The One Time a Monkey Tried to Kill Me (and I never exaggerate)

A cat-sized monkey nearly killed me and I never saw it coming.

The entrance to the Batu Caves in Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia is located at the top of a massive flight of stairs. These caves are not only guarded by Hindu Gods, but a family of small monkeys patrol the thousands of steps that one must climb to enter. Unfortunately, the monkeys have become totally dependent on treats from tourists for food. Bananas, peanuts, and even cans of soda are steadily given out as the cameras flash. I had just finished taking a few pictures of an adorable mama monkey and her two small babies (without giving treats) and was concentrating on my footing as a continued to climb. Suddenly, out of NOWHERE, this monkey jumps in front of me, bares his fang-like teeth, and growls! I FREAKED! Stepping backwards, I overshot the step below me and would've tumbled down the  hundreds of concrete steps below had I not somehow managed to grab the railing and right myself. The monkey, as if to further mock my wussy reaction, did a somersault, and then sat looking at me as he itched his head.

My mates couldn't control their laughter.   

Looking down at the would-be-monkey-induced deathtrap, I hopped the railing to distance myself from the alpha male and made my way hurriedly to the cave entrance.  The cave was massive, the ceiling being at least two or three stories high. Water cascaded down the walls and green vegetation poked through light-filled holes. It would've been one of the most beautiful things i've ever seen in my life were it not for the men shoving snakes into my face for 'only ten ringget  pitcha lady!' and the stalls full of flashing junk for sale. Despite the commercialization of the natural wonder, I couldn't help but be in aw of its size and magnitude. 

Elly, John, and myself left after a few minutes wandering around. The heat was making us all parched so we walked down the monkey-stair gauntlet and back to the train. The climb and heat had exhausted me, so I took a nap. My own drool woke me up as John and Elly had yet another laugh at my expense. I didn't mind, experiences are much better if you can learn to laugh at yourself. 

So far its been a cruisy week in Malaysia. The two cities i've been in (Melacca and Kuala Lumpur) make me shake my head at my previous perceptions of Asia. Many areas are more developed than some states in the US, a bit more run down and dirty though. I've also been surprised by the massive blend of Buddist, Hindu, Muslim, and Christain followers that all live peacefully in this tropical country. Next up is a week of trekking before we hit the Islands and hopefully avoid the looming monsoons! 

-Ash

Fun Fact: A trek up Mt. Kilimanjaro would probably be easier than navigating the streets around here. Curbs disappear or rise dramatically without warning. Holes and obstacles are like minefields in the streets. Cars and motorcycles fly past chaotically. And you are constantly required to avoid the local predators who attack without warning, wanting you to buy their goods. 

The One Whole Day in Singapore

A little boy stood next to me doing the pee dance. Looking around past the 300 people in line around us, I saw there was no bathroom in sight. As I inched my way closer to the customs official who would scan, stamp, and send me into Singapore, the little boy's pee dance began to resemble John Travolta in Satruday Night Fever. Suddenly, just as I thought the little dude would be part of the 'peeing your pants is cool' club, his mother whipped out a plastic bag, dad yanked down the kids pants, and the toddler tinkled an impressive amount of fluid into the bag. Did I mention this was in the middle of the airport around hundreds of people? I looked around with shocked humor on my face, ready for some reaction from everyone else. Nothing happened. Apparently, this whole peeing in a bag thing is perfectly normal in Asia. Awesome...

Luckily, my experiences in Japan and New York prepared me for the chaos of the train station and massive city life that followed. Surrounded by announcements and a comlpex route map, I somehow managed to get on the right train and off at the right stop. Arriving at my hostel I was immediatly met by the sound of a very loud American man telling anyone within earshot his life story. Typical. After quickly checking in, I locked up my gear and then headed out to grab a feed.

Turning around the corner I came upon a Singapore tattoo shop. This consisted of a table and chair on the sidewalk. There were a few of the artist's examples taped against the side of a building, and a very cheerful man was giving a very drunk guy a massive tattoo. The sign read "Tattoo only $20". Sounded legit. I continued walking. My dinner was a whopping $1.80 USD and it was absolutely delicious. It was getting late and I was tired from a full day traveling so I headed back to the hostel.

A near sleepless night passed (thanks to some jerk with the worst hostel etiquette i've ever encountered) and I was up early to catch a bus into Malaysia. I ventured into the common area and was greeted by the loud American. I somehow got roped into conversation when I asked where the hostel manager was, and soon the guy was giving me his life story (despite me hearing half of it through the walls the night before). Married to his 5th Asian wife, he owned dozens of real estate companies in Hawaii and was in Singapore doing business for the oil being pumped from his property in Pennsylvania. According to him, he wasn't a millionare (yet) but he was very well off. 'If your so well off, why are you staying in the cheapest hostel in Singapore?' I asked. He didn't have a very good response for that one. Creep.

I went to grab a quick shower to try and fend off the sweltering heat. Opening the shower door, I laughed out loud. Smack dab in the middle of the shower stall was a poreclin hole in the ground - the toilet. Apparently this is standard in many parts of Asia and I made a mental note to never try and shower drunk for the duration of my travels. I wouldn't want my foot to end up in a toilet bowl, or try to explain how I injured myself while showering (although it wouldnt be the first time).

Within the hour I was cramming myself onto a public bus (probably a good 12-15 people over max capacity). I was one step closer to Malaysia and very eager to get out of the concrete jungle of Singapore. Negotiating a travel bus to Melacca (or Malaka depending on who you ask), I had a few hours to kill before we were due to depart. I wandered around a shopping plaza, overwhelmed by the smells and sounds of the massive city/country. I tried a few local chocolate pancakes and a ice cold glass of strawberry soy milk. Full and ready to go, I boarded the bus heading north into Malaysia and was really on my way to start what I hope will be one of the biggest adventures of my life!

-Ash

Fun Fact: I accidently burned myself walking too close to a metal trash can. Apparently some shops opt to burn their trash rather than deal with the city's garbage disposal system. Not very eco friendly eh?

The One in Aussie Land with the Ginger and the Doc

Brent is your typical Aussie bloke from Down Under. He’s not the Crocodile Dundee jackaroo or the sun-kissed blond surfer glorified in American media. Rather, he’s a freckled footy-playing ginger proudly waiting for what he calls the “Ranga Revolition!” (‘ranga’, short for orangutan, meaning redhead…I haven’t figured out if ‘ranga’ is slang or a naughty word yet). I’ve spent the past week getting to know the rellies from Down Under; who are relatives that I claim as my own but are actually related to my daycare mom Desi. Relishing in the thick Aussie accents, charm, and incredibly obliging hospitality, I’ve have had a much-needed break from the wonderful chaos, and not so wonderful cold of New Zealand.

The weather here has been pristine, and with a host who lives next to the beach, who wouldn’t be enjoying every minute? Now it hasn’t all been beaches and books. Brent and I have had a few adventures during my short stay. Last week we ventured to a park where wild parrots hastily ate seed from the palm of our hands, and then on the way home we spotted a few adorable wild kangaroos. Next was a trip to hike up the lush mountainside of Mt Warning to summit for a stunning 360-degree view of the Gold Coast. 4 hours and as many ankle-rolls later, and we were happily off our feet and headed home to catch a professional soccer match. Although the game wasn’t spectacular, the crowd was highly entertaining. Fans from both teams took part in a cultivated rivalry of chants, song, and hilarious heckling. I would share more details but, much of what came out of their mouths would’ve been cause for a lifetime ban if ever at a sporting event in the US… in case you didn’t know, Americans are extremely uptight and overly PC in comparison to most of the western world – especially in regard to sports and television. 

I was lucky enough to catch-up with a rugby teammate who used to be nicknamed Abzilla (if you ever watched her play, the name makes sense). Seeing as she’s in med school and on her way to becoming a real-life Medical Doctor, I’ve come to terms with just calling her Abby. I made it to Abby’s house minutes before her awesome boyfriend Jason got home from a short trip in New Zealand. The three of us ate a scrumptious treat of cornbread and chili for dinner (a meal nearly extinct on this side of the world) and caught up on life. Yesterday we took to the city via water taxi. Starting off with a quick dip in the beach/lagoon located in the middle of the city, we then toured the museum and metro art gallery. Couldn’t say I was too impressed with the art (weirded out mostly) but I’m a sucker for museums and had a blast learning about the history and culture of this unique country. All too soon I found myself bidding farewell to my rugby sister and boarded the train back to the beaches. 

After a lovely day spent touring the beach city of Burleigh with Ronelle, I found myself in the midst of a wonderfully welcoming family dinner. Over a Chinese smorgasbord we swapped stories and laughter as if we’ve been doing it for years. After just a few short days spent here, I’ve decided I’m absolutely going to have to come back for more!

I guess that run-down of the past week’s events doesn’t sound too ‘cruisy’, but in comparison to the last 13 months, this as been the most relaxing week in a while! So in preparation for Asia I’ve read almost zero literature, have had a handful of conversations about the do’s and don’ts, and have packed the bare essentials needed for my trip (haha)… guess they don’t call it ‘flying by the seat of your pants’ for nothing!

Singapore, Malaysia, Thailand, Laos, Vietnam, and Cambodia – HERE I COME!

-Ash

Fun Fact: It is mandatory for every citizen over the age of 18 to vote in Australia. Failure to do so results in an expensive fine!

The One with the Bus Trip Blues

I expected my exit from New Zealand to be at least a little dramatic. Tears? Yes. Forgetting important things? Check. Feeling suddenly unprepared for what lies in my immediate future? Uh-huh. What I didn’t plan for was the bus ride to Christchurch.

I was a bit suspicious when the first thing out of the bus driver’s mouth was ‘I’ve never driven this puppy before, so we’ll see how she goes!’ Boy were those ill-fated words.

Despite the bus being 30 minutes early, we left 5 minutes late due to a young 20-something’s inability to pry her face from a blonde-haired trendy looking guy who undoubtedly was a checkbox on her ‘things to do abroad’ list. Watching the long exchange of tears and saliva jump-started the inevitable queasiness that accompanies me on long windy roads. Once Romeo and Juliet had finally parted, the bus lurched and shook into gear as it pulled away from the adventurous ski town that had become my second home.

Promptly feeling overtly sick, I moved from the middle of the bus to the very front. This move did not make the frozen bus feel any warmer, but did help a smidgen with the motion sickness. Feeling tired and very sad to be leaving so many good mates and incredible people, I was not in the mood to listen as the guy behind me began singing aloud (in German?) to rap music spilling raucously from his headphones. His yammering was accompanied by a very elderly lady who continuously hacked and coughed her lungs halfway up her throat. To be fair I felt bad for the old grandma, but the Eminem wannabe? I could’ve strangled him!

By the time we arrived at our second stop in Wanaka the driver looked thoroughly stressed-out by the uncooperative gears. Half asleep, I was suddenly woken-up by the horrible stench of body odor and cigarettes. Peeking one eye open, I found the culprit sitting directly in front of me. He was oblivious to the fact that his odor could be bottled and used in germ warfare, but then again, aren’t the smelly ones always unaware that they are poisoning a 10 foot radius around themselves? The only thing that made sitting near him bearable was being able to inwardly laugh as Grandma decided to strike up a conversation with the obviously non-English speaking stinker. His inability to respond with anything but “yes” and looking bewildered and confused didn’t slow Grandma’s motor mouth down one bit! Smiling, I nibbled on my Maramite and mayo sandwich and enjoyed the show.

It was about twenty minutes post-sandwich when I realized we were moving exceptionally slow. The driver seemed to be frantically pushing and pulling at the gear shifter before giving up and pulling over. A frustrated sigh and short phone-call later and we were given the news: the clutch was out and we would have to wait for a replacement bus. Not in a rush to be anywhere, I quietly opened a book to pass the time. Mr. Gingerbeard from Australia and Supertourist Man from England had different ideas. The two responded with a string of curse words uncleverly directed toward the driver, the bus company, and New Zealand in general. They then heatedly (and loudly) debated on how unbearably long it would take for the new bus to arrive. After it was settled that it would be NO LESS THAN 3 BLEEPIN’ HOURS (!!!), Gingerbeard heavily paced the isle, slamming things in the overhead bin and muttering obscenities in a thick Aussie accent.

For the next 45 minutes I had the pleasure of listening as a girl (who had obviously spent hours in the early morning agonizing over her hair, makeup, and outfit before getting onto a bus full of hungover strangers) texted the contents of her entire iPhone contact list and probably updated her Facebook and Twitter profiles about our doomed bus status. If the tick-tick-tick of Paris Hilton wasn’t enough to distract me from my book, smelly dude busted out some fish-casserole lunch thing that nearly smelled worse than he did. Good grief. Would this ever end?

Over an hour later the new bus arrived. We all cheered before grabbing our gear and settling into our new abode for the next 8 hours. The fresh transport didn’t last long. After climbing through a particularly steep mountain pass the bus overheated and we were forced to wait (yet again) for a replacement. This time the wait wasn’t too arduous. Bus #3 arrived just as Gingerbeard was gearing up to launch into another tirade. It was smooth sailing from there. Kind of. A broken heater combined with an unsealed door created fridge-like temperatures while an unpleasant high-pitched alarm intermittently sounded from the dash. But hey, at least we were moving!

Arriving in Christchurch, my post-broken tailbone SCREAMING for pressure relief, I happily departed the bus. With the first leg of my trip to Asia in the bag, I can venture a guess that things will either get easier from here, or (more likely) I’ll be prepared for more of the same shenanigans!

-       Ash

Fun Fact: I just became the first person IN NEW ZEALAND to pay a parking fine at the new City Council Building in Christchurch. Got my receipt to prove it…even if the cute old lady did have to write it out on a hot pink post-it note! 

The One Early Morning Escapade

It’s pitch black, freezing, and for some reason I thought it would be a good idea to pedal a bike up a giant mountain and then climb up even higher - all for the sake of a sunrise. Guess every once in a while my ideas are, in fact, good ones!

With a pack full of water, snacks, and a camera (along with an incredibly stylish and not-at-all bulky head lamp) my mate Keri and I were on our way out the door at 5AM. At first the frozen grass and icy pathways were a sure-fire recipe for disaster, but luckily our lights were so dim I forgot about the frozen ground and instead spent the majority of my morning trying to avoid rocks, trees, and other semi-life-threatening objects. As twilight began to succumb to the morning sun Keri and I reached the Ben Lomond trailhead. The pathway became too steep and snow-filled for even the most avid bikers to continue up so we ditched our wheels and pressed onward.

Ben Lomond Peak in the background. First light.

Initially planning to watch sunrise from the saddle (the dip between two higher ridgelines), Keri and I quickly realized how much we had overestimated our fitness levels and decided the sun would rise well before we got to our planned destination. Turns out our poor planning worked to our advantage because, as we reached a lower lying crest called Bob’s Peak, the sky began changing colors. We figured out that the saddle faced North and that we would’ve missed the sunrise altogether had we ascended the extra hour (or been more fit)! A few low lying clouds made for a spectacular sunrise as Keri and I watched surrounded by the silence of a sleeping mountain.

When the brilliant colors finally faded into a grey-blue morning sky, we had a short debate about continuing up to the saddle. Despite our attire (or more appropriately Keri’s well-thought out skate shoes, complete with holes, and board shorts) we pressed on for more views and the challenge of an even bigger mission. Trudging through hard-packed snow and ignoring the increasing wind, we reached the saddle just as the sun washed over the valleys and peaks. With another awe-inspiring view to recharge our tiring bodies and waning motivation, we took a few glances at the Ben Lomond apex and couldn’t resist the temptation of a full-scale summit.

We made it!

On our way up through loose rock and icy snow, we chuckled over the ridiculousness of how unprepared we had been for what was turning into a huge undertaking. In the snow we could distinguish the prints of snowshoes, crampons, and the marks of hiking poles. I figured we both were stubborn enough to make it to the summit based on sheer willpower, despite our lack of gear. After scaling boulders and clamoring up the snow-covered face in our absurd outfits, we had a photo shoot and a laugh about how unnecessary most “high tech” outdoor gear really is. The daunting task of sliding and trudging back down the mountain was relieved by a welcomed break for breakkie and eventually, making it back to our bikes.

A short uphill pedal brought us to the beginning of a downhill mountain bike track aptly named Vertigo. Keri, riding a full suspension bike, screamed down the twisting path while I, lacking the fearlessness and suspension, jarringly followed behind her. One spill on my part and a whole lotta mud later, and we were safely back in town. Exhausted but buzzing from our morning escapade, I convinced Keri to ride down a massive flight of outdoor stairs before we called it a day. Muddy, sweaty, and ridiculously happy, I declared the morning a tremendous success. With incredible adventures like that one, I’m fairly sure that if I hadn’t already bought my plane tickets to travel onward, I’d be hard-pressed to leave this thrilling and remarkable country! 

So excited to be on flat solid ice-free ground! 

Fun Fact: The entire country of New Zealand is roughly 103,730 square miles. The state of California is 163,700... nothin' fancy, just a fun fact! 

The One Whole Year Abroad

Holy smokes 365 days go by fast! Just over a year ago I was living two blocks from the hospital I was born in, working at the very daycare I grew up at, and spending my days basking in the intense Chico sun that had become as much a part of my summers as hot dogs and fireworks. Jump forward a year and here I am on the other side of the world, scoffing at the idea that how I spend my days is considered ‘work’, and freezing my tail off in the dead of winter where I’ve become accustomed to spills on black ice and frosty breath (even inside the house). Have things changed a lot since I’ve begun traveling? You betcha.

Physically I’m the same person that left Chico (longer hair and what I insist is a goggle tan aside) but I can honestly say that the experiences I’ve had over the past 12 months have been so profound that I can’t help but be changed by them. I’ve had the world at my fingertips, quite literally. Everyday is an adventure and if the adventure gets boring, there’s always skydiving.

They say its not the destination but the journey that counts. However corny the saying, its absolutely true. My journey from California to Queenstown has been an eventful one, and one that I never would’ve predicted. According to my best-laid plans I’m supposed to be working somewhere in warm sunny Australia right now – who knew I would be one of the “locals” living in a adrenaline-crazed town spending my summer in the snow?

Getting outside my protective bubble has opened my eyes to a lot of new and often very different things. I’ve become all-too aware of my American-isms while slowly adapting to my new surroundings. Words like “cheers” and “keen as” have made it into my vocabulary, and I’m still picking up oddities like tea drinking and eating my new all-time favorite food: marmite on toast!  I’ve also observed that bad drivers exist in every country, Mexican food gets better the closer you are to Mexico, and that if there ever were to be an official Beer Olympics, Ireland, New Zealand, and Australia would medal respectively. Sorry USA, you wouldn’t even make the semi-finals…but at least we would beat Canada!

As the 20-day countdown to leaving New Zealand quickly approaches I’m trying to make the most of my dwindling time in this incredible country. My days are spent on the ski fields, my nights enthusiastically watching rugby games, and every once in a while an impromptu mission into the bush is in order! After a year spent down under, I’m gutted to be moving on but also very excited to be starting a new journey: Asia!

The One putting ABILITY into disability!

One smile from 12-year-old Ethan and I knew the next few days on the snow were going to be good ones. Choosing his words carefully and speaking slowly, Ethan was happy to tell me that he was from Sydney, Australia and that he DID NOT want to go skiing. Not one to back down from a challenge, I happily informed Ethan that we were going to give it a shot anyway!

Using a combination of wedge supports, tethers, and constant reminders to Ethan that we were not racing in the Olympics just yet, we spent a few wonderful days getting our ski on! Watching Ethan evolve from being frustrated with the task of actually putting his skis on to progressing enough to make it down the slope nearly unassisted was absolutely awesome! But there was more – when we weren’t sliding down the snow on our ski’s, Ethan and I were sliding with other options: hurling down hillsides on our slick pants and spinning wildly on innertubes! I’ve never seen such an incredible smile as Ethan’s when he was flying on his innertube down the hill in the midst of laughing and shrieking with elated joy. The dark-haired freckled boy reminded me of why I love throwing caution to the wind and letting myself be a kid again!

And then there is Mia…future Paralympian extraordinaire! Mia is 14-years-old and already has the competitive drive and intense determination of someone destined to do great things in this world. Although I am technically supposed to be assisting Mia with riding on her monoski, I’m pretty sure she’s actually the one helping me out. Thanks to Mia’s mad skills, I’ve been forced to keep up with her and in turn, have been progressing quite a lot since starting to ski with her.

Because Mia doesn’t own her own ski just yet (anyone interested in donating $ to a good cause?), she’s been banned from hitting rails on the rental gear…but nobody said anything about jumps! You think Shawn White looks cool doing Double McTwists in the halfpipe? Small fries people… Mia hitting jumps and catching air on her monoski takes the icing on the whole friggin cake! The other day when Mia landed a jump that I wouldn’t even think of doing, I’m pretty sure I was more excited then she was!

With each day spent on the snow Mia has been charging faster and hitting it harder and I have no doubt that in four-years time we’ll be watching her representing New Zealand in the 2014 winter Paralympics! You go girl =)

-Ash

“To accomplish great things, we must not only act, but also dream; not only plan, but also believe.”