Believe me I know and thanks, some were minor "eruptions" I do know and have extra salts available, have taken some already, Plus about 5 or 6 litres of water.
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Believe me I know and thanks, some were minor "eruptions" I do know and have extra salts available, have taken some already, Plus about 5 or 6 litres of water.
and some great storytelling there - keep it up AO!
Yes, this is a great thread! I've been following it all the way through.
So Ao how many languages do you speak fluently then ?
I think we can safely count out English.
If I cant speak english I guess I am mute!! A fair bit of Thai, some Arabic, and some Indonesian. The Indonesian is 99% gone, but think it could come back pretty quick.
Ka Ka Ka Ka Kathmandu!!! As Bob Seeger said!!
The old TG DC8 jet came throught the clouds to reveal the Himalayas and the little city of Kathmandu below us. After finally clearing customs we were off to my friends house in Bodnath. Ted Wooster was an old friend from my free wheeling days in Uni, he had gone to the University of Wisconsin at Madison, but left after two years to tour the world and had now been in Katmandu for 4 years.
I had some Kyat left over when I left Burma but they would not give me dollars only "goods" so I had two bottles of Stoly to give my buddy. As we got nearer to Bodnath just outside of Kathmandu I could see the large stupa of the Tibetan temple there, and the prayer flags were a flapping in the wind. The airport taxi pulled up in front of a decrepid palatial sized compound behind walls next to the stupa.
Yup it was Woosters house, or ex palace. It was every hippies dream, soft rugs on the floor, water pipes in everyroom, incense burning along with tolas and tolas of hash.
No he was not manufacturing carpets as I had been told but was actually in the high grade hashish exporting business. Where was he? Coming soon I was told. A loud bang, and an old Russian motorcycle pulled up. There he was changed yes but it was still Ted.
Now 50 pounds heavier, and sporting a chest long red beard to go with the red hair. My 6 foot 4 buddy did stand out amongst the Tibetans, and Nepalese.
We proceded to drink the bottle and smoke god knows how much hash. Damn hungry we were and I needed to find a place for my other two friends to stay. So soon Steve, Nigel, myself, and Ted were off for Thamil the tourist area of Katmandu. Food was the first things we needed. I really wondered if Nepalese food could kill the case of munchies that I had.
Menus were brought out. I had died and gone to heaven. Apple pie, chocolate cake, cheesecakes of every type, chocolate chip cookies. Damn the Nepalese are smart about farungs and wanting sweets when the get the munchies.
Two hours and two kilos of food later we got over to the Katmandu GH and got Nigel and Steve checked in. Then down to the river to see what we could see.
Steve and Nigel were throwing stones at a log seeing who could hit it the hardest, soon the log came closer to shore. Nope not log but a dead body floating in the river. Steve lost his lunch at the site of the fellers bloated body, and Nigel and I were about to follow, but we quickly got the hell outa there. Kathmandu had already blown Steven's mind, and he would never be the same. He now lives in Hong Kong and owns Plum Blossoms Gallery one of the larger Tibetan Antique galleries in the world.
But back out to Teds for me, for a great dinner and an all night session discussing what we had been doing for the last 4 years.
Tomorrow would be a very new day.
Hey AO ... I thought I had good stories my buddies back home don't believe. You're about the age of some of the older fellas I hung out with as a teenager and they thought they were big shots with their weak homegrown herb. Guys who never left their county much less the state of Ohio. One of the towns I lived in was called Wooster by the way.
Its the life I have led SK, Pretty fcuking normal these days though. Had my feet in cement the last 8 years taking care of kids. The wife has been to 12 countries since the kids were born. Me only to the states and back.
Your herb stories sure do bring back now ancient memories. As well as get me excited about the future. Cheers dawg.
Pokhara, ""My Tree"", Stoney the fly, and Giardia, will be the next installment.
Time to leave for Pokhara, went to the depot and saw the """Swiss"" bus, thing was an old Benz from over 40 years ago but still running. It even had a roll back roof. Slowy and loudly we climbed up to Pokhara, going around turn after switchback turn. Several stops to remove boulders from the road and smoke a few chillums of the kind.
Arrived about 4pm and had found an okay guest house by 5. Went out looking for food like Katmandu, but in 1978 it was not to be found. So it was dal and rice the first night.
The goal was to take a trek of about 7 days and get as up close and personal to Mt. Annapurna as I could. So spent the next day pricing treks and getting to know a little bit about the whole trekking seen.Met a nice kid named Shinji at one of the joints and he wanted to help. He was 16 and born and raised right there in Pokhara, he said he knew where to get Western food so I said I would treat him.. Sure enough he knew of a hotel serving fondue. Where the hell they got the cheese and bread I never did find out but it was damn good and Shinji had a great time.
The next morning I met him again as I signed up for my 7 day 6 night trek. At lunch he asked if I wanted to go to his house and see his "tree" now I didnt have a clue what he was on about, but when we went in the back yard there it was in all its glory. 2 meters high and about 5 around it looked like a green and red hedge. And it was cannabis indica at its best. The day was warm and the resins were showing in all their glory. Shinji, this is one hell of a tree I was thinking.
""Its 3 years old he said"" ""Huh"" I replied grass only grows for one season I was thinking. But oh no he trimmed that little beauty back to nothing but nubs in the winter and it would come out again come spring. "What do you do with this make hash""? I enquired, ""No I just sell the flowers to help my family"". Yipee I didnt care if I was going trekking, going back to Katmandu, or going on to Sumatra in a couple of weeks. I had to have some of that.
How much. the equivalent of 3 dollars for a tola, quite expensive. But I took 10 or almost 120 grams. Thanks Shinji I shall see you tomorrow said I not thinking of good by, but hello to one killer buzz.
Ran back to my GH and locked the door, took out a bud and tried to break it up. Its was so sticky that it caused my fingers to stick together, so I got out the swiss A and cut that baby up. Tried to roll it neat as Americans do, but it wouldnt burn. so for the first time in my life I bought a pack of smokes and rolled again.
The first toke hit my lungs like an atom bomb and I started coughing, I was sure bits of lung were gonna come up. Sat there for a moment thinking about life. The next thing I knew my Aussie buddy was knocking on the door. "You've been back an hour and a half he yelled"" ""Come on out"" Damn it was the stone of my life and it was one hit!!!.
Out for a Nepalese buffet that night so stoned I didnt care what I ate, and I damn well should have, as I was leaving at 7am on my trek tommorrow morning.
AO you are an interviewers dream. Great stuff mate, please continue with your week long trek.
Can we hi-jack this thread and ask Aging One more up to date questions...kind of like jump forward and back in time sort of thing?
Getting ready to, but it didnt last the week. Giardia got me only 3 days in, but its coming, that story is coming later today.
And Memock thanks again for encouraging me to do this. I am having fun recalling things that were so fun in a past that seem today to be very far away indeed.
No worries AO, it really is my pleasue, so far a great rollocking yarn and it will only get better.
CE - I would rather you didnt otherwise things will get all out of wack. Patience is a virtue :)
Okay 8am and time to start walking. I have my water purification tablets, my day pack and my stash I am ready to walk. Thank god we had porters as a 30 kilo pack was something I didnt want to carry. The first hours are just walking through fields and an occasional stream, we werent really climbing yet. Stopped for the night at an Inn just before we would start up.
Rahshi? Nepalese rice wine, which is not a wine at all but a grain spirit. You check if its strong enough by throwing it on the fire, if it ignites its good shit. Well it was good shit when mixed with "tree" drank a lot as I dont remember getting in my sleeping bag that night. I do remember waking up with cotton mouth, and drinking a shit load of water.
Finally we started up a bit, it was easy walking as we began to pass the beautiful terraced rice fields. We stopped for a lunch of dal and rice and were soon on the trail again as we had 8 more K until the nights stop.
"Damn I need to fart" this was a strong feeling, Oh what the hell let her fly nobody will hear it as we truck along. So squeeze on off. Oh shit and I do mean oh shit, down both legs of my jeans. That sure as hell wasn't a fart it was liquid shit. What the hell to do now?? First thing was get behind a tree and survey the damage to my jeans and to me. It was bad, lets just say somewhere on the trail there is a pair of 32-32 Levis to this day cause nobody would want those. I did have another pair and got them on and continued to the next Inn, stomach gurgling all the way.
Oh oh!! What water had I drunk the night before?? It wasnt mine and it was having a detrimental effect. The next day I got up and felt okay so I had a cup of tea, which exited within 1 minute of ingestion. But still I thought get some bread and soak it up and you can keep going. Ate the bread and two charcoal tablets and felt well enough to walk. By noon and many shit stops later I knew things were not going well and there sure as well was not going to be any of moms chicken soup at the next stop.
Couldnt eat that night and was worse with some vomiting at night. Sadly my trek was over and I would slowly with the help of the porter walk back in only one night to Pokhara. ""one foot in front of the other was my mantra for the whole walk. It was like a bad dream, so weak I couldnt even carry the day pack. About 3 hours out of Pokhara I met Max from Brisbane, he too was ill and trying to get back. We decided to split the cost of a nicer room in an attempt to get better.
The one thing we knew is that we needed beds, and herbal medicine. And this is the lead in to our friend and pet Stoney the fly, our close companion over the last 2 days of our stay in Pokhara.
I am so glad I have never had the runs quite that bad. I had heard stories of people in India tucking their jeans into there socks to prevent it from leaking but climbing up a mountain, too funny :)
Introuducing....stoney the fly....
Any form of cannabis is known to help a bad stomach, so Max and I hoped it would plug our butts as well. We began our medical regimine that very night as we got in. Soon we noticed a damn big fly that would come from the other side of the room as soon as we fired one up. Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz here he would come flying through the clouds of exhale like Atom Ant, but he was ""Stoney the Fly"" Little guy had a bigger brain than my wifes poodle.
When we were sleeping he would sleep, never even trying to land on one of us. But when we got up and fired one up there was Stoney, doing acrobatic loops much to our stoned delight. Barrell rolls, and dives to pick up bits of the food we had scattered about the room. I guess flies get the munchies too.
Well we werent getting anybetter by the 2nd night back, and went back to the hotel Shinji had taken us to for soup and bread. It stayed down for almost 12 hours and then boom Max and I had a fist fight for who got the shitter first.
The last few hours before going back to Kathmandu were spent trying to make a leash for Stoney so we could take him back with us. Alas Max put on the leash a little too tight and stoney went to where ever flies go when its their time. We felt good that his last 3 days on earth had been his best.
The ride back, the doctor, the medicine and the Marine Bar to follow before we get back to Bangers, and are off for Penang Malaysia and Banda Aceh Sumatra.
Stoney the fly R.I.P
Fisticuffs over who gets to use the toilet first really goes to show how bad you were!
AO what year was all this happening?
Well I guess this sees this interview changing countries once again. Please tell us about Malaysia and Banda Aceh. Now I, like many other I am assuming would never have heard of Bana Aceh until Dec 26, 2004, How did you hear about the place and what was it like?
This trip was either 77 or 78. I knew of Banda Aceh for having some of the best herb known to man. Some did make it all the way to California.
I was still in nappies then!
So is it fair to say that this trip was really planned around finding the best dope to smoke?
That and beaches and food!!! Phuket which I thought was Fucket is coming as well. Patong with only one 3 story hotel and perhaps 10 sets of bungalows and one dirt road.
Well we were off from Hualompong station for Butterworth and Penang. 2nd class non air seats, but who cared we had Mekhong. After enjoying the meal and drinks we retired for the night and woke up in Padang Basar for clearing customs. Onto the train again and at about 3 we got into Butterworth, jumped on the ferry which was very much like the Hong Kong ferry and in 20 minutes we were in Georgetown. Friends had said to stay at the New China, but it was awfull so we went across the street to the Cathay Hotel.
We were here to find the "bullets" Aceh herb wrapped in paper so it looked like a large bullet. About 2 or 3 grams each. That wasnt hard at all, as at that time Malaysia was much more open. "Bullets, smack" was the sound coming out of every rickshaw drivers mouth. The thought of smack made me want to kill the driver as I hate the thought of HARD drugs.
Enjoyed Penang for a few days eating the Malay specialties but really getting into the delicious Indian cuisine. We visited the Thai temple and took the furnicular railway to the top of Penang hill as well. But we booked out for Medan on the 4th day. MAS has a short 40 minute flight and soon we were in Medan Sumatra.
Damn what had I done, Medan was hot, busy, and butt ugly. "We want to go to Banda Aceh" the travel agent looked like we had said the moon.
"You dont want to go there, many problems" "Can we go"? we asked, "Yes you can but why, there is nothing there"? "We want to go surfing on Nias Island." Well back then Nias had just emerged on the Lonely Planet travel scene, so finally we found a travel agent who could book a van to take us to Sibolga where we could get the boat out to Nias.
I guess I am too soft of a traveller as 15 hours in a rat shit rattle trap van with lousy food and very infrequent stops was beginning to make me think why I had done this. But finally we got to Sibolga and found a little hotel and collapsed into a 20 hour sleep.
When we awoke we were famished but could not identify one thing we knew as food. Finally found some satay and made do. How to get to Nias as its about 125 miles off the coast. They had a Pelni ship going that night and it was then a 20 to 24 hour journey out.
The ship was hell, very overcrowded with all the berths and seats sold we had to go hard class and just sit on the deck. A lot of people were seasick and they place stank to high heaven as there were not enough bathrooms. After what seemed like a week we arrived. The beach was beautiful but the waves were just okay this was march and we had neglected to check the season being rookies at travelling we found out june to october has the best waves. But experts we were not and we had soon rented both bungalows and boards and were doing our best to be "cool surfer dudes". They should have called them Bongalows as each came with a bong, and you could order herb off the menu at the restaurant. Happiness is a day spent surfing and a night looking at the stars and passin around a huge bong.
The week passed quickly and it was time for the hard part getting from Sibolga to Banda!! Its wasnt going to be easy, would it be worth it??
After a long night of fun with the surfer dudes, who were 99% Australian we had a big decison. We were in Aceh, we had found the herb we were looking for and realized we were spoiled Americans and really didnt look forward to another 24 hours minimum by van to Banda.
So over a nice breakfast of Nasi Campur, which is rice topped with whatever is left over we started to discuss what to do. Option 1. The original plan get to Banda Aceh, or 2. Get back to Medan and then to Thailand and to Phuket which we were still pronouncing with an F.
Did we accomplish our goal in finding massive buds instead of little rolled bullets? What was the purpose in going to a city? Were we weaklings who couldnt make another super arduous journey? The conclusion was dont go on to Banda Aceh, if we did find more good herb, what was the point we sure as hell werent going to bring it back to Thailand. We had more than we needed or wanted now.
One more day on the beach was the decision and then back to Medan, and Penang, and finally the new frontier Phuket Island Thailand.
Yes I was sad I had given up! But what was the point? Going 24 hours out of the way to see a Muslim city where we would be the only tourists. Then we would be a two day ride back to Medan, with a stop god knows where. The idea of a holiday is fun and adventure not torture. So we enjoyed the last day and night in Aceh Province and really didnt feel that sad we hadnt made it to the capital city. For we had accomplished what we had come for and more.