中国云南广西十四天背包行2007 年8 月18日至31日

昆明，云南，大理，丽江，桂林，阳朔

在短短的两个星期， 我和好友洁霞到了云南的昆明，大理，丽江和广西的桂林和阳朔。我们吃喝玩乐， 游湖，骑马， 爬山，打水战 ， 途中也遇到了一些难忘的经历。我喜欢中国，喜欢中国几千年的浓厚历史，喜欢她多姿多采的少数民族和美食，也对她的厕所有着“特别” 的回忆。

中国厕所历险记
在云南，人们都把厕所称为歌舞厅，把上 “小号”称为唱歌，“大号”称为
跳舞。 还未到中国之前，常听说在中国上厕所要提伞，穿拖鞋因为厕所内有很多小蛆的可怕故事。我的亲生初体验也确定了这些“谣言”。每一次要去厕所，由其是在乡村地方，就让我非常的为却， 进去前， 要想好几个步骤，做好心里准备， 才能“奋勇” 的面对眼前的一切。厕所内没有门，只有几道矮墙隔开的地方让你自由地唱歌跳舞，有时也会无意看到旁人春光渣泄。

昆明

云南有十八怪，第 十七怪 - 过桥米线人人爱。这道美食是到云南不可 错过的佳肴。我们在一知半解的情况下，参加了昆明一日游。位于昆明市东南约一百二十六公里处的石林，被誉为“天下奇观”。在石林里，遍布着数百个黑色大森林一般的巨石群， 有的独立成景，有的纵横交错，连成一片，石形千姿百态。 虽然到了著名的石林， 但也被逼参观了几间精品店及首饰店。听当地人说，原来在中国当 导游是很辛苦的，有些甚至没有低薪，所以他们在途中会不停的推销该买的纪念品及首饰。

夜巴士盗窃经验
我们乘搭八个小时的夜巴士从昆明到大理。原本以为能好好的睡一觉， 没想到竟在凌晨两点时被吵闹声吵醒。睡在前面的两个妇女忽然发现钱包不见了，车上的 三个搭客也可疑的失踪了。我一查背包，发现已被划了一个大洞。本想这次完了， 钱包肯定被扒走了。这时， 警察正在巴士上找寻匪徒留下的痕迹，他从地上捡了 一个小包后， 问到，“这是谁的？”。 我仔细一看， 原来是我的化妆包，夜贼误以为那是我的钱包，从我的背包偷的。 幸好，钱包在被窝旁找到，让我捏了一把冷汗。

云南-大理 ━ 遇到的“家人”
在大理，一个宿舍的司机，陈先生竟成为我们在异乡的亲人。五十一岁的陈先生十分好客， 不但带我们到处游玩，还邀请我们到家里看他的爱犬， 吃晚餐。也许是因为我和他的女儿年龄相近， 所以他们对我十分照顾。 陈先生知道我喜欢西红柿炒蛋， 还特地叫太太做这道菜给我。 就这样， 我们在他的家里和陈太太， 像家人一样，一起聊天吃饭，度过一个很温馨的晚上。夫妻两人还为那一类的男生适合我， 而差一点吵起来。在大理短短的三天里能够在异乡感觉到家的温暖，跟陈家从相识到相知，也算是一种缘分。

云南-丽江
丽江古城位于中国西南部云南省的丽江纳西族自治县，始建于宋末元初（公元13世纪后期)。我很享受在丽江古城里漫步的感觉 - 穿梭在历史悠久的小巷，看着古城人民平常生活的方式与她多姿多彩的夜生活 。古城好象一个大迷宫，有走不完的小巷，看不完的小商品店和餐馆。 四方街是丽江古街的代表， 古城的建筑历经无数朝代的洗礼，饱经沧桑，融汇了各个民族的文化特色。

桂林
从昆明到桂林须乘坐十八小时的火车。桂林自古以来就有“山水甲天下”的美誉。桂林漓江是世界上水质最好的城市内河之一。从林桂乘坐渡轮游漓江到阳朔途中的山水景色很迷人， 像极了看这一副副巨型的山水画。其中一个山形，九马画山让我看左看右看，还是模不着头绪，连一匹马都看不出来。站在我身旁的一个老奶奶很轻易就把九匹马看出来，令我好惭愧。我们也划了竹筏， 在如诗如画的江上飘游。

到桂林，一定要尝一尝闻名中外的桂林米粉。桂林米粉圆细而柔韧，卤汤鲜美，肉菜香而爽口， 让人想了都垂涎三尺。第一次吃桂林米粉的经验十分滑稽。 我们捧着粉条， 看着桌上摆放着数种配料， 不知所措， 随意参半。大概是放了太多辣椒，我们在吃米粉时， 一面吃，一面喊辣， 还得跑到对街买矿泉水。 虽然吃得 嘴唇都快重了，但米粉实在太好吃了，让人无法自拔。

印象刘三姐山水剧场
印象刘三姐是著名导演张艺谋的精心杰作， 是世界最大的山水剧场。独特的露天演出以桂林美丽的山水为表演的背景。四百名表演者传统的舞蹈演出， 丽的灯光和音响效果， 配上水景的倒影，让整个演出十分壮观。虽然表演 和刘三姐没有很大的关联，也看不见情节，但还是让我们在视觉上大胞眼福， 是值得一 看的表演。

龙脊梯田
从桂林到龙胜的车程大约需两个小时。世界著名的龙脊梯田从元代就开始建造使用。层层梯田集壮丽与秀美为一体，显示出谣族人民的勤劳与智慧。 在高处看龙脊梯田，能感受这“梯田世界之冠” 的恢宏气势，美丽奇特的自然风光与浓郁纯朴的民俗民情。

“天下第一长发村”长发村
“天下第一长发村”住着六十户瑶族的人民。瑶女子把自己的长发视为第二生命的传统。这些瑶族的女性头发最长的有一点六米，是世界上头发最长的女子，最短的也有一点四米。她们的头发乌黑润滑，原来是用世代相传的洗头秘方：发了酵的淘米水洗头。仔细一看，原来发中有发， 她们头上盘这三把头发， 第一把 是十八岁成年仪式上剪的头发，第二扎则是平时拣攒来的掉发，第三把则是头上现有的头发。我们在村里，看了长发梳妆， 长发舞及结婚仪式。临走时，瑶族姑娘们聚集在门口以歌声欢送我们，但万万没想他们竟掐我们的屁股来表达对我们的热情与祝福， 让我们啼笑皆非。

阳朔探险记 - 龙门水岩逼“良”下泥巴浴
阳朔被誉为“天上人间旅游乡”。到阳朔，非得到月亮山与大榕树走一趟，看看它们独特的风采和尝一尝当地著名的啤酒鱼。 著名的阳朔龙门水岩是个的大型地下河水晶溶洞，它没有特别灯光装饰， 保持了纯天然的原始风貌。观光客须乘船入洞口，在水岩行走，有如在龙的身区里穿梭。洞长约八公里，贯穿八座大山，洞内有非常壮观的莲花宝座，天然石盆清水池，高80米的“九天瀑布” 于泥巴浴池， 十分新奇。调皮的我们还买了泳衣给保守的导游， “逼” 她与我们在水岩里洗泥巴浴，玩得不易乐乎。

我们也与一群中国人一起漂流龙颈河，冲过“九天飞瀑”，跳过“千米险滩”，度过了一个十分刺激的下午。我们沿着漂流，看着满岭的翠竹林，感觉与大自然融为一体。玩起水战时，大家都即时变成的小顽童，猛攻击路过的皮舟，玩得全身湿透透，十分过瘾。

我很喜欢背包看世界，这次的中国背包行让我享受生活轨道之外的种种奇遇。

14-day adventure in China, September 2007 (Kunming, Dali, Lijiang, Guilin, Yangshuo)

I've finally left the museum after working there for seven years. Before I venture into my new job, I had two-weeks' leave to clear. Another holiday before I start my new job, proper. Since I've just returned from the Middle East in April, I decided to go somewhere slightly "cheaper" and thus chose China. Philippines was my first option but the typhoons prevented the trip to be materialised. I've decided to revisit China with Juanita, a friend whom I met during one of the trekking trips in Malaysia.

The 2 weeks in China was interesting and full of little incidents and hiccups that made it all the more colourful. We went to Kunming, Lijiang, Dali, backtracked to Kunming and travelled another 18 hours on the train from Kunming to Guangxi, Guilin and Yangshuo.

In Kunming, we joined a one-day tour which brought us to the infamous Stone Forest (Shilin), but also many souvenir shops. We witnessed how our guide's face turned from cheery to complete black when none of us patronised the shops. A young monk told my fortune so accurately that I parted with my $150 for a brief prayer session to "bless"my family.

On the way from Kunming to Dali via overnight bus, we encountered a burglary in the bus. My haversack got molested, and thankfully, moneybag intact .

In Dali, our driver, Mr Li from the guesthouse turned out to be our guardian angel and his lovely wife too. We made friends with his two beloved dogs. Together, we went boat-rowing in the famous West Lake in Dali, saw the Bai tribe tea ceremony and wedding procession, trekked the famous Chang mountain, ate super-dupey nice "dou-fen" at his relative's stall,visited an island where the ladies worn traditional ethnic outfits and sold coral decorative items and windchimes for a living. The two lovely duo treated us like family and invited us home twice for a sumptuous spread of homecooked dishes, using fresh vegetables from her garden and eggs from her chicken in the yard.

Over dinner, we shared stories about our travels, how they met and fell in love and the fatherly Mr Li even bickered with his wife about the kind of guys would be good for me. It was a very heart-warming feeling to feel so at home in a foreign land .This is why I enjoy backpack travelling so much - to really get to know the people.

From mere acquaintances to friends, it only needs a sincere and open heart, the cultural differences and age barriers can easily be forgotten.

In Lijang, we soaked ourselves completely in this ancient town, enjoying every nook and corner we turned, playing with children and trailing old ladies wearing their traditional tribal outfits in the marketplace. In the evening, we sat by the river, listening to the talented musician playing his magic with his saxaphone, enjoyed a meal with the famous Lijang river roasted fish.

In Guilin, we became typical tourists, joined the local tour group to cruise the river at night and sailed down the picturesque trail, from Guilin to Yangshuo. The Ying Xiang Liu San Jie was a spectacular light show peformance by 40o dancers directed by famous China filmmaker, Zhang Yimou. Though there was little plot, the show was visually breathtaking, using the beautiful mountains and river as the backdrop for the performance.

In Yangshuo, we trekked to the famous Longji Terrace fields, a spectacular sight of the labourious work of the hardworking Chinese on the ricefields over centuries. We visited the world's first ever Long-hair Village, where ladies' heads are adorned with their three different "sets" of hair nicely combed into different styles and them, decked in colourful ethnic flair skirts and high stockings. Our backsides were pinchd as it was the customary way of the villagers hospitality to their guests.

We tasted the famous beerfish in Yangshuo and went shooting rapids with a family of our and a young Chinese couple. Together, we played like children, splashing water on all the other floats that came by our way, attacking other boats with gusto and mischef. My poor left arm got bitten by little bedbugs that left many red itchy marks. We went for body massage for S$5 an hour and 11/2 hour facial for S$35 before we headed to the train station to return to Kunming to make our way back to Singapore.

Despite the terrifying toilet experiences, China remains one of the most interesting countries I've visited, so vaste and so rich in culture and heritage.

Unforgettable Toilet Experiences

I love travelling. But that's one thing that I fear most, sometimes,especially when I travel to China- the toilets, those off the beatentracks.

Toilets in China come in many permutations. I've been to Yunan, Dali, Lijiang, Shangrila, Yangshou and Kunming and each toilet experience is a truly memorable one, in a good way or bad. Here are some of the "uniquely China" toilet experiences that I've encountered that remained etched in my memory bank.

1) Breathing Life - A Maggoty, Maggoty Experience, China

The "maggotful" toilets which looked seemingly harmless from the outside, but full of "life" with moving maggots...crawling by the thousands, and i really mean thousands.

Dali 2004
The toilet was a simple cement shack, with a nice new zinc roof. Looks new, should be safe, I thought to myself. One of my traveller mates decided not to take the risk, and went for the bush instead. I took up the challenge, and walked further in. The smell was overpowering."What the heck!", i thought..pressed my nose really tight..took a very, very deep breath, as if I was going down 30 metres below sea level and walked into the toilet. As I stepped into one ofthe "partitioned" cubicles, I knew that instant moment that it was a mistake.

Sights of human poo-poo were replaced with maggots, heaps and heaps of them. To look down or not to look down- Either was a tough choice. As I looked down, I saw the crawly worms happily feastingaway..moving and threatening to inch near....Okie, I decided, Don't look...but I panicked, fearing that one of the little crawly ones might climb onto my feet without me noticing it...The sight of the whole pool of white crawly worms remained in my mind, for the next few weeks. For the next whole week, i saw them every time I close my eyes. Till today, I can clearly remember the sight...scary..indeed.

Maggots Part II, Dali 2007
I was on a boat cruise in Dali. We stopped at a little fishing island, where old tribal villagers made a living by selling fishes, coral handicrafts and tea. Nothing can be worse than the maggotful toilet that I've encountered in China years ago, I thought. As usual, I took an ultra big breath and plucked my courage to go into the toilet. As I walked in, spiderwebs greeted my face. Shit, I thought to myself...this means that very few people use this toilet. I went into one of the cubicles..and I saw "them" again..from the corner of my eyes....There were so many...heaps and thousands....i didn't even dare look down. This time, I decided. "okie, look up...and I tried to admire the wonders that the spiders have done to ceiling and the prey they caught in their web. I pressed my nose real hard...and cpntinued to lookup as I focused on what I had to do.

Within a minute, I was done with my "small" business. I stepped outof the cubicle, and to my horror, there was several maggots which had also successfully crawled up the shithole, onto the floor of the cubicle, down the steps, onto the cement floor. I scrambled out of the toilet, and swore that this toilet has to be the worst I've seen in China. The mere thought of the toilet still sends shivers down my spine. literally!

2) King of Stink!
These toilets are tucked away in the dingy corners of the souvenir shops. They are always jammed-packed with tourists. You can trace the location of the toilet by the mere"aroma",so strong you can't miss even if you're a mile away. To go in, better play safe- always fold your pants up to your kneecap and axe-oil or tiger balm is a must- best if you have a super-blocked nose.

3) Open-Door Policy & Flush-Me-Not
Toilets in the rural part of China are without doors, sometimes even without partitions. Cubicles are segregated using bare tiled walls which stand at less than a metre high.You can catch a glimpse of the person in front of you in the next cubicle but I can assure that it would not be a pleasant sight..so don't bother. In short, trust my advice, Mind Your Own Business, literally..If you can, avoid doing your "big"business.most of these toilets come without a proper flush system, and worse, no water at all..if you do it, you have to bear your own consequences, put simply, Clear Your Own Shit..

4) Choose-Your-Own-Spot
I prefer this kind of "nature" toilets. In areas where there are no toilets, we have the freedom to do our business in any spot we prefer.Under the tree, behind the rock, behind the van, next to the desert bush, amongst the shrubs..at least these are clean and you have helped to fertilize the nature. I've done them all, and trust me they are good. one word of caution, just need to make sure that your friend is a good distance from you.

5) My most stressful pee experience, Shangrila 2004
We were sitting in a small pick-up van on our way to Shangrila, on a windy mountain road. One of the ladies called the bus to a halt- nature's call. All of us got down the bus. The driver told us to go to the two sides of the road,and find our own spots. We tried to walk down the pebbled ground but the gravel made the ground slippery and impossible to walk. Our drivers and our photographer were happily smoking away at the front rear of the car. "Heck lah, let's pee at the back of the van.., no one will know.", one of my travelmates suggested. The rest agreed, and followed soon. I hesitated. Before I could pluck enough courage to do so, the rest of the ladies had completed their "business".

We still had about 3-5 hours on the road. "Okie lah,no choice, I think I better do it before my face turns green." My friend, Christine said,"Just do it and I will "jiaga" foryou."I went behind the small van and tried to relieve myself. For 5 seconds, my muscles remained tensed and contracted. Another 3 seconds, still tensed. I gave up and pulled up my pants, "Shit lah, can't do it. It's just too stressful squatting in the middle of the highway with no "shelter".

Less than as second later, I saw a huge tractor coming our way. "Heng ah, lucky I gave up," otherwise the tractor driver would have get a full view of me peeing away if I had persisted. It was a narrow shave, and the most stressful experience incident I've ever experienced.

6) Tibet Pee Experience- Peeing in the Carpark with Raining Hailstones..
My good 0ld travel mate, whose name shall remain anoynomous, A* had an interesting pee experience when we travelled to Tibet in 2005. We had to spend a night in Shigaze before we reach Lhasa. Both of us suffered from high altitude sickness, hers a lot worse than mine. The toilet was about 150 metres away, a simple cement shack.

A* was lying on bed and in the middle of the night, she exclaimed, "I really need to go and pee. how?how?". Her throbbing headache caused by the high altitude sickness, and the rain outside, made the 150 metres impossible to walk.

"Aiyah, just pee outside where the cars are parked, it's so late already, nobody will see you," I advised. A*hesitated, tried to endure for another 10-15minutes, muttering to herself, nonstop about her bursting bladder andher persistent headache, before she "buay tahan" and charged towards the door.

Five minutes later, she came back, wet, cursing and swearing about the hailstones that were pelting onto her head as she was concentrating on her "business", "Wah lao, already so difficult to pee there, then some more got stones raining down from the sky." I was lying on the bed listening to the unusual pee experience by my exasperated friend. Finally there was peace in the room as we nestled back into our beds, trying to forget our spinning heads to get a little weeny bit of sleep.

7) A Near-ghost Experience in Nepal
After a day of trekking along the Jomson trek, we checked into one of the guest house. The guesthouse was interesting decorated. The dimly lit corridor walkway had a plush carpet from one end to to other, and looked somewhat haunting. Our room was at the opposite end of thetoilet.My roommate A* wanted to go to the washroom, but was afraid ofthe dark. "Please lah, please lah, go with me to the toilet," she begged. I was lazy and refused, "Just bring your torchlight lah." A*started hopping and jumping up and down the room, in her usual exaggerated self, threatening to pee in the room if I didn't accede toher request.I compromised and agreed to wait for her to the middle ofthe walkway.

"Don't go okie, wait for me here.," she quivered, and left her torch shining my direction, casting a ghostly shadow of me. I waited for about a while, before one "angmo" traveller came up from the stairway. He seemed to be a little shocked by this "ghostly figure"with long hair standing near the stairway. He paused for a while, before he asked, " What are you doing here, in the middle of the night?" Bemused, I replied, "Don't worry, I'm not a ghost. I'm just waiting for my friend who's using the washroom coz she's afraid of the dark."

7) A Ghostly Toilet Experience in Switzerland
Accomondation in Switzerland is very expensive and being backpackers, we went for the cheapest hotel in Luzern, a small hotel up at the hilltop. The room was spacious, there was a big king-size bed and two small beds near the television. The toilet was just right outside the room. Both of us fought over who would get to sleep on the big king-size bed.I went to the toilet to shower. I had an uneasy feeling somehow, as if someone was looking at me. The hot air from the hot shower turned the mirror foggy. I had to wash my face in "parts", making sure that at least my eyes were not closed at any one time.

There was a persistent "knock, knock, knock" on my toilet door . That impatient A*again, i thought. I came out of the shower room, queried her three times. She said, she didn't. A*asked me to accompany her to the washroom. I didn't. She had a super quick shower, ran back to the room with her bare towel. There was a spooky feel in the room, but none of us spoke about it at night.

The television was left on, with a free channel showing excerpts of sex services and pornography throughout the night, to create some "sound effects" for the the hauntingly quiet room. Both of us slept in the two small side beds next to the television. The big king size bed was left untouched.

We discussed about the strange feeling the next day after we left the guesthouse. Like me, Arlina washed her face, "in parts", with her eyes open.

游牧人帐棚的那一夜- A Night With the Nomads

其中一个最难忘的经验莫过于在沿着山路寻找游牧人， 并在游牧人的 帐棚度过的那一夜。车窗外没有高楼大厦，但有无边无祭的高山草原， 走了大约三小时，才找到游牧人终迹。游牧人的妇女看到我们三个女生，非常的开心，她们的孩子们对我们十分好奇。她们频频端来茶水，西瓜， 还拿出她们珍藏的服饰与金饰让我们试穿。随着播音机播放的中东音乐，妇女与小孩不禁翩翩起舞， 她们一举手，一头足，玩的不亦乐呼， 我们在旁也拍得十分起劲。

游牧人的帐棚是亲手用羊毛做的， 能档风遮阳。帐棚内扑了鲜艳夺目的毛毯和布料，让阴暗的帐棚多了一些色彩。他们还邀请我们试试中东传统的水烟。好奇的我试了一口就猛咳嗽，再也不敢多抽一口。到了下午， 十九岁的姬娜开始在帐棚外为大家预备晚餐。 我们闲这没事也帮忙切菜，洗米。在暗暗的帐棚里， 点着油灯跟一大群游牧人一起吃晚餐，感觉非常亲切。在这样一个封闭的环境中，人们还是非常的好客有善， 令我们十分感动。

餐后，我们坐在帐棚里， 面对着七八个陌生的男人， 但一点都不觉得惟却。他们对新家坡有许多的好奇，问不完的问题。我们就这样，通过我们的导游，与游牧人们谈了好久。从牧羊，结婚礼俗 谈到教育致度，到 房屋与车子的价格， 香烟的价钱等等。

伊朗-伊斯法罕- Part Two-Esfahan

伊朗历史优久的建筑非常的漂亮壮观。 由其建于公元前4、5世纪的历史名城伊斯法罕市(Esfahan) 的夜景，更是令人震憾。 伊斯法罕市是伊朗最古老的城市之一。伊朗人民喜欢到公园，广场和河边的草地上聚在一起。要想感染当地悠闲家庭气氛， 目睹那温馨的一幕， 最好的方法就是傍晚到河边散步。

我们沿这河散步，看着 男女老少坐在厚大的地毯上，旁边支着小茶炉，一家人一起聊天，妇女们叽叽喳喳，孩子们跑来跑去， 十分歇意。伊斯法罕有四道古桥。我们也在河边乘坐了天鹅船。本以为会很浪漫，没想到在美丽的天鹅溪水背后， 竟然要有三双脚不停的骑着，累得我们呱呱大叫。也是其中一个著名桥之一。在建于1602年的三十三孔桥下， 又称Si-o-she Bridge，Bridge of 33 Arches) ，一个漂亮的伊朗少女主动用英语跟我们聊天。她正在上英语课程， 一看到有少见的旅客， 就想找人练习英文。

经过两次伊朗男士奇怪的约会后，我们决定避免与伊朗男士说话。在河边，我们主动和两个伊朗的女生，徐娜思和她的侄女“搭讪”，邀请她们跟我们一起吃晚餐。隔天， 她们真的赴约，到我们的客栈找我们。徐娜思还带了会说英文的哥哥与我们见面。那天的晚餐持的非常的愉快， 哥哥也很有生式风度，让我们对伊朗男人好色的想法改观。

餐后， 他们还特地带我们到山上欣赏伊斯法罕谜人的夜景。我们也回到伊玛姆广场去。虽然当时天气很冷，但我们早已被他们的诚意和温情而感动，觉得十分温暖。看着迷漫的灯光把美丽的建筑和清真寺的影子投映在水面，我们不禁对伊朗的文明感到佩服。

著名的波斯波利斯古建筑群 Persepolis曾是古波斯帝国兴盛的见证，是个不可错过的历史景点。 位于伊朗西南部历史文化名城设拉子东北约60公里处，2500多年前古波斯帝国全盛时期，它曾是一座金碧辉煌、雄伟壮丽的宫院。整个宫殿建筑在长450米、宽300米的石台上，其规模宏伟、气魄浩大体现了伊朗杰出的古代文明和人民的高度智慧。

我们也到了列为世界文化遗产的历史景点， 包括 乔加赞比尔古建筑群(Yadz)、巴姆古堡、
、乔加赞比尔古建筑群（胡泽斯坦省）， 也参观了一些博物馆， 例如伊朗地毯博物馆 。
伊朗历史优久的建筑非常的漂亮壮观。 由其建于公元前4、5世纪的历史名城伊斯法罕市(Esfahan) 的夜景，更是令人震憾。 伊斯法罕市是伊朗最古老的城市之一。伊朗人民喜欢到公园，广场和河边的草地上聚在一起。要想感染当地悠闲家庭气氛， 目睹那温馨的一幕， 最好的方法就是傍晚到河边散步。

我们沿这河散步，看着 男女老少坐在厚大的地毯上，旁边支着小茶炉，一家人一起聊天，妇女们叽叽喳喳，孩子们跑来跑去， 十分歇意。伊斯法罕有四道古桥。我们也在河边乘坐了天鹅船。本以为会很浪漫，没想到在美丽的天鹅溪水背后， 竟然要有三双脚不停的骑着，累得我们呱呱大叫。也是其中一个著名桥之一。在建于1602年的三十三孔桥下， 又称Si-o-she Bridge，Bridge of 33 Arches) ，一个漂亮的伊朗少女主动用英语跟我们聊天。她正在上英语课程， 一看到有少见的旅客， 就想找人练习英文。

经过两次伊朗男士奇怪的约会后，我们决定避免与伊朗男士说话。在河边，我们主动和两个伊朗的女生，徐娜思和她的侄女“搭讪”，邀请她们跟我们一起吃晚餐。隔天， 她们真的赴约，到我们的客栈找我们。徐娜思还带了会说英文的哥哥与我们见面。那天的晚餐持的非常的愉快， 哥哥也很有生式风度，让我们对伊朗男人好色的想法改观。

餐后， 他们还特地带我们到山上欣赏伊斯法罕谜人的夜景。我们也回到伊玛姆广场去。虽然当时天气很冷，但我们早已被他们的诚意和温情而感动，觉得十分温暖。看着迷漫的灯光把美丽的建筑和清真寺的影子投映在水面，我们不禁对伊朗的文明感到佩服。

著名的波斯波利斯古建筑群 Persepolis曾是古波斯帝国兴盛的见证，是个不可错过的历史景点。 位于伊朗西南部历史文化名城设拉子东北约60公里处，2500多年前古波斯帝国全盛时期，它曾是一座金碧辉煌、雄伟壮丽的宫院。整个宫殿建筑在长450米、宽300米的石台上，其规模宏伟、气魄浩大体现了伊朗杰出的古代文明和人民的高度智慧。

我们也到了列为世界文化遗产的历史景点， 包括 乔加赞比尔古建筑群(Yadz)、巴姆古堡、 乔加赞比尔古建筑群（胡泽斯坦省）， 也参观了一些博物馆， 例如伊朗地毯博物馆 。

伊朗- 第一站- First Stop in Iran

伊朗是我们在中东的第一站。我们得在新加坡乘搭飞机到迪拜的多哈机场，再转机到伊朗，路途非常的遥远。 可是，我们一抵达伊朗的首都德黑兰，所有的疲累都烟消云散。对于来自城市的三个女生来说，中东与新加坡的生活方式截然不同。

伊朗的路上虽然有交通灯， 但似乎没用人理睬。 伊朗人的驾驶习惯也很不好，车子开驶 得很快， 而且万全没有守交通规则。 要过马路时千万要很小心，但在小心之于， 也要“放胆”的走， 因为车子很少会慢下速度。乘搭德士须先跟师机说好车费，从市中心飞机场大约 要50，000 rials.

伊朗的法律规定，每一位女性都必须戴头巾，也不允许穿短裤凉鞋。旅客也不例外。伊朗妇女只有在自己的家里才可以把头巾拿下来。她们的穿着很保守。 街上来来往往的妇女都披着传统的服饰或头巾。长长的黑袍，都把她们漂亮的脸孔和身躯遮掩起来。

幸好，我们在出国前，都早已做好准备，到了“小印度”那儿购买了头巾和服饰。因为从头到脚都得包的密密的，所以我们的旅行箱里，都是一些长袖上衣和裤子。刚开始时，大家的确很不习惯“包头”的日子，老是忘了出门前 戴上头巾。 但过了几天，我们也慢慢地容入在这习俗里，也习惯了这样的穿着方式。 穿袜子又穿凉鞋， 头上裹着头巾的我们像极了乡巴佬， 连我们看到自己的模样都啼笑皆非。幸好没什么熟人，认得出我们三个来自新加坡的村姑。

从德黑兰乘坐火车到伊斯法罕市途中与三位当地的妇女同在一个车厢的经验也十分猾 激。 我们语言不通，只能以鸡同鸭讲的方式来沟通。车厢门一关，妇女们就把长袍取 下，里面穿的是贴身无袖的服饰。服务生一敲门， 大家又忙成一团，忙着“包头”， 穿外套，穿袜子， 才可以“见”人。

伊朗的货币是Rial。汇率大约是一欧元换11，000 Rials。 我们顿时成了百万小富婆！不过逛街时，我们就得携带大笔大笔的钞票。付款的时候，必须找个角落，仔细地数一数钞票才能付钱。真的不是开玩笑，光是数数钞票，就得花上老半天。想到那儿旅游的朋友可得注意了。伊朗的银行系统和我们熟悉的西方致度是隔绝的。信用卡在那里完全没法使用。 无知的我还带了八百元的新币，天真的以为有须时可以换成美元，但新币在伊朗根本没有银行会接受。

伊朗街边的饮食大同小异，没多大的选择。我们 每天三餐都吃烤肉（我们熟悉的kebab），串肉和薄饼子或米饭。所以到那里没多久，我们就开始想念新加坡的海南鸡饭，沙爹, laksa 等等。

伊朗人的相貌真的非常的好看－高高的鼻梁，深邃的眼眶、修长的睫毛。俊男美女到处可见，小孩更是可爱极了。因为国家的封闭，所以老老少少的伊朗人民，都不免对我们这些来自亚洲的旅客感到好奇。虽然语言不通， 但我们还是能通过比手画脚的方式与他们沟通，“聊天”，甚至有说有笑。 我们在中东所遇到的怪事与状况连连，趣事更一罗框。

在德黑兰的第一天，我们在一个清真寺外，拍拍照，想捕捉美丽的风景。有一位商人发现到我们在拍他，便迎面走了过来，要请我们喝茶。这时，他却拿出手机，对着我们猛拍照，还乘机把手搭在亚丽娜的肩上！身旁有一位在贩卖东西的大叔大概看不惯这商人“色色”的举动， 便说了一些话想替我们打报不评。商人当然很不悦，马上流露出气愤的表情。两人的声量也越来越大， 引起了周围路人的注意。 我们也不敢怎样，只好乖乖的坐在那里，眼看着围观的人越来越多， 感觉就像马戏团的动物，不知所措。

有好几次， 我们在旅游景点跟当地的小女学生们聊天时，被她们丛丛包围， 要我们在她们的簿子和小字条上签名留言， 顿时让我们感觉到当明星的滋味，签名签到手都麻了。

在阿炳哟呢和村 (Abyoneh Village)参观时，我们又被一群高中女生邀请享受她们摆放在毛毯上的丰盛的美食。不止如此，她们这些调皮的小女生还逼着要我们跳舞。这也难怪，因为社会保守，自己并不能在大庭广众跳舞， 就想要我们跳舞，透过我们的肢体和她们的音乐，大概也能让她们“享受〃舞蹈， 做他们一直想但有不能做的事。其他的小女生也跑了过来，个个都想要认识我们。最后，这些热情的女生们还以动人的歌声向我们道别，让我们感动不已。

我们在客栈里认识了珊尼先生。他说了一口流利的英语，还热心地邀请我们到他家与他的家人见面， 吃晚餐。在还未到中东前，我曾听朋友说过伊朗人十分豪爽好客，受邀到他们的家是平常事。所以我们这一次收到当地人的邀请， 并没觉得意外，反而感到特别兴奋。就这样，毫不犹豫地接受了珊尼先生的邀请。

第一次到别人家做客，当然不能两手空空的。所以，我们特地带了些我们从新加坡买来的小礼物和头巾，想要送给珊尼太太，当成见面礼，也算是回敬珊尼先生的好意。珊尼先生与我们约好七点半在客栈会面。他先把我们载到他妹妹的家。 妹妹虽然对突如奇来的不宿之客 有点惊讶，但还是热情宽待。她急急忙忙到厨房准备了水果花生等来招待我们。之后，珊尼先生和他 十九岁的侄子又说有朋友想要跟我们见面， 把我们载到一个偏远的住宅区去。

珊尼先生与我们约好七点半在客栈会面。他先把我们载到他妹妹的家。 妹妹虽然对突如奇来的不宿之客 有点惊讶，但还是热情宽待。她急急忙忙到厨房准备了水果花生等来招待我们。之后，珊尼先生和他 十九岁的侄子又说有朋友想要跟我们见面， 把我们载到一个偏远的住宅区去。

他的朋友看起来文质彬彬， 家里还有一个十岁大的儿子。珊尼先生说朋友的太太到另外一个小镇去接 孩子，应该在一个小时内会到家。当时已经九点半，我们也开始觉得情况有些不对劲。好不容易等到十点半， 听到门铃声时，我们还以为是太太回来， 晚餐也有着落了。不料， 不但没看他的太太，从大门进来的竟是珊尼先生另一班朋友， 全都是男性。

坐在客厅里， 一排男人对着 我们三个“弱女子”，大眼瞪小眼，感觉非常的奇怪。珊尼先生和他的朋友还特地播放音乐，跑到我们面前，跳了一段性感的中东舞给我们看。我们只能假装忙拍照，心 怕被逼于他们跳舞。后来， 看到其中一个男人随意把手放在微珍的肩上， 我们极刻找了一个理由， 说我们累了，请 珊尼先生送我们回去。

就这样， 我们带着空空的肚子， 未送的礼物回到客栈， 心里不免有一些“受骗”的感觉。 一天内遇到两次奇怪的状况，一个是没有晚餐的约会， 另一个更是一个很慌唐的要求。

我们与莫哈曼，他的叔叔， 阿弥尔和他的朋友是在伊斯法罕市的小巷问路时认识的。 阿弥尔和他的朋友是商人，当天 刚好修假。他们非常的热心， 不只把我们送到我们要去的其伊玛姆清真寺(Blue Mosque) 和伊玛姆广场，还坚持替我们付入门费，陪着我们到处游逛。参观了著名的景点后，他们还邀请我们到当地的传统餐厅吃午餐。

餐后， 他们又请我们到 阿弥尔的居缩去。我们坐在宽畅，铺满了毛毯 的客厅里，和新交的朋友无所不谈。悠闲的下午不料被一个突如奇来， 十分慌谬的要求给破坏。当我们聊的正起劲时，莫哈曼忽然说有些问题想问我，叫我跟他到睡房去。“我的叔叔想要包包你和亲亲你，可以嘛？”我被问这么奇怪的问题时， 感到很惊讶， 也不晓得要如何回复， 只好说，“No, no, Chinese and Muslim same same. cannot.sorry”,他又说，“But why? You are in Iran！" 我只好随意撒了个谎，"Boyfriend in Singapore . not happy. cannot cannot." 在伊斯兰教法里，女性是不可以和不是自己丈夫的男人有任何身体上的接触。 我想他们这样的要求也只有在“外人”面前才敢说得出口。事后想想，我们很顺力的从他的家“逃”出来，幸好有惊无险，真的是捏了一把冷汗。

中东历险记-四月七日至五月七日- (INTRO)

对许多人来说，中东是个充满危险，政治不安的地方。大多数的新加坡女生都会选择到繁疆 喧哗的国家， 例如香港、 台湾 、 日本去旅游等旅游。中东大概不会是她们旅游的第一选择。

但对爱背包旅行看世界的我，中东却有一种莫明的魅力，深深的吸引我，对她有一百零 一个问题，一千 零一个好奇。 越是看到报纸刊登关于伊朗恐怖分子及核武器的新闻，越是让我更想到神秘的中东去， 看看这所谓充满着战乱的地方到底跟媒体呈现的有多大的差异。

今年的四月初，我终于实现了我的愿望。我与两位死档，微珍和亚丽娜结伴到这似曾相识 即神秘又陌生的中东去看个究竟。在一个月里，我们走遍了伊朗，土耳其及叙利亚。在中东的一个月里 ，我们不仅结识了许多当地朋友，还看了无数的清真寺和历史景点，吃了许多的烤腌肉串。

这次的行程也让我们有机会地体会到当地老百姓的生活，遇到了非常好客、友善的中东人。虽然途中，我们也曾遭受了一些奇怪的骚扰与惊吓，冒了好几次险， 庆幸的是，我们都能化险为夷，相安无事。这些小插曲确让我们这次的背包之旅，增添了一些“艳色” 和“戏剧性。

One Night Stay in Perangang , Malaysia

I had initially "chio-chioed" Arlina and Christine to go Pulau Ubin on Saturday for cycling. Arlina called to ask if I wanted to go Perangang instead? We had always wanted to go to Pengarang but never got around to put our act together. Just then, Christine called to say that she couldn't go Pulau Ubin as she had to work overtime. No excuse not to go to Perangang then, I thought and called to meet Arlina at Changi jetty at 3pm.

For those who are keen to make a day trip to Perangang, the "registration" is made on the left of the Changi Jetty facing the staircase. The queue line for Pulau Ubin is on the right, nearer to the provision shop.

Stacks of passports were bundled and placed on the "registration" table who was unmanned. We asked around, and found out from the other Singaporeans and Malaysians who were in the queue that there were no boats at the jetty yet. Each bumboat can take up to 12 people. There were two other stacks of passports on the table, before ours. Arlina had placed her passport onto a new stack of passports and I followed suit.

We were happily munching chips and eating ice-cream when our tranquil peace was interrupted by an ang-mo "housefly", as I've coined him. He's about 60-70 years old, sporting a wig. Accompanying him were two Filippinas, one looked very fair-skinned and gentle, like a Vietnamese, and the other resembled a typical Thai or Indonesian prostitute, both barely reaching the man's armpit.

Prostitution and sex trade is not foreign to me. Having travelled and stayed in the red-light district in Thailand where sex-trade is the one of the key economy drivers, and sat amongst the prostitutes, seeing old ang-mos with young Asian girls is a common sight. Sometimes, I still wonder...maybe the ang-mo's wives have passed away and they are just in search of partners to keep them company during their lonesome days, maybe they think that this is their last chance to "enjoy" themselves, or maybe cheap sex is just too available to resist in Asia.

I could "smell" the cheekopeh from miles away. The two tiny women struggled to carry their luggages nearer to the "registration" counter.
The housefly began his rounds,
"Are you going to Perangang", he asked.
"Yes, Arlina and I chorused.
"Is this the boat to Perangang? Can we get to Perangang?", he asked again.
"Yes, we are also waiting for the boat to go to Perangang and there are others in the queue for the boats," we replied.
"Why are the passports lying on the table like that?, he pursued.
We got a little irritated, after his numerous rounds of asking, but still maintained our cool, "These people came before us, we are waiting to form a third group for the next boat."
"You think we can get to Perangang?", he asked.
"We are also waiting. We are not sure, but yes, we do want to get to Perangang too."
"You think we can get to Perangang? You know whether the boat is coming. How do you know if there is any boat coming. You sure we can get a boat there?", the "loh-soh" ang-mo persisted.
"We're not sure. I don't know. I'm also a tourist. I Why don't you ask the custom officers over there? Maybe they will know," Arlina pointed to the custom officer in uniform, showing her irritation by then.

I couldn't help but observed the behaviour of this ang-mo cheekopeh. The Thai-looking Filippino lady had some reservations, i think she was worried that the custom officers would question her identity. The ang-mo wrapped his arms around her, and reassured,
"No problem, you are my girlfriend, and she (the other girl) is your sister.

During the one-hour wait at the jetty, the ang-mo was as irritating as a housefly. He kept buzzing around the registration table, repeatedly asking the same questions,
"Are you the boatman?", "Is this the bus?", "Can we get to Perangang? ", to every person that he chanced upon.

The cheeko ang mo was supposed to go to Desaru tomorrow and really wanted to go there. When told about the $8 boat fare, the cheapskate ang-mo told the two girls to pay the fare themselves. He claimed that he had very little Singapore money, and most of his money were in Malaysia ringgit. The two Filippinas looked hesitant before asking, "how much?" , "Eight dollars each person,"the ang-mo said, and triumphantly added, "When we go to Malaysia, I have lots of money, and smiled.

Yucks, I was disgusted.

The fare for the one-hour boat ride to Pengerang is S$8. There is no definite schedule for the boat. Arlina chatted with a young Malay lady who was also in the queue. She suggested that we should go to Sungei Ringgit, which is about 18-20 km away from the jetty. The standard taxi fare from the jetty to Sungei Ringgit is $8.00 per person and takes about 10-15 minutes.

Many Singaporeans go to Pengarang on weekends for seafood or cycling expeditions. Some people say that Pengarang is somewhat similar Pulau Ubin and has a rustic charm.

We soon checked into a cheap hotel and soon roamed the streets, in search of lunch.Arlina had Marybrown chicken and coke for a late lunch. We strolled around the little town. A Ramly beef burger at $2 ringgit and 10 sticks of satay (chicken and beef)plus the rice cake, for $5, that's what I had for dinner. The satay stall was a make-shift one along main street.

After dinner, we strolled around the little town, saw barbers busy at work in their little salons, children running around. Arlina calls Pengarang a "cowboy" town. I prefer it to be called a quaint rustic little town though.

We checked ourselves into Let Seng Hotel,which cost 35 ringgit per night. The room was basic but clean. This was the third hotel we enquired, all the rest were all full. According to the hotel owner, there was a wedding in town and many of the relatives from Singapore came into Malaysia and booked many of the hotel rooms.

Though we did not manage to cycle or eat seafood, like what most Singaporeans usually do, it was still an interesting trip. All three batteries that I've brought were flat and I couldn't take any pictures. I willl definitely be back to take photographs of this little fishing town and have a big seafod feast!

:)
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Dos and Don'ts in the Middle East

5 Dos and Don’ts in Middle East
Dos
1) Bring a digital camera to take photographs. It is really a good tool to break the ice and make friends.
2) "Tabao" little presents and snacks to reciprocate their generousity and kindness. Syrians are really hospitable and friendly people. You can expect to get free food and drinks at the souq and even at the little dessert shops, just by standing around and watching them. We've got free sweets, peanuts, drinks, and even a slice of soap free.
3) Bring a headscarf in your bag when you go out. It would be useful when you need to enter mosques as some mosques would require you to “cover-up”
4) Follow the flow... if you see the locals queuing for food, just follow. It's guaranteed to be good. At least our experiment did work. Try the authentic Syrian pancake- it’s pancake with cheese doused in honey. It’s especially nice when it’s piping hot. Sweet!
5) Chopsticks make wonderful gifts to the people. They are curious about the Chinese way of using chopsticks and it’s a great way to start a cultural exchange teaching them how to use the Chinese chopsticks.
6) Interact with the people and make friends, you’ll get a lot more insight into the country, the people and even crude jokes about their own country and their cultures.
7) Lie about your marital status. It’s best to tell them that you’re married, or has a boyfriend who is working in Singapore. This would help to avoid any unnecessary propositions to kiss-and-hug. Trust me!
8) If you need to use the toilets or the washrooms, ask them for the W.C. They would know how to direct you, terms like toilets and washrooms do not ring any bell.

Don’ts
1)Don’t use the Okie sign. In Singapore, it means okie, but in Iran, it means asshole and it’s very, very rude to show the Okie sign.
2)The good sign (“hao”) that we are ever so comfortable using means “Fuck You” in Iran. A great cultural shock for us as we had been using the okie sign
3)Don’t ever, ever try your luck to get your visa done at the border between Turkey and Syria. We had to wait for 12 hours and according to the staff at the border, some people had waited for 1-2 days and it was very common to do so. If you are travelling to Syria, go either by air or get your visa ready in Istanbul.

Last Night in Damascus & A Proposition for a One-Night Stand

It was our last night in Damascus. WeiChean and Arlina were too lazy, too poor and tired to go out for dinner. We had joined the excursion with the local Syrian teenagers that Chef Amir had organized the day before and it was very enjoyable as we had a good taste of a typical day in the life of Syria.

We have had dinner at Admir’s restaurant before. The food was not excellent, it was too bland for the Asian palate. I decided to go to La Roche Restaurant to visit Admir, the chef for the last time as a little gesture to thank him for all his help and making the arrangements for our taxi transfer to the airport the next day. My kind intention was not reciprocated in the way I would like though, unfortunately.

Admir, according to Arlina was 38-year-old, though he looked definitely older than that. I ordered a nuts-soup, chicken-thigh with melted cheese and a strawberry juice. Despite that fact that he has been working as a chef for many years, his culinary skills are still not up to mark unfortunately. The only reason why I went to his restaurant was because that was my little way of thanking him for helping us make all the necessary arrangements for our airport transfer, the excursion yesterday and the complimentary tea in the morning.

I went to the restaurant at about 9pm and we chatted about many things. He shared his dreams of opening his own restaurants, and poured his heart about how his last girlfriend chose not to marry him because her father works in the catering business and she saw how her mom suffered, when her dad could not be with the family on special occasions and public holidays due to work. I shared about my family members, how my twin sister is a mother of two now and what he can do to help improve his business.

During the conversation, he asked me if I had a boyfriend. I let my guard down and said admitted no.
”Oh, come on, don’t tell me you’ve never experienced love before, but why?” he asked.
He gave some sound advice, about how I should open up my social circle, meet new people and keep my options open in Singapore. To me the advice he gave was very fatherly.

Then things started getting a little bit strange. Admir asked if I would like to drink some alcohol as he has some left from the excursion. I declined politely and told him that he could drink if he wanted, but he said, he wouldn’t want to drink it alone if I was not keen to drink.

He asked if I would accept his offer since it was my last night in Damascus.
”We can be together and come back tomorrow morning,” he suggested, advancing nearer to me, conveniently placing one arm at the back of my chair.
I panicked, but manage to act cool, and said, “Thank you for the offer, but no.”

“By why? come on!” he requested.

Arlina and I had been talking about preserving and protecting our chastity during our trip from all the cheekopeh Iranian men, and I had never expected this Syrian man to be like the Iranian ones.
I said, “ oh, I prefer to keep it.” Admir pointed with his index finger at me and inched closer, “Believe me, You don’t want to keep it and I don’t want to keep it.” He obviously did not understand what I meant.

“Sorry no, I’m leaving tomorrow, I said.”, I said in a somewhat cool manner but my mind was scrambling for an excuse to get out of his restaurant.
“Come on, next month, I will be very busy and you will be very busy. Tonight is the best chance for you and me. He gave a very intense stare and I looked away, pretending to be busy with my camera. I need it and I think you need it too,” I didn’t dare look at him in the eyes but I knew he was looking for an answer from me. “No thank you, I am a conservative girl,” I said,and pretended to be very busy.
I started to side-track to many irrelevant topics, showing him photographs of other restaurants in Turkey and photographs of all the food items I’ve taken during my trip.

Thankfully, a new customer came in to order his meal. I seized the chance to pack my notes, my camera and made my quick escape out from the restaurant, when he was in the midst of talking to his customer.
“You leaving now?”
“Yes, yes, I have many things to pack in the room and it’s getting late. The girls are waiting for me. We’re leaving tomorrow and I still have many things to pack.”
He made his last attempt once more.

“Okay, you pack your bag, then you come back here. We will come back tomorrow morning.”

“No thank you, thank you and see you tomorrow morning, I said as I trailed away back to the hotel, feeling cheated of my kind intentions.

Syrians are very hospitable but the overall experience was slightly marred by this incident. Arlina said I was asking for it, as I had gone to the restaurant on my own, without the girls. Weichean said that he might have misunderstood my dinner visit to mean that I was interested in him. My conclusion and the takeaway lesson from this experience: Never reveal your single identity to the foreign men, just lie to play safe. And don’t be too friendly to the men, sometimes the men just don’t see it as genuine friendship but as a special invitation.

A Day Excursion to the Waterfall & Farm in Hama, Damascus, 4th May 2007

After a whole day of shopping at the souq in Damascus, we tried to get a travel agency to arrange a day trip out of Damascus, but were told that as it was the low season, it would not be easy to do so. We went to a few agencies but our attempts were futile.

Just when our hopes were fast vanishing, we went into this nearby restaurant, just 5-minute walk away from our guest-house. The owner, Admir told us that he had a group of Iranian students who were going for a excursion to the nearby waterfall and farm the very next day and asked if we were keen to go along. Each person had to pay 900 Syrian pounds, about US$20, inclusive of the transport, breakfast and lunch. We were more than happy to join the tour as we were just pondering about what to do with ourselves the next day.

After a month of sight-seeing, it was really good to get this opportunity to immerse ourselves into a typical day of the Syrian people. The excursion showed us the simple fun that Syrian people enjoy and their leisure activities. There were a total of 35 people, most of the participants were between 19-26 years old, and this excursion was organized to allow them to get to know more people, a little like our SDU in Singapore. It was fun just watching the dynamics of the different clichés, and observing the moves that the Iranian men made to the pretty French gal who was working in the French embassy.

After a 3-hour bus ride, we finally reached the waterfall. It was very interesting strolling around the waterfall and watching the varied activities of the Syrian people. Many families were relaxing on their picnic mats, with home-cooked food and nan (bread). In the same stream, sights of children playing of the water, a family washing their rice and fruits along the riverbank, and another family washing their dishes. Along the riverbank, young Iranian teenagers smoking shisha (waterpipes), another group happily dancing in sync with the with loud Middle-eastern music blasting from the speakers they brought from home. I was invited to drink a cup of chay (tea) from a three-generation family who was enjoying a picnic and took shots of their lovely grandchildren who were more than happy to pose their candid smiles for my camera. Arlina, Wei Chean and I helped Chef Admir to prepare lunch, cutting the bread into halves, spreading butter and jam over the bread and cooking the sausages over the barbecue-fire. Breakfast was served at close to noon and we were starved by then.

The next stop was the farm, which was another 2-hour drive from the waterfall. There was nothing much to do for us at the farm, besides a quick tour of the farm to look at the new facilities and the ducks and geese they kept. We lazed around in the Bedouin-tent and talked to some of the participants of the excursion. There was a 26-year-old lawyer who spoke very good English. He was one of those who were carrying a torch for the French gal and we could see sparks flying though it was the first time they met. Together, we chatted from topics like things we like about Syria, housing in Singapore, Indonesia maids, bomohs to gay and lesbian relationships in Singapore. When Wei Chean told him that Singapore in the capital for gay activities in Southeast Asia, he was shocked, and we bemused. The friendly Syrians also taught us how to play an interesting card game using just Jacks, Queens, Kings and As. It was a test of our alertness and was really enjoyable and fun. Thankfully, there was a Syrian guy who was very slow in his reflexes and I managed to clear my cards before him.

Lunch was served at 6.30pm and our stomachs were growling by then. It was a sumptuous spread of salads, chicken and jacket potatoes. However, having lunch at 6.30pm was a little strange for our Singaporean stomachs. After dinner, everyone was just relaxing in the Bedouin tent. Some of the Syrian teenagers decided to dance and soon, there were about 8 of them dancing to the music. The dance steps were very interesting, like a cross between tap-dancing and Middle-Eastern dancing. We were happily nestled on the sofa set, admiring the skilful dance moves of these youngsters. Chef Admir came out with two huge plates of desserts, bite-sized muffins coated with chocolate sauce and sliced pineapples and they were completely wiped out in no time.

Aleppo, Syria

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Of Souq, Karfels and Free Snacks and Heaps & Heaps of Generousity

A week in Syria in Aleppo and Damascus was short, but the Syrian people have touched our hearts deeply through their little gestures and generousity. Their genuine warmth and smiles made Syria one of the friendliest countries that I’ve ever visited, far more so than Iran.

As we walked along the streets, people smiled and said, Al-sarmal-lay-comb-Welcome! They may not speak English at all but the English term, Welcome, seemed engrained into their minds, even the old shopowner who didn’t utter a word of English.

Syrian people are dessert and pastry-lovers. There are many small bakeries and shops selling the authentic desserts and snacks. On our second day, we were attracted by the delicious spread of snacks nicely displayed in the shopfront. Unable to resist the temptation, we went into the shop to buy a few snacks to whet our appetite. We chose about five snacks and went to the counter to pay for our selection. The shop attendant placed the snacks into a nice box, and to our pleasant surprise, they said, “No, Free!” We were thankful and went out of the shop, with a “melting-heart”. “The people are so nice, can die, make my heart melt” we chorused.

On the same day, we went to the largest souq in Aleppo and had some very interesting conversations with some of the shop owners there. We were offered free bread when we stood by the side to watch them prepare the bread, Weichean was given a small slice of soap by a passer-by. I was offered nuts by the shop-owner at the tailor shop while Weichean and Arlina were busy bargaining for cheaper buys. Maybe it was because it was rare to see three Asian gals travelling in Syria on their own, but the hospitality was heartfelt.

Making Friends at the Souq in Aleppo, Syria
We were in the souq talking to a bunch of young shop owners who were relatives. They have about 17 shops in the souq, all selling carpets, scarves and jewelleries. It was really fun talking to them, hear them “bitch” and bicker with one another. One of them even had a Singaporean boyfriend previously.
I was talking to the gay shopowner when his “gaydar” sensed an attractive foreigner walking passed the shop, eating his kebab and became completely distracted. He stood up from his seat, and said, “In my next life, I wished I’m the sandwich.”
I laughed, and his brother said, “You see, my brother is gay. Very obvious. And I’m straight.”

“Not for long, retorted the brother, as he puffed the smoke from his shisha casually.

One of them, the youngest 19-year-old, was totally infatuated with Wei Chean, “She’s so beautiful, so fucking beautiful.” “She’s too old for you, I told him jokingly.” “Missus, age does not matter, size does. If I love somebody, I will plan for our future.”

Arlina and Her Mistaken Identity
Arlina could possibly be a closet lesbian. At least the Syrian men in both Aleppo and Damascus thought so.
"You are gay. I can see it through your eyes,” said one of the cousins at the shop further down the stretch of shophouses. Arlina tried very hard to change this mistaken identity but without much success, even when she said, “I like boys! I like boys very much.” He refused to believe her and insisted that Arlina should meet his girlfriend who is bisexual. “I show you photographs of her.” Within seconds, he came back with photographs of his girlfriend and asked Arlina if she fancied her. “But I like boys, girls no feeling,” she stressed.
He remained convinced that Arlina was gay.

Just then, another of the cousin came, and he said, “My sister was normal before she met this girl. Once you meet her and you let her touch you, you will change.” The situation was so absurd I couldn’t stop laughing.
“Okay, you give her 15 minutes. Just meet her for a while, I will call her on the phone now, you talk to her, and chucked the phone to Arlina. Arlina sulked and refused.

“Today after work, we go for a party. I will get her to come, and with us, we go for a party, okie?” I knew where and what he was talking about. These private parties can turn out to be rendezvous parties for the young Syrians and sex would probably be somewhere in the agenda. I quickly said something casually, “Oh, we have to go to the mosque later today.”

“I asked you to join us for a party and you said you want to go mosque,” He signed and said. My answer to his question was way out-of-context, but we quickly made our exit before things became dodgy.

Four days later, the 26-year-old lawyer we met in Damascus during the day trip excursion at the waterfall said the exact same things about Arlina interestingly. “Yes, I think you’re gay. Because I can see it in your eyes.” Arlina was hopping mad and insisted to know why. “Maybe not now, but definitely five years from now, he said, with much conviction”. That left Arlina speechless, and me, the bystander, bemused. But one thing for sure, I know my old pal long enough to know that she is perfectly straight, and perhaps for “cheeko” than any of the “cheekopehs” we have met along the way.

My First Hammam Experience in Turkey

Getting Scrubbed by an old Turkish Man and Experiencing the Hammam in True Turkish style

Getting myself, scrubbed and foamed and massaged by an old Turkish man in the hammam, with my guide next to me, was a somewhat embarrassing yet unforgettable experience.

Arlina and Weichean had their first taste of Turkish bath in Istanbul. I gave it a miss because of the untimely “auntie’s visit”. My final chance came when we were in Cappadocia. On the last day in Cappadonia, I decided to sign up for the Turkish bath on my own since the cave hotel had no heaters and I had yet to try the traditional Turkish bath.

After dinner, I roamed the streets in search of my Turkish bath. Most of the agencies I approached were unable to arrange the bath session as I was the only participant. I walked up and down the streets and finally managed to book my Turkish bath at Cappadocia Tours, with the help of the owner, Ertan, who was willing to bring me to an authentic Turkish bathhouse, which is about 12km away from Cappadocia, Finally, I thought and I agreed instantly.

“The massage will be done by women right?,” I asked, almost innocently. “No, by men,” he said. “Really? I was shocked, having second thoughts of going to the bathhouse.

“Come on, you are in Turkey. Think about it, the family has been doing the hammam business for many generations. Many Turkish people, women, children and men go there. Don’t worry,” Er-tan reassured me.

“What the heck, do what the Romans do, and now that I’m in Turkey, follow what the Turkish people do”, I thought to myself. “Okay”, I said, “I’ll trust you,” I confided in Ertan and he smiled and nodded, “Thank you, don’t worry, no problem.” I paid the 35 Liras, about S$50 and arranged for him to meet me at 8.15pm at the Nomads Cave Hotel.

I took a slow walk back to the Cappadocia Cave Hotel and went back to the room to get my toiletries. “Hahahaa…somebody is going to pay money to get molested again,” jested Arlina when I told her about the male masseur. “If I don’t come back in one hour, please remember that I’ve arranged for the hammam bath at the Cappadocia Tours,” these were my last words to the gals.

Ertan was 26 years old and he shared his plans to go on a six-month backpacking trip in Southeast Asia, including Thailand, Cambodia, Malaysia and Singapore end this year. I told him about my travel experiences in these countries and told him the taboos in some of these countries, what to look out for, the nice sights to see and all I knew about these places.

We soon reached the hammam. When we first entered the hammam, I was a little hesitant. There were two men, one in his late thirties and another in his sixties and a teenage boy. I was given a checked-cloth to change in, and was directed to one of the changing rooms. Once I came out of the room, the old man locked the changing room, and tied the key to my right wrist.

He brought me to another room, the main hammam room, where there was a small wooden sauna room, a big marble slab/table in the centre, and two rows of taps at the side. There were three men in the room, they took a quick glance at me and continued with their bath activities. I sat next to the taps and doused myself with hot and cold water. Ertan followed shortly. “You can also go into the sauna, just knock on the window if it’s too hot for you,” he said. There were two other teenage boys in the sauna room when I entered. The room was hot but bearable. I stayed there for about 10 minutes before I coming out to pour hot and cold water onto myself. The marble slab in the centre of the room looked very tempting, should I try and experience and lie down there with the rest of the people, or should I just skip it? I had a mental debate and decided that I should lie there just to feel how it was like. The marble floor was surprisingly warm and comfortable. I lied there for a while, counting the number of holes on the top, and breathing in the hot air in the hammam.

Soon, the thirty-something year old hammam staff beckoned me to go to the next room. It was a relatively small room, with the marble slabs on each side of the wall. One Turkish man was having himself foamed and massaged by the old Turkish man. Ertan was very nice, he stood outside the room, and reassured me that he would be waiting for me outside. Within a minute, he got sick of waiting outside, and sat next to me, watching as the man scrubbed the grim and dirt from my body. “I should have a camera here to take photographs”, he joked. “No, I will not allow it, no way,” I retorted, with some embarrassment. After about 10 minutes of scrubbing, which was not as hard as I thought it would be, I was asked to go to the next table, where the old Turkish man was waiting.

I was asked to lie facing downwards as he lathered soup onto my body. It was a hard-to-describe feeling having an old man, a complete stranger, massaging soap onto your body. I kept my eyes open at first and I was confronted with the big bulging stomach of the old Turkish man and his bushy underarms. It was strange to see face-to-face with the Turkish man, looking down at me, with his armpit hair revealed. I tried closing my eyes, but felt a sense of insecurity, thus I decided to keep my eyes open. When he was done with my back, I was asked to turn to the front. I must say that they are very professional. He only “covered” the areas that were exposed and did not attempt to touch the “out-of-bounds” areas at all, and I was thankful for that. So, I decided to close my eyes. The session was soon over and I was asked to go back to the hammam room to take a shower. I went back to the hammam room but couldn’t find the shower room. I decided to just alternate the hot and cold water from the running taps as my shower.

It was a refreshing and a different experience indeed, but I wished they had added more strength and force when they scrubbed and massaged, like the way they treated the Turkish people. Personally, I thought 35 Liras which is approximately about 50 SD dollars, is a pricey price to pay though. I went back to my guest-house, feeling cleansed and ready for a good night’s sleep. Thankfully, I did not have to “combat” the icy water in the Nomads guesthouse that night.

Cappadocia, Turkey

- Of Huge Penises, Underground City, Horse-Riding in the Valleys and My First Hammam Experience

The Nomad Cave Hotel is housed in one of the traditional “pigeon-holes”, stone formations formed by the volcanic ashes. The room is literally "carved" from these formations. It was low season and Cappadocia was relatively tranquil and quiet. The room was comfortable, but the only problem was that there was no heater in the room and no hot water in the shower.

Cappadocia was reputedly one of the best places in the world to take the hot-air balloon, but a 45-minute ride costs 125 Euro pounds, which is equivalent to 400 Singapore dollars. We decided to skip the experience and opt for horse-riding in the valleys instead.

Horse-riding through the valleys

The one-hour horse-riding session through the Rose Valley and some other valleys cost about 20 Turkish dollars and was an interesting experience. My first horse-riding experience was in Australia about seven years ago but this was a different experience. In the short one-hour ride, we’ve learnt many things about these horses.

My horse, Anika was a very lazy one, who was always in search of green pasture to graze. She didn’t mind being the last in the group, as long as she got her greens. Flowers were equally acceptable to her. Pulling the leather straps to nudge her had absolutely no impact when she was enjoying her grass as she would not budge an inch, not even a milli-inch. I've tried "counselling" Anika in English, in Singlish and "sayang" her mane, and thankfully it worked a little.

Wei Chean’s horse was very obedient to the master of the stallion and would follow him wherever he went. But the Salem-horse lookalike would go berserk at times and strike a 45-degree up-slope gallop pose when he felt like it. That was scary, even just looking at the horse perform his stunts. Thankfully, Weichean managed to maintain her balance on the horse.

Arlina’s “bat-man” horse was quite hard to manage at first, but Arlina soon found a special way to “communicate” with “bat-man” with her (ah-ah) meaning yes, and (osh-osh), meaning no. She managed to cruise through the valley with ease, through her constant ah-ahs and osh-oshs and her usual song-rattling and that amused our guide so much that when we returned to return the horses, he praised Arlina for “singing very good.”

North Tour
Goreme Open-Air Museum, Causin Old Village, Fairy Chimneys, Cappadocia Wine Factory, Penispolis Valley

“I’m going to bring you girls to see the largest penises in the world”, said Max, our guide. Max has been a guide for many years. It was our first day tour in Cappadocia and we were brought the UNESCO-known sight, Goreme, We also tasted some of the wines that were made in Cappadocia in the wine factory as part of the tour, visited the Open-Air Museum and the Fairy Chimneys and other sights.

Our guide, Max, decided to give us a steal for our money and brought us to Penispolis, where the sandstone formations looked very much like huge penises. It was a slow stroll but theview from Penispolis was quite awesome. One of the young cheeky Aussie even “posed” with his new-found “confidence-stick” as his girlfriend shook her head and smiled.

Max said, “I probably enjoy the tour more than you do,” as he showed us all the interesting stone formations in Cappadonia and shared stories about a beautiful Turkish girl who ran away on her first day of her marriage and became a hermit. Nobody knew why she ran away and she remained very much a mystery to many Turkish people.

South-Tour
Rose Valley Hiking, Underground City, Pigeon Valleys
The one and a half hour trek at the Rose Valley was a very pleasant one. We had lunch at the same venue, near the Goreme, a wonderful spread of salad, tomato soup with macaroni and pottery beef stew. The Underground City was my personal favourite. It was amazing to see how advanced the people were in the old days, to see how the secret dungeons were all internally linked to other tunnels within the city. There were special partitions for stables, for cooking, for storage of water, a well and a very good air ventilation system. Within the Underground City, there was even a church for the people to do their prayers. So how did the people “do their business”, I asked out of pure curiousity. Our guide said that there were no toilets within the Underground City and people who dispose their “waste materials” outside of the city. It would take loads and loads of civic consciousness and heavy fines to keep the Underground City clean and waste-free, if it was used in today’s society, I thought to myself.

Doors were made of concrete stone carved into circular shapes, like the “rolling” doors. Each door weighed a hefty 400 kilograms and when the enemies neared, the residents of the Underground City would just shut the stone doors to block the invasion of the intruders. According to Max, there were as many as 7000 people living in the Underground City at one period.

The engineering that went behind the creation of the Underground City was simply amazing, considering that the Underground City was constructed more than 4000 years ago,

These tunnels were only discovered by farmers in 1995 and excavated by archaeologists shortly after. It must have been a really exciting excavation for the archaeologists to discover this complete underground city. It was also during these two tours, South and North tour that we befriended 32-year-old Seiko, from Kyoto who was travelling in Turkey on her own. She was a small, petite lady, but a feisty and adventurous one. Though small in build, she has been to the United States and even India on her own last year.

Olympus, Turkey

-Of Treehouses, the Meditteranean Sea and Unexplored Ruins

Olympus is a great place for outdoor activities such as kayaking, canoeing and rock-climbing. Too bad we were there during the low season.

The two nights we spent in the Kadir’s Tree Houses were super comfy. The mattresses were very good and the comforter ultra plush. We had the choice to sleep in a shared dormitory treehouse, or a bungalow next to the treehouse with attached bathroom. Having travelled for many hours, we opted for comfort over the authentic treehouse.

We decided to just chill out and relax in Olympus since the Mediterranean sea and explore the ruins were just a few kilometres down the road.

The next morning, we strolled to the Mediterranean Sea and the sea view was awesome. Wei Chean and I climbed to the top of a cliff and were rewarded with a breathtaking view of the Mediteranean sea. We left Arlina mid-way as her height-phobia prevented her from climbing further.

Many tourists were happily relaxing and sun-tanning themselves along the coast. Wei Chean and I were busy admiring the interestingly-shaped pebbles. I chose some really pretty stones, as a little gift for my supervisor, Lena who had graciously approved my one-month leave and covered my duties during my absence.

The Meditterranean sea was breathtakingly stunning, we picked stones, played in the clear blue water and explored the nearby ruins which reveal the civilizations way before our times.

There, we met a shopowner who had retired from Tirestone after working there for 25 years and decided opened a little shop selling his specially made jewelleries and his wife's clay items. The shop was a simple shack, with bamboo curtains, basic but nice. He could speak simple English. One of the necklaces caught my eye, it was a slice of dried lemon, with some luminous colouring. I hesitated, thinking I could buy it the next day if I really wanted it. Too bad, I've "missed the boat" though. I went to his shop which was just around the corner three times the next day to be greeted by closed curtains.

We also met a Malaysian gal and her Australian husband who had just been to Cappadocia. They had taken the hot-air balloon in Cappadocia and said that though it was expensive, it was worth the money. I was more interested in parasailing or paragliding but it was equally expensive. We decided that we would find other more economical ways of entertaining ourselves.

Lazing around at Kadir’s Tree Houses was equally enjoyable. Hearing the knocking and drilling sounds, the happy whistling of the workers, while sipping tea amidst the Persian cushions and carpets in the wooden shed is blissful.

Turkey, Istanbul- Kite-flying with Chisen and Dad

Kite-Flying at Istabul- The bond between a doting father and his sweet daughter
Nobody would have planned this into the itinerary, but I had my first experience of flying a kite in Istanbul by chance. We got tired of the touristy Grand Bazaar and decided to take a slow stroll along the waterfront in the morning.

It was very tranquil and nice just enjoying the sea breeze and taking a relaxed walk away from the tourists. I spotted two persons sitting amongst the rocks. The father beckoned me to go over and join him and his daughter who were flying a kite. Without hesitation, I hopped across the rocky stones to where they were seated, and took over the string and the kite. Watching the little green kite soar in the air, I tried to make small talk to the father and daughter duo who couldn’t speak English.

Wei Chean and Arlina soon joined me in the “charade” game again. We managed to get their names, Osman (the father) and Lisen (the daughter). Lisen was a friendly yet shy little girl. When I tried to speak to her in English, she smiled and said in an almost adult manner, “Turkish yes, English no.” And when she spoke to me in Turkish, I said, “English, yes, Turkish no.” Though language was a barrier, her shyness soon eased off. As we were walking along the waterfront, little Lisen was so sweet, she plucked a little flower and placed it on my ear.

I was trying to tell him that eating in Istanbul was expensive through simple English and hand gestures. He might have understood, and walked us to the well-known fish market where there are numerous fish restaurants. We were quite broke and did not want to go to any expensive restaurants for lunch. In the end, we suggested having lunch at a roadside kebab stall which costed less than 5 dollars per person. The lunch was not a luxurious one, but a very heartwarming one. Through the little gestures of the father and little Lisen, we could feel the strong bond and love between them.

After lunch, we continued to walk further to one of the must-see attraction in Istanbul and Lisen continued her kite-flying attempts with her dad at the big square just outside the university building. Osman is a single parent. Two of Osman’s friends came to meet us and drove us to another popular sight to see famous tombs. They even offered to send us back but we turned down their kind offer and told them that could make our way to the guest-house ourselves. We bade farewell and promised that we would email the photographs to them.

Though we did not see any important sights or attraction, the few hours with Lisen and her father was very well-spent and memorable. From complete strangers to acquaintances, we were glad that we made friends with little Chisen and her dad, and of course, the little green kite.

Turkey (Istanbul, Olympus, Cappadonia)

Of tulips, sandstones sights, tulip cups, apple tea and one cool chick!

Coming from Iran into Turkey, we suffered from a slight cultural shock on the first
day when we arrived at the airport, like country bumpkins on a virgin trip to the modern city. Everything seemed so advanced and modern in Istanbul compared to the inward-looking Iran.

Women without their headscarves, big signboards shouting international brands and rows and rows of beautiful tulips lined the streets in Istanbul. These were some of the common sights in Istanbul, but sights that you can never see in Iran.

In Iran, most women are either completely clothed in the chadors (a black cloth that covers them from head to toes), or at least their heads would be covered with black scarves. . At the airport toilet, we saw some sexy Iranian women letting their hair down, literally, and boy, they look gorgeous. Having “tudungfied” ourselves for the last two weeks in Iran, it was exhilarating to know that we did not have to “take cover” behind the scarves in modern Turkey.


One Cool Chick- Lilian Moro, 38 years old biker on a 3-year bike expedition around the world

We met the coolest babe, a 38-year-old biker from Switzerland at the Orient Hostel. She is a window display decorator and had quit her job for this trip. She has been travelling to many parts of the world, including China, India, Middle East and many many little-known places on her bike over the years.

She was on her three-year bike expedition around the world, starting from Turkey. She had saved for about 5 years for this trip, working part-time and saving all the money and was waiting for her 62-year-old dad, who was on his way from Switzerland to be the pillion rider on her bike for a month. It was amazing to hear about all the arrangements and planning she had to do, getting horse carriages in Pakistan to carry her bike from the border to another part, having to dismantle her bike into different parts to clear the custom, and assembling them back.

Lilian had heaps of interesting stories to tell and is a really nice and down-to-earth gal. Her infectious laughter, which often ends with a snort is very endearing. We liked her the moment we met and chatted with her for a while and I think she enjoyed our company too. We chatted for hours about the toilets in China, the men in Iran, the headless chicken she axed which still managed to run quite a far distance and many others.

She also related one incident when she caught her mom dancing in a frenzy manner in the middle of a field in India, to protect herself from the vultures which were looming above her head to show that she was still alive. She also worked as a diver’s guide and told us about how one of the people she brought into the ocean missed the wonderful view of the shark which was within was 2-metres from him when he was distracted by Lilian’s action of taking out her survival. knife.

We've met many interesting characters in Turkey.

Mr "Of Course"
Mr "Of Course", a Kurdistan restaurant owner who could speak Mandarin as he used to have a Taiwanese wife. He's 38 years old and has a family business. Besides the restaurant, the family also have a hotel that is within walking distance. Mr "Of Course" caught my attention as he spoke fluent Mandarin. I was roaming along the streets while waiting for Arlina and Weichean who had gone for their "virgin" Turkish bath and massage.

Mr "Of Course" has very outstanding features and his restaurant had a good spread of Turkish dishes which was very tantalizing. After Weichean and Arlina's massage, we went to his resturant for dinner.

Mr "Of Course" came over to our table to chat with us and we invited him to join us. He had worked in Singapore for many years as a chef in Hilton Hotel. Mr "Of Course" had very strong opinions of everything, some not so politically correct, but nonetheless, entertaining. We were like little girls asking for his comments about people for entertainment sake.

"Turkish women- very lazy.
How about Malay people?, we quipped.
"Malay people, always Al sal malai come, but they don't buy or eat. They always cook and eat at home."
"Iran people, they know nothing about Muslim faith. Believe me.no good."
"How about Kurdistan people?" We told him about the cute Kurdistan baby and the handsome children we met in Tehran. Kurdistan people very good-looking.
"Of course, he said." "Our bodies are perfect," he added, as a matter-of-factly.
Mr Of Course told us stories about his little rendezvous fling at the airport and the gay attempts he encountered. "Me talk, "don't disturb, go away. I looking girl".
Fidelity somehow seems to be non-existent in Middle East. Often, we hear stories from the Iranian men about their "girlfriends", that it's good to have more girlfriends.

"Gonzales" Father
Gonzales is the name of the popular Garfield in Istabul. I can't recall the name of the owner now, but he owned a little shop that sells trinkets and clothing in Istabul. He was very friendly and spoke good English, and best of all, not "cheekopeh". We chatted for a while and found him to be very comical and animated.

Though I'm a cat-phobic, I can't help but feel bemused by his love for his pet through the numerous stories he shared about his cat. Asked how he got Gonzales, he grinned cheekily and said that he had actually "stolen" Gonzales from his neighbour as he found Gonzales very cute. His neighbour had even asked him whether he had seen the lost kitten but he feigned ignorance. His neighbour soon found out and took Baby Gonzales back, but Gonzales would always come running back to his shop. Every time his neighhour brought him back to his shop, Gonzales would be back in the "cat thief"'s shop in no time.

"Gonzales is now very old and lazy, nobody wants him," he told us about his "son" affectionately> He told us how he accidentally "burnt" Gonzales when he tried to give him a shower. Cats normally howl when they are forced to shower,as they don't like water. He thought that the howl that Gonzales made was "normal", only to realise that Gonzales was howling because of temperature of the water. There were many stories about his beloved cat that he shared with us, from how he had to rush him to the doctor for his injured paw, how Gonzales had many girlfriends in the neighbourhood,to the "cat party" with many jumping cats in his shop on an evening that he chanced upon, and Gonzales' first girlfren which died when she was pregnant amongst others.

Gonzales' dad is currently studying in University and laughed when he told us that he had spent almost 8 years in university as he kept failing. He wanted to come to Singapore to study,but lamented that Singapore only wants the very intelligent students and he only had Ds and Cs to flaunt. His "niceness" and warmth was very easily felt and we were completely at ease with him. He also had some vintage dresses and tops, some of which were altered by his sister. Wei Chean ended up buying one of the ethnic tops from his shop at about S$50.


Ocean Seven Restaurant
We had intitally thought that Ocean Seven was a pun on Ocean Eleven, but it turned out otherwise. Ocean Seven, interestingly, is owned by seven brothers, whom all sported long hair. According to the youngest of the seven, his mom loved them having long hair as she had no daughters and made all the boys grow long hair so that she can comb and tie their hair for them. Eating in Istanbul was heavenly compared to Iran. Their dishes at Ocean Seven were very delicious and we had a very enjoyable meal there.

Singapore Passport - Tak Boleh! Getting Stuck at the Border Between Turkey and Syria

I know how it feels to be in detention- it’s ultra-boring, and worse, when you do not know when you will released. I had my first taste of this at the border between Turkey and Syria.

We arrived at the border station at 12 noon, with our heavy backpacks, and our specially taken “tudung-covered” photographs, ready to cross overland from Turkey and Syria, for our final leg of our trip.

It was indicated in the Lonely Planet that for countries which do not have a Syrian embassy, the visa can be made at the border. Alternatively, the visa can be made in Istabul at the Syrian embassy but it was closed during the weekend when we were in Turkey.

We were asked to go into the office to meet the officer-in-charge. He understood little English, but there were a few staff who could speak some English.
“Which country you from?,” asked one of the border officer.
“Sing-gar-pool”, we replied. He scoured through his list of countries in Arabic language, and frowned.
Sing-gar-pool”, he repeated. Maybe it was the wrong pronounciation. We tried again, “Singa-fura”. Still, he frowned. More officers came into the room, and others curiously peered into the office. We were once again, surrounded by the group of men strangers, but this time round, in a completely different setting.

One of the officers explained that they would send our details to the capital, Damascus and would need to get a reply fax from them before they can approve our visa. “So how long, do we have to wait here? One hour, two hours?”, we asked. “Maybe, by 11pm, maybe tomorrow, maybe maybe, it depends,” replied the officer as a matter-of-factly. We were told to check with the office every hour on the status of our fax.

Wei Chean managed to get her visa with her Malaysian passport within the two hours of waiting. Malaysia is a Muslim country and Mahadir had visited Syrian about three years ago. I think it’s high time we alert Ministry of Foreign Affairs and Minister George Yeo to go shake hands with the Syrian government.

”It would probably take a few hours, at most,” I thought to myself. During the first three hours of waiting, Wei Chean, Arlina and myself were still joking with one another, went shopping at the duty-free shop and chatted with curious drivers from Kuwait and guides from Turkey who were waiting for their tour groups.

By 3pm, the experience was not funny or refreshing anymore. It was very boring and frustrating waiting and not knowing how long more to wait. Everything was not within our control and the Singaporean passport, for once, is more a hindrance than an aid. We wished we had the Malaysia passport.

We told Weichean to make her own way to Aleppo and find a guest-house to stay and rest first. I sent Weichean off the station and bade farewell to her. “So sad, bye bye,” she pouted her lips and left.

It was a torturous and endless wait and Arlina and I were tired of entertaining ourselves. There were no internet cafes anyway in sight, no beautiful sights to see and no strangers to befriend as the night darkened. Our numerous attempts to check on the status of our return fax from Damascus remained futile. We could not even return to Turkey as the passports were kept with the custom officers.

“There is no system here. It is normal to wait. Some people wait for about two days,” said the Customer Service officer, one of the rare Syrians who could speak English fluently.

“Waiting for hours and hours for the fax,” that was scribbled on the counter at the border, probably by a foreigner visitor to Syria. My sentiments exactly I’ve walked through the border station, from left to right, front to back, listen to all the songs in my MP-three player and was still waiting. Arlina and I started talking and dreaming about going to Greece or Cyprus if we couldn’t get our visa into Syria. The mouse-eating scrubby-looking cat made frequent checks on us, and for a cat-phobic like me, it wasn’t welcomed at all.

It was around 7pm and there was still no good news. Arlina and I decided to have dinner first at the restaurant just across the road, before coming back to the station to wait again. We were the only women in the restaurant, as usual. There are several customers and workers in the restaurant. The dinner was US$4 per person, but it was a surprisingly sumptuous spread and a very pleasant surprise instead. My set-dinner came complete with freshly baked nan (bread), a bowl of piping hot beef stew, with potatoes and carrots, rice with two pieces of tender, succulent chicken pieces. Arlina’s chicken kebab set came with 5 pieces of juicy chicken parts and a bowl of fresh salad. We were happily enjoying our meals and took the chance to charge of handphones and MP3 player.

Suddenly, a Russian man walked over. His body was retching with the smell of alcohol and he wanted to invite us to his table for some drinks. We kindly rejected his offer saying it was alright as we had our own water. 15 minutes later, he made eye contact with Arlina and tried to persuade us to move to his table. We smiled and said no as we carried our backpacks and made our way back to the border station to check on our visa status.

“Aren’t they tired of seeing us, the two gals from morning to night? We must pretend to be very pathetic and cough aloud to attract their attention,” I told Arlina, and quickly started coughing louder than it was necessary as a border officer looked up. We were so bored, we started exercising and prancing around the station and used our teeth to shape the continents of the world using the nan (bread).

At 9pm, we went to the office to check on the fax again. On the way in, we met an English guide from Syria, “How are you ladies?” “Not good”, I said. “But why?, asked the guide. I told him the problem with our visa and the number of hours we’ve spent waiting at the border. He said that the station officer was a good friend of his and he can help check for us. He said that sometimes it helps if we can give for instance 5 US dollars per person to hasten the procedures as it was ridiculous to wait for so many hours.

I told Arlina that since the officers had said that they would give us a final confirmation by 11pm, I’m not willing to part with my 5 US dollars for bribery. It’s a matter of principle. If we had known that we can skip these usual procedures through bribery earlier, we would gladly oblige, but not after more than 9 hours of waiting. I would rather wait for another two more hours to see the outcome through the proper channel.

Besides our hourly checks at the officer, we had “sent” many additional representatives into the office to try and intervene. These are English guides, drivers, customers who could speak English and have approached us to chat. Maybe that had irritated the officers a little.

Finally, at 12 mid-night, we saw the light at the end of the tunnel. The border officer asked us to change US $34 for our visa and get the stamps from another station. A taxi-driver appeared from nowhere, at the counter, and said, “Syria, Aleppo?”, we said yes, and asked him how much it would cost,
US 10 dollars per person he said. That was the standard rate and we quickly said yes. Within 10 minutes, we received the visa and the pink form and made our way to Aleppo in the taxi.

It was a very interesting experience at the border station. Though it was 12 hours of our youth wasted, we had received much hospitality, well-wishes and free ride offers from complete strangers. Two Syrian drivers, with their limited English, offered to drive us to Aleppo for free, guides gave us their contact numbers to us, and told us to contact them if we encounter any problems in Syria. One Turkish driver even offered us a free ride back to Turkey.

My advice to all travellers- get your visa in Istabul, it will save you a lot of hassle at the border!