a random club in a random European city, and now I am sitting on the couch in his apartment, overlooking the waves crashing on Bondi Beach.

Sydney has been pretty cool so far. After a fun weekend of going out and getting to know the city's nightlife, I started the sightseeing on Monday. Jeff took off from work and we started out with the basic walking tour, visiting some memorials and historic sights. The architecture of the city is quite fascinating. After cruising through a large botanical garden we saw the world famous Sydney Opera House.

Today I took some buses and trains across the city to get to Darling Harbour, another iconic Sydney site. The Harbour is mostly surrounded by expensive hotels and restaurants, but back in the day it was home to numerous industrial factories. It was really nice to walk around and watch everyone sitting around the Harbour, enjoying the nice weather with a book, some on their lunch break, or just sitting. I figure I'll do a day or two more of site seeing before I start the surfing. I know once I get on the board I'm not gonna get off, which is why I am knocking out all the site seeing first. The weather here is warm, but it is not beach weather anymore. The majority of people left on Bondi are surfers, as it cools down at night enough for a longsleeve shirt.

ANZAC Day, Rugy, and Aussie Rules Football

Yesterday, here in Australia, was the national holiday known as ANZAC Day, commemorating their fallen troops. Along with parades and fire works, each bar and pub hosts a game called Two Up. Two Up involves two coins on a wooden paddle. Prior to a person flipping the paddle, everyone in the crowd places bets amongst each other as to whether the coins will land heads or tails. There is one coin flipper for the whole bar, standing on a platform with a judge who shouts the results. If the two coins flipped land on both heads and tails, everyone boos and the coins must be flipped again. If the coin flipper throws a "no result" three times, he/she must get down and do push ups in front of a chanting crowd. You don't want to be that guy... You don't want to be that guy. This event is fun for everyone because it is the only day in which Two Up is legal. It was a game played by Australian soldiers back in World War I, the reason why it is only legal on ANZAC Day. Some people bet $100, $50, $20, or as little as $5. I found $5 on the floor, bet tails, and lost.

I got a heavy dose of the Aussie sports scene, too. I saw a Rugby game at a small stadium, and it was very confusing at first, but I caught on quickly. There's actually two forms of Rugby; Rugby Union and Rugby League. The rules are slightly different. Now, Aussie Rules Football is a an awesome game. Played with a Rugby ball, the idea is to bring the ball all the way down to the endzone, but points are only scored when you kick it through a field goal-like structure. You can pass the ball via punching it and kicking it to teammates, and can tackle and wrestle the ball away just like in Rugby. It's a rough game, but very cool. But it can be difficult because being an amazing athlete isn't enough. You must be a very good kicker as well.

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Sydney

Hey guys and gals. Well, I'm rested up and rejuvenated in Sydney, Australia at my fav mate Jono's house. I met Jono, along with a couple other people I'm visiting in Sydney, while on my Birthright trip to Israel two summers ago. I haven't done too much sight seeing yet. I rested up all of yesterday and took it easy, then went out to a club with Jono and his girlfriend Sarah, who is from Philly and I also met on the Birthright trip, but now lives and works in Sydney. So prior to hitting the club, I was debriefed on the social differences between Australia and the States:

• No one "grinds" when they dance in Australia.
  

Ya just kind of dance near eachother.

• When you go out, you dress up.

In New York, you have your posh clubs where you dress up and pay crazy cover charges and walk around like an asshole all night with your $18 drinks. But then you also have your bars and small clubs where you can dress however you want and pay for normally priced drinks. But in Sydney, every place is considered "dressy" and there is no such place as a grungy dive bar. So, sport coats and suits are a norm. I wore a crummy button down that was buried deep in my backpack and had to borrow a pair of nice shoes three sizes too big. It was that or risk not getting in.

Jono's house is very interesting. His parents are orthodox Jews, and Jono's grandparents are Holocaust survivors from Poland. They were liberated from Auschwitz and immigrated to Sydney in the late 1940's. As some of you may or may not know, Orthodox Jews do not mix milk and meat products during meals. So in the Jono household, there are seperate sinks, microwaves, silverware, stoves, and table cloths for milk and meat. We had Shabbis dinner last night (the Jewish Sabbath) and had a wonderful mix of Challah bread and hummus.

I love good hummus, especially when there are people involved.

The picture below is from Israel two summers ago. Jono is far left, Warren is in the middle, and Sarah is kind of in the picture far right.

Rock.

Just got into Sydney... can't keep my eyes open... visiting a bunch of friends here... staying at my friend Jono's house, I met him in Israel two summers ago... I'll write again when my eyes want to open.

Can I Buy You a Beer From 7-11?

After a couple of days of air conditioning, a big comfortable bed, a television, and fast and free internet at Eli's brother, Richy's, apartment, I went back to the main back packer street of Khao San Rd. to enjoy my last couple of days in Thailand. Tim, who I met at the Full Moon Party and travelled with for a couple weeks, is back in Bangkok too, so we got a room together. He was one of the twelve other solo travellers who all buddied up during that week, and now that I think about it, I can't believe that was almost six weeks ago. So, it's only proper that we leave Thailand with a big bang, and I'm really happy that I get to close out the country with one of my favorite guys I've met in Thailand.

It's funny being back in Bangkok. When I first got here on January 29th I hated it. I was some poor shmuck with a big backpack on, being tugged left and right by Thai guys trying to get me into their taxis, Indian guys asking me if I wanted to try on a suit, annoying Thai women yelling "you want massaaaage?", and a creeper asking me if I wanted to check out a ping-pong show (take a wild guess what a ping-pong show is). But after being in Thailand for 12 weeks, you learn that it's part of travelling here and you get accustomed to it. You learn how to playfully deflect the annoying hawkers in your face all the time by telling the Indian guy that it's 150 degrees outside, what the fuck am I gonna do with a suit, asking the massage ladies how much they would pay if instead I gave them a massage, and telling the creeper that I'll only go to the ping-pong show if he was performing.

Tim and I ran into a guy we knew from a few islands back and hung out with him and his couple of friends for the night. Depending on where you are, sometimes a really fun way of spending the night is getting a dirt cheap beer at 7-11 (there's a million of them here), sitting on the curb outside, and enjoying the hustle and bustle go by, making cracks at everything and everyone. And if the street is filled with clubs and expensive bars, it's the absolute cheapest way to enjoy the evening. One of the English guys with us called to a pretty blonde girl walking passed. He introduced himself as did she, and in the most sincere way he asked her, "Can I buy you a beer from 7-11?" The four of us couldn't control the laughter that followed.

I saw a guy wearing a Boston Red Sox hat. I asked him if he was from Boston. He playfully responded with, "I don't wear this hat for nothing." So I gave him a high five and said, "Fuck the Patriots." But, we were all joking, and he was actually a really cool guy. He and his girlfriend just recently got finished taking bicycles and riding all the way from Bangkok down through Malaysia into Singapore. Pretty cool.

My flight takes off tomorrow at 4 p.m., arriving in Hong Kong whenever. I wait an hour then get on a plane to Sydney, arriving the next day. I'll try to write something tomorrow before I leave, as I hope to have a good story from my last night in Bangkok.

I'm Okay

Just wanted to write and let everyone know that I am safe. There have been some problems in Bangkok over the last few days and it is dying down now. Political riots have taken over certain parts of the city, and although only a few people have been killed, buses have been set on fire and military tanks have been brought in. I was hundreds of miles away from Bangkok when the protests were at it's peak, and luckily, Bangkok was the only location where riots were taking place. So I was totally fine.

But I am in Bangkok now and everything is pretty much settled... so no worries!

Phuket and the Songkran Festival

Phuket... the wealthiest and most expensive province in Thailand and most commonly pronounced, foo-ket. But poo-ket, as it is correctly pronounced, has more interesting twists and turns than an old school M. Night Shyamalan movie. I arrived in Patong Beach, undoubtedly one of the richest towns in all of Thailand. It was like stepping back into the real world again, running past McDonald's and Starbucks just like I did in Ko Samui. But Ko Samui has nothing on Patong's shopping mall, complete with all the stores we have back home. There was even a movie theater in it, which I thought was pretty cool. That night I went to see Fast and the Furious 4, which I liked, but going to see it was more about experiencing a foreign theater. This town was so expensive, I didn't eat in a restaurant for two days, I just ate street food... which is fine, it's all part of the experience.

Patong Beach wins the award for being the sleaziest, cheesiest, and most awesome town all at the same time. What's weird about this place is that it is a family destination as well as a town filled with hookers, lady boys, and sketchy European dudes looking to "try things for the first time". All day long you see husbands and wives holding thier young children's hands, but when the sun goes down and dinner's over, the strips of bars open up, the corny, pony tail-wearing men come out, and the LadyBoys start shakin' their... whatever the hell it is they got down there.

What was significant about my experience at Patong Beach was that it was during the Songkarn Festival, the Thai New Year. Simply put, the Thai New Year is an all out water fight. Thousands of people fill the streets with Super Soakers and buckets in hand, and you just start firing away at people. And if you don't have a Super Soaker, you stand at one of the bars next to a big tub of water and splash passer byers. You will not and cannot stay dry. I was soaking wet head to toe from 11:30 a.m. until 2:00 a.m. And no one is exempt from getting soaked... policeman, guy driving a motorbike, old wrinkled woman, they're all getting wet. I would have loved to have recorded a video of the event, but it was an absolute impossibility, as the moment I stepped outside I was hit in all directions by water guns and hoses.

Walking down the street early in the day, Super Soaker in hand, I teammed up with three guys from Seattle and we had a day soaking and getting soaked. We joined a bar's team with other people that were drinking there and protected the bar from other "soakers". We posted up and unleashed on anyone walking by, often singling out an unlucky fellow wearing shorts that were just alittle too short by American standards. So along with the Seattle guys, we had some Aussies, Scandavians, and loud screaming Thai girls. Whenever I saw someone walk by wearing a Yankees hat, I made everyone understand why that person needed to be absolutely drowned in water. Luckily, one of the Seattle boys was a 'Sox fan, so atleast he truly understood the fury behind it. Thai guys and Europan guys wearing these Yanks hats probably had no idea what "Fuck you, you Yankee fuck!" meant, but they all still deserved the 8-on-1 water malay. I saw one guy wearing a Dallas Cowboys jersey and a Thai guy wearing a Rutgers Football shirt, so I made sure their ears were filled with as much water as possible.

Because we were getting wet every minute of the day, we went out that night wearing nothing special. I wore a pair of mesh shorts and a ripped up white tee, without any underwear. This served to be quite problematic, as "the tuck" became my biggest ally of the night. The club scene is a blast, as long as you are skilled in the art of fighting off ladies, boys, and ladyboys grabbing at your crotch all night.

Just so you have evidence that I am not exaggerating any of this, enjoy this You Tube clip of last year's Festival...

Making Friends and Making Money

The other week I was sitting at a table on a sidewalk in a small city munching on some delicious street food, when a woman walked by and asked if she could sit down and join me. She ordered food as she ntroduced herself and we started talking. I know it sounds weird to just sit down with someone you don't even know, but in travel-mode it's the customary thing to do. I can't even count how many travel buddies I've made just by walking passed a table and being asked to sit down for a drink, or asking the table next to me if they wanted to sit together. It's really cool to be able to do that and not have to worry about being looked at as nuts.

When I was in Ko Phi Phi Don I worked for a night at this Irish Pub. They needed Westerners to walk around town passing out flyers to promote, so i figured I'd do it. The pay was 300 Baht from 8-12 and free drinks for the night. Thats around $8.50, which doesn't sound like alot, but that's half of what I spend in a day. So that ended up covering my accomodation for the night plus a big dinner. That was the good part... the bad part was that I had to be "that guy" for an entire night. You know, "that guy", the annoying dude outside the bars saying, "Hey ladies come to my place tonight, free drinks, two for one, blah, blah, blah." By the way, I'm never refusing a flyer ever again. I felt really stupid when I offered someone a flyer and they denied me. That sounds dumb, but it's true... It's like,

"Hey man two for one tonight, here's a flyer."
"No thanks."
"Okay, I'll just go fuck myself."

I got denied so much I started passing out flyers to little kids walking down the street with their parents. Atleast they took the freakin' paper.

"Hey little man, half off buckets all night, go get wrecked."

They didn't know what I was saying, but they sure looked happy getting that little piece of paper.

Ahhhhhh Railay!

Some of you have asked me if I've been getting bored living the beach life for so long. Some of you have mentioned that if you've seen a couple you've seen them all. The great thing about Thailand's beaches is that no two are the same. Some have turqoise waters, some have blue, and some have emerald green. Some beaches are engulfed in mountains and some are surrounded by limestone cliffs. Some beaches are long and deserted and some are short and crowded. Some have beautiful coral right below the surface and some have nothing but sweet white sand through and through... you get the picture.

For example, right now I'm at this really unique beach called Railay in the Krabi Province. Huge limestone cliffs sprout out of the waters like wildflowers all around the sea and the water is the most interesting shade of emerald green. Little swim throughs lead into the cliffs from the sea. It's a beach unlike anything I've seen before. So, in response to the questions, no I am not getting bored seeing all of these beaches because every new location has a different style, personality, and characteristics.

Today I saw a guy accidentally run over a little girl while trying to make a play on an errant Kadima pass. It was very a-la Max Pachman at Jones Beach.

"The Beach"

It was the night of September 1, 2006. No matter what I tried to do, I couldn't fall asleep. I was in a comfortable bed, the air conditioning kept me cool, and my belly was full. But I couldn't fall asleep... my mind was racing too much, because the next morning I was going to be playing in my first college football game returning punts against Wake Forest in North Carolina. The anticipation kept me up all night, the excitment mixed with some nerves. Why am I telling you this story? Well, there have been very few times in my life where I've had the same feelings that kept me awake that night in the hotel room in Raleigh-Duram, North Carolina.

Last night I had those feelings.

Most of us have seen the movie "The Beach", Leo DiCaprio's movie with him and the unreal beach. It was filmed on an island called Ko Phi Phi Leh, right next to the main island of Ko Phi Phi Don where I was staying. It is a small island in a chain of small islands that is protected by the goverment, which means construction is regulated or prohibited. Construction on Ko Phi Phi Leh is prohibited and therefore there are no accommodation options. Day tours come in and they come out, and public transport to this island does not exist. But since the movie came out, Ko Phi Phi Leh has become the biggest tourist attraction Thailand has ever seen. Hundreds of people each day flock to Maya Bay, the beach made famous by the film for its unbelievable water color and limestone cliff back drop. After much investigation, swimming in peace and quiet without boats and people is impossible, and from 9:30-3:30, forget about even snapping a picture of just you and the wonderful background. The beach is way too small and the boats and people are too a-plenty. As I wrote before and as cliche as it sounds, this beach was what sparked my interest in Thailand. If God came down to me and said, "Max, I'll give you this beach to yourself for 30 minutes, but in exchange you have to wipe out all of your memories of your 10 weeks of travel," it wouldn't even be a thought, I'd take that deal in a heartbeat. Obviously, this deal would never even be an option, and unless I yanked the motors off of every boat within a 100 mile radius, I was going to be sharing it with hundreds of others. So how was I going to make sure I had this beach all to myself, even for just a little bit?

I wrote that when I arrived on the main island of Ko Phi Phi Don a few days ago, I found this awesome deserted beach with a few locals living there. One of the locals is a squid fisherman, who fishes all day, comes back to the shore to pick up his wife, and sells the catch at the night market. Khai, the squid fisherman, was nice enough to give me a lift all the way back to the main beach I was staying at one day when it started pouring. So I went back to that beach the next day, and with the help of a translator, worked out a deal with Khai. Khai agreed, as I expected he would, and I told him I'd see him tomorrow. So how does all of this relate to the night before a first game and staying awake all night and blah, blah, blah?

The alarm on my phone went off at 5 a.m. It didn't wake me up, though, as my eyes were wide awake the entire night. Sleep? Impossible, with the thoughts of what was about to happen. I woke up four other people in the dorm who also wanted to come along, and we got ready. At 5:15 we stopped at a market and stocked up on chips, cookies, water, and bananas. We had a thirty minute hike ahead... Khai was waiting for us at the deserted beach with his long tail boat. I walked as fast as the group would allow, back through the rocks, over the hills, and past the jungle. It was just before 6 when we reached the deserted beach, and waiting for us was Khai, right on time... he was about to take us to "The Beach", and god damnit I was going to be the first one there.

With Charlie and Jordan from London, KJ and Stian from Norway, and Khai the boat driver, we set out for the famed beach at 6:15 in the morning. I was going to have that beach to myself, and I was just minutes away. We pulled into Maya Bay at Ko Phi Phi Leh at around 6:45 and sprinted to the sand. We sat on a tree stump and dumped out all of our snacks. We waved good bye to Khai and thanked him for the ride and the bananas he gave us. We dug into the cookies and cereal we bought, chugged some water, and looked in awe at what we had infront of us. Here it was, the famous beach that was so nice a movie was shot here. Here it was, the biggest tourist attraction in all of Thailand... And I only had to share it with four other people. And all we did for 30 minutes was sit and repeat to eachother, "We're here... and it's just us."

The boats started pouring in at 9:30, and by 10:30 it became a circus, not a beach. One of the Norwegians and I took a swim to one of the corners of the bay where there weren't many boats, and when we returned we couldn't even see the sand because it was end to end with boats. The sand was as crowded as it was for the Full Moon Party, but by that time we didn't care. We knew it was going to be like this. And it was all okay, we didn't mind. Let the tourists snap their "priceless" photos with 2,455 people in the background. Have fun snorkelling with 490 people next to you. Have a good time dodging a speed boat trying to dock on the beach. We had our two and a half hours of absolute solitude, and there wasn't a tourist or a boat in sight.

It was just us... and "The Beach."

Wanna Throw Up? Get Me Naked.

Wow boys and girls, lots of updates. After my canoe adventures in Ko Muk, I spent a night and a day in Ko Lanta. And I have to admit... I splurged on my hotel. I couldn't deal with slumming it in tents and shacks anymore, so I spent $7 on a nice big bungalow with my own shower and a Western toilet! I know, living life in the fast lane is tough. But anyway, Ko Lanta was nice, but nothing special, so I high tailed it to Ko Phi Phi, one of the most visited, one of the most expensive, and one of the most storied islands in Thailand.

If you've ever seen pictures of a Thai beach, chances are it was a beach in Ko Phi Phi. However, this little island was hit by the 2004 tsunami as hard as any other place in the country. Waves 20 feet high wiped out everything on this island, from the most densely packed tourist areas to the little five star resorts on quiet beaches. Millions of dollars were lost and thousands were killed, and I didn't really understand the tragedy until I talked to a Thai man who told me about how he lost everything. He was sleeping when it happened and lost everything he owned, including his girlfriend. But, like everyone else on the island, they rebuilt and slowly moved on. However, one would figure that after the tsunami hit they would learn to care for their land a bit better. This tiny island couldn't keep up with the rapid building process, and according to most people, the place looks the exact same as it did prior to the tsunami in terms of infrastructure. So, of course, the main beaches of Ko Phi Phi have been ruined by boats, boats, and more boats. The color of the water is outstanding, which is a surprise despite the motor oil seeping into the ocean.

But Adventurous Max wasn't going to let some boats ruin his island paradise. Yesterday I walked, walked, and walked some more. I climbed hills, jumped over rocks, and traversed through the jungle, and eventually stumbled upon a beach hidden from people, development, and BOATS! The only thing on the beach was a small bungalow in the corner, and a couple of local villagers and their huts. This beach was just what I was looking for... deserted white sand with turquoise waters, no boats, and no people.

This island is extremely expensive, and luckily, one place has a 16-bed dorm room, which is a savior for a backpacker on a budget. At first I wasn't too keen on the idea of sleeping with fifteen strangers, but it really is a cool experience. You make friends right away, talk to people non-stop, and go on new adventures. I met two people from the states in my dorm which is half the amount of people from the states I've met in 10 weeks here. I slept in a bed next to a girl from the Lower East Side and hung with a dude from Corpus Christi. People come in and out all the time and it really is a great way to meet people. I am, of course, taking every precaution against being robbed. My bag is chain locked to the bed and all my zippers are pad locked.

Tomorrow I am off on a new adventure to an island just a mile away. I don't want to give away the details yet, as it will be a great post to follow... but I am going to the beach where the movie "The Beach" was filmed. This is my trip right here, what sparked my interest in Thailand. I hope the way in which I am doing this adventure tomorrow goes as planned... Until next time!

A Jew with a Canoe

Forget Thailand's islands and beaches... my mind is in football mode right now. The Giants cut Plaxico, and I, along with the rest of the Giants players, do not approve. If in the event that Plax reached some sort of agreement that would have enabled him to play next season, the G-Men need him! They didn't do a freakin' thing without him that last month of the season, and they need to find a guy to replace him. It takes way too long to cultivate a draft pick into a playmaking, number 1 guy right away these days in the NFL. The Giants need to go after a guy like Anquan Boldin or Braylon Edwards, two guys that want out of their respective cities. Personally, I'd go for Edwards over Boldin because he's 6'3 vs. Boldin's 6'1, and I feel Boldin's success is partly because Fitzgerald is on the other side. Edwards has problems catching the ball, but he's on a shit team in a shit city wearing shit as a jersey color. Put him on a winning team, and he'll go right back to that 'leaping fade in the corner of the endzone' kind of guy he was back in Michigan.

Anyways, I just got off an island that barely had electricity for a few hours a night, which was fun but a little annoying. I slept in a tent in the woods and got my sandals eaten by wild dogs that live in the rubber tree forest. My main reason or visiting Ko Muk was for their Emerald Cave. It's hard to explain, so follow as best as you can...

I had to kayak around the island to this big rock face with a little crevice in it. It was a cave opening, just big enough for me and my kayak to fit in. I paddled through a small river made by the cave, and the further I went the darker it got. Soon, I had no light, and simply kept padling, stabbing my paddle out in front to make sure I wasn't hitting anything. After about two minutes, some light shed into the cave river, and eventually led me to an entrapped beach, surrounded by limestone mountains. I know it's hard to envision, so I'll use this analogy. Imagine you're in the locker room of a football stadium... this is the cave. And you exit the locker room and walk down the tunnel towards the entrance to the field... this is the cave river. And you exit the tunnel and enter the field, surrounded by big tall bleachers and stands. On the far end of the field, instead of an endzone, picture a beach, with the field being the water. Surrounding you is the bleachers and seats, and those were the limestone mountains completely surrounding me. The only way out was back through the cave. It was a pretty unique sight.

I really am nervous for my G-Boys right now, this is a Super Bowl calibur team, and we need to fill this void right away. I can only trust it's being taken care of.

Visas and the Hated American

I wanted to go to Laos really badly. Prior to coming here, I knew nothing of it, nor has many other Americans for that matter. Laos? Do you pronounce the 's' or is it silent? It seemed like nothing worth looking at in the South-east Asian area. But I learned of how great it was very quickly. It is described as a country very hip in culture and deep rooted, and better yet, much less developed than Thailand (if you can imagine). Anyways, it was raved about enough for me to want to go. Typically, travellers go into the north of Thailand and visit the northern hotspots, then go from Chiang Mai into Laos, spend some time up there, dip south-west into Cambodia for a bit, then circle back around into the lower islands and beaches of Thailand.

Sounds like a great plan, right? Well I am an American, and I am the one held responsible for all the world's problems, as if me and George W. shared a bunk bed in the White House. Flashing my passport earns me nothing but snarles. We make our visa situation very difficult for foreigners, so they proudly return the favor. Here's the deal on the visa situation...

Upon arrival via plane you get a free 30 day, single entry visa. You would get the same 30 day, single entry stamp if you arrived by boat, train, or bus as well. But two weeks before I got to Thailand the rule changed, and if you arrived by land or sea you would only get a 15 day visa. Previously, people would travel on their 30 day visa, and if they wished to stay longer, would do what is called a 'visa run' the day before expiration. A visa run is a completely legal and acknowledged method of renewing visas, in which one goes to an official border crossing, (a handful are scattered throughout the country) cross into Burma, Cambodia, or Malaysia (not Laos because you must cross via river and the process takes too long), get an official stamp that you've left Thailand, then turn right around and re-enter Thailand, earning a fresh 30 day visa.

But Thailand did away with the over-land 30 day visa and now only grants 15 day stamps, and because there's only a handful of border crossings around a large country, it makes it difficult to plan your every move around being close to an official border every two weeks. Thailand's motivation for this new policy was to encourage more revenue via air traffic, but this was foolish becuase they alienated the demographic that brings in the largest influx of revenue: the backpacker. How does this all relate to me and being a hated American?

Citizens of other countries that apply to Thailand for a 60 day, single entry visa, get them for free. I am an American, so I pay $35 for mine. Not a big deal. Keep in mind, with these visas I am not permitted to enter and leave and enter and leave. I am only allowed one entry. So if I went up north, like I did, for the 34 days that I did, then went into Laos... upon my return to Thailand I would have ended up eating the rest of the days that I paid for and have been left with 15 days. Furthermore, entering the southern parts of Thailand, there are only two sanctioned border crossings to do border runs, and 15 days from one to the other is way too slim a margin. And there is way too large a fine if you are late on your visa. If they kept their 30 day gig this wouldn't be an issue, beacause it leaves plenty of time to do what you want to do, then take your two, maybe three days if you're in dead center of the country to get to a border. I knew I wanted to see alot of Thailand, and I wasn't interested in jumping the border every two weeks, it's a bigger hassle than it seems. I'll dot on the map the official border crossings so that you, too, can see. So I went to the immigration office and extended my visa for a third month, paid $55, and saved a bunch of headaches and sweaty bus rides, which would have added up to the same amount anyway.

So, yeah, after all that mumbo jumbo, that is why I wasn't able to go to Laos. I guess I can after I'm done with the south, but I'm 1,200 miles away and I would like to get to Australia by the end of April. But it's no sweat, it'll still be there.

Sick.

It was a dark and stormy night... in my head, that is. I turned the lights off promptly at 8 p.m. and went right into bed for what began as hours of agonizing, sleepless pain. For once my stomach wasn't the issue, but every muscle in my body ached, and when I laid in a position for more than a few seconds, it just hurt more. My head felt like it was going to explode, and when the fan was on I got too cold, and after I'd get up to turn it off, I got too hot. I went to pee what seemed like every thirty minutes, and often times I got out of bed feeling as if I were drunk, stumbling down the hall ways, blurry-eyed and bumping into the walls, my equilibrium upside down. I lay back down in bed and the room would spin, but quickly turned into me just spinning around because it would be the only way to alleviate what felt like the devil taking a sledge hammer to my back and clamping a vice to my head. Listen, I've dealt with pain before. I can live with a little tummy ache and a head ache. But this was another level, man. For twelve hours, life was pretty miserable. But there was one positive amongst all of this... my pillows were pretty fluffy, the fluffiest pillows I've had in two-plus months.

I must have taken a cat nap, because I looked at my phone at 4:26 a.m., saw that I had a missed call, and magically, all the pain was gone. I walked down the street that morning pain free, whereas the night before I was walking down the street wishing a car would just smash into me.

I took the entire day to rest up some more, threw back some meds, started reading my new Paulo Coehlo book, found an English written newspaper (as rare as a Bar Mitzvah in South Dakota), and tried to comfort myself as much as possible. Later on, I sat down for some food and rewarded my stomach for being a good teammate and not jumping in on the ass kicking that took place on myself last night, and drank an ice cold Pepsi, something I rarely do. But hey, my belly earned it.

Although no amount of money would make me want to repeat the same hours of pain I went through last night, in retrospect, it was a good, hardening experience for me. I didn't have anyone to rub my back and tell me it was going to be all better in the morning. I didn't have a roommate to bring me some water and a cold towel. I didn't have a tv or a funny movie to distract me from the sickness. I didn't even have the simple opportunity to eat a comforting meal. I had myself, a stuffy $4 room, a rickety fan, a hard bed with no blankets (cheap guest houses don't provide linens), and a prayer that it would all end soon. I had no choice but to suck it up and muscle through the worst feelings in the worst conditions, knowing that it would go away eventually.

While a storms damages the surface, it also waters the soil below.

Ko Lipe & Ko Head-Ache

First off, happy 12th birthday Spencer. Ladies and Gents hello. Sorry I have been out of the loop for a while, I was in an island that was very far away from the mainland and internet was a commodity. Anyways, my stay on Ko Lipe was short. A small island, no more than a couple miles long and a half mile wide, Ko Lipe is a beutiful tiny gem on the Andaman coast (west side of Thailand) all the way down, as close to Malaysia as you can get while still being in Thailand. It WAS a beautiful island, but all of the beaches have been littered with boats and it's impossible to swim for ten minutes without dodging a long tail boat. The sand was a powdery white, the water was an emerald green, but the boats absolutely killed it all. I walked to some quieter, deserted beaches, but they were all full of trash as my guess was it's the garbage dump. It was a huge dissapoinment, and I was only there for a day and a half. It was a bummer because it took me so long to get there. I had to take a 90 minute ferry to the pier from Ko Samui on the other coast, an hour bus ride sitting on the floor to the bus terminal in Surat Thani, a two and a half hour bus ride to Trang, and another 90 minute bus ride to the pier at Pak Bara, near Satun. I spent the night at the pier then took a three and a half hour ferry to Ko Lipe. The map is updated so feel free to update yourself with all my trials and tribulations. But it's alright, you can't win them all.

I also feel like I'm coming down with something. My head is pounding, my lymph nodes are all swollen, my back aches, and my head feels like it weighs 20 pounds. I am currenly back in Trang, working my way up the Andaman coast, and I am headed to this tiny little island called Ko Muk, only 30 minutes on a boat (thank God). I am debating staying the night in the city of Trang and resting, as it's an hour bus to get to the pier. I think I'm going to stay in the city and rest, I legit feel like I'm going to fall over, and my thirty pound bag isn't helping. Alright, I love you all, don't worry, I'll be fine, this happens to every traveller.

The Beach

I just finished reading the book, "The Beach", which was the original story set for the movie starring Leonardo DiCaprio. If you haven't seen it, you must! It's a great story about a traveller finding this picture perfect beach unknown to everyone except a select few that have set up camp and made their lives there. Personally, I liked the movie alot better because you're reading about this beach for two hundred pages and its supposed to be as beautiful as the mind can imagine, but you can't see the damn thing. Also, the ending in the book is way different than the movie's ending, as it follows more of a "Lord of the Flies" pattern. But it was still a good read, and it was really cool to be able to relate and know all of the places they travelled through on their way to get to the beach. In both the book and movie, they took off from Ko Samui for a protected Marine Park made up of a bunch of uninhabited, protected islands. I really wanted to do the same, but it's much easier to accomplish in the land of make believe.

Kevin left for Cambodia yesterday, so the Ko Phangan crew is officially dismantled. But it's alright, as travelling friends come and go.

I can't believe I'm at my 8 week mark already. The time has not gone by fast at all, but looking back on it it seems like I just landed in Bangkok and it was snowing when I left NY in January. I've really enjoyed keeping this blog. At first, I thought it was just a great way to avoid repeating the same stories and activities to everyone and anyone who wanted to know. It was a good way to keep loved ones in the loop. It still is, but now it's taken somewhat of a different turn, as it's enabled me to keep developing my craft as a writer. It's really all I got, as I don't have a stage to tell jokes and I don't have any script writing programs. So keep reading, and I'll keep writing.

You learn to appreciate cover bands while you're over here, mainly because of this...

La Pura Vida

I was riding in the back of a pick up truck, my shirt was off, the sun was gleaming off my back. Matt rented a truck for the week, which made moving around alot easier on this not so small island. We just got done visiting a waterfall and were on our way to check out a new beach, when this thought popped into my head:

This is the life that I get to live right now: I go to an island and find the best beach I possibly can. I stay until I'm bored, and when I've had my fill I pack my bags, bring along my new friends, and find a new paradiso. Then I get to repeat the process all over again. The fact that I sleep on the beach for practically pennies sure helps the situation. Could I have drawn this up any better for myself?

Now, beach bumming isn't for everyone, I understand that. But you can call me a homeless crackhead if you please, because I am more than happy being a bum on a beach. The temples were great up north, I've had more than a solid dose of culture. But after four or five temples they begin to look the same. But throw me through a plethora of beaches and I can find something distinct, unique, and uncommon about every single one of them. Not perfect for everyone, just perfect for me.

I saw my first Muay Thai fight last night. These dudes are serious athletes, let me tell you. I don't understand fully all the guidelines and techniques, but I know that it's mostly a kick-driven fight because kicks earn more points than a punch. I got to hang out with a Brazilian fighter afterwards because his girlfriend is one of the people we've been hanging with all week, and I really developed an admiration for the lifestyle. A few weeks ago, I extended my visa for another month so that I can set aside two to three weeks to train at a Muay Thai camp after I'm done touring the south. I really hope I have enough time because it's something I've been itching to do ever since I was up in Pai hanging with a group of fighters.

Ko Samui

Gaylord Focker ruined the surprise honey moon for Pam's sister and her husband. Operation Ko Samui... remember? "Oh, Jack talk Thai, Jack talk Thai well." The scene from Meet the Parents was the first thing I thought of when I heard about Ko Samui. Picking up right where we left off, we hopped on a ferry for Ko Samui, one of Thailand's more ritzy and glitzy and beautiful islands. The Ko Phangan crew, as stated before, is just about dismantled. Only Kevin and I remain, but travelling with us are some newbies. During our SCUBA adventures we met a cool dude from the northern U.K. named Matt, with the hardest English accent I've ever heard. Also, I met a Brazilian when I was in the north near Chiang Mai and we kept making plans to meet up down south, so we finally did here in Ko Samui. So although I came to Thailand by myself, rarely have I been alone.

We got to Chaweng Beach yesterday. It is the most expensive beach in Samui, and pretty much the most in all of Thailand. But I have been able to get by in expensive spots before, as all you do is cruise town and find a little nook with a cheap guest house and a cranny for cheap eats. But this was not the case in Chaweng. Forget about budget or even midrange, this place was wall to wall upper class, and with all of the Americana to prove it. An Ed Hardy store in Thailand, are you shitting me?! Our wallets wouldn't have been able to survive more than one day, eventhough we would have loved to stay longer. The beach is miles long with sand as soft, white, and clean as baby powder, and the water is crystal clear. But it was honeymoon central, and that is not what we are after.

So we went to the next beach down to Lamai, the second nicest beach on the island, but far more backpacker friendly. We found a bungalow in a nice corner of the beach, and with a roomie to help split the costs, I'm paying $2 for a bungalow just steps from the water. $2!? For the sake of my germaphobic family members, I'm not going to go into the details of the conditions of this room. There's a bed, four walls, and a roof... sort of, let's leave it at that. I swing my door open, hop down three rickety steps, walk for ten seconds, and I'm in the water. $2!? There's a catch, no? An expensive key deposit, a ridiculously early check out time... there's got to be something, right? Julie, an Aussie and owner of White Sands is as down with the backpackers as one can be. She doesn't require a key deposit nor does she even have a check out time. It's a nice breath of fresh air compared to all of the money grubbing, stone cold Thai women bungalow operators that know you're a foreigner with a fat wallet and try to weasel away as much out of you as possible. The beach here is just as long, the water is just as clear. What makes Lamai second to Chaweng is the quality of the sand, but that's really it. For $2 a night on a freakin' beach, I'll take it.

Please enjoy another loveable, trashy moment from the Full Moon Party.