My dad once said to me, 'wee fellah, you always have your head in the clouds'! You see, it was me da's fault! Every month a mustard yellow envelope would arrive by post and, I was usually the first, to rip it open only to marvel at the amazing pictures, in The National Geographic, from all across the globe. (The seed had been sown). Note, I only looked at the pictures and made no effort to read the informative features other than the text attached to the picture. Hence, it's taken me two months, into my trip, to start writing about my experiences, even though I have been loading the pictures unto here, from the start.

And, so it was, with a sense of wunderlust, (which I have never lost, around travel), I found myself at London Gatwick, about to leave for SE Asia for a years travelling. I had travelled to parts of SE Asia before as I love the climate, scuba diving, food and people oh, and it's cheap.

I landed in Bangkok at quite a poignant time. The country was in deep mourning for it's late King and, the intensity of that mourning was building by the day, as the date of his lavish cremation, crept closer. He had only died a year previously so this was one heck of a wake! In N Ireland we are done and dusted in two days (with a wee bit of drink thrown in, if you are at the right one) but here, this was going to be something, on another scale. Tall buildings had huge pictures of The King draped down their sides, The Metro system played tributes on their sales TV screens and the major Thai web sites, such as Thai Airways and the mobile companies, were in black and white. Lots of people were wearing black. The streets, around the Palace, were being scrubbed to an inch of their life. However, bright yellow Magnolia's were planted and displayed everywhere, somewhat tempering the mood. A few days later The King was cremated in a two day ceremony costing some £70m.

As you can imagine, Bangkok, is a big city-I don't like big, busy cities! However, I got my first smells of the evening street BBQ's being fired up and the familiar smells of Galangal, lemongrass, kaffir lime leaves and fish sauce, punctuating the night air. I also had my first (dis) taste of that familiar screech of 'masssaaage'! I was glad to leave four days later for Siem Reep, in Cambodia.

Siem Reep is the stopping point for Angkor Watt, the biggest religious monument in the world, covering some 402 acres. Originally, constructed in the 12th century, as a Hindu Temple, it transformed into a Buddhist temple. Hindu and Buddist scripts and cravings adorn this vast place. Clearly a tourist hotspot, the site was covered in tourists taking selfies rather than the spectacle before them! I found some solace in a more remote area where a local Cambodia guy said hello. I was immediately on my guard! 'What was he after', I thought? And, I wasn't going to be fooled by a request for me, to have my picture taken with his uncle, a Buddhist monk! Apparently, he had never seen a white man before! Off course I obliged, with no threat to my wallet.

Siem Reep is a messy old town, not least as it has a street called 'Pub Street'. At every turn, you are being offered a TukTuk which, if you declined, would become an offer of 'ladies', followed by 'drugs' etc. These offers would become a theme throughout my trip over the next few months and, I got wiser on how I would refuse them. For now, upon the offer of 'TukTuk', I would point and say 'Leg leg' ie. I am walking. Most of them got it.

I headed north, some days later to Laos. On a curious note, as my flight taxied away from The Siem Reep terminal, the staff came out to wave a polite good bye. I couldn't help but think if this was one of Ryanair's UK Airports, Michael O'Leary would be standing there with his hand firmly faced in the opposite direction and his middle finger firmly pointed upwards!

Vientiane, is the capital of Laos. Vientiane, is a mixture of French Colonial architecture and Buddhist Temples complete, with the obligatory night market. Night Markets are very common all over SE Asia selling a vast array of mass produced Chinese fake tat, anything from trainers and sports wear. The night markets nearly always had a street-food section, where I could get fantastic, tasty and cheap food such as Chicken Satay and many, many noodle dishes. There were, off course, some things, I just couldn't eat such as the bugs and tarantulas on a stick! One evening, I was quite surprised to come across an Oktoberfest Festival in a square. All quite surreal with people dressed in Lederhosen etc.and, in the heat.

My next journey north was by bus to Vang Vieng. Although somewhat cramped and, with a jolly Peruvian guy as a neighbour, the journey was more interesting than flying. The Laos countryside whizzed past giving me a view of life along the road. From lavish Buddhist open air ceremonies to people eeking out an existence, scene after scene, unfurled before me. Off course it was all too fast to take a picture but, none the less, interesting to observe. I arrived into Vang Vieng, some four hours later. Nestled under the dramatic limestone Kharts (huge rock formations) Vang Vieng is pretty much a back packer town with a history of excessive partying, which lead to the deaths, of young backpackers, in the past. The local authorities put an end to this partying some eight years ago by stopping the open sale of drugs in bars and all night parties. Yes, the young are still there and, filling the bars but, some normality has returned. My excessive partying lead me to have a second pint in the local Paddy's Irish Bar where, later on, we were entertained by the fine singing and guitar playing of the owner-funny enough, not called Paddy- a Strabane (N Irish) man. The next day I enjoyed a two hour kayak trip down the river which was fun. During the kayak trip, I was questioned by a Thai man and his wife were my wife was! He was curious how I could be on my own and, equally travelling on my own and even said, he found it strange. This would be a recurring theme on my trip and even today, some two months later, I was asked the same question, with the same reaction. Asians are very family orientated so, I guess, to them, I am weird. Here's to weirdos!

I left Vang Vieng on a mini bus with five Chinese people on what was going to be quite an eventful journey to Luang Prabang. Our route would take us over a mountain pass. As we neared the top, the weather had already turned into wet fog and the road surface changed from tarmac to mud and shingle. Some trucks had already stopped short of the top with the defeated drivers standing by the roadside. Our driver made a run at it but started skidding near the top and, was unable to continue. With a sheer drop, into the foggy gloom to our left, the driver gingerly reversed back down to have another go. After three more failed attempts, a new approach was employed! He got all of us to move back and sit on the seats above the rear axle. With pedal to metal, his (awful) thrash metal music cranked up and five Chinese people and one mad N Irish man, bouncing up and down above the axle, we made it. Although we may not have spoken the same language, we all managed to have the same look of terror followed by exhilaration. It was such a relief to come back out of the fog and descend into Luang Prabang.

Luang Prabang is more coffee and croissants than beer and chips! Luang Prabang is an and ancient, but stylish town and, was designated a UNESCO World Heritage Site in 1995. It sits on the confluence of Nam Kan and Mekong rivers. With a mixture of coffee shops, French bakeries, Buddhist temples and, oh, a night market. The architecture is a mixture of traditional Loas wooden built houses and European colonial style houses. The streets were busy with tourists, anything from backpackers to stylish French people sipping their coffee in only the way that stylish French people can do that, to Buddhist monks cutting a dash in their brightly coloured saffron robes and umbrellas to match. As I walked towards a parked TukTuk with a Monk, sitting in it, I noticed that he was having a cheeky fag and, more to my shock, chucked the but on the pavement. I didn't know if it would be disrespectful to tut at a monk so I passed by with a silent harumph! Apparently they can smoke cigarettes but not take anything mind altering, such as alcohol or drugs. I did a lovely day trip to Kuang Si waterfalls which speak for themselves in the photographs.

Luang Prabang was to be my departure point for a two day slow-boat up The Mekong river to Hua Xai on The Thai Border. Some fourteen people strong, we were made up of a mix of French, German and Australian on board a long open sided boat. Kicking back and relaxing was the order of the day with nothing more to do than marvel at the amazing landscape, either side of the boat. Again, the striking Limestone Kharsts were to dominate the landscape along The Mekong. Water Buffalo had wandered down to the water's edge to wallow and, the occasional mahout would appear, to bathe his elephants. We made two stops, the first being at Pak ou Caves which is a Buddhist Shrine. The cave was full with over forty thousand statues of Buddha, from the large and elaborate to tiny statues. As I left the cave, a very young girl tried to sell my a caged bird which I politely declined only to be offered a live cockroach in a match box! Nice! Our second stop was at a local village where we got to meet the people, who lived a primitive lifestyle there, a long with their pigs and hens. Young girls carried their babies around-we found out that the girls start giving birth at fourteen years old. Although very shy, they were chuckling amongst themselves. We found out that they considered us to be 'beautiful people'. Flattery can come from the strangest of places! Bolstered with this new sense of beauty, we set sail for our night stop at Pakbeng. The next day's sail was just as relaxing with the landscape flattening out somewhat but, equally beautiful. Sadly, the flow of The Mighty Mekong was blighted by enormous amounts of plastic floating down its braadth. A recent survey has shown that The Mekong, along with some other major Asian countries, are the biggest culprits for plastic ending up in The Ocean! Late afternoon, we arrived into Hua Xai to be transferred across the border to Chaing Kong for an over night stop before my bus journey to Chaing Rai. My trip up through Laos was somewhat of a whistle stop tour of Laos, following, pretty much the tourist trail. I know there was so much more to see but for now I got a flavour of the country with it's relatively shy people; a country which had seen the ravishes of war, back in the late sixties and early seventies.

The old tin bus, which I got to Chaing Rai, was fully equipped with air conditioning ie. open windows and ceiling fans. As the weather wasn't unbearably hot, this proved to be a lovely option, for the two hour journey south passing by lush forests and paddy fields. I stopped off in Chiang Rai for a few days with 'The White Palace' being the main attraction for me. I hired a scooter and rode the fourteen kilometres out of town, to view this magnificent but, quite weird place. Unlike any other temple, which I had visited at this stage, Wat Rong Khun, seen from a distance, appears to be made of glittering porcelain; a closer look reveals that the appearance is due to a combination of whitewash and clear-mirrored chips. The White Temple had been very much run down and then, became the project of a local (rich) artist in 1997. To enter the temple, you must walk over a bridge and pool of reaching arms (symbolising desire), where inside, instead of the traditional Buddha life depictions, the artist has painted contemporary scenes representing samsara (the realm of rebirth and delusion). Images such as a plane smashing into the Twin Towers and, oddly enough, Keanu Reeves as Neo from The Matrix (not to mention Elvis, Hello Kitty and Superman, among others), dominate the one finished wall of this work in progress.

On the way back from the temple I stopped off at a shopping Mall to sign up for my first travelling SIM card. I was greeted in the mobile phone store by a very enthusiastic shop assistant with a fetching, if not, over the top, colour of lip stick. They quickly explained that I would need to show my passport to get the SIM card. As I didn't have my passport with me, I thanked him kindly and was on my way to sort out later.

The next day, I boarded a 'VIP' bus, and headed further south to Chaing Mai, a city, which has built up around an old gated town. Chiang Mai is a bustling, Thai city with heavy traffic and, consequent pollution, hanging heavy in the air. I added to the polution by hiring a little scooter, only to be pulled over an hour later by the Police who slapped me with a 500bhat (£10) fine/'whiskey fund' for not having an International driving Licence. As I didn't have the money on me, I was given a producer and told to pay at the Police station. There, they only asked for 200bhat! I had timed my trip to Chiang Mai to coincide with The Loy Krathong Festival and, The Yee Peng Festival. Both festivals are a celebration of light. Loi Krathong involves floating colourful, flower filled baskets, with a candle in the middle, down the river while Yes Peng is a massive lantern festival. Clearly, these festivals are not the most environmentally friendly so, it left me with a question mark!

I had joined my friend Jake (from Hastings) and his friends, for this colourful but very busy evening.

As the crowds built I decided to split and, find less busy streets. I happened upon the peaceful courtyard of a Temple where some monks were chanting inside. As I rounded the courtyard, I happened upon an older monk, sitting in his own, engrossed in his mobile. He beckoned me over to sit with him. Again, I was on my guard-my mother had warned me about these type! With limited English, I managed to grasp that he was saying the planet was in a bad place and we needed peace. 'No argument there, big man'. We muddled our way through, for the next five minutes with various exchanges and, I was on my way. The next day, I joined Jake and his friends for a ride up to Wat Phrathat Doi Suthep. This beautiful temple sits resplendently above Chiang Mai and, is reached via a 306-step staircase flanked by naga (serpents); the climb is intended to help devotees accrue Buddhist merit.

As you can see from the picture, the temple is adorned in gleaming gold. That evening, we headed into The Old Town for the (carnival) procession. A huge amount of effort had been put into, both their floats and costumes. The guys wore just as much make up make up as the girls.

As well, as all the festivities, I managed to find a local (remote) swimming pool for training which was a welcome diversion and a great way to burn off the excess. Curiously, it was called 'The Centre of The Universe'. Some days later, one of my oldest (London) friends arrived to share the trip south. JP (Jean-Paul) and I, hired a car for a week with Kanchanaburi, our destination. I soon settled into the driving with the wonders of Sat Nav being our guide.

Some 680km south of Chiang Mai, we reached Kanchanaburi a place my friend JP had visited before and was suitably enthused to return with me. We drove out from our accommodation to 'The Bridge on The River Kwai' which was immortalised in David Lean's 1957 movie. The iron bridge actually spans The Mae Klong River and, thankfully, wasn't too busy with tourists.

The bridge was one of six hundred, built along The Burma Railway, also known as The Death Railway. The Japanese embarked on this mammoth project during the second world war to create a 258 mile supply route from Burma to Thailand. We would later read the deeply moving and harrowing story of it's construction when we arrived at The Hellfire Pass Museum. Poignantly and completely unplanned, our visit to this museum fell on Remembrance Day. We walked around the museum, reading the harrowing stories; stories of harsh conditions and, heavy loss of life, suffered by The Allied POW's, as they laboured with primitive tools, with little food and hot conditions. Hellfire Pass is so called because of the sight of emaciated prisoners labouring at night, by torchlight creating a 'hell like' scene. With already heavy hearts we made our way down the slope, from the museum, to the pass. The enormity of their labours soon became apparent as we walked through the cutting. One could only try and imagine what it was like to cut through this rock while being whipped and beaten by The Japanese.

Many died in the most appalling conditions. Towards the end of the pass, we stopped to look at the freshly laid poppy wreaths.

On a wet and dark evening, we drove back to our accommodation, deep in thought. From Kanchanaburi, we drove south again to JP's brother and sister in law's house in Hua Hin where we spent a lovely few days relaxing by their pool and, being cooked for, by Luna. Sadly our time together was up, as drove into the nightmarish Bangkok traffic. JP and I said our goodbyes at Bangkok International Airport, the next day, as he left for London and, I flew to Phuket for a week's diving on The Andaman Sea and Similan Islands.

Along with Adam, my London swim club mate from some thirty years previous and, my Dive Instructor in 2010 (for my Dive Master course), and his guests, we set sail for a fantastic week's diving on Giamani.

The water temperature was a very agreeable 28 Degrees and the dive conditions were excellent. On all dive sites we had a myriad of fish and corals with schooling Jacks and Barracuda to hunting Trevellies and, an abundance of lovely coral. Richelieu Rock was probably the highlight for me with so much to see.

We even had an inquisitive turtle come to visit us after breakfast one morning at the dive deck giving snorkelers a great opportunity to jump in say hello. The dive guides and crew on board, looked after all our needs, especially food! There's nothing beats coming up from a pre-breakfast dive to a big breakfast of fresh fruit, bacon and eggs!

From the sublime to the ridiculous! After a week's diving we stayed in Patong for a few nights. Patong has one particular party street which we ventured upon, after dinner. Being part of our route back to our hotel, we just needed to get from one end to the other. No worries, you might think! Bear in mind that we had been to sea for a week with just the ocean and peace and quiet. The bombardment commenced! At every step a laminated sign would be thrust in our faces with a vast array of 'activities', we could indulge in. I was somewhat disappointed when I was offered ping pong, only to find out it wasn't exactly the type of ping-pong, which I used to be very good at. The offers kept coming but, we did manage to make it to the other end of the street, unscathed. It was then, that I came up with a business idea! How's about designing T-Shirts with check boxes on them: NO-Massage, NO-Happy Ending, NO-Ping Pong, NO-Drugs, YES-A nice cup of tea! I am still working on it but, doubt if it will make me my fortune.

I was more than happy to leave Patong a few days later for Hanoi in Vietnam where I became an instant millionaire with my first ATM withdrawal of Vietnamese Dong (one of those currencies with many noughts). Hanoi was somewhat cooler than the temperatures I had been enjoying over the first two months of my trip, so much so, that I had to buy a top. As well as the change in temperature I was immediately struck by the incessant honking of hours in Hanoi and, the volume of traffic. Crossing the street became a major challenge of nerve and will, something I will come back to later. As I took one of my first walks around Hanoi I was struck by lots of people, especially men, sitting on tiny stools drinking green tea, eating sunflower seeds ( with the shells discarded everywhere) and smoking, some from Bamboo bongs. By these men, would be an ancillary industry of shoe shiners.

I booked a day trip to Halong Bay, some four hours drive from Hanoi. We boarded our boat and were served a delicious lunch before setting sail. Just like The Mekong Cruise, this proved to be a relaxing sail amongst the iconic limestone Kharsts on a rather dull day.

At our first stop, I got do some kayaking while the rest of the group choose to be punted around on boats.

After an afternoon on the boat we were back in our mini-bus and back to the hustle and bustle of Hanoi. I ticked off a few tourist boxes by visiting The Ho Chi Minh Mausoleum where the much revered Ho Chi Minh, had been laid to rest. I am not sure he is getting the rest he needs as, he is taken off once a year for a spruce up! This quite austere building is guarded by two guards. Close by is The Presidential Palace with a very much French style to it, being built in early 1900 for French Governor-General of Indochina. Away from the major tourist spots is Hanoi's very busy Old Quarter with a mixture of locals, back packers and tourists. The narrow streets are jammed with the preverbal scooters and pedestrians all vying for the limited space. As well as market areas, many traders sold their wares along the street. Pots and pans would be washed in the street as well as butchery being conducted on the pavement.

At night, the pollution which clawed at your throat, during the day, could be seen quite evidently in the evening air, forming a bluish haze. And so, to crossing the road: Let me help you cross! Take a deep breath and, if you are of the religious kind PRAY. Ok, le's go! From the pavement, we carefully check for the slightest break in traffic, of which, there are few, to none. Having stepped out unto the road we find ourselves quickly jumping back unto the pavement as we forgot about the scooter riders who ride the wrong way down the street! Having cleared this first peril, we are on our way, with a multitude of traffic bearing down on us. At this point it is all about nerves of steel and carrying on, confidently across, as the traffic weaves around us. Having reached the other side, we are almost about to take a sigh of relief as we step unto the pavement when (you've guessed it), another idiot, riding up the wrong side of the street almost takes us out. Phewwwww, that was close! Stepping unto the pavement it is time to crack open the champagne, strike up the band and thank every god in the universe when, suddenly, you are reminded about the idiots who ride on the pavement! Yes, it can be that adventurous and heart stopping! On my last evening, I stared in amazement at The Police (YES, The Police) reversed through a red light only to take out a lady on a scooter (she was riding with no lights, by the way). Hanoi is packed with history and character but, not somewhere I would rush back to.

I boarded a train at 6.30 the next morning, to take an eleven hour journey south to Dong Hoi. We were accompanied by a loud TV playing Vietnamese pop bands singing carols. I took me a wee bit of courage (two cups of tea) to pull 'the grumpy old man card' and ask them to turn the volume down. Like myself, most people wanted to get some more sleep at that time of day so I was a momentary hero, in carriage 12. When I arrived in Dong Hoi, it had started to rain, rain that would continue for some days.

West of Dong Hoi is  Phong Nha-Ke Bang National Park home of the most amazing cave system discovered by a British Caving team in 1987. Phong Nha-Ke Bang National Park contains the oldest karst mountains in Asia, formed approximately 400 million years ago. Riddled with hundreds of cave systems – many of extraordinary scale and length – and spectacular underground rivers. As the rain lashed down outside, I was glad I had chosen a cave day. We first entered Paradise Cave which is, reportedly 31 miles long (think about that) but, we could only do the first mile on a board walk. Even this mile gave us an idea of the cave's enormity. Amazing Stalactites and stalagmite formations were fantastically lit. We then moved unto The Phong Na Caves and viewed it from a dragon boat. Again, it was beautiful. Having got back to my hotel in atrocious weather, I contemplated my next week in Vietnam. I realised that it was going to be a washout and decided to head to Phú Quoc for some beach time. It's early days for Phú Quoc's tourism but I had a satisfying time on long sandy beaches doing my sea swims and relaxing. From Phú Quoc I headed to Ho Chi Minh City (formerly Saigon) for a few days. HCMC is a now quite a modern city with big shiny buildings and a young populace who have embraced western culture. The bars and restaurants were full of locals and tourists. And, off course, the incessant and unnecessary honking of horns, something I was becoming obsessed with, was ever present. I would look to see what they were honking at, only to see that it was because they could! My obsession went one step further in that, I went online to see if I was the only one being driven nuts by this! Someone had only gone and written an essay on it! Boom, I wasn't the only one!

I booked myself unto a tour of The Mekong Delta. Along with a Swedish mother and son, as well as an Indian family, we were driven out to the delta in a mini-bus and stopped at an impressive Temple-yes, another temple! At the very least, although there are many temples in SE Asia, they are superlative buildings with a much more welcoming appeal than our austere, grey churches etc at home. Soon after, we were transferred from the mini-bus to a small boat which sailed us around a small part of the delta and stopped off at a honey production farm, a sweet factory (including the chance to sample Snake Wine-I declined!) and finally for a tasty lunch (no snakes involved) before heading back to Ho Chi Minh City.

The next day, I boarded a hydrofoil for a two hour journey to Vung Tau to join Tony and Luna in their smart AirBNB. Vung Tau is a nondescript sea side resort but, enough to relax in.

My two week whirlwind journey through Vietnam was over. I only got to touch the surface of this country and it's turbulent history. At least I got to taste the famous Bun Cha dish and their tasty Pho soup, avoid being killed crossing the road and visited the most amazing caves imaginable. I didn't find the people particularly friendly but, that may be partly, the language barrier.

Back in Cambodia, I stayed in the capital Phnom Phen for a few nights and relished in the lack of horns, being sounded although, replaced by many offers of TukTuk, ladies, drugs etc! Located on the banks of the Tonlé Sap and Mekong River, Phnom Phen used to be know as 'The Pearl of Asia'. I visited The Royal Palace but His Maj Norodom Sihamoni, wasn't in-most inconsiderate! Near to The Palace I had lunch at a fantastic restaurant called 'Friends'. This restaurant was set up to help get street kids off the streets and into a vocation. Whether cooking, waiting or managing, 'Friends' had successfully helped these young people. I was interested to read some literature in the restaurant about NOT giving money to begging street kids as this money would invariably end up in someone else's pocket. Although not a child, I found myself giving an old, disabled lady some spare change later only to see someone come along to take it of her! Later that evening, whilst looking for somewhere to eat (yes, there is a lot of eating on this trip) and, trying to avoid the 'dodgy' streets I rounded a corner only to spot a couple from St Leonards on Sea. With incredulous looks we all realised, 'yes, it is you'! I spent a lovely, two hours with Jenny and Mike, catching up on everything from home as well as sharing our trip stories. We were constantly approached by street kids for money. It was so hard not to hand them a little bit of change!

Other little things I noted in Phnom Phen were that women like to wear socks in their flip flops, women work along side men on building sites (same in other SE Asian countries), some strong smells come up from the drains and a 'Happy Herb Pizza' is exactly what you think it is!

From Phnom Phen I took a four hour, mad mini-bus ride to Otres Beach just along form Sinanhoukville, on the south coast. Otres Beach is a dusty, dirt track town with the air filled with smell of 'The Happy Herb' and, with one dread-locked, back packer too many! Otres town is being heavily developed as, it's tourist potential has been spotted. Building sites abound! However, the long sandy beach was a nice escape from all this chaotic development. On a positive note, I came across a doctor's surgery in town where they spoke good English. The annoying, hacky cough I had had for some weeks now, was diagnosed as Bronchitis. I don't think I have had an 'itis' before! Armed with five days worth of Antibiotics, I was soon feeling better. After a few days, I jumped on the ferry to Koh Rong and stayed on Long Set beach for a few days. Long Set Beach was a bare foot paradise with my hut directly on the beach. As well as lots of swimming, on one of the cleaner beaches, I managed to seek and destroy a Sunday Roast at a nearby resort! Well, I had to award myself for all the swimming! It was time to leave Cambodia for Koh Samui (Thailand) for Christmas and The New Year. As much as I love flying twin turbo prop planes always make my pulse race faster. Below is the plane for my thirty five minute flight to Phnom Phen. I have no idea what make it was but, we made it. And so, I found myself back on Koh Samui, where I did my Dive Master course in 2010 with Adam. I had the great privilege of staying with him and, his partner Win, at their gorgeous home. Samui is still very much a party island but, still has it charm. Whilst there, I joined up with to a gym, did lots more swimming, rode around on a scooter, ate fantastic Thai food and, celebrated Christmas day with five others at a beach restaurant. I went over to Koh Tao for a couple of days but it rained non-stop, with the roads becoming rivers- there was only so much of wet flip flops I could take (I can hear your sympathy from here!) On New Year's Eve, I helped out with doing a BBQ at Adam and Win's. We all then went to the beach, to see the fireworks at mid night! With almost three months behind me, it has taken me this long to get this blog together. If you have read this far, well done. It has been a fantastic three months where, quite simply, the web has been my main source of guidance; anything from Agoda.com, Booking.com, Google, Google translate, Trip-Advisor etc. How did we ever survive before! I have had to get my head around hotel descriptions with phrases such as Deluxe, Super-Deluxe, Superior, Supreme etc. I could make my own mind up if the description fitted the room, when I arrived at the hotel! Food has been cheap and, off course, quite simply amazing (being Asian). My headphones have come in very useful, not least for drowning out overly loud people especially at airports and on planes! Again, I have come up with an idea in that, just as there are 'prayer rooms' at airports, there should be 'Shouting rooms' where people can compete to see who thinks who is the most important!

On a personal note, I am, understandably very relaxed and enjoying the experience. I notice that I haven't been chomping at my cuticles (which I did a lot, at home-work anxiety, I guess) and, my old knackered knees are not panging and twanging as much (the painting and decorating was taking it's toll). I have now settled into a nice balance of travelling, gymning and swimming, and meeting new and old friends. I have resisted buying and wearing the infamous elephant print, baggy trousers, haven't grown dreadlocks, haven't joined a cult, haven't had food poisoning and, have only been ripped off once, by a taxi driver. I still consider myself very fortunate to be in a position do this trip. Long may it last! I look forward to blogging my further adventures as I head south, for my remaining time in Thailand and then, unto Malaysia.

In early January, I flew west from Ko Samui to Krabi and shared the flight with three lovely Dublin girls so the craic was mighty. Krabi proved to be a bit of a dirty, and smelly town, with little to offer me. I was pleased to spend a day out of Krabi on a kayaking trip and, then one other day in the resort of An Nong, just down the coast.

From Krabi, I grabbed a ferry to Koh Lanta, an island I had been to before. Lanta seemed somewhat down on it’s luck from the last time I had been there; the roads were in major disrepair which is never helped by the mad Thai approach to driving! This was to be a four day beach stop for me but even though the beach had some nice, cool bars, offering anything from great cocktails to ‘Mushroom painting’ parties (never saw the end result of that) to ‘Stoned’ parties, I stuck to my couple of beers. As much as I love being barefoot on the beach I very quickly started using my flip flops as there was way too much broken glass on the beach. Coupled with discarded plastic everywhere, I found all this wholly depressing. Paradise for some, especially the hippie types, was getting drunk and stoned on the beach with little or no effort to clear up their mess! And, on one last moan, upon arriving in Lanta, I was hit with an ‘environmental tax’ for keeping the island clean etc. I saw absolutely no sign of this ‘tax’ being used. 

All in all, I had a great time in Thailand but, for now it was loosing it’s gloss and, I was looking forward to moving on to Malaysia. 

A three hour ferry ride south took me to The Malaysian Island of Langkawi (The Jewel of Kedah).  As the ferry approached Langkawi, I could see that it was densely covered in forest with fringing beaches. My taxi ride from the ferry port to my hotel, introduced me to a much safer style of driving than The Thais and a much better standard of road so much so that I hired a scooter for my stay. Langkawi is not a huge island so I was able to bomb around on my scooter to the main sites. I swung by Eagle Square in the capital Kuah where there is an impressive sculpture of an Eagle. Throughout my stay, I could often see Eagles soaring on the thermals above the forest. By scooter, I was able to find remote beaches which weren’t plagued by dangerous jet-ski riders. By chance, as I walked along a beach I heard some rustling in the trees only to find some Dusky Leaf Monkeys which were super cute with the white rings around their eyes.

Another first was my first Nasi Goreng lunch which was very tasty and cheap, two things that I am very fond of. 

One of Langkawi’s major attractions is a cable car ride up to 750m, being the island’s second highest peak. There is a further adventure at the top in the form of a sky bridge, suspended over a deep valley, with lots of monkeys in the forest below. The views, across the island and beyond, were amazing. 

My stay on Langkawi was very pleasant with sensible driving, proper pavements, litter bins, 3-pin electrical sockets (A British influence), some very impressive tropical downpours, mid 20 degree temperatures, lovely food and people. Langkawi is also famous for duty free stores with incredibly cheap booze. I resisted the temptation of Gin at £8 and wine at £4. 

A twenty minute hop on Air Asia took me south to ‘The Pearl of The Orient’, Penang. From my taxi, I was immediately struck by the number of smart high rise apartment buildings. Penang is made up of a large middle class population. As well as the tourist industry, there are many medical and dental clinics in George Town, Penang. I took advantage of one of these clinics by visiting an ENT specialist to see if he could get to the bottom of my persistent wheeze and hacking cough. His diagnosis was an extreme allergic reaction to the (Asian) pollution and dust. I was furnished with some pills and nose drops which did the trick (for now).  

Penang is a hotchpotch of different cultures and consequent religions: Hindu, Chinese, Muslim and Christian. Mosques, Churches and Temples abound! I happened to be in Penang as they prepared for The Chinese New Year, The Year of The Dog. Red lanterns adorned many streets and buildings. The Hindu community were also celebrating a festival. The Thaipusam Festival lasted three days with parades through the streets. Oxen pulled the massive silver carriage off which, blessings were given out. Some people did the whole procession in bare feet with many in much pain, at the end. Other, braver young men, go into a trance and then have spikes put through the skin on their back or faces. I came across a group of men violently smashing coconuts on the street which was to vanquish evil spirits.

My walkabout found me on a marquee lined street where a jolly man asked if I had, had my lunch yet? In Thailand, this would be a greeting rather than an offer but, luckily, in this case, I was famished and, a very kind gentleman whisked me into his organisation’s tent to share food with a random group of Hindu’s. As ever, I was on my guard, wondering if I would be leaving the tent worshipping Krishna! As I sat, and chatted to some local guys, who were fascinated about where I was from and why I didn’t support Manchester United, a banana leaf was laid before me, with three different types of vegetarian curries being dolloped unto it along with rice. I knew I had to face a new challenge and eat this delicious food with my right hand. Although awkward, I managed to enjoy my generous and free lunch, with no conversion taking place. How naturally kind! 

I had to tick off two more tourist boxes by riding a Funicular up to Penang Hill and taking in the hazy views of George Town below, after which, I went to the impressive Kuil Temple where the heat had really go to me! I was glad to walk back down the hill and, for the skies to open with heavy rain. I sheltered by my bus stop and was joined by a jolly Buddhist monk. She soon was telling me about her exciting visit to London, in the 70’s and, visiting Soho (that would be an eye full back then) and Buckingham Palace. She now happily lives in the forests near Kuala Lumper with forest monkeys and other critters for company. Yet again, another random chat when two worlds meet! And, one last, interesting exchange took place on a bus whereby and Indian gentleman starting talking to me and suggested that I look like a famous movie star! As he struggled to remember who, I put him out of his misery and said ‘George Clooney’. Off course, he immediately saw the resemblance. 

George Town is full off character. As well as the modern hotels and high rises, there are many colonial style buildings interspersed with old classical wooden built Malay homes. It was fun to explore the streets and find the cool and imaginative graffiti.

No visit to George Town is complete without a visit to ‘The Blue House’-Cheong Fatt Tze. In brief, Cheong Fatt Tze was a big fat Chinese man who built an opulent house in a very showy off manner at the end of the nineteenth century. He went through eight wives with the eighth being his favourite apparently. If he had lived longer, I guess the ninth would have been his favourite! Anyways, he died and the house fell into disrepair with a major restoration project being started in the eighties. Traditional Chinese craftsmen were drafted in to sympathetically restore the house. The original blue ochre powdered paint was used throughout and ironwork shipped in from Glasgow. However all this delicate work almost came undone as the pile driving from the construction of a large hotel, nearby, opened up huge cracks everywhere. A successful but, long and protracted legal case was fought, against the construction company to have the work halted and, indeed, no further pile driving is allowed near here or any other heritage site. 

I spent the last few days, in Penang with my friend James who was visiting from home and a local guy called Rajir, who was able to take us to wonderful waterfalls and viewpoints, off the tourist trail. All too soon, it was time to pack again and move to a new country! 

From ‘The Pearl of Jedah’ I flew some three and half hours to ‘The Pearl of The Orient’. Manila, the capital of The Philippines, was one pearl that needed a serious polish! Manila is a seriously polluted city! My congestion soon returned! Thankfully, I was only there for two days but enough time to see many armed security guards, guarding anything from Hotels, Banks, ATMs and, even a bakery where I had a coffee and a croissant. I did wonder when the last great baguette robbery had taken place! Throughout my trip, when I had the misfortune of being a big city or town, I would seek comfort in big shopping malls with their cool comforting blanket of Air-con and cheap, tasty food courts. It was in one shopping mall, in Manila, where I was to have an interesting exchange with a gentleman who complimented me on my trainers-I do attract them! Upon asking me where I was from and, understandably not knowing where Hastings was, I told him that it was quite near to Brighton. He was excited to hear this, as his daughter was going to study nursing in Brighton and asked how much rents were. I gave him a guesstimate after which, he asked if I wanted to come back and meet his daughter. This time, I did smell a rat and politely said goodbye to him. 

From Manila, I took a five hour bus journey south to Batangas to then, switch to a new form of transport. A Jeepney is an elongated Jeep with two rows of facing seats which hold about twenty people, tops. I jumped on board with my diving bag etc. The Jeepney does not leave until it is full. Therein lies the problem! The Filipino version of 'full' and mine, or any sane person for that matter, is a very different thing! Just when you think the Jeepney must now be full, more people are squeezed in. That must be it! Nope! Another three have now been squeezed in, including a man with two cockerels in boxes. It was now a case of contort or abort!

I endured a forty five minute journey in this contorted position with toxic fumes from the horrendous traffic jams pouring into our Jeepney. I was pleased to extricate myself at Anilao which was to be my first Filipino diving destination. There was just me and a lovely Austrian lady, called Iris, at the resort. We buddied up for two days diving on the most fabulous reefs covered in both hard and soft corals with a profusion of many fish and weird creatures around. We dived of a wooden boat called a Banca with ‘stabilisers’ constructed of bamboo, on either side of the boat. All in all they were comfortable enough boats to dive off. 

Another transport first was a trip in a Trike Bike. Basically it’s a motorbike with a sidecar-box affair attached to it. Again, with a bit of contortion, I squeezed into the box with my bags to be taken to Batangas ferry terminal for my trip south to The Island of Mindoro.

Having popped off the ferry at Sabang on Northern Mindoro, it was a mere walk along the beach to my hotel. The beach front was a sad affair with a dirty beach and much litter including the dreaded plastic. There were loads dogs with Mange, many with only half their fur left. My heart sank! Thankfully, my hotel was very clean and comfortable. That evening, I had been told to pop into The Atlantis Resort on the beach as my UK friends at Oonasdivers act as an agent for them. I introduced myself to the exuberant bar man Ton Ton who quietly let me know that my beers were on the house for the evening. However, I didn’t take full advantage of this kind offer as we were diving the next morning. By chance, the English guy, sitting next to me at the bar, was to be my dive buddy for the next five days, as he was diving with the same dive shop as me. Bruce and I shared a few beers while we listened to Ton Ton’s eclectic taste in music but, with a heavy emphasis on 80’s music so, happy days all round. Again, the diving was fantastic with huge, healthy coral reefs covered with a myriad of sea life including massive Green Turtles. The ten dives I did, made up for the dirty and sleazy side of Sabang. On one hospitable note, Bruce and I walked through a residential area one evening where the locals live in basic shacks. They were celebrating a child’s birthday and insisted we join them for a drink (or three)! Tanduay is a local rum and offered in shots. It would have been rude to refuse so we joined in with the party and exchanged enough English to understand each other. I have to point out that the two year old wasn’t drinking the rum! 

My next destination was Sablayan on the west coast of Mindoro and required five different forms of transport over eight hours. I left Sabang in a Jeepney with room to spare this time and was dropped at Puerto Galera where I jumped into a Trike, to the port of Baltero. From there, a two hour boat journey, along the beautiful coast line, took me to Abra de Llog. From here, I bagged the front seat of a mini bus for a four journey to Sabyalan. From my front seat I was fascinated to see corn growers drying both their grain and the cobs, on the road which, we had to drive round.

Having arrived at the bus depot in Sablayan, I jumped in another trike to be deposited at a river side where I was punted across to Gustav’s Resort.

From one remote location to an even more remote location, myself and a Dutch guy boarded the resort’s boat for Apo Reef, some three hours between Mindoro and Palawan, for two days of amazing diving. In short, Apo is a huge reef system offering fantastic wall and reef diving. Notably, there were quite a few sleeping White Tip Sharks which were some of the biggest I have ever seen. Out of the six dives, we had sharks on every dive including big Hammerheads and Grey Reef Sharks. We also had one of the biggest Sea Snakes I had ever seen and, the dive guide agreed. Clearly I was very happy. Although the boat was basic, I loved sleeping on the upper deck, underneath an amazing constellation of stars. Again, on my big trip, something jumps out and grabs you, which puts everything into perspective; on board we had a young lad called Botbot, working his socks off as a boat hand and, as our cook! He told me that his mother and brother were dead and that his dad was in gaol. He had to give up his two years of IT training just to support himself

(someone else later, confirmed to me, that this was, sadly true). Time after time on this trip and throughout my life, I could only count my good fortune.

From the South East corner of Mindoro, I boarded a ferry for a six hour sail , west to Coron. Many of The Filipino ferries do not have seats but offer you a ‘cot’. A cot is a bunk bed on the open decks.

Thankfully, I managed to find a quiet area away from screaming kids and crowing cockerels (more about them later) and buried my head in my Iplayer downloads. I was taking a break from diving so Coron had little to offer me other than more pollution and bad smells. For such a small town, the main street is bumper to bumper with the ‘trikes’. I slowly starting noticing that each one was adorned with either the family name such as ‘Sanchez Family’ or ‘Manuel and Carla’ etc-basically like Darren and Sharon, with the dangly dice being replaced by The Virgin Mary (more about herself later). Other Trikes and Jeepney’s had a religions reference such as ‘God is Love’, ‘Jesus is Lord’, The Redeemed’ and many, many derivatives of scripture, printed somewhere on the vehicle. I did dive off one boat which had ‘Dive With God’ printed along the side. However, the one that jumped out at me was ‘Faith and Hope’ and, boy did I need it with their absurd and dangerous driving. The Philippines is a hugely religious country with many Catholic and Christian churches-50 Shades of Pray! This was something I was starting to struggle with especially with their lack of common sense mainly manifested in their approach to driving. Most drivers cross themselves before starting the journey which then seemed to absolve themselves off diving safely or throwing litter out of their windows. I had one driver who ran over a dog and, when I looked at him, he just grinned! As well as the ludicrous driving, the Filipinos keep bringing babies into a country which has much poverty and pollution. I had one taxi driver who had seven children!  

I travelled from Coron to El Nido on a comfortable three hour ferry. El Nido offered me a chilled out stop gap as I travelled down through The Island of Palawan. I got to see some lovely sunsets from my balcony.

I didn’t explore Palawan very much even though it is highly recommended by travellers and guides. I had hit a bit of a low and was missing home and my friends as well as the pollution and constant congestion on my lungs, really getting to me. I guess, I had lost my mojo (for now)! My last stop on Palawan was Puerto Princessa, a rather horrible and polluted town. I was happy to fly out of Puerto Princessa to another nightmare, of a place! 

Boracay, has always been billed as ‘Paradise’! As soon as I arrived, I knew it was far from paradise. I squeezed into a trike which took forty five minutes to go a couple of miles to my hotel. For such a small island, traffic jams are the norm, with most vehicles spewing out their toxic fumes. Boracay, has been unable to keep up with the massive tourist demand with thousands of (mostly Asian) tourist ramming the beach and streets. The footpaths, for what they are worth, had many man hole covers missing so you had to watch your step as well as stifle the putrid smell of sewage. Boracay was really summed up for me by a conversation I had with a US dude (bleached blonde and all that) who ran a wind surfing business on a beach, a beach covered in litter, especially plastic. Upon offering me kite surfing lessons, I politely declined. I then asked him if all the kite surfing shops (about 10) on this particular beach did any beach clean ups. He immediately was on his high horse by suggesting it was ‘too late’, too late for our generation and for the next generation. I suggested something was better than nothing and, as someone who made his money from the ocean (as with scuba diving operators) did he not take some pride in the beach? I had touched a nerve and he just kept repeating the same nonsense! Rather dejectedly, I walked away. I have learnt that Boracay is going to be closed down for some months to ‘clean it up’. 

From the horror of Boracay, I travelled via Cebu (horrible city) to my idea of paradise, Malapascua. As soon as the ferry boat/Banka, hit the sandy shore, and my feet felt the sand, I knew this was the place for me.

With no traffic other than scooters, Malapascua, can be circumnavigated in three hours by foot. I landed myself some really nice and cheap accommodation. It was a mere walk to my chosen dive centre where I met up with Bruce again. His friends run Devocean (clever eh!) where I chose to do all my dives with. Malapascua attracts lots of divers who come mainly to see The Thresher Sharks at Manado Shoal however, it requires a 4.30 rise for a five o’clock sail out to the dive site. It is rather odd to be walking through the local village, in the dark, with the cockerels crowing and, to see a scuba diver walk past! The dive site tends to get very busy with all the divers forming a line behind a rope at 30m. Both times I went, I only caught a glimpse of these very distinctive sharks with their long swishy tail and their cartoon like face. The amount of divers and bubbles were enough to spook the sharks! I had planned to stay at Malapascua for four days but stayed for twelve. I had the great fortune of meeting two Spanish men who run a local business called Blue Nomads which maps reefs and turns the map into a 3D image. They invited me and Bruce to join them for a hush-hush dive away from the masses and, it worked! We got our very own private view of three huge Thresher Sharks. Understandably, I was grateful. The World can be a small place sometimes! I got chatting to Hannah, a Dublin girl, on one of the dive boats to only find out that she had lived in Hastings for three years and knew a lot of the same people as me. Sadly, she was leaving before St Patricks day to get back to London as she had tickets to to see Ireland play England at Twickenham. Even though Malapascua is tiny, YES, it does have an Irish bar, off sorts. I had a pint of Murphy’s at The Craic House on St Patricks Day and met an Irish couple who had set up a live streaming of the match at another pub, that evening, as The Craic House wasn’t showing it. Needless to say a great night was had by all! It must be an Irish thing, but on one of the days that I chose to walk to the top of the island and find the quieter beaches I bumped into a girl from Market Hill (N Ireland) and chatted away with her before finding the beach. We were joined by a German guy and spent a couple of hours chatting on the beach while a group of children sat down behind us and, enthusiastically sang along, accompanied by a man, playing the guitar.

‘If you are happy and you know it, clap your hands’ was very popular! Indeed I was very happy to be on such a beach, having lovely conversation with two others and listening to the kids singing. Throughout The Philippines, I had noticed that the people love to sing. Indeed, as I checked into one hotel, the two receptionists broke into song! Novel, I thought, but then, I sometimes I had that effect on people. Although many Filipinos love to sing, it doesn't matter if they are good; in fact, in most cases, dire! As I walked through the village, on Malapascua, three different people (within range of each other) had fired up their karaoke machines at 8am and were shrieking loudly to the printed words.

This cacophony of sound had set loads of dogs off as well as the many, many cockerels, on the island. I choose somewhere else to have breakfast! despite this, Malapascua will remain as one of those little nuggets you find and, would happily come back to, at the drop of a hat.

From Malapscua, I got the bus back to Cebu and ensconced myself in a nice hotel with absolutely no intention of going out into the toxic fumes. The next morning I sailed west over to Southern Leyte, for more diving. As it was Easter I could only stay with one resort for four days as they were fully booked but managed to do some amazing dive on their doorstep and further out on Sogod Bay. Again the reefs were teaming with life and beautiful corals. As ever, with scuba diving, you get to meet to some fantastic people from all walks of life. You are certainly never stuck for company! I moved to the other side of The Southern Leyte peninsula, to a new resort which was very comfortable. Although it didn’t have a house reef like the previous place, we did some amazing diving, for four days. Notably, on Easter Sunday I was excited to be on may way to do my 900th dive. On the sail out to the reef we spotted dolphins and Pilot Whales. The captain steered the boat very gingerly towards their protruding fins. The dolphins were soon playing in the bow wave of the boat. I have seen this many times before but was particularly excited to see Melon Headed Dolphins amongst The Bottle Nose Dolphins. As well as The Pilot Whales, these were two new species for me to witness. We did two great dives at Napantau Reef and headed back past Limasawa Island where President Duterte was visiting, hence the patrol boats keeping a watchful eye on us. Limasawa Island is famed to be the first place in The Philippines where a Catholic Mass was celebrated. 

The next day, a US couple, in their late sixties, sailed into the bay, by our resort, on their Catamaran, which they had been sailing around the world since 2007. They proved to be great company with plenty a story to tell, over dinner, each evening. Their joie de vivre was simply amazing! 

I now type this from Donsol, just west of Leyte as I stay in Alona Beach on Panglao Island. And, by chance, I happened to be enjoying a sunset beer when this rather large English guy came up to me insisting he knew me from somewhere! I could only suggest that, perhaps, a Red Sea Live-Aboard! Bingo! Geordie John and his mate, had been on the same vessel as me, some twelve years ago! What are the chances! I met up with John the next day and did two dives off Balicasag Island which was amazing. Although we worked our way along the beautiful coral walls, a huge school of Indian Mackerel buzzed around in the blue beside us, with their distinctive mouth opening/feeding routine. On the second dive we had a massive school of Jacks hanging in the blue. Just wonderful! I will be joining John and his wife for a beer this evening. Whilst on Bohol, I grabbed a neat little scooter for the day and visited the famous Chocolate Hills. Formed of coral, from many, many years ago, they made an impressive sight and similar to Drumlins.

From these hills I rode to The The Philippine Tasier Sanctury to see these amazingly cute primates. They are incredibly small and, required a guide to point them out. Unfortunately, they are endangered by massive forestation.

Another journey, another crowded ferry! I sailed across from Bohol to Siquior. For most Filipinos, Siquijor is a mysterious other-world of witchcraft and the unknown. True, this tiny island province is famous for its mountain-dwelling mangkukulam (healers) who brew traditional ointments for modern ailments. The only brew I was interested in was a cold beer on the beach at sunset. I rented a scooter for three days and explored the Island. The interior has several impressive waterfalls where (mostly) the locals, hangout and played on swings over the plunge pools. On another day, I went on a magical mystery tour as I tried to ride to the summit of Mount Bandilaan. Much to the bemusement of the locals, I rode past their dwellings only to find I was on a track which ran out into fields. Even The Water Buffalo were giving me a rather odd look! I eventually found the top and relaxed as I admired the 360 views around the island. In the distance I could see Negros Oriental, my next destination. 

I sailed over to Dumagette from Siquior and jumped unto a crowded bus heading south to Cove Paradise. This lovely resort is run by Tobias and his partner Sophie. I had met Tobias many years ago, when he was the dive guide on a Red Sea Live-aboard, which I had organised. As my birthday was looming, I couldn’t help but choose somewhere more comfortable and with people I knew. It didn’t disappoint! Tobias took me out on quite a few dives, where he showed me many little critters I had never seen before as well as some juvenile White Tip Sharks and turtles. We even managed a 90 minute dive on my birthday. That afternoon, as I read my book and had a chilled glass of white, his lovely staff surprised me with a birthday cake and, a guitar lead rendition of happy birthday. After dinner, I carried on reading, under the stars and counted my blessings. 

North of Cove Paradise is Bongo Bongo (great name) Dive Resort where I carried on my dive adventures. The Bongo Bongo team were very professional with a great dive boat which took us across to Top Island, a very much favoured dive spot. 

My three month sojourn in The Philippines was almost at an end. I always thought that The Philippines was going to be my idea of paradise but was somewhat dismayed by the country. The diving was first class but I struggled with many aspects of the country not least the pollution being chucked out by The Jeepnies, Truc