singapore

Well, I'm right back where I started my Asian adventure - Singapore.

All that remains to be done is to get pissed at the expense of British Airways on my 13 hour flight back to London. I'm in need of a drink after my Air Asia flight from Bangkok - this region's equivalent of Ryanair, only worse. You would have thought for an international flight lasting two and a half hours they might just have on sale at least a can of beer, but no. The strongest thing they had was Liptons Lemon Ice Tea. I was almost tempted to jump out of the emergency exit. What is society coming to when you can't get pissed in the air? It's what flying was invented for...

phangan buri

My hotel for the last leg of this rather epic holiday has been just what I needed.

The Phangan Buri resort is clean, comfortable, modern and set just off the beach. It affords stunning views, a lovely pool to relax and chug beer in, and is very affordable. My room contains a huge bed, peaceful air conditioning, a tv with an extensive sattelite network and even a computer with internet access. At this stage of my break, where all I want to do is relax, it is perfect.

The crowd staying here has predominantely been a young one - drawn to the island by the full moon party. There are a lot of Australians, which is understandable given that it is not expensive to get here from down under and doesn't take long either. It has been another group of travellers who have intrugued me during my stay.

I have been struck by how it would appear the majority of British travellers here do not seem to be on holidays or six month to a year breaks. Most seem to be university students away for three months over the summer. And there are a hell of a lot of them. As I listened to their extensive travel plans, I made a mental note never to believe any tales of student debt woe ever again. I don't recall such trips being commonplace when at uni, but as I reminded myself today, I started 12 years ago . We now have a situation where people can borrow more - assuming Daddy isn't paying - and indulge themselves more. The financial consequences can be worried about later. For now, it's all about a daily diet of sunshine and Singha beer.

Some of these people are pricks, quite frankly. As I listened to them talk inane shite whilst splashing around in the pool - most of which consisted of nothing more than a description of how drunk they had been the previous evening - I wondered if I had been as obnoxious when I was a student. Then I recalled things like a web site I once ran that was dedicated to stories about getting drunk. Perhaps I was. I am sure, however, that I was not as stupid as some of them. I overheard one guy regailing other people in the pool with the story of how he spent three years at college, from which he emerged with one 'A' level - in media studies. He is now on a 'gap year' before going to university, which considering his academic record, probably isn't what most people would classify as being a university at all. Wanker.

Ok, ok. I'll stop ranting now. Maybe I'm just bitter about being 30 and having the best years of my life behind me...

Tonight (Saturday) is the last one of this trip. Tomorrow I catch a boat to Ko Samui, a plane to Bangkok, another to Singapore, where I then fly back home to blighty.

full moon party

Ah, the full moon party on Ko Pha Ngan. An infamous, globally famous monthly brazen bash featuring drug fuelled delirium and drunken debauchery.

I had been once before four years ago and had, from what I can actually remember, a great time. Ahead of my second visit, I felt a sense of excitement and also some nervousness. I was looking forward to dancing the night away on the beach, but was also a little bit weary because of all the tales of misfortune that have accompanied all the positive experiences of this event.

You could write a book about all the bad things that have happened here. People going missing on the way home to their hotel. Bags being slashed with knives and personal belongings stolen. Boats en route from Ko Samui sinking and people drowning. Drugs being planted and the police carting people to the cells or the cashpoint. There are certainly more than a few warnings that come with attending the full moon party.

I suppose all of this stuff just has to be viewed in context. More than 10,000 people cram onto the beach here every month for this party. Out of that number some will get too drunk and get into trouble. Some will take drugs and get caught. The obvious thing to do is just to keep your wits about you.

The amount of people who risk taking drugs at the party surprises me. Although ecstasy is synonymous with this kind of event, I personally would not wish to do anything that put me at risk of ever, ever setting foot in a Thai jail.

Drinking moves onto a whole new level at this party. It is not so much binge drinking, more an orgy of alcoholic excess. Obviously the beer is cheap. And the locals also literally sell other drinks by the bucket load. For just a couple of pounds you can get your own bucket filled with half a bottle of spirits, red bull and coke. You then walk round with your bucket, drinking the contents through straws. It's quite a laugh, but it's also a lot of booze to be served in one go. It obviously gets drunk a lot quicker than if you were buying shot by shot, making it perfectly easy to drink half a bottle of spirits in less than an hour without really noticing. Until you're puking up in the sand or passed out, which was not an unusual sight at this party.

As I said, it pays to keep your wits about you and play it safe. I had no hassle or problems from anyone, and all in all had a marvellous time. I arrived at the party around 10pm and was still there at 7am the next morning. The time passed easily. It is impossible not to be captivated by the sights and sounds of this event. All sorts of music are pumped out across the Gulf of Thailand and you are never far from something that catches the eye.

The sun had come up by the time I left, which is a must-see if you ever go to this party. As I trudged back to the hotel, I noticed I was covered in luminous paint. Quite how that happened, I have no idea.

ko pha ngan

I got outrageously pissed on Tuesday night - my final day on Ko Samui before heading over to the island of Ko Pha Ngan. It was a fun night, during which I was befriended by a group of travellers from Gloucester. Some of them were over here for their fifth time. There is definitely something about the place - it's beauty, it's atmosphere - that is compulsive and addictive.

The boat to Ko Pha Ngan takes roughly an hour, and there can be few journeys in the world that are as picturesque as this one. I felt very relaxed as I looked out across the clear blue sea. I had a hotel booked for the next four nights and could look forward to doing as much, or little, as I wanted. I reserved online a room at the same hotel I stayed in here four years ago. It was a place I had very fond memories of. I recalled its affordable comfort, beautiful location and friendly staff. This would be the perfect way to end my trip, and I even splashed out on a premium room with a few little extras to make the experience that much better.

After a quick spot of lunch, I caught a taxi to the hotel. It felt good to be back. When I arrived, I presented a copy of my e-mailed reservation confirmation and waited to be handed the requisite forms that need to be filled in. For some reason the receptionist appeared concerned, and called over to another member of staff. Eventually, after lots of frantic talking in Thai, they hit me with a bombshell. There was no record of my reservation and the hotel was fully booked. I just laughed at them - they were holding in their hands an e-mail I had received confirming that I had a room. What they then claimed is that I had not booked it through the official means - that the e-mail address was not theirs, it was someone pretending to work on behalf of the hotel. Apparently other people had fallen victim to this scam. The manager urged me to ring my credit card company to check no money had been taken. Scarcely able to believe what was going on, I duly rang Halifax. No money had been fraudulently taken by this hotel or anyone else. While this was a relief, I still faced the problem of this hotel being fully booked. On the night of the full moon party. A night when thousands descend on Ko Pha Ngan and accommodation is scarce...

I sat with my head in my hands wondering how on earth this had happened. The whole point of arranging a room for four days well in advance was to prevent this. I did not know what to do or where to go. To be fair, the hotel staff were very helpful. The manager gave me a big bottle of water, put her arm around me and suggested a way forward. I could stay in a room for the afternoon to rest and shower, go to the party and then check into my own room as soon as one became free the next day. In the circumstances, it seemed the only option I had...

I was taken up to a room close and similar to the one one I stayed in four years ago. It didn't look like it had been cleaned since. The bed sheets were dirty and smelt foisty. The air conditioning was more noisy than an aircraft hanger. Would I actually want to stay here anyway?

At around 5pm I headed down to get some dinner. Food is always comforting when things go a bit pear shaped on travel. As I ordered a beer, I reflected on the contrast between the first time I had been here and now. Back in 2004 I sat here for three days and marvelled at the clear blue sea, knocking back beer after beer with my companion Raj. Now I was without a room, and a group of chavs were playing some utterly awful rap music on the cd player. Behind me were a group of Aussie guys, who were also incredibly irritating. Virtually every single sentence they spoke contained the word 'fucking'. Pass the fucking ketchup. What time does the fucking party start? I want a fucking beer. I need the keys to the fucking room.

I'm the last person in the world to offer lectures on bad language. What annoyed me about these guys was that the over-use of swear words devalues them and renders them meaningless. If I say I've got fucking pissed, it means seriously pissed. Not some run of the mill night. Likewise, I try my best to call people cunts only when it is absolutely appropriate so it carries impact. Therefore I would like to say that these three antipodean gentlemen were, without any doubt whatsoever, complete and utter cunts.

After an average meal, I decided to try and find somewhere else to stay. The atmosphere and everything else was just not right here. What worked for me in 2004 wasn't doing so in 2008. If I had to do without a hotel tonight then fine - I would be at the party all night and could save some money.

Five minutes later I stumbled across a funky and modern looking hotel on the beach. A lively crowd were gathered by the pool and the facilities looked excellent. I went to reception and inquired about getting a room. They could only offer me a very basic air conditioned room for tonight, but after that I could move into another with better facilities - and all for less than I would have paid at the place I tried to book. I paid there and then and checked in. After all that crap I was now in a better hotel, paying less and could go off to the party...

perfection

Ko Samui was not on my list of destinations when I set out on this trip. In fact I had planned to be in Vietnam by now.

I first came here in 2004, and was absolutely blown away by the place. The beach was unlike most I had ever been to before, the bars were crazy and everything was just brilliant. For those reasons, I had been reluctant to come back. I just didn't think the second visit could ever live up to the first. It would be like a veteran footballer going back to a club where he enjoyed rich success in his youth out of nostalgia. Or something like that...

As a rule, I don't go back to the same places I have been on holiday to. There is simply too much in the world to see. But Ko Samui had a draw to me that has been impossible to shake off, and boy am I now grateful for that.

The reason I opted against Vietnam was because I would like to visit the country properly, rather than dash around a few places in a week. As I have also said, I'm pretty fed up with moving around every day and the constant hassle of arranging appropriate travel and accommodation. A period of getting up in my own time and doing nothing is just what I need right now.

I'm staying in Chaweng, which is the busiest and some would argue most beautiful stretch of beach on Samui. It is absolutely stunning. This part of the world has its critics, most notably holier than thou travellers who bemoan the expensive hotels and the presence of Starbucks and McDonalds. It is true this area is, in parts, commercialised and pricey. But there are unfortunately very few parts of the world where you are far away from access to a Big Mac, and nobody says you have to eat there. Plus Samui is also absolutely teeming with great locally owned and run bars and restaurants.

The overnight train to Bangkok en route to coming here was outrageous fun. I got completely shit faced in the restaurant car with a group of American travellers, who were all good value. We sat there for ages glugging back beer after beer - all topped off with generous pourings of cheap Thai whisky. Even the bar staff joined in. As the wind blew in from outside as we sped through the jungle, I grinned widely and thought 'this beats the Marquis of Granby'...

Conversation with the yanks ranged from the drunken inane to the intelligent. All were Democrats, all Obama supporters and all upset by the damage that had been done in recent years to America's reputation. From what they were saying, it does appear some people do take out their opinions about Iraq and Bush on Americans in general when they are overseas. This is ironic considering nobody really does the same against British travellers. Anyway, all agreed much would change should Obama win in November. I was interested to learn much of big business in America thinks the same way. The Democrats are currently pulling in nine times as much corporate cash as the Republicans. At first this surprised me, but when you think about it a bit more, it starts to make sense. If you are CEO of a company with ambitions to expand your business overseas and make more money, who would you rather have as the leader of your country? A Republican associated with unpopular wars? Or a fresh-faced, youthful Democrat with massive appeal to people under the age of 35? It ain't, as they say, rocket science. Obama wins in November, and then we all start eating Big Macs, drinking Starbucks coffee and supporting the New York Yankees. Or at the very least some people instinctively feel less of a revulsion towards worldwide American brands.

Anyway, after getting solidly pissed I passed out in my bed around midnight. The next thing I knew, it was 7am and we were pulling into Bangkok. Sleeper trains in this part of the world are a fantastic way to travel. I just love laying in bed and looking out the window at the surroundings - preferably with a glass of whisky in my hand. And it's dirt cheap - roughly a tenner - saving on accommodation costs for the evening.

From Bangkok Station, I caught a cab to the airport. As is typically the case in the Thai capital, on several occasions I thought we were going to have a high speed crash. The driver - when not trying to drive as fast as humanly possible - asked me quite a lot about football. He asked who I supported, and when I told him he just burst out laughing. Tosser. He was a Man United fan...

The flight over to Samui only took an hour. From the moment I arrived I instantly knew I had made the right decision to come here. The sun is shining and I'm now off to the beach...

ko samui

I'm now on the gorgeous Thai island of Ko Samui. An update of why I'm here and how I got here will follow, but right now I'm having far too much fun to sit in front of a computer...

laos

Have you ever got off to the wrong start with someone and then come to regret it? Because that is how I would describe the brief period of time I spent in Vientiane, capital of Laos...

I arrived there on Friday morning after a pleasant and efficient flight from Cambodia, which thankfully hadn't been affected by the torrential rain of the day before. My first impressions were favourable - there were no pushy taxi drivers harassing people at the airport and, thankfully, a driver was waiting to whisk me to my hotel, which meant at last one of my attempted online reservations had worked for this city.

After I checked into my hotel - a decent enough place but with a window overloooking a generator - I went for a stroll. Vientiane is a very, very small place for a capital, but that is supposed to be part of its charm. Billed as a friendly city with old French colonial buildings bustling over the Mekong river, I was looking forward to my weekend here.

After ten minutes or so wandering around - which was enough to walk around a substantial part of the main bit of town - I began to feel very flat. All there seemed to be was the odd non-descript hotel here, a bar there and so on. The grey sky, looking like it was going to dump yet more rain on me, probably didn't help. I had not been here more than an hour and yet I already hated it.

With nothing better to do, I went for a beer by the Mekong. This is supposed to be one of the best things to do in Vietiane, but it was more like having a drink by the Thames Estuary than in South East Asia. The water looked filthy and polluted and I felt miserable.

After about 15 minutes, the inevitable happened and it started to chuck it down. When the rain comes in this part of the world, believe me it comes. Within a short while the bar was practically flooded, and I sat despondent reflecting on the situation. It was Friday afternoon and yet I was not scheduled to leave until Sunday evening. What the fuck was I supposed to do here all weekend? There appeared to be little of any great interest to go and see, and if the weather was going to be this bad I would have to stay inside anyway. At that moment, all the despondency I had felt over the last 48 hours engulfed me and I decided enough was enough. There would be no more moving from place to place every other day, spending ages in internet cafes trying to organise the next trip and fretting about things.

As soon as the rain eased, I marched - or paddled more like - to a travel agent and booked myself on a train to Bangkok leaving Saturday evening. Bollocks to this - I had paid 20 quid for my hotel room that night, but didn't care. I was going back to Thailand and to the beaches.

Having made my decision to leave Vientiane, I felt almost liberated. After the rain finally went away, the sun came out and I went round a few bars. The place then started to grow on me a little. I had dinner in a lovely old French restaurant, and it was a relief to eat different food that, hopefully, wasn't going to send me to the shitter six times a day. I gorged on steak au poivre with frites, washed down with pastis, and felt a million times better in this little corner of France in South East Asia. After dinner, I retired to my bed and watched tv in the comfort of knowing I didn't have to get up early in the morning. Was I, after all, making a mistake leaving here so soon?

I got up at 11.30am on Saturday, and went for a walk. It was a lovely sunny day - utterly different to yesterday - and Vientiane looked a lot better for it. I began to be won over by the place. It is cute and charming in its own way, a mixture of different cultures and with a rich history. I had clearly been a bit too quick to judge it, too hasty to blame it for the rain and my general mood of the last couple of days.

In the afternoon, I was diven to the Thai border to catch my train to Bangkok. As we drove through the streets of Vietiane, which contained some great old buildings, I resolved to come back to Laos. The country is supposed to be the most relaxing to travel round in the region, and I had not done it justice by anyone's stretch of the imagination. The cost of coming here for such a short period of time and leaving so early was not insignificant, either.

After crossing the river into Thailand, I waited for the train in a great little bar opposite Nong Khai station. It was peaceful, the sun was shining brightly and the beer was ice cold. I may have been hasty leaving Laos, but I was not sad to be heading back to Thailand...

flooding

Siem Reap has been lashed with an incredible rain storm this evening. I have never seen anything like it before in my entire life.

Literally within minutes of it being calm and even a bit sunny, the winds came in and then brutal rain began lashing down. A lot of the roads are now flooded.

As I sit confined to my hotel, a couple of thoughts occur to me. Will my flight to Laos in the morning still run? And, even if it does, where the hell am I going to stay? After two days of painful online trying, I have still been unable to find a room that isn't either at the rock bottom or top end of the accommodation scale.

temples and stuff

Today I ventured just outside Siem Reap to the Temples of Angkor, capital of Cambodia's ancient Khemer empire.

The temples - built between the 9th and 13th centuries - are the reason so many tourists are beginning to flock to this part of the world and why Siem Reap is visibly becoming more developed.

Set in beautiful green countryside that was strangely reminiscent of England - apart from the monkeys running around, obviously - the temples are what remains of a lost city that was once home to one million people at a time when London had a population of 50,000.

Pictures do tend to speak louder than words with trips like this. And all I will add is that I had a pleasant time - apart from when it pissed it down. Another annoyance was the constant pestering from people trying to sell souvenirs, refreshments, t shirts and other shit. If these people could take no for an answer, I wouldn't mind. But they can't. And it is fucking annoying.

I have been feeling a bit down over the last 24 hours. Part of that has been due to illness - a meal last night has caused more trips to the bog than any I can remember. Part of it has been the bad weather here. And another, I guess, has been a bit of loneliness.

My mood also tends to pick up when I know I have the next few days' accommodation and travel sorted out. While having flexibility with my schedule has many advantages, there are down sides. These being that a lot of time spent in one place can be spent arranging to get to another in humid internet cafes with painfully slow connections. Another is that booking accommodation is not often as easy as it might sound. For example, I e-mailed a hotel in Vientiane, Laos, two days ago to try and book a room but have had no reply. Ditto with another. This is both frustrating and time consuming.

Right now I yearn to be back on the beach with absolutely nothing to do...

siem reap

Checked out of my hotel this morning. It had been a clean, decent and affordable place to stay. Although I was slightly amused by some of the rules they set (see above) which made it clear I was personally responsible for private affairs in my room 'such as girl, drug usage or other illegal activity of yours.' Quite.

Phnom Penh had been one hell of an experience. But I wasn't disappointed to be leaving today and heading to Cambodia's second city - Siem Reap.

There are various buses that link the two places, but I opted for a bit more comfort during the5-6 hour journey and instead went by car. My hotel did a pretty good deal for me that involved me staying with their other hotel in Siem Reap, and being driven there.

It was quite a journey. We set off at 9am - they had originally wanted to go at 7, but I refused and argued with them - and made our way out of Phnom Penh. Car journeys here are an, erm, experience. Cars and motorbikes seem to drive on whatever side of the road they feel like, and there were several occasions in the first half hour of our journey when I thought we were going to crash. It wasn't quite up there with the full-on Bangkok taxi ride experience, but it wasn't far off.

As we got into the Cambodian countryside, the roads got wider and the traffic was quieter. I now felt more relaxed and started to enjoy the scenery. In the car with me and the driver was the owner of the hotel, who was a good laugh and spoke good English. He even revealed he had been an interpreter for the United Nations when they had troops stationed in Cambodia for the first post-Pol Pot elections in 1993.

The conversation en route was mixed and entertaining. I was asked my opinion about why England had not qualified for Euro 2008, Tony Blair, cars and the cost of prostitutes in the UK compared to here - a subject, I will quickly add, he knew far more about than me.

It was also interesting to get an insight into the history of the places we drove through. We are approaching the rainy season here, and that makes it make or break time for some people. Lots of rain means lots of rice. A dry 'wet' period could spell disaster in some parts of Cambodia - hence the sight of UN trucks on some of the roads we passed along.

We stopped off for lunch in the town of Kompong Thom. It was a bit surreal. This place was in the middle of nowhere and I was the only westerner there. As I ate a pretty horrible beef noodle dish quite badly with chopsticks, my hosts joked that they were tempted to recommend to me a local speciality but decided against. I asked what it was. 'Deep fried spiders,' was the response...

We arrived in Siem Reap at around 2pm. It is what it is for what it is next to - the Temples of Angkor. The lure of the ancient temples has seen a tourism boom here, and plush hotels are springing up all over town. After dumping my stuff, I went for a wander around. This was a place I liked from the start. Cool little bars, great looking restaurants and not a tenth of the hassles and annoyances of Phnom Penh.

killing fields

Lonely Planet describes Phnom Penh thus: 'It's exotic, it's chaotic, it's beguiling, it's distressing, it's compulsive, it's repulsive.'

This guide may be rubbish at recommending hotels, but it's spot on with its description of the Cambodian capital. This really is a place that has the capacity to exhilarate you and appall you in equal measure.

Today I went out to the Killing Fields, the scene of where Pol Pot and the Khmer Rouge infamously murdered thousands and thousands of their own people after gaining control of the country in the 1970s.

The most chilling part is, obviously, the skulls piled on top of each other. You can detect how some people were killed - bullet wounds can be seen on some skulls. Others were beaten over the head to death to save bullets. Some people were actually buried alive - presumably to save on the effort of having to do anything at all.

It was, as you would expect, a pretty chilling sight. The rest of the fields, as they are now, do not give the impression of having been the place where genocide on an unbelievable scale was committed. In fact the place is very peaceful. Then occasionally you come across a sign that informs you of what was there previously, such as the place children were beaten to death against a tree.

As I walked around learning about the history of Cambodia, I was also given an uncomfortable insight into its present. Around a dozen or so children, who couldn't have been older than around six, incessantly begged me and other tourists for money. Begging by children is rife here - I estimate to have been approached by more than 30 a day - and it is really, really upsetting to say no to kids growing up in such poverty. But say no you have to - if I paid each of them and all the adult beggars here that come up to you, I could easily spend up to 100 US$ a day in handouts. The scale of the problem really is that high here. Plus the kids are often doing the work of the parents, who don't share the money they earn with them and deprive them of a school education in the process. It's a wretched situation, and although tourists are told they make it worse by giving into child beggars, that doesn't stop me from feeling like the biggest c**t in the world when I say no to them. And all of this was going on as I walked through fields where these kids' grandparents may well have been butchered.

As my taxi drove me away from the fields, I reflected on my experience so far in Cambodia and what I had just seen. On the one hand, this is a country on the up. Tourist numbers are increasing and with that comes greater prosperity. The people here are also genuinely warm, friendly and do tend to leave you alone if you don't want to get into a bloody taxi. That said, there are some huge problems.

I mentioned begging by kids. Well there's also begging from the disfigured and the maimed - victims of the thousands of landmines that remain in Cambodia following the civil war. Some of these people are also very young.

Whilst walking back to my hotel last night, I also got another insight into some of the more unsavoury activities out here. As endless people offered me taxis or motorbikes, one guy also asked if I wanted 'young girl'. I just walked away from the guy as quickly as I could, something I now regret as I should have reported him to somebody. I don't even want to speculate as to who his client was or how he knew her. Then shortly after that, another guy asked me if I wanted any 'Charlie'. Again I carried on walking as fast as I could. Cocaine in Cambodia has quite a reputation - for not being cocaine. What they sell is apparently in most cases very pure heroin. Bung that up your hooter and it may well be the last thing you do, as many backpackers find to their cost every year. The shocking thing is the people selling this shit must know it, but don't seem to care.

After visiting the killing fields I was driven to a museum of the genocide - a former prison. It is here you can see pictures of many of the dead, and even look at the clothes they wore or the conditions they lived in before they were murdered. I didn't hang around that long. There really is only so much human suffering I can spend an afternoon witnessing.

After all that, it's fair to say I needed a beer. I made my way to the Foreign Correspondents' Club - an expat hangout for journalists, diplomats and travellers. As I sat on the balcony looking out onto the river and the traffic below, a heavy rain storm lashed down down on the street with incredible ferocity. Then, after the rain had cleared, a main guided an elephant down the street, which merrily shat all over the floor while tourists laughed and took pictures.

Yup. Phnom Penh. It's beguiling, it's distressing and everything else Lonely Planet said. It's also, without question, unique and unforgettable. I'm now off to a restaurant in an old french colonial building for dinner...

Stop Press: I've just had my first Khmer style meal. It was an incredible mix of what you would call typical Asian food and other cultures, principally French. My starter was a massive plate of spicy sauage meat, huge chunks of garlic, ginger, red onion and chilli - accompanied by a Thai style salad. The main course was billed as noodles with pork, but came cold and in a salad dressing. The meal was at times delightful, and at others regugnant. The restaurant was lovely and relaxing, but full of loud Aussies. Yet again this city manages to to touch every emotion...

On my way from the restaurant to this internet cafe - where I am checking details of later destinations - I have again been offered various drugs by about six people in the space of two minutes. I think it's about time I retired to my hotel room to watch BBC World and have a welcome diet of unpredictability...

Phnom Penh

My flight from Bangkok to Phnom Penh was delayed by almost half an hour while we waited for the last passenger to bother to get on board. I've never really understood why they don't just stop people who are so late from getting on and remove their bags from the plane rather than disrupting the journeys of hundreds of others.

We were baking in the Bangkok heat while hanging around on the runway with the doors open for this person. He eventually got on the plane - looking worse for wear - and then out of all of the possible places on the plane he could have sat, he plonked himself down next to me. He immediately thrust out his hand and introduced himself and, although I'd like to think I'm a sociable kind of person, I really wasn't in the mood for this.

'Fuck me! I really thought I was going to miss this flight. Can't see why the staff are so pissed off though, these planes never leave on time. Where have you been travelling so far?
'I landed in Singapore about 10 days ago. Then I made my way up on the train through Malaysia and to some of the southern islands in Thailand. Not sure where I'll go after Cambodia yet.'
'How have you found Pattaya?'
'I haven't been there.'
'Isn't that where we are now?'
'No. We're in Bangkok.'

This guy was so out of it he didn't know where we were or what day it was. But, to be fair, he actually turned out to be a nice enough bloke with his heart in the right place. I've come across numerous people like him in Asia before - old style caners in their 40s who love to get out of it and enjoy all the temptations this part of the world can offer. It beats working for a living back home in their eyes, and every day invariably throws up some kind of memorable incident. He regaled me with stories about past visits to Cambodia. One included the sight of half a human body being dragged through the street by motorbike. An other was about eight monks murdering a tourist who stole something. 'This place is fucking mental. Be careful,' he advised.

My friend then turned the conversation to sex.

'Have you been going with the girls out here?'
'No.'
'Oh right. Have you got a girlfriend back home then?'
'No. They're just not my type.'

He looked at me as if I was mad. Obviously the thought someone could come to this part of the world for something other than sex just couldn't register.

It took less than an hour to get to Phnom Penh. After landing in the Cambodian capital, I had to complete some visa related bureaucracy before a driver from my hotel collected me. The first thing that struck me was the overwhelming heat - 35 degrees...

The journey from the airport to my hotel took around half an hour. It was quickly clear that Phnom Penh was utterly unlike some of the more developed parts of South East Asia. The roads seemed complete chaos and the streets incredibly ramshackle. I took an instant liking to the place.

I checked into my hotel around 5.30ish and have just spent a pleasant few hours drinking the local brew in various riverside bars for less than 50p a go. This place is quite underdeveloped, the hotels are very basic and there is a lot of poverty. That all said, there is something quite infectous about it. The people are incredibly warm, and I feel a billion times happier to be here than in the 'comforts' of faceless resorts like Phuket.

Bangkok

I'm currently sat in an internet cafe at Bangkok airport while I await my flight to Phnom Penh

If there is one thing I dislike about travelling, it is extremely early starts to the day.

Today I was awoken at 6.15am to get a taxi to Phuket Airport. I felt like shit, despite having a quiet one the previous evening. This time of the day is totally and utterly alien to me. The taxi left the hotel at 7am and it took us nearly an hour to reach the airport, a journey which would have been shorter if the driver hadn't bizarrely stopped at a petrol station to look at sunglasses for a few minutes. But buy no petrol...

Everything at the airport was quick and efficient, and it wasn't long before I was on board the 8.50 Air Asia flight to Bangkok. Although the journey was fine and afforded some great views, I couldn't stop yawning and felt generally awful.

Shortly after we landed in Bangkok, I was puking into a bin while waiting for my luggage, which has to go down as one of the more unedifying things I have done of late. After more spewing in the bogs, it became apparent that I was suffering from more than just a case of drowsiness. Indeed the four hours I then spent waiting for my flight to Phonom Penh included bouts of stomach pain.

A quick trip to Boots - yes, they are out here as well - and the purchase of a few tablets later, I started to feel better. In truth, it hadn't been a bad few hours waiting in any case. Bangkok's airport is vast, comfortable and spectacularly modern. In many ways it is a symbol of how this part of the world is becoming so increasingly competitive and successful.

in place of beauty

Ok. It's official. Phi Phi island is officially the most beautiful place I have ever been to. Gorgeous beaches, stunningly clear blue sea, fabulous food, amazing bars and affordable accommodation. Leaving would be difficult.

But leave is what I did do on Sunday morning after four nights on an island I could happily be stranded on forever. I spent Saturday afternoon floating in the sea, the evening on the beach sipping cocktails and watching various fire juggling antics. A big part of me wanted to stay, but I was concerned that the remaining two weeks of the holiday would just degenerate into one big piss up on the beach followed by another - and nothing else.

I caught the 9am boat over to Phuket, which was pretty damn horrific. The sea was choppy and the boat reeked of petrol. I spent the entire journey sipping water and trying not to puke up.

We arrived in Phuket at around 11am, where a taxi bus was waiting to take me on to Patong beach and my hotel. I had heard conflicting reports about Phuket, ranging from the indifferent to the incandescent. To be honest, I hadn't planned on making this place part of my trip. It just seemed easier to stop here a night before making my way up to Cambodia - the next destination - rather than trying to do it all from Phi phi in one day.

It was not long before I was yearning to return to Phi Phi. I took an instant dislike to Phuket the moment I got there. It seemed shabby, tacky and frequented by fat Germans. Which it, erm, is.

After checking in at my admittedly decent hotel, I went for a stroll. After four days of generally being left to my own devices, it was a bit disconcerting to get the full on Thai hussler treatment from all and sundry trying to flog taxis, t-shirts, speed boats and sex. I could not walk more than 30 seconds without someone trying to sell me something. I accept this is the way things are here, but the people I encountered today were insufferable. Women offering 'massages' - hookers, basically - would literally try and block me from walking down the pavement by thrusting their breasts into me. Blokes would try and shake your hand in an attempt to strike up a sales pitch for some dodgy bit of electrical equipment, and would become indignant when you refused...

Phuket is the Benidorm and Blackpool of Thailand. I thank God for the fact I have only to spend one night in this place. It really is just a sprawl of chain outlets and resorts catering for the desires of fat people.

It's funny how beach towns always bring out such conflictingly strong emotions in people. You can love a seaside place as much as another person hates it in a ferocity that doesn't exist when we talk about resorts. Maybe I'm just staying in a crap bit of Phuket and elsewhere lies destinations to die for, but I won't be hanging around to find out.

Off to Cambodia in the morning. What I would give to be back on Phi Phi though...

tits out

For some reason my camera has stopped working. It will turn on, I can view pictures - but am not allowed to take any more. Utterly bizarre. I would consult the instructions, but they are in Japanese as I bought the phone in Tokyo, and I threw them away in Sydney.

On the up side my phone has decided to start working again. I have no idea why or how. Anyway, without the ability to take new pictures - I plan to buy a new camera when I get to Phuket or Bangkok - I leave you instead with a promo for The Beach. The reason being, of course, that it was filmed here on Phi Phi.

The film must go a long way to explaining the high number of American tourists on this island. Of all the places I've been in Asia, I've never come across so many yanks. It's sad in a way that it takes an American film to get people from a country where just 12 per cent of the population even have passports to visit somewhere. Mind you it was Lord of the Rings that made me want to visit New Zealand.

Got absolutely shit faced last night and had a marvellous time. The atmosphere here is great - people just wander around the narrow streets, sipping beer and generally enjoying themselves. I sat on the beach for ages and just stared out at the moonlight water and the stunning surroundings. It was, for want of a better phrase, fucking orgasmic. In my drunken state, I started to ponder whether or not I should just stay here for another week rather than a few days. Perhaps I should forget other planned destinations, chill out here and then head over to the full moon party on Ko Pha Nang on June 18. Tempting and appealing as it sounds, I remain determined to visit Cambodia and Vietnam.

Spent today on the beach. The weather was glorious. I was amazed by the amount of British and Irish girls sunbathing topless. Amazed because anyone who has done even the most basic of research into visiting this part of the world will know it really isn't the done thing over here. The locals won't say anything - they want your money and custom too much - but are probably offended. Why do women have to get their tits out, exactly? I might be wrong, but I'm guessing they are not going to parade them on the High Street back home, so why the need to tan them? I've managed to avoid the need or urge to wander around with my cock out on the beach while on holiday, so why can't birds do the same with their baps? Also, while I have about as much sexual interest in a pair of tits as I do in a tortoise, I can't help but stare at them when someone has them out. This can lead to very uncomfortable situations where women ponder whether or not I'm perving them up. Just put the jugs away, girls, please.

Have seen quite a few Thai blokes walking around in Man City shirts, obviously due to their ex PM now owning the club. He's even opened up a club shop in Bangkok. I can think of many, many things I would like to do while in this country. Visiting a Man City shop ain't one of them.

paradise

I checked out of my 'paradise' hotel after just one night. There was no way on earth I was going to repeat the late night walk back to it again, which was more akin to something you normally see on the Discovery channel.

After catching a taxi boat to the main village, I sauntered over to the imposing looking Hotel Phi Phi to see if they had any rooms. After a bit of a queue, I landed a great room with a glorious view (see picture above), huge balcony, good facilities, close to all the bars and restaurants. And it was cheaper.

I then spent the afternoon just strolling around this absurdly beautiful island. It is a place of such immaculate gorgeousness I did very little other than just glare at the surroundings for much of the day. Certainly the hassle of damaging my phone last night quickly receded from memory. In a place like this, you could tell me I was the lovechild of Richard Littlejohn and I wouldn't care. Ok that might be pushing it a bit...

take me to my beach

If there is one thing I have discovered during my various trips around the World, it is that the advice offered in Lonely Planet guides is more often than not complete bollocks.

Allow me to offer my latest case for the prosecution. The South East Asia Lonely Planet recommended only three hotels to stay in on Phi Phi Island, one of which is the affordable and pleasant sounding Paradise Resort. As I didn't have the time to trawl through lots of web sites to decide where to stay, I plumped for this option...

I arrived by boat taxi. The resort is on a beautiful white sanded beach, and the word 'paradise' is completely in keeping with its location. The facilities certainly were not, and my 'Superior' room was easily the worst of the hotels that I have stayed in thus far. It is not, however, this that was the problem. I am on a budget and thus cannot have expensive tastes.

After dumping my bag and a quick shower, I set off along the beach towards the island's main village. There are no roads or cars in Phi Phi - the whole place is a national park. As the clear blue sea lapped over my tired feet on the glorious white beach, I struggled to think of a more spectacular setting I had ever seen in my life. Then as the beach went round a corner, I noticed I had to climb over quite a lot of rocks in order to progress further. A lot of rocks. Then after walking further along the beach there were more rocks. This was going to be interesting to negotiate later on...

After a fantastic meal on a beach side restaurant, I knocked back quite a few Chang beers in a lively little bar. It was good fun. A couple of English gay boys were running around the place in bras and other items of women's clothing they had obviously stolen from someone's balcony, for which they were rewarded with free shot after free shot from the bar staff. Perhaps I should try that in the bars around Westminster after work, or maybe even next time I'm back in Norfolk...

Anyway, although I had a decent night, I couldn't relax properly because I was worried about the walk back to my hotel. Ar 10pm I called it a night and decided to head back. Surely they couldn't expect people to negotiate the route I took in the pitch dark. Surely they would have realised people would want to go into town at night and would have some kind of safe route back...

An hour later I was wading through a forest swearing to myself at the top of my voice. There was indeed a different way back, but quite frankly it would have been better if I had fucking swam it. I managed to climb over most of the rocks - albeit with difficulty - using my phone as a torch. Then I slipped and fell into shallow water. With my phone in my hand. It very quickly died on me...

As my mood switched from one of determination to get back to blind fury, I noticed the next set of rocks I had to negotiate were deep under water now as the tide had come in. There was no way I was going to risk that. Although I had just slipped, the rocks were not sharp and the water was shallow. There was never going to be any danger there, but this was very different.

As I contemplated going back and finding another hotel, I noticed there was a lit pathway going up the side of the inland rock face. It was clearly an alternative route, but it was so steep you basically had to pull yourself up the side of it by rope. I didn't allow myself time to think about it and just clambered my way up. At the top, I then had to wade through forest land and all sorts of weird and wonderful insects running all over the place. Then there was another rope, to help you down the other side. It was like some absurd activity in fucking I'm a Celebrity Get Me Out of Here.

Finally, I made it back to the hotel. Without a functioning phone. I poured myself a gigantic glass of Thai brandy and resolved to check out of this place in the morning.

ko phi phi

Woke up this morning, checked out of my Krabi hotel and had absolutely nowhere to go.

I had tried to book a hotel on the internet the previous night on the nearby island of Ko Phi Phi, but no confirmation had come through and I was basically stranded. Eventually I tracked down a phone number for where I wanted to stay and just rang them to make the arrangements. Quite why I didn't do this in the first place, I have no idea.

I liked Krabi, but not its nightlife. As it's the low season, there are fewer tourists and this subsequently makes the locals even more desperate for your trade. I couldn't walk for five seconds without someone asking if I wanted to come into their restaurant, jump into a taxi or hire a bloody motorbike. And if I did venture into some of the better looking bars, a plethora of Thai girls would swarm around me and try to make conversation. Even when it became obvious I wasn't that interested in having a pointless chat in broken English with them, they would then suggest playing a game like Connect 4 or something. It was easier just to drink in my hotel room.

Despite some of the annoyances, this is a beautiful part of the world and the people are very nice. They are just dependant on you to make a living. Last night while in an internet cafe I witnessed some appalling racial abuse aimed at the local owner by an English guy who decided to take issue with being charged an insignificant amount of money for something trivial like printing a document. Egged on by his mate, he shouted until the Thai guy relented and waived the 20 baht charge (20 bahts is roughly 30p). As they left, the poor guy was subjected to various insults starting with the word 'black' and ending with other words such as those used to describe somebody without a father. It was disgraceful. I felt guilty for not saying anything, and it is at times like this I really wish I was hard as nails, could beat people like that up and then leave a little calling card in their pocket informing them they'd just been done over by a poof. Unfortunately I haven't had a fight since I was 14 and don't think I would have come out of it looking my best.

Anyway, anyway, I got the boat over to Phi Phi this afternoon. This is a stunningly beautiful island, and I am looking forward to a few days of total relaxation...

krabi

In the last 24 hours I have ate fantastic food, guzzled lots of cheap booze, marvelled at incredible views, been harassed by prostitutes and have visited the bog so many times I've used up two toilet rolls.

Yup, I'm in Thailand. At Ao Nang beach in Krabi, to be precise, and enjoying every minute. After a shit load of travelling since I left London last Thursday - which seems like an age away - it's nice to be at a beach resort where I don't have to do anything.

It's really quiet here, which is nice in a way and eerie in another. The place has dozens of hotels, but it's the low season and not very busy. This benefits me as I am staying in a really nice hotel for less than 20 quid a night, but also means some bars and restaurants are almost deserted in the evening.

I'm staying here for one more night (Tuesday)before getting the boat over to Ko Phi Phi. Although it is probably a bit too quiet for my liking, I'm not missing the hordes of 'Britpackers'. A conversation I had with one on the way here yesterday confirmed that much for me. It was with a girl called Kelly, aged 20 and from Blackpool, travelling with her boyfriend Dave, also 20, and from Birmingham. She asked where I was going to after Krabi.

'I'll probably visit some of the islands for a week or so, then I might get a flight from Phuket straight over to Cambodia, if I can.'

'We've been to Cambodia. If you go to Siam Reap and do the temples and stuff, trust me you only need one day there.'

'Really? The Temples of Angkor have been called the eighth wonder of the world. Most people say you need a few days there.'

'Yeah, but when you've seen one temple you've seen em' all, know what I mean?'

It's not often that I'm lost for words, but on this occasion I was. Presumably if this person ever visited the Great Wall of China it would be a waste of time, because obviously if you've seen one wall, you've seen them all. Travel really is lost on these people.

Anyway, I've not exactly had a cultural day myself. Unless you count views like the one in the above photo while I sip cocktails...

my arse hurts

I thought that would get your attention.

Anyway, almost 22 hours it took me to get from Kuala Lumpur to Krabi. 22 fucking hours.

I set off from KL at 20.45 on Sunday having had a very brief but enjoyable stop in Malaysia's capital city. I was getting the overnight sleeper train up into Thailand, and I felt an almost school boyish excitement about it all. This would be the first time I had ever slept in a bed on public transport, and I was intrigued to see what it would be like. If that makes sense.

At first glance, my coach seemed seemed utterly uninviting. It was made up of long rows of double decker bunk beds, and I wondered what kind of experience I was letting myself in for. In fact it turned out to be one of the most enjoyable journeys I have ever had. Although the carriage was a glorified dormitory, I could draw a curtain which gave me complete privacy and allowed me to retreat into my own little world (see pic above). As the train chugged its way into the Malaysian night, I chilled out on the bed listening to my ipod, reading a book and knocking back vodka and cokes...

I didn't sleep that well due to the train stopping and starting a lot, but I was so grateful to be in a bed. How I had longed for this comfort over the years on flights and other unbearable journeys.

I woke up around 7ish and my first sight was an amazing view of the Malaysian countryside. It was glorious, but I was conscious of the fact we had another four hours to go before we reached our destination and so I had to - perversely - lay on my other side, turn my back on the view and mentally pretend I was somewhere else in order to get back to sleep!

After some predictably over complicated bureaucratic crap at the Thai border, we eventually arrived at the town of Hat Yai around noon. This is the town for getting connecting buses to various islands, and it was immediately obvious the place had little else going for it.

As I came out of the station, I teamed up with a fellow traveller who was heading the same place as me - Krabi, near Ko Phi Phi and Phuket - and set about finding transport. We settled on a bus company opposite the station, who sold us seats on a soon to depart bus to Krabi which we were reliably informed would arrive at our destination in four hours...

Six hours later I was sat on the back of a rickshaw -still not at my destination - after the twat of a driver basically couldn't be arsed to complete the final leg of the journey and bundled us into a taxi. After almost a complete day travelling, it was a pretty uncomfortable experience. Hence the fact my arse hurts.

It had not been a pleasant bus ride. Fortunately, I was with a girl from Brighton who provided a few comedy moments. She had just been to the Borneo jungle, and so I asked what it had been like as this had been somewhere I'd contemplated visiting...

'Fucking full on, I couldn't wait to get the fuck out. I couldn't work out what I was doing there - other than to tell people I'd been to a jungle - and call me an untypical traveller if you like, but I got sick and fucking tired of pulling leaches off my neck and having toads jump on my tits in the shower.'

Not to self - jungles are not your bag.

like it or lumpur it

I had just a day to spend in Kuala Lumpur before getting an overnight train to Thailand.

Having perused my guidebook, the most obvious destination seemed to be the city's Twin Towers, which up until very recently were the tallest buildings in the world. It would, if nothing else, make for some great pictures from the top. So I checked out of hotel around 11am and got the efficient, cheap and clean metro train the few stops up to the nearest station...

The towers (see above) were indeed an impressive sight. I was really looking forward to the view from the top. Imagine my disappointment then to get to the ticket office and find that, despite tours of the top floor running for another five hours, they had sold out of passes for the day. I couldn't quite work out why this was, but hey ho. This was one view I wouldn't be experiencing.

Feeling a bit forlorn, I strolled into the huge shopping complex beneath the towers. It was scarily huge and possessed so many familiar stores I couldn't quite believe I was in South East Asia. They were all there - Topshop, the Body Shop, Pizza Hut, Prada, Nandos ... I could go on and on. It didn't come as a huge surprise, having previously witnessed a Tesco in Thailand and a Subway in Goa, I was well aware of how Western companies had invaded this part of the world. I also don't have particularly strong feelings about it. If it's ok for me to buy clothes from Topshop, why should I turn my nose up at here and somehow expect people to be different? No, what really pissed me off was the sight of so many westerners snacking in places like Dunkin Donuts and stuffing their faces in American themed burger bars. I don't get it. Why come here if you are just going to enjoy a slightly cheaper version of what you can get every day at home?

Anyway, rant over. It was still an impressive place to walk round the shops, and I even managed to come across a bank with a Western Union facility. This enabled me to transfer some much needed funds across from my bank account (see posts below about my banking difficulties). It was worth a trip to the shopping mall just to do this, and I felt considerably more relaxed afterwards.

After a pleasant walk I then made my way back to the Chinatown area, where I had a terrific dinner washed down with a couple of cold beers. I sat for around two hours just watching the variety of different people stroll past, taking in the atmosphere. This was more like it...

the never ending journey

I checked out of my hotel in Singapore around noon and then had a bit of a stroll around.

To be honest, this city seemed to be nothing but continual pristine streets and not a lot else. It was a bit like some kind of upper middle class housewife's wet dream. Or something like that. So I made my way back to Little India where I had been staying - a truly authentic Asian part of town - and got myself a plate of rice and a pint of Tiger. I wouldn't have minded exploring Singapore a bit more if I was travelling longer, but on a three-and-a-half week trip, it was time to go.

I arrived at Singapore Station in plenty of time for the 15.30 train to Kuala Lumpur, which was just as well considering the absurd bureaucracy I had to go through at the passport control. When I finally did get on the train, it didn't leave until 16.15 - 45 minutes behind schedule.

The train was comfortable, albeit a bit shabby, and was at least air conditioned. As it made its way through the Singapore suburbs, I couldn't help but look out for the relics of Britain's imperial past here. There is a suburb called Somerset, streets called things like Dorset Road and so on.

As we were about to cross into Malaysia, the train stopped at a station. We were then all ordered off the train and into a building, which was Malaysian passport control. Given that we were still actually in Singapore, I couldn't for the life of me understand why this little exercise couldn't have taken place at the station when we had to show our passports to leave in the first place. It was bloody annoying. After half an hour stood waiting around while sniffer dogs and the Malaysia cops went up and down the train carriage, we were finally let back on and set off again.

The journey then took us through the green and lush Malaysian countryside, which was incredibly relaxing and pleasant. As it was a Saturday afternoon and a long distance train ride, it would have been rude not to have a drink or two. Well, actually it would have been - they don't sell booze on these services, nobody else was drinking and although there was nothing to say consuming alcohol was illegal, I think it was safe to assume that it was. Anticipating this, I discreetly brought on board a small supply and poured it into an empty coke can each time I went to the bog. Nobody was ever the wiser, and I enjoyed a nice relaxing little livener...

We were scheduled to arrive in Kuala Lumpur, the capital of Malaysia, at 22.05. An hour after that we were still on the train, hurtling through the middle of nowhere, with no explanation from anybody as to where we were or why we were delayed. On several occasions I thought we were heading through the suburbs of Kuala Lumpur, only to be disappointed and discover it was some non-descript town not even listed in my Lonely Planet guide. It had got to the stage now where I had been on this train so long I couldn't bring myself to read another page of a book or listen to another song on my ipod.

Finally, just before midnight, we arrived in Kuala Lumpur. The train station was incredibly big and modern, and from there I got a taxi to my hotel in Chinatown. I checked in, bought a couple of cans of Tiger, went up to my room, turned the air con on and collapsed on my bed exhausted.

start as you mean to go on?

Well, I've arrived safe in sound in Singapore.

That's the good news. Having checked into my basic but pleasant and clean hotel, I did what any good son should do after a long trip - text their mum to let them know all is well (they like this sort of thing). No sooner had I done so and started to run a shower, my phone bleeped to indicate I had a message. Surely my mother's text sending prowess had not got this good - even a 14-year-old using every abbreviation of the English language known to mankind couldn't reply in that time. Indeed it wasn't her - it was my bank, HSBC, asking me to call their fraud department urgently...

To cut a long story short, someone has copied my debit card. The bank were calling to say they had consequently put a block on my account. No money has been taken fortunately, but obviously there is a risk some thieving bastard will try and do so soon. The obvious problem with freezing my account and ordering a new card is that I am, erm, in Singapore...

In order to get my hands on my own money I have to arrange a Western Union transfer. This should not be a problem as there are plenty of outlets in SE Asia, but it is a right royal pain in the arse and not the start to my holiday that I either expected or wanted.

Anyway, the journey over here was relatively straightforward. I indulged in my last ever legal drink on the London Underground before Boris' booze ban comes in on Sunday, and got to Heathrow Terminal 4 in plenty of time for my 10pm flight.

I found Terminal 4 a slightly odd place. It's only 20 years old, but has a very tired and shabby look about it. I waited for my flight in the 'comfort' of a Wetherspoons. Why is it that all of these pubs - no matter where they are situated - stink of stale beer and puke? Actually, don't answer that.

My Qantas flight was rammed, principally with people going onto Australia from Singapore. Unfortunately this meant I could not get my favoured aisle seat and was instead wedged in between a fat bird and a weird bloke (so weird was this bloke that for the entire 13 hour journey he did not watch any in flight entertainment or read anything. He just sat there. I don't know about you, but I find that slightly strange).

After throwing back a few complimentary G&Ts, I managed to fall asleep relatively easily. The Qantas in flight entertainment had barely changed from when I was in Australia last year, so there was little incentive to try and keep awake.

As the plane approached Singapore, I felt daunted and tired. I always feel like this when I'm about to arrive in Asia. The thoughts of all the dangers, annoyances and cultural differences suddenly come to the forefront of my mind and I start to wonder why I didn't just get a package holiday to Spain instead. I should add these considerations are temporary and a result of 13 hours crammed on a plane next to someone who is probably a sex offender. Speaking of which, I saw a young couple 'sneak' into the toilets during the flight, presumably to join the famed Mile High Club. I'm not a member of this club - unless you count having one off the wrist - and I've never really seen the attraction of it. There's not exactly enough room to make it enjoyable.

Anyway, after landing at the uber modern and clean Singapore Airport, I caught the train across town to where I was staying. Singapore is a scarily strict and tidy place, even chewing gum is illegal on the trains, and I must admit it made me feel a bit uncomfortable. It wouldn't have surprised me if I had been given an on the spot fine just for bringing my wretched presence to the place.

My hotel was in the Little India part of Singapore, and this was an altogether more welcoming place. Teaming with backpackers, it is quite literally a little bit of India plonked in the middle of sprawling Singapore. Spicy aromas waft around the streets, and there are a few nice little bars to chill out in - which I did.

Anyway, it's now almost time for me to head off to the train station and my next destination - Kuala Lumpur, the capital of Malaysia.

fuck the credit crunch

I don't think a map has ever inspired me to go on holiday before.

Amazing clubs, glorious weather and captivating culture all help of course. But it was when I set eyes - randomly while bored at work - on the image above that my summer holiday plans fell into place.

I've been to Thailand and Indonesia before, and have longed to return to this part of the world where you can satisfy almost any pleasure for absurdly low prices. A random Google search one day showed this was also a part of the world that could be explored easily by rail, and then it was just a case of getting the cash together and booking the leave.

There could not possibly be a better time to get out of the country. I'm sick and tired of the so called 'credit crunch', tossers complaining about petrol prices and the rise in food bills. Clearly if things carry on as they are, the price of Olives and Rocket will get so high we will see full scale riots in every Waitrose up and down the fucking country.

As you might guess, I really do need this holiday.