The town of Samboan is only 45 minutes away from Oslob by bus. Our hotel is a few kilometres out of town, but the good thing about rural buses in the Philippines is that they always drop you off exactly where you need to be. Eden, the owner of Carolina del Mar, comes out to greet us and has even practiced our names. We feel at home already! Her place on the coast of the Visayan Sea is a little piece of paradise.
As we’re only spending the one night here on our way to Moalboal, the plan is to relax and go for a swim in the clear blue waters. What we didn’t know is that Samboan is great for snorkeling too: there’s loads of (live) coral and even recent sightings of a giant turtle. No need to tell us twice! Since missing out on it in Sri Lanka, the giant turtle has been our unicorn, the one that got away, so before our bags hit the ground we’re already in the water!
As it turns out, today again is not the day we’re swimming with a turtle, but we still have the best afternoon exploring the wonderful coral reef.
Not being a regular Steve Zissou (or even a Ned for that matter), I haven’t a clue about the type of fish I’m seeing, but they’re pretty colourful, plus I find one more type of star fish to add to my now growing collection (of photos I mean, before you get any ideas).
At the end of a relaxing day, while sipping a cold beer on the patio, we both wish we could stay here a bit longer, but our flight to Palawan Island is coming up soon. First we’re heading north to Moalboal to swim with the sardines.
In under three hours we fly from Hong Kong to Cebu International Airport. After the fast pace we set ourselves in Sri Lanka, India and China, we’re ready to slow down and enjoy the amazing beaches of Philippines!
At midday we take a bus from the airport into town and then another bus to Cebu pier, where the fast ferry takes us across to Tagbilaran on Bohol Island. We try to use public transport as much as we can, which can take time getting used to, but things here run pretty smoothly from the get go. Though the traffic in Cebu city is painstakingly slow, we have no trouble finding our way to and getting on the ferry. We land in Tagbilaran by sunset and get a three-wheeler taxi (basically a motorbike with sidecar) to drive us to the hotel where we arrive in the dark.
We’re spending five nights on Panglao Island, which is a small island to the South of Bohol. Our hotel is located in a secluded area on the island and after arriving in total darkness we’re pleasantly surprised by the view from our hut when we wake up the next morning!
After the arrival of Ferdinand Magellan, Philippines became a colony of Spain (1521-1898) until it was sold to the United States, which led to the Philippine-American war and finally the country’s declaration of independence in 1946.
Evidence of Spanish influence is mostly found in the architecture of old Christian churches (and a lot of inspirational biblical quotes found on buildings and cars) and also in the food. Not far from our hotel we find a great Spanish restaurant, endorsed as authentic even by the Spanish and Argentinian guests at our hotel. As for the American influence, besides Filipino pretty much everyone in Philippines speaks good English, which makes getting around easy, and you’re never far away from a fast food joint.
We rent a scooter from the hotel to set out exploring the island. It’s my first time riding one, but my initial nerves soon calm when the years of experience riding bicycles kicks in. It definitely helps that Filipinos appear to be considerate drivers.
Alona beach is Panglao’s main attraction but we last about 30 minutes here, as it’s pretty much overrun by tourists and touts selling boat tours and massages. On the bright side it has a good selection of restaurants and plenty of cheap boozers, plus a surf boarding dog!
Spending time at the hotel instead is hardly punishment though. The crystal clear, warm water is great for swimming and we can finally put the snorkel sets I have been carrying around for 3,5 months to good use!
Evenings at the hotel get pretty lively with staff, friends of staff and guests (including a Russian with his younger Filipino girlfriend staying here longterm) all gathered drinking around the Wifi area. Things get a little awkward when Lauren is on the phone to her dad and two of the local girls start shouting “Daddy! Daddy! I love you daddy!” while trying to take over the conversation. Think I’ll be giving the fermented coconut wine they are gulping down a wide berth..
We’re having a blast so far in Philippines and feel sad to say Bohol Sea goodbye, while at the same time we’re excited to visit Loboc next for a few days on the river!
Our journey south towards sunny weather brings us to the ancient town of Fenghuang. Also known as Phoenix, this old town on the Tuojiang River was built in 1704 during the Qing Dynasty and has preserved its appearance ever since.
Fenghuang, or Chinese phoenix, is a bird found in East Asian mythology that reigns over all other birds. Like the Phoenix rising from its ashes, Fenghuang has been reborn as a touristic hotspot.
Originally a Miao settlement, Fenghuang is a gathering place for Miao and Tujia ethnic minority. Not far from town, the southern part of the Great Wall of China was originally built there to prevent the Han Chinese from invading the Miao, while nowadays Han are the ruling ethnic majority. A few older women we see selling flower garlands still wear the Miao traditional clothing, although this may be more of a gimmick for tourists than cultural preservation.
Walking through the ancient town, most of the old houses have been converted to shops, restaurants and hotels and during the mornings and at night, when the town is brightly lit up and all the bars are open, Fenghuang is overrun with tour groups. From our balcony we’re having fun watching all the Chinese tourists dressed up in traditional attire pose for photos.
Perhaps the best way to experience some of the ancient way of life is to walk by the river around midday, when the tours have all gone. The streets become deserted but for a handful of cats and dogs napping in the shade and local men fishing by the side of the river, with the occasional gondola passing by.
The unique wooden houses (Diajiaolou) built along the riverbank have been designed to protect from flooding and appear to be hanging over the river.
On the banks food is prepared by the numerous restaurants in much the same way as it has for centuries. A local favourite is fish Miao-style: fish pickled for 3 weeks until the bones are soft, inside a container of special soup, rice powder and sweet corn powder. Alternatively you can pick just about any animal, living or dead, from the aquariums and cages stacked up in front of the restaurants.
A pig’s face and some honeycombs.A couple bamboo rats.
While we’re checking them out, one very smart bamboo rat pretends to be dead so we won’t buy it and eat it, but then one of the waiters comes running out and pokes it with a stick until it starts moving again. Wake up you, there’s customers! Way too cute to eat though, they’re like giant hamsters.
It’s nice to get lost for the afternoon walking around the narrow, winding streets of the old town, with plenty more to discover. We bear witness to some locals’ karaoke session in the public park and eat some of the best rice noodles we’ve had on our travels.
All in all we had a good time in Fenghuang. Slowly our journey through China is beginning to draw to a close. Next up we’re travelling further south still to the city of Guilin.
On the 23rd we are starting our journey to get from Emeishan to the Avatar Mountains of Zhangjiajie. The first step is getting the train to Chongqing, another one of China’s mega-cities and starting point of the Yangtze river cruise. We’re spending the night here at a nice-looking hostel called Lonely Village, located on the corner of where the city’s two rivers meet.
The hostel is a little bit hard to find. After getting off at the metro stop, we turn into a small alleyway where steep steps lead us through an area which can only be described as ‘little China’, so completely hidden away from daylight by the towering skyscrapers around it that it seems to be indoors. We carefully climb down the slippery stairs past shopkeepers performing their trade out on the steps, small groups of people sat down gambling or gossiping over lunch and kids running about, while evading the men and women carrying heavy loads up and down, which is a pretty amazing sight. Some of the old boys (or packmules) are seriously ripped! The stairs spill onto another street where we’re quite literally boxed in to stacks and stacks of giant boxes.
After finding a way out, and around the skyscrapers, the city suddenly opens opens up and there she is, Yangtze River!
We’re at our destination: a humongous apartment building consisting of three towering skyscrapers by the side of the river. It just doesn’t seem to have an entrance..
After some serious searching we manage to creep into the building through an inconspicuous looking carpark, past shops and restaurants, to find a secure door to the lobby of tower number 3. Naturally we don’t have the code. Some tailgating later, one of the many elevators in the lobby takes us up to the 50th floor, to the hostel, which is where today’s orienteering exercise is brought to a successful end.
Our effort gets rewarded, as we’re given an instant upgrade to our room for no apparent reason and it’s pretty great: floor-to-ceiling glass window the length of the room with the most amazing view of the river!
Better yet, the hostel has a shared kitchen we can use, plus a French supermarket around the corner, selling everything required to make a mac and cheese dinner, much to a certain someone’s delight. Happy wife, happy life, as they say in India!
The next morning our journey continuous eastwards to Yichang in the Hubei Province. Essentially we’re following the same route as the big cruise ships on the Yangtze, but on a budget, by train, which, as it turns out is a journey spent mostly inside tunnels..
The city of Yichang is located near one of the more scenic spots on the Yangtze, the so-called Three Gorges, created by the dam of the same name. The dam has flooded all the orginal villages in the area, but China wouldn’t be China if it wouldn’t build fake replacements, along with actors in traditional attire playing the flute for the tourist boats and even performing a wedding ceremony by the water for your ‘authentic’ Yangtze village experience, the ‘Tribe of the Three Gorges’.
In contrast, the area where we’re staying in Yichang offers a more realistic, though be it not necessarily better, experience of China. There’s a pungent smell in the air, which is a mixture of freshly butchered chickens from the guy that helps us find the hotel, and shops around the hotel that sell everything from live frogs to dog skulls to pigs trotters. Not related to the smell (or the dog skulls I hope!), there’s a guy at the nearby underpass selling cute little poodles out of a cardboard box, don’t see that every day either..
Our hotel is a definitely *not* a breath of fresh air: Facilities include a variety of mold, bloodstained pillows, termites, and a flooded toilet. At night, it’s *the* place for locals to meet and argue.
It never rains but it pours literally applies to our Yichang visit when the weather gods decide to add moisture to misery. We decide to give the Three Gorges a miss because of the unrelenting rain and are happy to continue our journey south to reach Zhangjiajie.
Sunday marks a big step in our 7 months on the road. We’re waking up at 5AM to travel 2,500km from Cochin in the south of India way up to Agra in the northern state of Uttar Pradesh. While the train to New Delhi takes 3 days (not including delays) our flight takes us there in just 3 hours, after which another 3 hours by train sees us to the home of the Taj Mahal!
While the south of India is known for being pretty easy-going, the north on the other hand is a lot more intense. The same way that Sri Lanka was a great introduction to South India, we figured South India would ease us into Rajasthan/Uttar Pradesh. Let’s hope it does!
Arriving at Delhi airport things already move at a much quicker pace. In less than half an hour we clear security, retrieve our luggage and get on board the metro to the train station. Delhi’s urban area is the second largest in the world and with over 26 million inhabitants it dwarfs Scotland and the Netherlands’ total combined! A milky white veil of smog covers the sky (it might be a nice day, we’re not quite sure?) but we’re not planning on hanging about.
In Alleppey, Yeti, our new friend from Delhi has shared some interesting stories about travelling in the north, which has prepared us at least a little for the scams, poverty and selfies we’re about to encounter at Delhi train station today.
We have already been asked to pose for a few selfies in India, but in the south it was usually families taking photos with us, and we both quite enjoy the idea of randomly ending up in the odd family album. In the north it’s an entirely different game: It’s almost always a guy on his own, or a group of guys, who essentially want to take a picture with Lauren so they can boast about it to others later. On the short walk between the metro and the train station we stupidly agree to one picture with a guy and seconds later we’re being pure fenced in by a crowd of men all waving their phones at us! Not sure where those pictures will end up, not in a family album I suspect. Ah the price you pay for being a famous blogger! 😉
The poverty is a bit more difficult to deal with. Though it’s only midday, being at Delhi train station is like being on the worst imaginable version of a night bus back home: People are lying sprawled out on the ground everywhere, drunks try to talk to you and ask for money, there’s no seats, it smells of raw sewage, and the floors are sticky. Now add to that some serious humidity, heavy bags, selfies, an entirely illogical station layout with severe lack of sign posting and kids following you around begging, that just about sums up the experience.
Similar to the selfies, we’ve been advised to ignore anyone asking for money. Begging is a big business in India, often run by cartels and it is said some beggars go as far as to maim themselves just to make more money, pretty gruesome stuff.. In Sri Lanka, by a local’s example, we’ve given money to the odd beggar, in North India begging is a lot more widespread. Between the time spent at the station and the train journey to Agra alone I’m asked for money by at least ten different people, but clearly it’s only tourists they engage.
Then finally there is scams. Just before the train arrives to Agra, we’re asked for our tickets by a random guy in a shirt, who’s clearly not the conductor. A friendly Sikh we’ve been sharing our carriage with quickly tells him what I assume is something along the lines of: Beat it, these two are with me, as he points to us and then himself, and the guy legs it. Scams are rife in the north so we better get wise to it quickly. The cheekiest one we’ve heard so far is from another tourist who was told to pay 1,000 rupees for a 20 rupee bottle of water!
When we arrive at the hostel we can conclude it’s been a successful day, we’re in Agra!
Taj Mahal
In Agra we’re visiting two major sights, both of them buildings from the Mughal era. First up on our list is the famous Taj Mahal on the banks of the river Yamuna, one of the big ticket items in India and voted one of the Seven New Wonders of the World.
Once again we get an early start to our day to arrive at the site before sunrise. Our hostel is a convenient 10 minute walk away from the Taj, which was commissioned in 1632 by Mughal emperor Shah Jahan to house the tomb of his favourite wife, Mumtaz Mahal, also housing the tomb of Shah Jahan himself. At its height, the Mughal empire was one of the largest empires in the history of South Asia, and the Taj Mahal is definitely impressive!
Taj monkey, a second before it lunged itself at Lauren
Agra Fort
In the afternoon we visit Agra Fort. This was the main residence of the emperors of the Mughal Dynasty until 1638. Once in ruins, it was rebuilt in red sandstone by Mughal emperor Akbar by 1573, and later partly remodeled in white marble by Akbar’s grandson Shah Jahan to match the nearby Taj Mahal.
Tomorrow we’ll be travelling to our first of the three painted cities, Jaipur in Rajasthan!
Today is Thiru Onam (Sacred Onam Day), the most important day of the annual harvest festival in Kerala. Yesterday the hotel owner has left to Alleppey for a family celebration so we’re locking up after ourselves before travelling by bus to Munnar.
We hear the legend of King Mahabali aka the Demon King, whose spirit visits Kerala at Onam: Mahabali once ruled the entire world and his reign was one of peace and prosperity: All of his subjects had a roof over their head and enough to eat, and there was no division based on caste or class. He was so loved by his people they started saying Thank the King, instead of Thank the Gods, which naturally didn’t go down too well with the latter. And so it was that Vishnu decided to take on the form of a little boy and visit the King to end his rule.
Upon their meeting, the king, known for his generosity, told the little boy he could have anything he wanted. The boy then asked for three feet of land, which was granted. It was then that Vishnu grew from a little boy into to a gigantic figure, who measured the Earth using one foot, and the entire universe with the next. Mahabali, knowing that his time had come, let Vishnu place his third foot on his head, causing him to drown in the netherworld. The king’s final wish was to return once every year to make sure his people are still prosperous and happy. Today people celebrate Onam by purchasing new clothes for their children and elders and sharing a big feast with family.
After hearing no division based on caste or class, suddenly something clicks. We’ve seen communist symbols all over Kerala: the hammer and sickle, portraits of Che and Fidel. It makes a lot of sense now. And communism to an extent seems to work here. For instance we’re told that poverty in Kerala is less compared to the rest of India. Though partly because of tourism, and partly because a lot of Keralans have jobs in the Middle East, but also because the state creates jobs. The state ferries have been an absolute joy, and every major town has a District Tourism Promotion Council office, but perhaps the weirdest initiative is that the state employs tuktuk drivers, who, for a nominal fee, take you to all the major tourist sights in an area, and receive extra payment in kind if they can get you to agree to enter either a state run spice garden or tea shop. You don’t even have to buy anything, simply stepping in to the shop means rice for your tuktuk driver!
So when we walk to the bus station in Kumily, preparations for Onam have already begun and everyone’s in their Sunday best. Munnar in the Western Ghats is about a hundred km north, which should be about a 4 hour drive over winding mountain roads, but unfortunately, due to heavy rainfall which has caused a landslide to block off the main road, our bus is stopping at Pooppara, a tiny little village about 30km from Munnar. After a few attempts we find a local bus to take us on the scenic 60km route to Munnar where we arrive before nightfall.
Munnar is in the heart of tea country, and nicknamed the Kashmir of South India, but the town (a big, giant eyesore) and the surrounding area (valleys draped in a rich tapestry of tea plantations) are like night and day.
The electrician awoke. Thankfully it was only a bad dream.
Suffice to say we’re not spending more time in town than we have to and book our tour with the Tourism Council, which conveniently takes us to all the worthwhile sights – and every dam, there are a lot – in the area.
Kerala has been a great start to our India adventure, next up we’re preparing to explore the opposite end of the country: Rajasthan.
A two hour ferry journey, followed by a four hour bus journey takes us from the backwaters of Alleppey to the elevation of the Cardamom Hills. We’re staying in a place called Kumily, which is a small gateway town between the states of Kerala and Tamil Nadu and also where the entrance to Periyar Tiger Reserve is.
After the heat and chaos of Alleppey, visiting the cool and quiet hill country is an absolute treat. The name of the Cardamom Hills comes from the cardamom spice that grows here alongside pepper, coffee and of course plenty of tea. Passing by some breathtaking scenery on the way here it’s no wonder this is a World Heritage Site.
Not only the climate is better, compared to our last stay the new hotel is a breath of fresh air too. The balcony has an actual view this time and there’s loads of cheeky bonnet macaques running about in the gardens. Add a hot shower in the mix and Alleppey is nothing but a distant memory anymore.
In September, all National Parks in India are closed for the season, except for Periyar. The protected area covers 925 square km and is home to as many as 40 tigers. Obviously we would love to see one, but given the fact we’re only trekking for one day, we’re still in the rainy season, and the park is humongous, this proves to be too much to ask for. The park is beautiful though and we manage to spot Malabar Giant Squirrels, Nilgiri Langurs, Sambar Deer and Indian Bisons, and a lot of Elephant droppings, but just no Elephants..
We finish off a day well-spent with a lake cruise inside the park, held up by a group of Germans (not so punctual on holiday are they?)
As night falls on the pleasant little town of Kumily we’re preparing for what will already be our final destination in Kerala. Tomorrow is the big celebration of the Onam festival and we’re travelling north to Munnar.
So far our experience with India is that in order to enjoy it you first have to fight it. Our time in Alleppey is a perfect example of this. After our grand entrance on the ferry begins our battle with India’s Little Venice.
Prior to our arrival we had romanticized Alleppey quite a bit. It’s described as a backpacker’s paradise known for its beautiful backwaters as well as its nice beach. We’re staying at a place advertised as beach hotel with a private balcony with a view, but in reality it’s a homestay with a view of the seedy little back street it is on. Though nearby, the nice beach area is more dirty than nice, as well as completely deserted. All of the nearby restaurants are shut and when we finally settle for a cold beer instead of a good meal on our first night, it feels like a pretty big win.
The next morning, in spite of a healthy dose of fresh resolve on our part, Alleppey keeps throwing curveballs. It’s 10AM Saturday morning and all we aim to do is take out cash and eat breakfast – not asking for much here! In the light of day the beachfront is as depressing as the night before so we quickly head into town. Traffic-congested and polluted are words that do not begin to describe the scene we’re walking into when we get to Alleppey town. It’s like the wacky races: a free-for-all of tuktuks, motorbikes, scooters, buses, cars, lorries and worst of all offenders: police patrol vehicles, producing big, billowing clouds of black smoke to the beat of frantic beeping. I will never complain about how busy Edinburgh gets on a Saturday ever again..
In the scorching heat we navigate roads without sidewalks, avoid massive puddles created by rainfall overnight and try to not to die in the onslaught of out of control vehicles, while being hassled to death by touts. For over two hours we try to find an ATM that works. Just when we’re about to give up, Bank of Baruda saves the day! It’s been a stressful morning, but nothing burgers and cocktails can’t fix, we’re still fighting fit.
At this point we’re not sure if we want to stay but decide to power through the final day. We’re told this running joke: The only Indian train ever to arrive on time is one that got delayed 24 hours. Dealing with India definitely requires a fair bit of patience, and, to quote our yoga instructor: (being) in harmony with your surroundings (or simply going with the flow).
Back home when a car beeps violently at you it usually means you’re about to get hit by it, so, constantly, my initial thought is to jump out of the way (about a hundred times a day). I’m now beginning to notice that the beeping here is more like a language: you can beep to say hello for instance, beep because you’re happy, or beep just because you haven’t beeped in the last five seconds. With this in mind it sure gets a lot easier to just ignore it and go about your Sunday (in harmony with your surroundings). Now that we know where the cash is at, we return to the same ATM for another injection (our future selves will thank us), find a great coffee place, hang out in the shade by the water and get drunk with a girl from Poland and a guy from Delhi, who give us some excellent tips for our upcoming visit to the north of India.
So Alleppey, did we beat it, or did it beat us? All we know is, we came there, we encountered resistance, we took control, once again the British and Dutch colonised the shit out if it! Time to trade in the coastal heat for the cooler elevation of the Cardamom Hills when we are travelling to Kumily.
Despite yesterday’s discouraging note we manage to leave Munroe Island train station without an issue. Our train is supposed to be here at 8:00, but when we get to the station at 7:50, the delayed 7:00 train is just ready for boarding. There we go. A measly 10 Rs gets us to Kollam where we hop on the Kerala State Water Transport Department’s (or KSWTD’s) public ferry to Alleppey. The total distance is about 85km, which will take roughly 7-8 hours through the amazing South Indian waterways. We’re in luck: the weather is bright and sunny and we’re about the only passengers on the boat! Private cruise anyone?
Soon we leave the mangroves that protect Kollam’s shores, pass under the bridge at Thevalli Palace and reach the open waters of Ashtamudi Lake. Suddenly loads of birds come flying up to us to catch fish in the motor’s slipstream. We’re on the top deck and get some great views of egrets flying alongside us.
We pass more of the Chinese fishing nets we’ve seen in Cochin and wave at fishermen speeding by in their small boats.
Before long we’re on the backwaters. Between the bright blue skies, the reflective brown-green water, all the palm trees and the colourful boats and houses, this place is something special.
In the afternoon we see herons, and lots and lots of eagles catching fish.
We stop off for Chai tea and a little slice of home: these bad boys that look and taste almost identical to Dutch oliebollen.
After an entertaining day on the water, finally we’re seeing the famous houseboats go past, which means we’re in Alleppey. Thank you KSWTD, we’ve had a blast!
In the late morning we take a short train trip from Varkala to Kollam in the north. The train we’re on originates in Thiruvananthapuram, the capital of Kerala, and goes all the way to New Delhi, a whopping 52 hour journey. Glad we’re only one stop away.. It’s our first experience travelling in Sleeper Class, which for a short journey isn’t entirely unpleasant. Once at Kollam, a tuktuk brings us to today’s final destination: Munroe Island.
Munroe Island is a small inland island group located at the confluence of Ashtamudi Lake and the Kallada River. It was named in honour of Scotsman John Munro, Resident Colonel of the former Princely State of Travancore and we’re here to visit the picturesque backwaters.
When we arrive at the homestay around mid-day, our lazy morning quickly turns into a rollercoaster ride of Munroe Island’s famed hospitality. We’re greeted by the owner (strangely looking exactly like the Indian version of our downstairs neighbour), who, after giving us just enough time to put our bags down, takes us along the road on the back of his motorbike to his brother’s retirement party!
We’re sat down at a large table in the garden with a group of about fifteen men who are extremely amused to see us, while the women, equally excited, wave at us from inside the house. In mere seconds someone puts a big banana leaf in front of us, another scoops up rice, the next one dishes out curry, then pickled mango, sambal, bananas, and so on. All the while everyone’s laughing, taking our picture and trying to talk to us at the same time in broken English – we smile and nod and pose, trying to eat with our hands like the others (our right hand that is, don’t want to gross anyone out!)
Back at the homestay we think we’re relaxing on the patio, but that’s not happening. First there’s a ton of paperwork to fill out for the Indian authorities (required at each hotel, although it’s always different), and in the meantime the owner has already drummed up a pal of his to take us onto the backwaters by boat. We quickly throw a water bottle and our phones into a wet bag and set off on the waterways!
This is what we came here for and we’re not disappointed: the backwaters are absolutely stunning. We’re the only boat out on the water and everything is totally quiet except for the pole going into the water, birds chirping and the boatman’s uncontrollable coughing fits – he’s old, but hardy.
In three hours on the water we see a lot of birds: eagles, kingfishers, herons, ducks, and loads of other birds we don’t recognize (our guide doesn’t speak English except for the word ‘down’ he yells at us whenever there’s a bridge ahead), plus a water snake, mangrove trees and lots of coconut trees, as well as the odd person washing their clothes in the murky water. We’re enjoying every second of it, it’s peaceful and beautiful out here, so much so that we decide to stay here for a second day.
We’re allowed to relax on the patio now and also go for a bike ride around the island. Tomorrow we will try to get a train back to Kollam (the note below we found stuck on a shut ticket counter today, but the 8AM train is hopefully still running) and then an 8-hour public ferry to our next stop: Alleppey.
Southeast Asia travel 