Dice Travel: An Experiment
by projecthitchhiker on November 12, 2009
in Southeast Asia, Stories, Travel
An inspired hour of hunting around the sweaty market and nothing. one last time I showed the piece of paper with the scribble of Laotian script on it: “Do you sell dice here?” the paper asked. “No, no, no…” said the woman shopkeeper, waving her hand. There were no dice in her shop of plastic nicknacks and toys. I looked at her watch and saw it was approaching 5pm so resigned my search. If I were to follow options 1 ,4 or 5 I would need to buy the ticket and pack my bag right away.
It was quite on a whim that I decided to try dice travel. After the high of an amazing motorcycle escapade in the Bolaven plateau, I found myself slightly bored and wondering where to go next. Coincidentally, I was also reading a book called The Dice Man about a man who decides what he will do from one minute to the next based on the roll of the dice (verdict: interesting concept, in fact part autobiographical, but in the end a mediocre novel). Also coincidentally, I am a thrill-seeking, impressionable young man, willing to try new things. It did solve my problem: part of me wanted to relax and chill out in a sleepy riverside town; part wanted to continue by motorbike; and part yearned for the seafood and the beaches of the central vietnam coast. In the dice options I wrote down, I tried to represent how much I wanted to go to each place, ie. 2 possibilities for 4000 islands in Southern Laos.
The options for my first (only?) round of dice travel:
1) Hue, Vietnam (Overnight bus to the home of Vietnamese Imperial cuisine. Appeals to my inner food critic)
2) Stay in Pakse another night (Rent a motorbike again and search out more adventure in the surrounding area. Appeals to my inner petrol-head)
3) Don Kone, Laos (One of the 4000 islands. hammocks, bungalows, and cheap beer. Appeals to my lazy side)
4) Vientiane, Laos (Great city with cafes, great restaurants, colonial history. Long overnight “sleeper bus’, with beds apparently. From what i hear on the travelers circuit, the overnight bus has mice)
5) Don Det, Laos (4000 islands)
6) Phnom Penh, Cambodia (The wild card choice. Appeals to my masochistic side)
But unfortunately, as I’ve said above, i couldn’t find any dice.
Hence, Plan B: consult the Oracle.
Montreal Rock City: Part 2, The Road Warriors
by projecthitchhiker on December 20, 2008
in Hitchhiking, Stories
(Read Part 1 here)
On The Road Again
Day 2 on the road. Dylan and I officially consider ourselves hardened road veterans. With an early start thanks to the sketchy House of Nazareth, we catch our first ride before 8am: an old, bright orange VW van. I didn’t know hitchhiking could be so cliche. Dylan sat in the back seat, a slippery vinyl ledge with no seatbelt, and I sat up front. After our introductions, the twenty-something driver started talking about music. “Hey, do you guys know reggae punk? You gotta check this out.” The remainder of the two hour ride, he would alternate between telling us about a new genre of music he had discovered (psychedelic blues, Icelandic ska) and playing a few songs on his stereo for us. Dylan fell asleep in the back so I was left on conversation duty. Nearing the end of the ride, I ventured to asked him if he liked TOOL. “Naw, too loud. They’re just plain metal. But hey, you gotta check out this new underground African-jazz-metal trio I found from New York…”
Montreal Rock City: Part 1, Tale of the Hitchhiking Virgins
by projecthitchhiker on December 18, 2008
in Hitchhiking, Stories
This is part one in a true series called Montreal Rock City.
The question you gotta ask yourself is how badly do you wanna see the greatest fucking rock and roll show in the fucking earth, right? We’re talking Gene and Paul live, yo. We’re talking about the most voluptuous women hanging out in the audience. I’m talking big breasteses in tight dressteses. We’re talkin’ ‘bout people passing around joints in the audience. I’m talking about fucking Detroit rock city. Shake your wee wee.
– Scalper in the movie Detroit Rock City
The Scene
I’m seventeen. It’s the summer after graduating high school. A rough summer of alcoholic hazes and sleepless nights. I sometimes get headaches when I don’t drink. The august heat makes my shitty job of cleaning car interiors even more hellish. I tell by boss that if I have to scrape one more dead bird from under the hood of a Pontiac Aztec, I’ll quit.
On Being Scared Shitless: Hunting Wild Boar in Indonesian Borneo
by projecthitchhiker on December 10, 2008
in Southeast Asia, Stories, Travel
As most experienced outdoor enthusiasts know, it’s usually some combination of two elements that put us into the most dangerous situations: 1) underestimating the proposed adventure and 2) overestimating one’s own abilities. Which brings me to this story.
Man Eating Bugs: Addicted to Culinary Adventures.
by projecthitchhiker on December 2, 2008
in Southeast Asia, Stories, Travel
Below, a video of me in Northern Thailand, half-drunk on rice wine and trying deep fried bugs at the local market.
I love eating weird stuff. Love it.
Kangaroos. Caribou. Big bugs. Beating snake hearts. One of my favorite things about traveling is trying strange new foods — foods that the locals will eat usually to gross out a foreigner — that’s the stuff I seek out. It makes life more interesting and helps get me out of my travel routines.
Childhood Memories: Mom’s Contests
by projecthitchhiker on October 31, 2008
in Four Hour Workweek, Stories
In the Four Hour Workweek, Tim Ferris talks about his simple, yet unconventional strategies for winning the Chinese National Kickboxing championship with relatively little kickboxing experience. How knowing the finer points of the rules and focusing on their weaknesses led him to win first prize in the tournament, simultaneously pissing off the whole of China. My mom was doing this Four Hour Workweek stuff — using existing rules and structures to her advantage, outsourcing her workload — before Tim Ferris joined his Highschool wrestling team. Back when he was still wearing tighty whities and Spiderman pajamas.
In Praise Of Motorcycles
by projecthitchhiker on October 12, 2008
in Awesome Stuff, Motorcycling, Stories
Life would have been just fine without Motorcycles.
I might have bought a reasonably priced sedan or hatchback, got a “real job,” had 2.3 kids and lived happily ever after. Things would have been more, well, predictable. I mean, I used to cringe when I walked past guys wearing Harley Davidson jackets and leather chaps, or guys decked out in full racing leathers. Victims of an under-developed fashion sense, I’d say to myself. And here I am two years later on the peripherals of the club. Now when I pass these guys on my motorbike, we exchange the biker’s salute and chat about our travels in Tim Horton’s parking lots and truck stop restaurants (I wonder: how many people who drive Camaros or pickup trucks wave to each other as they drive by as a sign of respect? I would wager it’s not a high number). Though that’s not to say I’ll ever wear leather chaps. Read more