Singapore

After 47 days travelling through five countries we arrived in Singapore, our final destination of the tour. We were tired and subdued. For many it was the end of travelling and a chance to go home and sleep in their own bed. For others, including me, it marked the end of one stage of travelling and the start of another. But for all of us it also meant goodbye. It was our last night and we were determined to go out with a bang.

Arriving in Singapore mid afternoon, we dropped off our bags at the hotel and, as had become habit now, I opted out of the orientation walk. Instead my room-mate and I headed to the Peace Food Centre and had a Chinese buffet lunch and a wander round the immediate area, including Singapore's own Little India.

We'd arranged to meet up at 5pm in the hotel reception in our best bibs and tuckers. For the girls it meant frocks on. For the boys it meant whatever was in their rucksack that wasn't a pair of shorts, a vest-top or flip-flops. We were off to the most famous hotel in Singapore, Raffles Hotel. We took taxis to avoid arriving in a sweat-induced puddle. Raffles was as impressive as its reputation would have you believe. We felt like royalty wandering around the verandas in our frocks and button-down shirts. Making our way to the famous Long Bar we ordered our Singapore Slings and got down to the serious business of peanut-eating, abiding by the tradition of throwing the shells on the floor. It felt like the perfect conclusion to seven weeks of travelling. The gang was all together, celebrating our last night together.

A couple of Singapore Slings later and with a somewhat depleted bank balance we left Raffles, heading for the bar at the Fairmount Hotel where the views over the city were said to be spectacular. Unfortunately for us there was a big Bollywood star in town, his presence being announced by the screams coming from the crowd at the hotel's entrance. He'd also booked the bar for a private party. Despite some of our gang trying to blag their way in, it wasn't our lucky night. The bar was off limits. Instead, we decamped to the basement bar of the hotel where we spent an extremely enjoyable few hours drinking cocktails or in my case, bottles of Veuve Cliquot champagne. They were on offer at $99 (Singapore dollars) a bottle. Becs and I bought one each which we shared between us. At this stage, we had thrown caution and thrift to the wind. It was our last night and we were on a blow-out.

Somewhat sozzled and with party heads firmly on, we left the bar in search of somewhere where we could dance. Asking around we were directed to a bar where a live band was doing decent cover versions of popular songs. But more importantly, you could dance to it. And the atmosphere was top notch. And people were up for partying. We danced and danced. One band finished, another came on and still we danced. We sang along to the songs at the tops of our voices. Some of us had photos taken with the band. Some of us danced with the locals. Another band came on and still we danced. In the early hours of the morning, the first of the group started to drift off. By 3am I, along with Becs and Kelly-Anne had drifted off too. We left the others to dance. We'd been in the bar dancing for so long we hadn't realised it was pouring down outside. We stood in the torrential downpour trying to hail a taxi. Finally one came. We got soaked just getting into the cab. We crashed into bed, damp, still a bit pissed, but with fond memories of our last night in Singapore.

Next morning after only a few hours sleep and with champagne headaches, we headed off, after breakfast, to do the hop-off, hop-on city tour. Tiredness and sadness were setting in. We took in the sights, including the hotel with the ship on top of it, the waterfront and Chinatown areas but we knew in a few hours we'd be saying goodbye. Some were staying on in Singapore for a few more days before heading home or to their next travel destination. I was leaving that evening for Australia.

We wandered back to the hotel. Picking up our bags from storage, we ordered a taxi to the airport and said our final goodbyes. We befriended people on Facebook, swapped numbers and made plans to meet up in the future. Then we were hugging and heading out to the airport. Maybe even shedding a few tears.

And with that my travels in South East Asia were over and, although I still had more travelling to look forward to in Australia, New Zealand and Hong Kong, I couldn't even begin to describe what an incredible time I had had. I met some fantastic people, both fellow travellers on the tour and local people in whichever country we happened to be in. I saw some of the world's most amazing sights. I did things I'd never done before. I had a wonderful time.

Highlights include watching the sun rise over Angkor Wat, sailing in Halong Bay and the Mekong Delta in Vietnam. Drinks in Kuala Lumpur with the Petronas towers as our backdrop. Getting caught in a tropical rainstorm in Phnom Penh and wading our way out. Bamboo rafting in Chiang Mai. The food and night markets at Luang Prabang. Drinking Singapore Slings at Raffles and dancing the night away. I could go on.

Off all the countries we visited Cambodia and Laos were my favourites. They stole my heart, though Vietnam and Malaysia were both very special too. Thailand was something of a disappointment, though parts of northern Thailand were quite charming. But every country and every new sensation had been a wonderful experience. It truly had been the trip of a lifetime.

So to Nat, Catherine, Cat, Lee, Jamie, Peter, Karlie, Steve, Becs, Kelly-Anne, Sarah, Jackie, Lauren, RoAnne, Ida, Dale, Sarah, Fleur, Drew, Paul, Dave, Warren, Chris, Roseanne and Brian, thanks for friendship, your companionship and for being amazing. Chuck Norris!

I wondered what lay in store for me next. I had another seven weeks of travelling ahead of me. I was headed first to Melbourne before heading off on a three week whistle-stop tour around Australia, before heading to New Zealand for three weeks then heading home via Hong Kong. I was a little weary of travelling, but this time it was under my own steam and I was travelling by myself so I could pretty much please myself. I looked forward to the change in scenery and pace.

Malaka, Malaysia

After a rare but no less welcome lie-in and a slightly later start than usual, we left KL at around 11am to catch the bus to Malaka, our last port of call in Malaysia. Spirits were sagging in the group. We had three days of the tour left. We were tired. We'd become a little frustrated with our tour leader. Malaka turned out to be a much-needed antidote.

Steeped in history, a former port of some significance in the Portuguese empire, later colonised by the British, Malaka or Malacca, is a fascinating town. The old town, that is. The bus station and 'modern' quarter less so. But the streets around Jonker Street with their exotic mix of Chinese, Indian and Portuguese were charming. It reminded many of us of Hoi An in Vietnam.

We were staying in an old merchant house converted to a hotel. Shortly after arriving we convened for a briefing and then for a walk through the town. Although quite touristy, with many shops selling souvenirs and handicrafts, and subsequently quite busy, it was an easy town to get around. The heat was another matter entirely. Like Penang, the heat was challenging to say the least. Temperatures in the mid to high thirties with added humidity.

Walk over, we headed back to the hotel and found ourselves a little local hangout, The Geographer's Cafe, that became our home from home and preferred drinking hole for the next couple of days. We bought buckets of beer and ate some inspired vegetarian dishes including tempeh and fried bean curd skin, which tasted better than it sounds. We drank into the night. As some drifted back to the hotel, others including me, went off in search of karaoke. Karaoke in SE Asia seems to involve more than just singing. In many of the places we'd been, Vietnam in particular, it seemed to be a euphemism for a place to pick up women. So it was in Malaysia too.

Googling 'karaoke Malaka' we found one such bar and made our way there. It was a precondition that we had to buy beer to sign up so beer duly purchased and songs selected, we warbled our way through songs that had by now become old favourites, American Pie and Piano Man. We passed the microphone around and sang to our hearts content. Then, because we weren't buying beer, the songs came to an end. Chinese pop songs were now being sung by the other clientele in the bar, mostly men, being entertained by the female 'hostesses'. But we were happy, we'd had our karaoke fix. We headed back to the hotel.

Next day I went for a wander and took in a bit more of the architecture and feel of Malaka. I retraced my steps to the waterfront, looking at the replica Portuguese sailing ship moored in the dock, past the market selling food, souvenirs and assorted 'tat' to lure in unsuspecting tourists. I stopped briefly at the request of an Indian family to have my photograph taken with them. I walked past the bicycle-rickshaw drivers whose brightly coloured, elaborated decorated vehicles pedalled past carrying tourists on a tour of the city, music blaring. I smiled as a middle-aged Indian couple went past on one such rickshaw, while heavy rock music blared out. Somehow the combination of the two just seemed wrong.

I wandered round the Mall, finally drifting back to the Geographer's where others from the group had stopped for lunch. Later that evening we returned to the Geographer's for dinner, drinks and some impromptu karaoke with the live musician who was playing there that night. Finally we drifted off to the hotel to pack rucksacks and get ready for another early start.

Our final stop on the tour was just around the corner. Tomorrow we'd be in Singapore, saying goodbye to people who had become like family over the preceding seven weeks. We were determined to go out with a bang. And go out with a bang we did.

Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia

We caught the public bus from the Cameron Highlands in the morning and by lunchtime arrived in Kuala Lumpur or KL as it's known. We were staying in Chinatown, close to the well-known Central Market and only a short walk from the bus station. In the ten minutes or so it took us to walk from the bus station to the hotel, numerous market sellers in Chinatown had come up to us asking if we wanted to buy a DVD, a handbag, a t-shirt, a fake Tiffany necklace. The barrage was constant but by the time we left KL we had become adept at brushing them off.

On first impressions, Kuala Lumpur was a surprisingly green and pleasant capital city. I'd been expecting it to be like Bangkok. Certainly it had the skyscrapers and sky train like Bangkok, but it seemed bigger and airier somehow. And it felt safer.

We dumped bags and my room-mate and I shrugged off going on the orientation walk our tour leader insisted on doing in every new place. Instead we found our way to a Chinese vegetarian buffet, a welcome change after all the curry we'd been eating, and for a few quid, munched our way through various 'fake meat' products. The 'fake chicken' complete with 'fake skin' was one mouthful too far though.

After lunch we headed to the Central Market whilst sampling our first taste of durian fruit. It tasted like slightly off scrambled eggs and onion and seemed to disintegrate as you picked it up. Clearly it was off but if that was durian I was in no hurry to try it again. I could still taste it for hours afterwards. Something else that I was also feeling the effects of was the hike from the day before. My thigh muscles ached and ached. Standing, sitting, going up stairs was all quite painful and would remain so for a couple of days.

I could have spent a small fortune on gifts at the Central Market but apart from buying a small painting to add to my growing art collection, I decided instead to invest my money in gin, heading to the Reggae Bar where some of the group had earlier decamped to. Afternoon drinking turned into evening drinking as people joined and left the group. Finally, a hardcore group was left standing. As it got later we left the bar in search of food but many of the street sellers were closing down. We stumbled upon a roti seller who was still trading and bought rotis to help soak up the alcohol. I headed back to the hotel where my room-mate and I sat up talking and laughing about the day's events.

Next day with a slightly thick head we made an early start to go via the monorail to the Petronas towers to buy our tickets to the observation deck and Sky Bridge. Why they haven't managed to come up with a more efficient booking system I have no idea, but basically we stood for around an hour in an infuriatingly slow queue. Tantalisingly, on a screen in front of us, tickets were being snapped up before our eyes while we hoped there would still be tickets left for our chosen time slot. We decided to go for an early evening viewing at 5.15pm as it fit in with our later plans. We finally reached the front of the queue and, tickets duly purchased we headed off to our next destination, the KL Tower.

Somewhat overshadowed perhaps by the more famous and showier Petronas towers, the KL Tower is still a good vantage point to stop off at. We caught the shuttle bus to the top of the hill, paid our entrance fee, posed for 'security' pictures which we would later be invited to buy as a souvenir of our visit then headed up to the circular observation deck. From a distance the KL Tower reminded me of the similar tower in Berlin. It afforded a great view of KL, including the rival towers a few blocks away. Up so close the towers of the Petronas looked like Daleks.

We headed back down, declined the photographs, the pony ride or F1 experience to catch a cab to the Mall where some of us went off in search of lunch and one of our party went to ride the largest indoor roller coaster in the world. The Mall, like others we had been in in Bangkok was vast. After wandering aimlessly for a while we headed back to the hotel via the monorail. We had a big night in store and would be in need of a nap first.

That evening we donned gladrags and headed first to the viewing platform at Petronas Twin Towers for our 5.15pm viewing. The whole of KL was laid out in front of us. The sun was only just starting to go down. The view was spectacular. We then headed by cab to Traders Hotel and the 34th floor where a swimming pool surrounded by a bar was our destination for the evening. It was the perfect spot to watch the sun go down proper over the twin towers and to watch the light-show as the fountains below lit up in the dusk. Sitting in our private booth, champagne cocktails in hand, we watched the sun go down over Kuala Lumpur. It was magical. Towards the end of the evening we started singing, something we'd started doing in Georgetown. Unaccompanied and trying to remember the lyrics, we warbled our way through old favourites Piano Man, American Pie, The Gambler, Wonderwall and, inexplicably, The Fields of Athenry whilst, on the other side of the pool, dance music pulsed out of the speakers.

After a while we decided to head off in search of either another bar or a karaoke place but the moment had passed and instead we took taxis back to Chinatown. We decamped to McDonalds which was one of the few places still open, then weary but exhilarated by a magical night watching the sun set over KL we headed home.

After an all too brief visit, next day we were headed for our penultimate destination on the tour, Malaka. It would turn out to be another little hidden gem.

Cameron Highlands, Malaysia

The journey from Georgetown to the Cameron Highlands should have only taken four hours. It ended up taking nearer eight. The traffic up through the winding roads was unbelievable. At one point it took us twenty-five minutes to travel 1km. The reason apparently was because it was the King's birthday and a public holiday so the entire population of Malaysia appeared to have travelled to the Cameron Highlands. As the minutes ticked away and we sat in traffic tailbacks we entertained ourselves playing 'Who Am I?' and sticking pieces of paper to our foreheads before taking turns to guess which celebrity we were. I was Julia Roberts, then Tom Jones.

The one consolation to our delay is that we were travelling through some of the prettiest scenery in Malaysia. Lush green forests and mountains covered in greenery. We finally arrived at our destination just before 5pm. The town we were staying in, Tanah Rata, was the main town in the Cameron Highlands but still pretty small, consisting of one main street but with some surprisingly busy restaurants. We had curry that night. Again. At this stage I had lost count just how much curry I'd eaten. Then it was a stroll back to the hotel, quite a basic affair with no air-con though none was needed as temperatures had dropped a good ten degrees since we'd left Penang. By nightfall it was positively chilly and excitedly we donned long sleeves and hoodies for the first time in several weeks. While some went to watch a DVD, I opted to read my book. I'd brought a copy of Anna Karenina with me, a book I love and have previously read before but at 800 pages, it takes some ploughing through. I was still only half-way.

Next morning we were headed for an all-day excursion, our last one of the trip. Loading into two 4x4 land rovers we were heading first on a rainforest hike to see the Rafflesia, the world's largest flower. To get there we had to drive for 45 minutes or so through the winding Highland roads then do some off-roading up a dirt track to the start of the trek. The trek took us through the rainforest, up and down some narrow pathways, across streams and, because the bamboo bridge crossing the river had been destroyed by local farmers, we had to scramble down the steep hillside, across the riverbed and back up the other side where the bridge had been. I found the trek very hard going. It was a hot day and assurances it would be a cool were a little wide of the mark. I decided to sit out the last twenty minutes, rejoining the group as they made their way back from seeing the flower. From all accounts I hadn't missed much. Retracing our steps we hiked back down the trail, scrambled back down the hillside and across the river and made our way back to where the 4x4s were parked.

We took off to the next stop, an Aboriginal village for a quick tour then headed for lunch. Unsurprisingly, it was curry. Again. Then, with time and traffic against us we made our way to the Boh tea plantation, whilst enjoying one of the highlights of the trip - some high octane, fly by the seat of your pants driving. Appu our driver had demonstrated just how good he was during the off-roading we had done earlier in the day. Now, with the traffic queuing up in massive congestive lines like it had the day before, he powered up on the opposite side of the road to overtake, only pulling over when an oncoming car came into the path of the landrover. Worried that we would disapprove or report him to our tour leader, he suddenly stopped. We egged him on and promised we wouldn't tell. He resumed powering up the hill while we whooped and cheered from the back of the 4x4. At one point we were even playing tag with other cars who were doing a similar thing to us. It was dangerous but exhilarating and meant we got to the tea plantation before it closed. We were shown around the factory, then the gift shop before being taken out to the plantation itself where Appu told us the history of tea growing in the region. His extensive knowledge was surprising until we learned that both his father and grandfather had worked in the plantation.

Deciding to give the butterfly and insect farm a miss we headed straight to the strawberry farm. We were well over time at this stage but nevertheless enjoyed some delicious strawberry refreshments in the shape of milkshakes, ice-cream sundaes, cake and waffles. The Cameron Highlands is world famous for its strawberry production and we were in our element sampling some of its produce. If you're so inclined you can buy just about anything shaped like a strawberry from fridge magnets to ear-muffs, slippers to umbrellas.

Powering our way back to the hotel past the lines of traffic, we arrived back late but exhilarated by the afternoon's activities. We thanked Appu and gave him an extra tip. We headed back into town for our final dinner in the Cameron Highlands - guess what? - and headed home to pack and have an early night. Next day we were off again, this time to Kuala Lumpur. It would turn out to be a memorable city.

Penang, Malaysia

We were told it would be an epic journey and it was. Leaving Koh Samui at 6.45am we retraced our steps back to the mainland via minivan, ferry and public bus and onto Hat Yai where we ditched the public bus for private minivans to bring us to the Thai-Malaysian border. The crossing itself was pretty painless. Bags x-rayed and passports stamped we loaded back onto the vans for a couple more hours' drive to Georgetown, capital of the Penang peninsula.

First impressions of Malaysia were very favourable. It's incredibly green with trees and grass lining the sides of the road. It seems well organised and unhurried. They even have the three-pronged plugs like at home and cars drive on the left. No elaborate Buddhist temples or ostentatious gold statues lining the sides of the road here.

It was dark as we hit the outskirts of Georgetown. We crossed the longest bridge in SE Asia, though it was difficult to see in the dark. Finally reaching our hotel we checked in and took a quick walk to get our bearings and grab some food. I had the first of many curries while in Malaysia, a delicious local buffet, a mix of Indian and Malay flavours.

Next day we woke to torrential rain that had been pouring for much of the night. We only had a day in Georgetown so wanted to make the most of it. Donning waterproofs we headed out to do a walk of the city taking in some of the main heritage sights, including beautiful old colonial buildings and houses like the Cheong Fatt Tze Mansion, temples and the waterfront including Fort Cornwallis. As the rain stopped, the heat kicked in. The humidity was stifling as wandered through the back streets, each turn throwing up another fascinating sight, past old Chinese merchant houses, through Little India with the food stalls and shops selling saris and traditional Indian dress, Bollywood DVDs and cheap religious statues made of plastic gold. Past mosques and small Buddhist shrines outside the shuttered houses. It was a delicious assault on the senses.

Street art around the city told the history of Georgetown including Love Lane which was formerly the place where rich men kept their mistresses. Now, apparently, you're more likely to get mugged in Love Lane after dark. A little known fact is that Jimmy Choo is from Georgetown!

At the end of the heritage walk some of our group drifted back towards Little India while we went on to the Chocolate Mansion. We sampled many types of chocolate including with chilli, blueberry and even Durian fruit. We also sampled some delicious iced honey lemon tea before deciding to get more in the cafe.

We drifted back to the hotel, walking slowly and sweating profusely. Of all the places we had travelled to we had never experienced heat and humidity like we did in Georgetown. It was incredibly oppressive. Undeterred, once we'd changed shoes and had a quick freshen up we headed back out to Little India to a vegetarian restaurant for a late lunch - another curry - and refreshing fruit juice. Then we retraced our steps from earlier in the day wandering around the side streets. I bought a sari, in readiness for a Muslim wedding in August. Then, finally being worn down by the heat, we went back to the hotel to rest up before heading out for dinner that night. We went to a street food market where I had my third curry in 24 hours, a disappointing vegetable biryani, and we were entertained by a man in a Stetson singing Michael Jackson songs and playing keyboards.

Friday night in Georgetown and we were in the mood to party so headed down to the main thoroughfare where the bars are located, most of them frequented by tourists. As a largely Muslim country with strict laws on alcohol, it was also expensive, though still favourable compared to prices at home. We were enticed into an outdoor bar by the people drumming up business, with the promise of cheap alcohol. The guys opted to share a beer tower whilst the girls shared a cocktail tower of tequila sunrise. Several glasses later, the karaoke urge rippled through the group. We were told we'd have to buy beer in order to sign up to sing. Deciding to save our money, we launched into some impromptu singing in the bar. As the drink flowed we became increasingly raucous and increasingly tuneless, with our grasp of some of the lyrics negligible. We massacred a few songs that night. We moved on to a reggae style bar but the spell was broken. The atmosphere was gone. We finished our drinks and wandered back to the hotel. Tomorrow we were headed into the countryside to the Cameron Highlands.

Having no preconceptions of what to expect of Malaysia, Georgetown had shown what a fascinating country it is. It's a melting pot of races and cultures. Chinese, Indian, Malay live happily alongside each other. There are dashes of European influence too, remnants of former Portuguese and British colonialism. There are Buddhist temples, Hindu temples, Islamic mosques sitting alongside Christian churches. People co-exist without conflict. As countries go it's an example of multi-culturalism at its best and Georgetown is a wonderful exponent of it. Malaysia had surprised me and I was keen to see more.

Koh Samui, Thailand

In the past, whenever I've heard the words Koh Samui it's always conjured up in my mind the vision of a tropical paradise with miles and miles of white sand, cool cabanas and a chilled beach vibe. Catching the ferry from mainland Thailand to Koh Samui, my first glimpse of the island was somewhat different to what I'd imagined. It looked quite ordinary. Sure, there were palm trees and beaches and beach resort hotels but I'd expected somewhere a bit more, well, glamorous. There were ordinary looking houses and businesses like we'd seen on the mainland and, as we reached our destination, the streets with their tourist bars, restaurants and souvenir shops looked suspiciously like Bangkok's Khao San Road.

We were staying in the capital Chaweng so, after checking in and going for a quick bite to eat, we headed off to find the beach. The best beaches we had come across on the trip to date were in Vietnam - Láng Có and Nha Trang. Really quite stunning. I was disappointed with the beaches on Koh Samui but a beach is a beach and the scenery was still very pleasant, if not as stunning as Vietnam. Despite a somewhat hazy day we spent the remainder of the afternoon strolling along the beach, drinking cocktails and eyeing the ominous looking dark clouds in the distance. There are worse ways to spend a Monday afternoon. We walked home through the town later that afternoon during a tropical thunderstorm and had dinner that night at a unremarkable restaurant serving Thai and Western food on the main street. It hadn't happened yet but I was still waiting for Koh Samui to excite me.

I spent the next day sunbathing at the beach, something I very rarely do as I'd rather be out and about visiting places and sunbathing usually bores me. For 150 baht or £3 we hired a sun-lounger on the beach for the day and spent our time lounging, snoozing, being served cool drinks and lunch and taking the occasional dip in the sea to cool off. It felt lazy and decadent to do nothing all day, something I haven't done in a very long time. I enjoyed it and vowed to do more of it in future!

That evening one of our group, our resident Welsh chap, was celebrating his birthday so after showers and a change of clothes, we headed to a nearby restaurant for dinner and drinks. We toasted the birthday boy with 2 for 1 cocktails and enjoyed a piece of birthday cake complete with a red Welsh dragon that our tour leader had organised. Dinner over we all headed to a bar on the beach where the previous night some of our group had been practising their juggling techniques with the resident jugglers. There was a cool, chilled vibe as we laid out on bean bags on the beach, drinking cocktails and watching the guys juggling with fire. One of our group later tried fire juggling herself and did herself proud at her first attempt. It felt like the perfect way to spend an evening. Koh Samui was beginning to grow on me.

Around 1am we left the beach bar in search of somewhere to go dancing and found ourselves at the Green Mango. As dance music pounded out of the speakers we pulled some shapes and demonstrated our dancing prowess to the largely unimpressed clientele. As the night drew to a close and bars started to shut, surprisingly early I thought considering it was supposed to be such a party town, we wandered past the ladyboy bars and pool halls back towards the hotel. It had been a really enjoyable night and more importantly, the birthday boy had thoroughly enjoyed himself.

Next day, having got a little sunburnt the day before and deciding not to push my luck by exposing my skin to a second day of the sun given my track record, I enjoyed a lazy morning having a lie-in before wandering down to the beach to meet the others who were catching a few rays. It had been a relaxing few days on Koh Samui and we'd all appreciated having some much needed rest. The next day was going to be an epic fourteen hour journey as we had another border crossing and another country to travel to.

I spent the last evening on Koh Samui enjoying an impromptu dinner with the birthday boy before heading back to pack the dreaded rucksack ready for an extremely early start the next morning. We were headed to Malaysia, to the island of Penang and the capital Georgetown. Malaysia was a place I knew very little about and wasn't somewhere I would have necessarily opted to visit had it not been for the fact it was one of the destinations on the tour. To my surprise, Malaysia would turn out to be a fascinating, charming place and one of the trip's highlights.

Bangkok, Thailand : Part II

The bus claimed to be a VIP luxury bus. It lied. If that was VIP I'd hate to see economy. After an excruciating overnight bus journey from Chiang Mai, which had been uncomfortable and sleepless for just about all of us, we were back in Bangkok. None of us had particularly enjoyed Bangkok the first time round and now we were back for three more days. What's more we were saying goodbye to some people who were leaving the tour, people we'd grown very fond of over the previous few weeks. It was a bittersweet feeling.

On the day we returned to Bangkok, grumpy and sleep-deprived, once we'd checked into the hotel and had a brief rest, there was an included excursion to the Grand Palace. We were led around by an over-enthusiastic tour guide who insisted on taking lots of group photos and going into very detailed history of each building. The Palace and the other temples in the grounds were stunning. Among some of the most beautiful buildings in Bangkok. Gold-plated temples, beautifully tiled pagodas, Chinese inspired architecture, there was even a replica of Angkor Wat. The whole site was spectacular and well worth a visit. But we weren't really in the mood. It was hot, we were exhausted, bad-tempered and biding our time till we could leave Bangkok. Tour over, we headed back to the hotel to relax or catch a few hours snooze time.

That night at dinner, we said goodbye to some familiar faces, people we had been travelling with, many for five weeks, others for only a couple. Regardless of the length of time we had spent together, we had all grown fond of each other. Everyone was a character, some louder than others, but as a group of mixed ages ranging from 22 to 66 and mixed nationalities ranging from Australian, Kiwi, American, Canadian, English and Welsh, we had all got on extremely well. As we said our goodbyes and looked back over everything we'd done together, the group dynamic shifted on its axis once again. Nine people from the original group remained. Tomorrow we would be joined by three more people before containing on the final two week leg of the tour.

Lack of sleep finally catching up with me, I headed to the bar across from the hotel for a nightcap then headed for an early night, leaving the others to party long into the night.

Next morning, Saturday, I had booked to take a vegetarian Thai cooking class with a couple of girls from the tour. The proprietor, May Kaidee, collected us and brought us to her cooking school a few streets away. A decade or so ago, May recognised the health benefits of switching to a vegetarian diet and has since become something of a guru promoting vegetarian and vegan Thai cooking.

We cooked three dishes, Tom Yam soup, pad Thai and Massaman curry as well as enjoying a complimentary dessert of coconut mango rice. The basis for each dish - spices, herbs and coconut milk - was quite similar but each dish had its own unique taste and was incredibly easy to cook, each taking less than five minutes. It was a revelation. The tastes were exquisite, the Massaman curry being a particular favourite. Cook books purchased and doggy bags filled we headed back to the hotel, triumphant at having mastered Thai cooking.

That evening we met the last three people who would be joining us, two English and one Irish girl. Next morning we said our final goodbyes to our friends who were leaving, then spent the remainder of the day getting ready to leave Bangkok for Koh Samui. After five weeks of a pretty relentless travelling schedule, we were all ready for a few days R&R at the beach. For the remainder of the afternoon I planned my Australian itinerary, my destination after Asia, and booked travel and hostels in readiness for the next part of my adventure.

After our experience on the overnight bus from Chiang Mai to Bangkok it was with some trepidation that we left for the bus station to catch the sleeper bus to Koh Samui. The bus on this occasion was the height of luxury. Comfortable seats with recline and massage functions, ample leg room, refreshments, pillows and blankets, it was a vast improvement on the previous bus. Curiously though, sleep was not forthcoming for many of us again. The Thai karaoke that was piped through the PA system at 4.30am as a wake-up call was also particularly unwelcome. However, we were on our way to Koh Samui and the promise of beaches, sunbathing and birthday parties.

Chiang Mai, Thailand

Conveniently for us, our hotel was located slap bang on the Laos border crossing. After a quick breakfast, we donned rucksacks and walked down the short walkway to the Laos border. Passports stamped we loaded into speedboats, that's right, speedboats and crossed the river, a journey of only a few minutes, to the Thai border. As border crossings go it was one of the easiest. I would later be disappointed that no other border crossings involved speedboats.

Loading into minivans we were headed to Chiang Rai, for a quick visit to see the Golden Triangle - the point at which the Mekong borders on the three countries of Laos, Thailand and Burma and the site of the infamous opium routes of northern Thailand. We paid a visit to the Opium Museum where we learned that 'bong' is actually a Thai word and discovered the chemical formula for turning opium into high-grade heroin. Always useful to know. After looking at various opium pipes and 'bongs' and discovering the best way to smoke opium (lying down in the foetal position, if you're interested) we headed off to see a giant gold Buddha statue nearby. It was huge. Easily the biggest Buddha statue I saw on the whole trip.

Our final destination before lunch was The White Palace, the highly ornate Buddhist temple and vision of an artist who bought the plot of land and has made it his life's work to design and build these unique temples. They were impressive and quirky, bordering on the slightly insane. I also paid a visit to the best toilets in Thailand, housed in a golden temple.

After lunch, we drove for a couple of hours to Chiang Mai, our destination for the next few days. Arriving late in the afternoon we had very little time in Chiang Mai itself. We wandered past the street food sellers as dusk fell and I tried a kind of pancake/ravioli type food, filled with corn and onion. Slightly sweet, it was different and quite tasty. Unfortunately it was also the prime suspect in a later bout of dodgy tummy.

Wandering around the side streets close to the old city walls, we happened upon a Wat, where monks had just begun their evening prayers. We listened for a while to the hypnotic sound as around thirty monks, all kneeling, heads bowed, chanted in unison.

Heading back towards the hotel, the rest of the evening was taken up with drinks, laughter and good conversation at a local Western style pub. Next day we had an early start and were off for adventures with the hill tribes of northern Thailand.

Next morning after breakfast we were introduced to our guide, Sonny who, for the next two days would help us negotiate the tribes and open terrain around greater Chiang Mai. Splitting into two teams we packed ourselves into two open sided trucks. After a quick stop at the market to buy provisions for dinner, we drove into the northern Thai countryside.

Our first stop was Chiang Dao where we visited some local caves, home to a series of Buddha statues. Our next stop was to visit the Akha, Lisu and Karen hill tribes. We drove off road and into a village made up of a few simple wooden houses on stilts, where women sat splitting bamboo into strips that they would later sell for a few baht. Wild boars and water buffalo were tied up in holding areas while chickens and ducks roamed free. The tribespeople, largely dressed in Western dress, observed the tourists with feigned curiosity. They lived a relatively simple and traditional life reflected in the simplicity of their houses.

As we visited other tribes during the afternoon and saw traditional weaving and handicrafts being done by the women, it became apparent as they did the hard sell on us that it was yet another way for them to get us, the tourist, to part with our money. Interesting though the tour was, it left a taste of cynicism in some mouths.

As the afternoon drew on, with the heat and humidity showing no signs of abating, the brave and enthusiastic undertook a hill trek to that night's accommodation in a traditional homestay in the mountain village of Palong. Meanwhile, the more canny and astute of the group, myself included, opted to take the truck to the homestay, the pay-off being we would carry all the bags to the camp in return for first dibs on the beer, a good hour before everyone else got there. Some of us were on our third by the time the trekkers emerged sweaty and exhausted from between the trees.

After cold bucket showers in very rustic wash-huts, complete with squat toilets, the height of luxury in the middle of the jungle, we relaxed and enjoyed our surroundings. The homestead was a small group of huts around a central campfire, one hut housing a collection of handicrafts by the village that were available for purchase. We were all sleeping in one large woven bamboo hut consisting of simple roll mattresses and mosquito nets. When one person turned over, everyone felt the vibrations. You could see the earthen floor below through the gaps in bamboo weave.

In another hut across the path, tribeswomen from the village were cooking our dinner. Smoke emerged in big, bilious clouds from the chimney and doorway as they cooked over an open flame. Big pots of rice and vegetables were laid out over the floor of the hut waiting to be served up.

Sonny, our guide, led proceedings and dished up the simple but surprisingly tasty food. Among the topic of conversation that evening was everyone's bowel movements. A few people were suffering, myself included, with upset stomachs. One of our group had remained in Chiang Mai after a nasty bout of food poisoning. Though symptoms were less severe, it made for an interesting night as a few of us juggled squat toilets with upset digestive systems.

Entertainment that night was provided by children from the village, dressed in traditional dress who danced and sang around a campfire. As the wind rose, signalling the oncoming storm and blew smoke in every direction, we danced around the campfire with the children before being invited to tip them for their performance.

Performance over, there was little else to do in the jungle apart from talk and drink beer which is what we did, while watching the lightening in the sky and listening to the rain drumming on the roof of the hut, crossing our fingers that the hut was waterproof. It was. As evenings go, it was really quite peaceful, sitting in the middle of the jungle, listening to the rain in the dark.

After a restless night for most, we woke to a breakfast of eggs, toast and tea. The rain had largely dried overnight which was handy as me and a few others from the group were off elephant trekking. The majority had done trekking the day before and reports were mixed. Some reported elephants were being hit on the head or backs of legs. Others said their experience was fine and they hadn't observed any cruelty. With some trepidation I walked to the village to climb the specially built platform where you got on the elephant.

The seat was a metal frame with leather base and padding that mounted on the elephant's back and was secured by chains. Sharing the seat with Jackie, a fellow traveller, we clambered on and quickly got used to the slow, jerky movements as the elephant moved off. Ours was a relatively young elephant and was being 'driven' by a young guy in his late teens or early twenties, who sat on the elephant's neck and steered by means of rubbing his feet behind the elephant's ears. On a couple of occasions the elephant went off track in search of leaves or fruit and was given a smack with a stick on the top of its head but mostly the handler treated the elephant well.

As experiences go, riding an elephant isn't one I particularly want to repeat in a hurry. It was pretty uncomfortable, not to mention inelegant, particularly going downhill where your hips are pushed forward and you have to hold on for dear life. I'm still rather ambivalent about elephants being used for tourist rides. At the end of the ride, Sonny reassured us that the elephants would be rested for the remainder of the day, which made me happier that the elephant's welfare was being put first. (As an aside, about five minutes before the end of the trek the elephant raised its trunk and sent a shower of green elephant snot over me and Jackie. I was wearing a white t-shirt. To this day I've never been able to get the stains out.)

Elephant experience over, we were headed next to the Ping river to do some rafting on specially constructed bamboo rafts. In groups of three, we clambered onto the rafts and sat back to enjoy a leisurely raft down the river being steered by local drivers. Of course, boys being what they are, it wasn't long before the boys from our group who were on opposing rafts decided it would be fun to leap from raft to raft in an attempt to capsize them and pull people into the water. On a couple of occasions our raft almost capsized but, clinging on for dear life for the second time that day, I managed to avoid falling in. A favourite trick of the drivers was to smack the bamboo poles they used to steer off the surface of the water, which resulted in the person nearest getting a soaking. About ten minutes from the end of the rafting trip we successfully manoeuvred a series of small rapids, again without capsizing, although as we scraped the rocks our raft was feeler a bit flimsier than when it had set off. Earlier, the girls on our raft had told me they'd heard my name mentioned and that the boys were determined to get me in the water. I could see the end point in the distance. I began to think I was safe. Suddenly the Thai driver from the neighbouring raft leapt into the water next to us and began to completely dismantle our raft. Needless to say, I fell in. Somehow the other two girls managed to cling onto the bamboo poles, all that was left of our dismantled raft. I swam to the dock and clambered out, soaking wet. I'd loved every minute of the bamboo rafting and had had a great laugh, but I was pleased I had packed extra (dry) clothes in my backpack.

Clothes changed, and with wet ones tied to the top of the truck to get them dry as we drove along, we headed first for lunch then to a series of points of interest - first to see how elephant dung is turned into paper, then to an orchid and butterfly farm and finally to Tiger Kingdom where some of us opted to pay to see the tiger cubs. After washing hands and reading the safety instructions, we were allowed into a large open space where around five or six three-month old tiger cubs were laid with their handlers, some of them sleeping. Handlers invited us to stroke them or lay our heads on their stomachs. Some cubs would allow you to rub their tummies. It was a warm day and the cubs were sleepy and uninterested in wanting to 'play'. Again I wondered about the welfare of the animals. The cubs looked well looked after, as did the other adult tigers we saw outside, but they were still being held captive, some of them in cages, for the benefit of tourists to gawp at and have photographs taken with. Again, it didn't sit well with me.

Our final visit of the afternoon was to see the women of the Long Neck Karen tribe, famous for the brass rings they wear around their necks. The story goes, steeped in legend and local folklore, that centuries ago the women of the tribe were being attacked and killed by wild animals, probably tigers. They always attacked at the same spot on the body, the neck, so to protect their women the tribe started placing rings around their necks. Wild tigers no longer pose a threat but the tradition has stayed. From the age of five or six girls start to wear rings adding to them every couple of years until they reach maturity in their mid to late thirties by which time they can have twenty or more. The rings don't stretch the neck, a common misconception, but the weight of the heavy brass rings does cause the breastplate to be pushed down which creates the look of an elongated neck.

Visit to the tribe over we headed back to Chiang Mai for much needed showers and a brief rest-stop at the hotel before heading off to catch the overnight sleeper bus back to Bangkok. The journey and our return to Bangkok would be bittersweet.