New year, new job

For the past eight months I’ve been enjoying a career break. I left my job at a cancer charity in April 2012 and spent the next three months travelling through SE Asia, Australia and New Zealand, arriving home in late summer just in time for the Olympics and Paralympics.

After the initial excitement of being able to enjoy an impromptu semi-retirement wore off, I realised I needed to start looking for another job. After seven years in my previous job, I was more than a little apprehensive about starting somewhere new. Having commuted to London from the north-east for the best part of five years, I knew the decision I’d made to base myself back in the north-east might be challenging, given the comparative lack of job opportunities in the North compared to those in the south-east. I had also limited myself to only looking for jobs in certain employment sectors, specifically the third or not-for-profit sector, public and higher education sectors. 

I was fortunate, then, to land a job on the first attempt. A job at a university in the north-east, one I had eyed with curiosity but ultimately disregarded when it was first advertised in September but one I embraced with a renewed vigour when it was re-advertised in November. By early December I had interviewed for and been offered the job, with a start date of 7 January.

And so, the sojourn is over.  Time to put my travelling head away and put on my business head. But first, time to enjoy a few more days of being a lady of leisure... 

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.