Harold Fry just wants to drop a quick letter to his former colleague Queenie Hennessy, who is dying. But then he runs past the mailbox and also the post office, out of the city and further and further, 87 days, 1000 kilometers. On foot from southern England to the Scottish border to Queenie's Hospice. A journey that…
And then the last tuk-tuk early in the morning. It's early in the morning at four o'clock, and even in Phnom Penh, which never sleeps, peace has returned. The fleeting calm before the next storm. We chug through the empty streets at lightning speed, a fire is burning here and there, shadowy figures are crouching next to it, people are laughing, eating, drinking... I...
Here it actually is, the day of the last times. For the last time, the morning meal in front of the pool, the last morning conversation with the young lady at the reception (“When do you come back to Cambodia?”), the last pickup in front of the hotel, the last time taking a seat on the bus, the last wave of that in the morning...
When does the sun rise? Unfortunately, I only ask this question after I – like a lot of other people – stand in front of the pitch-dark entrance to Angkor Wat at almost half past five. The question concerns the time: what is the reason that you have to get up at half past four to get here so early...
Angkor Wat by bike? Although all the tuk-tuk drivers, with obviously only honorable intentions, warned me not to cycle the journey to the temples, I can't help myself. I think you should have to do a little something for the eighth wonder of the world and not just pay an entrance fee of 20 dollars (which...
Holidays aren't what they used to be either. One might get the impression from the increasing number of early rises. I don't know how many times I have to get up before six o'clock because either the train, the bus, the tuk-tuk or some other emergency requires it. However, you get used to it, and above all,...
Is there a limit to what humans are capable of? Memories are awakened. To the kings of Cambodia – brothers, relatives? – who either replaced each other or fought each other. A terrible, brutal, inhumane time when Pol Pot and his entourage sent millions of people to the killing fields, where they starved or were beaten to death. But more …
So now Kampot, just under an hour inland from Kep. A quiet place to stretch your legs, or in my case, could. Unfortunately, the extremely tight schedule does not allow for more than one day. A last look at the main square, where the gathered TukTuks await customers and the tourists...
“Standing Buddha, 640 meters”. A Buddha, here, in the middle of the jungle? And “Standing??” Normally the guys are sitting or lying down, from round to full-bodied figures, with a wise, sometimes somewhat simple smile on their faces. I look around, the road curves to the right here before disappearing into the shade of the trees. The path to the Buddha, on the other hand, is...
After the evening walk along the sea, with an endless selection of strangeness, unexpected and never-before-seen sights, it was getting late. But now another, albeit less pleasant, sight awaits me. And another hellish ride. I'm inevitably back on the road by six, once again with a heavy head and an empty stomach. Man...
“Il est cinq heures, Paris s'éveille”, one of Jacques Dutronc's timeless hits. It's a little later than 5 a.m. and instead of Paris, Saigon is waking up from its short sleep. (“Les travestis vont se raser, les stripteaseuses sont rhabillées”). Still tired from my short sleep, I lean against the wall while all around me...
Занимайтесь свиданием, Антон, и удачи вам. I pat the shoulder of the young Russian who sat next to me from Mui Ne to Saigon farewell. A surprised and pleased smile momentarily crosses the otherwise expressionless face he's been wearing the entire time. The fact that he was sat next to me of all people...
It takes a while and a few sweaty climbs past some trees until I find the spot. What these trees feed on is a mystery to me. All around there is only sand. That's it, that's the place, all around there is only sand, in all shades of yellow, ocher yellow, mustard yellow, cinnamon yellow, then again in the glow...
A day off, a day so to speak like a gap for which nothing has to be planned, nothing reserved, nothing has to be done, nothing has to be thought about, just pure being. Probably hard to bear, but let's see what these empty 24 hours bring us. Chatter Should we start with breakfast? Not a bad idea, because what could be more sublime...
Once again the train sets off, jerking, jerking, bumping and stomping as always, and with a final groaning protest it finally picks up speed. It seems as if this departure would be the last thing he would want to do, but he moves forward - reluctantly - slowly and steadily, towards the south, Nha Trang, the...
In my favorite breakfast place (the bread in the hotel tasted like aluminum, absolutely inedible) the continental breakfast not only offers a bunch of fresh fruit and a LOT of toasted bread with butter and confit (pink and chemical like always), but also bus tickets to buy . All done. From inedible to wonderful – breakfast in Asia A …
Could this be Hué, the city that suffered the most severe bombings during the Vietnam War? One of the worst combat zones of the Vietnam War. It's hard to believe, but Hué, this ancient city with its sites now declared a UNESCO World Heritage Site, was heavily bombed for a long time. Including the huge citadel with its palaces, the Imperial Enclosure, the…
Isn't order the measure of all things, but rather its opposite? In the afternoon, the train leaves promptly at 15.40:XNUMX p.m., according to the urgent warning from the extremely friendly receptionist. So enough time to say goodbye to Hanoi, this wild animal. Once again I throw myself into the crowd, I wonder about collisions that don't happen, I meet friendly people...
Can anyone – apart from us old farts – remember Hồ Chí Minh? The Vietnam War is still present here. Ho-Ho-Ho Chi Minh, that was the slogan on the streets, but that was a long time ago, and Uncle Ho was called away to his ancestors just as long ago (in September 1969). His last wish...
The surroundings that appear when you look sleepily out of the window couldn't be more different. Yesterday birdsong, sunshine and the prospect of a hot day, today a gray, foggy morning. Honking, blaring, clearly the cacophony of a big city. It's mid-February, I've landed in Hanoi and in the cold. So then with…
Not that it was cold here in the north of Laos, no, but the evenings and nights can get a bit cold. So at least for one day (tomorrow we're going to Hanoi, back to the cold?) warmth is in order. And an extraordinarily arduous journey from Luang Namptha to Luang Prabang, mostly over a…
Imagine the main street of a medium-sized town, somewhere in the world: heavy traffic, bumper to bumper, traffic lights, pedestrian crossings, hustle and bustle, honking, noise... Not here in Luang Namptha, here the clocks are still ticking like they did 30, 40 or so ago more years.. You could have a picnic in the middle of the street, it would hardly be...
No breakfast? But before I head back to Laos, I first have a hearty breakfast for the long journey. Far from it - even at 9.00 a.m. most shops are still closed, as are all restaurants. Is that even possible? In China? Numerous people are sitting on the sidewalks, on their tiny little chairs, sipping...
The annual New Year's holiday is over, the traffic noise is louder and more intense. Monday. Today I will discover something important. Yunnan is another China. Despite an empty stomach and a sleepy head - rarely a good prerequisite for an objective assessment of an unknown city - I am filled with a strange feeling of well-being from the first moment. Quite …
Hopefully the bus to Jinghong in Yunnan is not a bad omen. The departure of the bus to Jinghong is scheduled for exactly 07.10. Numerous travelers crowd into the TukTuks heading to Luang Prabang or Oudomxai, and soon I'm alone, with the exception of a Chinese couple who seem pretty lost. Once again, Laotian punctuality is...
What I don't know early in the morning - the trip from Chiang Khong to Luang Namptha will be a journey through the deep night. But one thing at a time... For a month now there has been no ferry, no more stairs, no more hustle and bustle at the customs post. There is now a wide bridge, guarded by two ostentatious...
So now the beginning again. The slow approach to a new environment, to sun and warmth, a different culture, a different language, different faces. Smiling, friendly, round Thai faces that are so hard to read. A new beginning in Chiang Mai In front of me is the river, the Ping River, dirty-brown, calm, calmly flowing, from...