this is my earliest memory – slumbering cradled under the hull of the little “sunflower” to the lullaby of the sea. cool water and hot sun-sparkles in my eyes. sand in my sandwich. the insistent caw of circling gulls. the loughing sail against the sky.

and so the pull of the ocean is impossible to ignore, luring me with its siren call. as we meander along endless coastline, the blinding beauty of sea and shore is overwhelming, heartstopping.

the infinite expanses of blue feel like the edge of the world. the murmur and crash of licking crests is hypnotic in perfect rhythm. time slips by seamlessly watching whales breach just offshore, launching themselves airborne for the sheer joy. a salted breeze musses my hair playfully. dancing sands whorl beneath azure pools warmed lightly under a winter sun.

where else would i ever want to be? i am a beach baby, at heart.

so we’re south of the equator for the next few months, and aside from the anti-clockwise drains and inverted seasons, there’s something about being “down under” that lends itself to a more relaxed vibe, a more laidback and open feeling. people being nice for the sake of being nice. maybe it’s harder to be in a bad mood when you’re near all these beautiful beaches.

as i suspected before i even set foot in oz, i could easily grow to love this country, this city. it puts me in mind of some of my other favourite cities – with it’s palm trees, seashore, cleanliness, spaciousness, and mix of old and new, it reminds me a little bit of san diego, toronto, and even boston if you squint hard.

and there’s something about aussies (god help me, but i *cannot* bring myself to say “oz-zies” because, dammit, there’s no zed in that word!) that’s just more familiar to me than other nationalities. they may drive on the left and (gah!) even play cricket, but there’s a certain scrappy go-getter mentality, an eager enthusiasm, and a pull-yourself-up-by-your-bootstraps ethic, which seems more akin to north america than the u.k. I’m wildly overgeneralising here, of course, but perhaps it’s the youthfulness as a country, or coming from pioneer stock which generates a feeling of commonality. i can’t quite pinpoint what it is, but it’s definitely there.

and if it weren’t so damn far away from everyone i love, i could easily see myself living here.

so sydney is a welcomely warm city – even if it’s chilly as hell out. we’ve hired a car to head up the coast for a few days and try to catch up with some friends, so if we don’t update for a few, it’s coz’ we’re at the pub

(and since rugby’s tri-nations tournament is getting underway and the south africa v. australia matchup is on saturday… go springboks!)

more photos here

34C in singapore… to 14C in sydney.

goodbye flip flops, hello fleecy jumpers. *that’s* culture shock.

so in speaking with singaporeans, they are justifiably proud of their city/state/nation. it’s a multicultural, 21st century city which is safe as houses, pristine, successful. singaporeans are multilingual, well-educated, and tolerant people. many singaporeans are also incredibly grateful to the british. for when they pulled out of singapore in 71, they left behind a strong infrastructure and booming international economy. singaporeans know only too well what could have become of their beloved city – they’ve seen what happened in much of the rest of post-colonial southeast asia. laos, vietnam, cambodia are all prime examples of the shambles that were left behind like so much rubbish. they know they’re lucky. they love where they live and they love their lifestyles. so if i sounded a bit derisory about singapore being “soulless” in my previous post… well, i stand corrected. they know all too well what the alternative might have been – and that gives them a unique appreciation for their standard of living that few of us can understand. and that speaks straight to the heart.

personally, i would kill for their public metro. i recently read that per kilometre, taking the tube is more expensive than flying – something i can all too readily believe. and yet for not even half the price, you can ride the gleaming, quiet, efficient, and modern SMRT.

so where the hell did the brits get it wrong?

so we’re here in singapore. a lovely, sparkling city. full of shopping. and restaurants. in fact, the whole city is pretty much like a gigantic outdoor shopping mall. nothing particularly wrong with that. we’re staying in the “little india” section of the city, which is basically like being back at home in tooting, london. except pristine and quiet and safe. nothing wrong with that.

there are lots of banks. and “body shop” stores. and “starbucks”. (which i usually call “four bucks”, except here it’s more like “eleven bucks”. even in singaporean dollars, that’s friggin’ expensive.) there are lots of tall buildings. there is a beautiful metro system. there are nice comfy cinemas – we saw “thank you for smoking”, (which i highly recommend, especially because i adore william h. macy). everyone speaks perfect english. customer service is a dream. even chinatown is squeaky clean. nothing wrong with any of that.

i can get my favourite american deodorant. there’s hot water in the shower. my feet are not blackened at the end of the day, and my face is not grimy with dirt/dust/soot. there is air-conditioning and clean public toilets in abundance. i can get a high speed internet connection – amazing.

nothing wrong with any of that.

it’s all a very welcome respite from the hectic, slap-dash, bare-bones, gritty existence we’ve experienced the past 6 weeks. in fact, i can hardly believe that just three days ago i was tromping through mud with my pack crossing jerry-rigged wood planks over a major bridge which had given up the ghost in the rains, only to have the bus require an impromptu clutch replacement, followed by spending a final 5 hours of the most cramped and spine-jarring ride i’ve ever experienced. it’s like being on a different planet.

so why does it feel like there’s something missing?

we leave for singapore tomorrow, signifying the end of the south east asia phase of our journey, and the halfway mark of our trip.

not really sure how to characterise my feelings at this point. i will miss these countries terribly. they’re on the cusp of becoming something truly unique and vital. while on the one hand i wish everyone could get to experience the customs and cultures of this corner of the world, i also worry for the preservation of them. places like cambodia which are on the edge of a tourism boom – yet not perhaps strong enough just yet to withstand the impact that accompanies it. and places like vietnam and laos – which are so close to shaking off the economic fetters of socialism that hold them back from the larger stage, yet not stable enough to avoid leaving so many behind in the wave of capitalism (such as has happened in russia).

things are changing so quickly, it makes your head spin.

so i would say i am anxious. and hopeful.

and grateful.

just a quick note to let you know the photos of our angkor thom are here (biked 26 km around the surrounding ruins – a lovely, if sweaty, way to see them).

and the photos of sihanoukville and the botched bokor trip are here.

i’m really not a huge stickler when it comes to hygiene. really, i’m not. all i ask from any hostel or guesthouse is clean sheets and running water. everything else is a bonus.

so why do i insist on torturing myself by inspecting the pillowcases for strange hairs before climbing into bed?

more importantly: why is it so bloody hard for people to change the friggin’ sheets?!?

dis. gust. ing.

if the smell of china was sewage, then the smell of south east asia is burning rubbish. blech.

i’ll admit it – i was nervous.

because after years of dreaming about seeing angkor wat, i was afraid that it was bound to somehow disappoint. i was worried it would be too touristy, too hyped. i desperately wanted it to be so special – but like a chocolate kept too long, sometimes these things go stale. not everything can live up to one’s dreams.

j had to talk me into going – it was already afternoon on our first day in siem reap, and clouds were threatening overhead.

but in the end it was probably the best thing tha could have happened. unbelievably enough, we had the place nearly to ourselves. it *did* rain – but that only made it more atmospheric. we spent hours wandering and exploring the place on our own – making it our own. wondering at the mystery, awestruck by the beauty, letting it fill up our senses.

as j says, it really does knock your little socks off.

it was the experience of a lifetime. there is no other word – it was magical.

view the photos here (admittedy, i went a little snap-happy with the camera! sorry!)