tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-378328782011-12-27T04:00:22.271+09:00Nothing to it but to do it.Matthew Kleinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15272501513804176463noreply@blogger.comBlogger1121100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37832878.post-31684666635641355802007-11-18T15:25:00.001+09:002008-07-30T01:52:54.765+09:00

I’m writing this on the last day of my trip as I speed towards Tokyo on the Shinkansen, which is perhaps my favorite train in the world. I’ve spent the better part of the last 300 days traveling from Sydney to Tokyo, a total of ten countries and dozens of cities, posting more than 100 blog entries and 3,000 photographs. That I'm going home hasn’t completely sunk in. I’ve been taking this trip one

Matthew Kleinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15272501513804176463noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37832878.post-8460670949057257472007-11-09T00:28:00.001+09:002007-11-09T01:08:13.777+09:00

I didn’t come to Nagasaki for the temples. There are plenty of temples, all of them very beautiful. But really, who comes to Nagasaki for the temples? Most visitors come to Nagasaki to learn about the atomic bomb. It’s true that this port city on the western edge of Kyushu has a long and vibrant history, that it was once the most international of Japan’s cities, open to trade with China and

Matthew Kleinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15272501513804176463noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37832878.post-83191308917827508452007-11-07T13:52:00.000+09:002007-11-09T00:58:33.744+09:00

Cities all look the same after a while. There are exceptions on the world stage; Paris, New York and Rome will never be mistaken for anything other than the singular creations that they are. But most cities are interchangeable; you’ve seen one you’ve seen them all. This may be especially true of Japanese cities, where concrete is the order of the day and logic a byproduct of urban planning. A

Matthew Kleinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15272501513804176463noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37832878.post-20955433216288765842007-11-07T13:42:00.000+09:002007-11-07T13:51:44.781+09:00

In my last post I wrote about eating at a ramen joint in Fukuoka. I said that I would return and I did, slurping up more delicious ramen. This time I ordered a type of Hakata Ramen that I later learned was favored by "women and the elderly." It was milder than the type I'd had a few days earlier, but just as delicious. I could, however, go for a plate of pasta or a burger after all this

Matthew Kleinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15272501513804176463noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37832878.post-39352630885223293132007-11-01T23:24:00.000+09:002007-11-02T00:36:18.691+09:00

One of the goals, perhaps the only goal, I set for myself before arriving in Japan was to hunker down and learn Japanese. I am one of the hundreds of million of Americans who speaks a single language. I can order a taco and and call you a bad names in Spanish, but that hardly qualifies as being bilingual. I’d like to possess at least a functional ability in a second language before I die. I love

Matthew Kleinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15272501513804176463noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37832878.post-35300693892543107702007-11-01T22:11:00.000+09:002007-11-02T01:46:03.793+09:00

If a picture is worth a thousand words, I’m a few million words in the hole. Check out my Flickr page and you’ll see that I’ve posted more than 3,000 photos in the last nine months, a figure that represents about 25 percent of all the pictures I’ve taken. All this time with my finger poised on the shutter has turned me into an amateur photographer with aspirations. I landed in Sydney armed with a

Matthew Kleinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15272501513804176463noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37832878.post-31852600056698950982007-10-05T18:12:00.000+09:002007-10-05T21:48:40.921+09:00

Yes, I know. It's been more than two weeks since I posted to Packmonkey. Where are you? What's up? I've heard the pleas for updates and apologize for the delay. Let's call it a vacation from blogging. Since landing in Tokyo, I've been enjoying sleeping same bed every night, keeping a schedule, creating a routine and basically giving myself something of a normal existence. It's everything that my

Matthew Kleinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15272501513804176463noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37832878.post-51322364879914528502007-09-17T22:27:00.000+09:002007-09-17T23:08:31.215+09:00

After seven months on the road I've arrived someplace familiar. However, it's been almost 15 years since I lived in Tokyo. While Tokyo is still Tokyo, it's not the same city I lived in for 18 months. Perhaps it's because I arrived on the Friday before a holiday weekend, three days of blazing sunshine in which the city's population of 12 million jammed the streets. Tokyo has always been crowded,

Matthew Kleinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15272501513804176463noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37832878.post-57647449745937785652007-09-14T02:27:00.000+09:002007-09-14T18:09:43.738+09:00

I've seen a lot over the last seven months, but if there's one truth to this world, it's that you'll never seen it all. I was reminded of this simple fact while walking up a steep hill in Macau. I was admiring the crumbing apartment blocks lining the street when I saw a simple, faded blue sign with a stencil of a dog, a German Shepherd in fact, with the letters "WC" below the image. That couldn't

Matthew Kleinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15272501513804176463noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37832878.post-67553125432117074832007-09-13T18:53:00.000+09:002007-09-24T00:19:29.780+09:00

An article in the New York Times business section on August 28th caught my eye, not because I follow the trends in the casino industry, but because it was about Macau, a pimple at the mouth of the Pearl River in Southern China that is a one-hour ferry ride from Hong Kong. I had arrived in Hong Kong two days earlier with no itinerary of than to recover from an illness and was open to suggestion.

Matthew Kleinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15272501513804176463noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37832878.post-44048772005487414362007-09-06T21:18:00.000+09:002007-09-06T21:40:51.717+09:00

I took a few thousand photographs between June 14 and July 23, between my arrival in Southern Thailand and the last few, frustrating days in Vietnam. Of those thousands of photos I uploads about 1,100 to Flickr. And now, I've whittled down those eleven hundred to 120 photographs in two manageable photosets. If you're looking for quick and easy vacation pics, you've come to the right place. I'll

Matthew Kleinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15272501513804176463noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37832878.post-57795968429933434072007-09-06T15:39:00.000+09:002007-09-13T22:14:03.973+09:00

Before embarking on a life on the road, I was the editor of the movies section for NYTimes.com. It was a position that gave me an excuse to see a ton of movies, a pastime that I've enjoyed since childhood. I knew before packing my bags that travel and moviegoing do not coexist. I understood that I would be giving up afternoons in the dark for bumpy bus rides and foreign landscapes. I have managed

Matthew Kleinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15272501513804176463noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37832878.post-51982280989855866522007-09-02T12:44:00.000+09:002007-09-13T22:14:26.935+09:00

I was sick when I arrived in Hong Kong, spending the better part of four days in bed. I woke up Friday feeling much better and was able to have dinner that night with my former boss at The Times, Len Apcar. It was great to see Len, who is now Chief Editor of Asia for the International Herald Tribune, and to talk about familiar subjects from the past. When I was waiting for him to arrive at the

Matthew Kleinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15272501513804176463noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37832878.post-11337668204985439772007-08-30T13:30:00.000+09:002007-08-30T16:47:52.318+09:00

The moment I saw a McDonald's on Nathan Road in Hong Kong I knew that I'd arrived. It's not that I was craving a Big Mac (Happy B'day Mac!) - I haven't eaten at a McDonald's in years - it was that it had been two months since I'd seen the Golden Arches. The last time I'd set eyes on the familiar red and yellow logo was in Northern Thailand, in Chiang Mai, somewhere near the night market. All

Matthew Kleinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15272501513804176463noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37832878.post-69862887021907326522007-08-27T00:40:00.000+09:002007-08-27T01:36:22.820+09:00

Karst. Now there's a word I don't think I'd ever heard before arriving in Southeast Asia. It's a word that kept coming up as I traveled through the region. And in Northeastern Vietnam, at a UNESCO World Heritage site called Halong Bay, the experience is all about the karsts.A karst, according to Wikipedia, is a geological term for a "three-dimensional landscape shaped by the dissolution of a

Matthew Kleinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15272501513804176463noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37832878.post-70888375589958109612007-08-19T14:08:00.000+09:002007-08-19T18:43:39.463+09:00

I'm going to vent now. What follows will make me sound narrow-minded and bitter. I'm willing to accept that. And the pictures have nothing to do with the text. They are just there to add some local color. I've spent the last week bouncing from one central Vietnamese city to another. The names change but the scenery and the experience remain constant. There's been little to capture my attention

Matthew Kleinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15272501513804176463noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37832878.post-76524860346568503772007-08-17T18:09:00.000+09:002007-08-17T18:14:41.912+09:00

I've been unable to view Packmonkey for the past few days. At first I thought the problem was with my browser. Then I thought it must be the network I was working on. But now, after trying multiple browsers on multiple machines on multiple networks, I started to believe that the only answer could be censorship. I'm now convinced, after a quick Google search, that Blogspot is indeed being blocked

Matthew Kleinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15272501513804176463noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37832878.post-8504786096510765662007-08-16T23:00:00.000+09:002007-08-16T23:43:11.546+09:00

Any visitor to Vietnam, especially an American visitor to Vietnam, must eventually face this country’s recent history of prolonged and bloody warfare. I wish I could trot out the facts of the Vietnam War, names, dates, places, battles and casualties. But I can't. Most of what I know about the war comes from the movies, and cinema’s the most unreliable source of all. Suffice to say there was a

Matthew Kleinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15272501513804176463noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37832878.post-56771252716847645892007-08-09T20:02:00.000+09:002007-08-12T23:08:54.258+09:00

England, the United States, Australia, Indonesia, Singapore, Malaysia, Thailand, Laos, Cambodia and now Vietnam. Ten countries in six months, eleven if you count Borneo as separate from Malaysia (there is a Sabah stamp in my passport). That’s my life in 2007. And every time I’ve entered a new country, the first 24 hours have presented me with challenges delightful and frustrating, exciting and

Matthew Kleinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15272501513804176463noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37832878.post-23081802878715210532007-08-06T15:48:00.000+09:002007-08-09T21:03:19.300+09:00

On every bus ride there are rest stops. There is always food for sale, from cooked meals to prepackaged snacks. On the ride from Kampong Cham to Kampot, in a small town called Skuon in Eastern Cambodia, we were treated to a unique snack, a Cambodia delicacy if you will: the fried spider. I’d already eaten crickets, grasshoppers and termites, and I’d promised someone during a night of drinking

Matthew Kleinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15272501513804176463noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37832878.post-2423133387164637152007-08-06T15:23:00.000+09:002007-08-06T22:49:16.420+09:00

Okay, so here I am in Cambodia. And no trip to Cambodia is complete without a visit to the country’s main attraction: the Temples of Angkor. In fact, most tourists fly into Siem Reap, tour the temples and leave again without seeing any more of the country. On Intrepid Travel’s tour of Cambodia, my group spent two days exploring the temples and we only skimmed the surface. I have a theory about

Matthew Kleinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15272501513804176463noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37832878.post-14302769119514187142007-08-06T15:16:00.000+09:002007-08-06T15:18:15.373+09:00

Three hundred kilometers from Phnom Phen is Cambodia’s second-largest city, Battambang. With only about 150,000 inhabitants, Battambang will never be mistaken for a world capital. As it is, one might not even recognize Battambang as a city; it is more like a very large village surrounded by fertile countryside. But no one comes to Battambang for the urban experience; people come here to see rural

Matthew Kleinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15272501513804176463noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37832878.post-62314262146880676232007-07-31T16:39:00.000+09:002007-08-31T16:06:15.127+09:00

[Warning: This post contains graphic descriptions of an accident.]This morning my tour group boarded a bus in Kampot, on the South Coast of Cambodia, and set out on National Highway 3 for the beach resort of Sihanoukville, about 100 kilometers to the west. About 20 minutes into the trip I pulled out a novel and settled in for a good read. The bus jerked to the right. There was a loud thwack and

Matthew Kleinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15272501513804176463noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37832878.post-87842287803211974472007-07-23T18:51:00.000+09:002007-07-25T17:22:33.306+09:00

Any visitor to Cambodia should reflect on this country’s recent history. Cambodia gained independence from France in November 1953. King Sihanouk abdicated the throne two years later, placing his father in power. But Sihanouk formed a political party, the People’s Socialist Communist Party, that gained power by taking every seat in parliament in the 1955 elections. For the next 15 years, Sihanouk

Matthew Kleinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15272501513804176463noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37832878.post-48431464458117741172007-07-22T13:17:00.001+09:002007-07-22T13:52:07.282+09:00

It was late afternoon on my first day in Phnom Penh. I was wandering around outside the Royal Palace when I noticed a few carts piled with baskets of something edible. Never one to pass up a chance to inspect the local cuisine, I moved closer. It didn't take long to realize the baskets contained piles of fried insects. There were beetles, crickets and grasshoppers. There was a pile of green

Matthew Kleinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15272501513804176463noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37832878.post-63545607559206243502007-07-20T16:09:00.002+09:002007-07-20T16:27:37.194+09:00

Look what happens. You listen to punk rock as a kid and then you are living the title of a Dead Kennedys song. Yes, I've arrived in Cambodia, land of ancient temples and the killing fields. I'm in Phnom Penh today and will be taking a walking tour this afternoon. Tomorrow I join an organized trip with Intrepid Travel. The two-week tour hits the country's highlights, but I'm most looking forward

Matthew Kleinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15272501513804176463noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37832878.post-44606761476554617252007-07-20T02:00:00.000+09:002007-07-20T02:36:41.771+09:00

I’ve lost of all sense of distances and geography. I reached this epiphany upon arrival at Vang Vieng, a bend in the Nam Song river about 230 kilometers south of Luang Prabang.I was in the back of a tuk-tuk with Mitzi, a chef from Maui, and Miksa, her 8-year-old daughter, when Mitzi said that Vang Vieng is the middle of nowhere. Vang Vieng may be in the middle of Laos, a landlocked country in the

Matthew Kleinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15272501513804176463noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37832878.post-54295163167022587572007-07-18T15:02:00.000+09:002007-07-20T16:06:22.286+09:00

Luang Prabang, Laos, is a backpacker’s dream town. With a population of about 25,000, Luang Prabang is big enough to offer religion, architecture, culture, cuisine and natural beauty, yet small enough to allow for unscripted exploration around gilded Buddhist temples, through narrow, leafy lanes, and on the banks of the muddy Mekong River. It is one of the premiere tourist destinations in Laos,

Matthew Kleinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15272501513804176463noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37832878.post-73646301557630393682007-07-15T17:48:00.000+09:002007-07-18T15:45:54.665+09:00

"People matter," said Dr. Meredith Grey on a recent episode of "Grey's Anatomy." This being Meredith Gray, the neurotic title character of the hit television series, the concept became the butt of a joke from her wisecracking best friend. But Meredith's simple statement resonated with me. This week I thought about her statement when I found myself traveling with a group of new friends. It started

Matthew Kleinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15272501513804176463noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37832878.post-31163181053387397882007-07-13T12:41:00.000+09:002007-07-14T22:08:08.824+09:00

Today I uploaded my 2,000th picture to Flickr! The shots are mostly from this trip, but do include pictures from Ireland and New York City. Still, 2,000 is a milestone to celebrate. Just be happy I haven't posted all 6,000 photos I've taken since landing in Sydney in early February.Number 2,000 is of a beautiful elephant I encountered in a town on the Mae Kok River in Northern Thailand. The

Matthew Kleinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15272501513804176463noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37832878.post-82672322421342926442007-07-13T11:52:00.000+09:002007-07-13T11:57:34.027+09:00

It's been weeks since I was in Borneo, but it's never to late to write about monkeys. My latest dispatch for Tripmaster Monkey ("Home of Yellow Journalism") is about my stint as a Monkey Tourist. It's chock full of simian antics and heartwarming anthropomorphism. I hope you'll give it a read, and click on a few ads when you are done to support the fine folks running the show at TMM. Previous:

Matthew Kleinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15272501513804176463noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37832878.post-34277803528449985372007-07-12T20:43:00.000+09:002007-07-12T21:22:14.122+09:00

The streets of central Chiang Mai are lined with guesthouses offering a repeating menu of adventure options. There are visits to hill tribes. There are classes in cooking, language, massage, dressmaking and more that I’m not aware of. The most popular activities, however, are those that guarantee the release of high levels of adrenaline into the bloodstream. I’d spent a week in Bangkok and then a

Matthew Kleinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15272501513804176463noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37832878.post-10334365138911509022007-07-07T17:06:00.000+09:002007-07-07T19:12:36.187+09:00

My 30-day Thai visa expires on July 11. I will be spending the next few days trekking, whitewater rafting, and taking public transportation to the border with Laos. There's been a lot to write about over the past four weeks, but a few items have slipped through the cracks. The following nuggets have been on my mind over the last few days. Rough SeasAnyone who travels around the islands of

Matthew Kleinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15272501513804176463noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37832878.post-12418987962400996402007-07-05T14:27:00.001+09:002007-07-22T12:58:04.527+09:00

I have a new favorite Thai dish. I'd thought I'd tried them all, but when you travel to the source something new is bound to present itself. The dish is Khao Soy (or Khao Sawy), a straightforward blend of red curry, noodles and chicken. But like everything delicious, the simplicity hides something satisfyingly complex. I discovered Khao Soy through my new Bangkok-based friend Linnea (of the

Matthew Kleinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15272501513804176463noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37832878.post-23295815847569386292007-07-01T23:22:00.000+09:002007-07-02T02:58:52.719+09:00

I've been both a recluse and a tourist these past few days in Bangkok. No one would confuse me with Howard Hughes or Syd Barrett; I'm just a traveler taking a break from new the open road. It was merely a combination of travel fatigue and, finally, after five months of pokey service, finding a fast Internet connection. My hotel on Suhkumvit Soi 10 has free ADSL Internet in every room. With a fast

Matthew Kleinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15272501513804176463noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37832878.post-66385640905447747832007-06-26T18:04:00.000+09:002007-07-01T23:21:49.447+09:00

In 1994, in transit between Tokyo and Delhi, I spent one night in Bangkok (insert jokes here). I arrived late in the evening and sacked out on Khao San Road, a haven for backpackers from all over the world. I don't recall much from that visit other than a cheap room with thin walls (the couple in the next room put the walls to the test), polluted air and dense traffic. I left early the next day

Matthew Kleinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15272501513804176463noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37832878.post-32411348557907549032007-06-25T13:53:00.001+09:002007-06-25T16:06:05.373+09:00

I've been a slacker this past week about blogging. It's not that I don't want to blog, to fill you in on my whereabouts. It's just that I've been in a funk over my experience of late. Nothing bad has happened to me. I've just been disappointed over finding out that my expectations, however low they may have been, were not low enough. Bear with me as a complain for a while. It may not be pleasant,

Matthew Kleinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15272501513804176463noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37832878.post-24641747001509314612007-06-19T01:34:00.000+09:002007-06-25T04:06:43.498+09:00

I worked late every Thursday night at my last job, and was famous for ordering Thai. I called it Thai Food Thursdays. It became a sort of running joke that when Matt was working late, there would be a Thai delivery. Do I have to spell it out? I love Thai food. I arrived in Thailand geared up to eat authentic Thai cuisine. I’ve been disappointed by the selection so far. I blame it on the tourist

Matthew Kleinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15272501513804176463noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37832878.post-68536725633411084172007-06-18T22:01:00.000+09:002007-06-20T14:13:40.437+09:00

In late 1989 and early 1990 I spent six months backpacking in Europe, Egpyt and Israel. I was an ignorant kid out in the big bad world for the first time. I started in London, got sidetracked in Amsterdam, did whirlwind tours of Germany, France and Italy before slowing down for two months in Spain and Portugal. With four months of solo travel under my belt, I headed to Egypt for a taste of a

Matthew Kleinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15272501513804176463noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37832878.post-16152496409992879862007-06-14T18:53:00.000+09:002007-06-15T17:44:09.350+09:00

Ko Lanta, Thailand, is a district of 52 island in the Andaman Sea. The islands are lush, the waters clear and fine, the beaches white and wide. The land supplies rubber, cashews and bananas, the sea provides fish. But the main cash crop is tourism. The west coast of Ko Lanta Yai is lined with beaches, with accommodation for every budget, from backpacker novels to luxury resorts. This is not a

Matthew Kleinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15272501513804176463noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37832878.post-45660379308875757782007-06-12T19:13:00.000+09:002007-06-13T10:52:04.021+09:00

It's not all roses and sunshine in the land of smiles. No, my friends, my arrival in Thailand has come with a few rough spots. I’m happy to be here, smiling in fact, but these first few hours have been a test. It's not the full-blown culture shock of Indonesia, but neither has it been the warm welcome of Malaysia and Singapore. Let’s just call it first date jitters. Matt, meet Thailand. Thailand,

Matthew Kleinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15272501513804176463noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37832878.post-34333349521420240692007-06-12T18:54:00.000+09:002007-06-12T19:15:40.476+09:00

Why would I want to buy bees? A sign over the single elevator in my hotel in Hat Yai, Thailand. I’d think twice about sharing this with guests. But that's just me.

Matthew Kleinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15272501513804176463noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37832878.post-57720107577665254622007-06-10T12:42:00.000+09:002007-06-12T00:12:21.098+09:00

I've been quite the slacker since climbing Mount Kinabalu, first recuperating in Kota Kinabalu and then whiling away a few days in Penang, an island off the northwest coast of Malaysia, with a stack of paperbacks ("The Quiet American," a few Lee Child mysteries) and DVDs ("Star Wars," "The Quiet American," "Old Joy," "10 Items or Less"). After four months on the road, a little downtime is a good

Matthew Kleinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15272501513804176463noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37832878.post-85802216264506800432007-06-07T16:55:00.000+09:002007-06-12T01:18:02.244+09:00

I’ve been to desert, ocean, city and swamp. I’ve swum with sharks and sea lions, encountered deadly snakes and wrangled with disingenuous locals. I’ve climbed a bridge, visited temples and photographed skyscrapers. I’ve downed delicious tropical juices and devoured mounds of Chicken Rice. What’s a traveler to do next? How about climbing a mountain?Mount Kinabalu in Malaysian Borneo is thee

Matthew Kleinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15272501513804176463noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37832878.post-50675707952283963922007-06-05T22:25:00.000+09:002007-06-20T14:25:58.089+09:00

First get yourself to Kuala Lumpur. Then fly two and half hours to Kota Kinabalu, a city on the island of Borneo, then travel for six hours by local bus to Sandakan (or fly 45 minutes, your choice). Sixteen miles outside of Sandakan, register with Uncle Tan Wildlife Adventures. After a 90-minute drive through palm oil plantations and countryside, they will deposit you on the banks of the muddy

Matthew Kleinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15272501513804176463noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37832878.post-33827626352827957412007-05-31T21:12:00.000+09:002007-06-08T15:11:54.351+09:00

I first heard about the Sepilok Orangutan Rehabilitation Center, one of the most popular tourist attractions in Malaysian Borneo, from an episode of the television program “Globe Trekker,” a British production in which affable hosts journey to exotic locations. They show is geared toward adventurous travelers, the ones with backpacks who don’t mind public transportation and a little dirt on their

Matthew Kleinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15272501513804176463noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37832878.post-68003476388863708062007-05-31T20:36:00.000+09:002007-05-31T20:46:37.189+09:00

My second piece for Tripmaster Monkey ("Home of Yellow Journalism") went live this week. It is a short version of my culinary tour of Singapore. If you've been reading Packmonkey you know I went overboard on the food. What can I say? I get excited sometimes by new flavors. Click through if you care to revisit chili crab, chicken rice, grilled stingray and the deliciousness known as fish head

Matthew Kleinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15272501513804176463noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37832878.post-91016948490962220822007-05-28T22:18:00.000+09:002007-06-01T08:48:54.804+09:00

Before I hit the road, Borneo was a mystery to me. Is it a country? An island? Are there cannibals? Is it safe? Is it even possible to visit? Well, no, yes, maybe, most of the time and definitely. Borneo, the third-largest island in the world, is not a country in and of itself. Indonesia and Malaysia share most of the real estate. The Malaysian states of Sabah and Sarawak cover the northern third

Matthew Kleinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15272501513804176463noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37832878.post-4425446611688115552007-05-27T21:44:00.001+09:002007-05-28T22:15:40.751+09:00

Anyone who watches the reality television extravaganza "The Amazing Race" would recognize one of Kuala Lumpur's most famous attractions, the Batu Caves. "The Amazing Race" is a scavenger hunt/endurance contest in which teams of two travel around the world in pursuit of a million dollars in cold hard cash. Fans watch the show for the scenery, sure, but most of the fun comes from watching couples,

Matthew Kleinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15272501513804176463noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37832878.post-15617199187762899762007-05-24T22:44:00.000+09:002007-05-25T00:51:49.382+09:00

Sometimes when I'm browsing in a grocery store (or a 7-Eleven even) I stumble on a product that stops me in my tracks. It can be something utterly unappealing (see: Sweet Corn Ice Cream), a product so mysterious I'm unable to begin to guess what it is, or, as was the case today, something that brings a huge smile to my face. I was checking out the selection of cold drinks at the Japanese

Matthew Kleinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15272501513804176463noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37832878.post-34777266318828079232007-05-22T19:56:00.001+09:002007-05-22T21:13:06.986+09:00

I like skyscrapers, the taller the better. The Empire State Building is the grandest of them all, in my opinion. It stood as the tallest in the world for more than 40 years, an astonishing reign. The boxy Twin Towers were ugly as sin but I found comfort in their straight lines and powerful presence. Standing between the towers and looking up was an unparalleled New York experience. The Chrysler

Matthew Kleinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15272501513804176463noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37832878.post-46335594546791834482007-05-22T12:20:00.000+09:002007-05-22T19:50:36.964+09:00

The question I’m asked the most is “Where are you from?” The second is “Are you traveling alone?” After answering this for the hundredth time, I got to thinking about the vicissitudes of being a solo traveler. Whether it’s better to travel alone or not is a debate I will leave for others -- the pros and cons are quite obvious, and neither method is "better." For me, however, going solo is the

Matthew Kleinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15272501513804176463noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37832878.post-8918530326117087032007-05-18T00:22:00.000+09:002007-05-19T22:56:11.760+09:00

Throw a dart at a map of the world and it will likely land somewhere in the middle of an ocean. Throw it again. If it strikes land, chances are it will be someplace you’ve never heard of. Before I arrived in Malaysia, I’d heard of Kuala Lumpur, Penang and Borneo. Everywhere else was just a name on a map.I left Singapore with the goal of traveling way up the east coast of Peninsular Malaysia,

Matthew Kleinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15272501513804176463noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37832878.post-47843967689487501422007-05-12T19:32:00.000+09:002007-05-12T20:46:12.531+09:00

Travelers move, that’s just what they do. The places in between get all the attention, but there is something to be said about the act of getting from one place to another. My route from Pulau Tioman to the beach town of Cherating is a good example of a day on the road. I woke at 6:45 on my third morning in Salang, the tiny enclave at the northern end of Pulau Tioman, an island in the Seribaut

Matthew Kleinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15272501513804176463noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37832878.post-62592198748360211392007-05-12T19:29:00.000+09:002007-05-12T19:31:24.247+09:00

Passport, money and clothes are all anyone really needs to travel. A guidebook helps, but isn’t essential. Nor are cell phones, iPods and cameras. A medical kit is a good idea, as is a good pair of sunglasses (sunnies the Australians call them). I’ve seen travelers break out portable speakers and hair dryers, hiking boots on the beach and designer clothes in the jungle. One woman carried a giant

Matthew Kleinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15272501513804176463noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37832878.post-52033732294510395742007-05-09T16:06:00.000+09:002007-05-12T19:22:08.650+09:00

My greatest fear about Malaysia was that it would be Indonesia Redux. As I write this from a tiny beach called Salang on the island of Pulau Tioman in the South China Sea, I can say with confidence that Malaysia is nothing like Indonesia. All I've seen is a bus rise through the countryside and an isolated island surrounded by turquoise waters, but there's no hard sell here, no sense of

Matthew Kleinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15272501513804176463noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37832878.post-10854061494732728722007-05-06T16:30:00.000+09:002007-05-07T18:01:25.664+09:00

I woke up this morning with a strange feeling. It was something I hadn't experienced in more than three months. It was a sense of peace, a complacency, but it masked something deeper and more complex, something that set me on edge. It was a feeling I'd experienced during my last few weeks in New York City, when I knew there was a trip around the corner, a world waiting to be discovered. I was

Matthew Kleinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15272501513804176463noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37832878.post-62184129332227704872007-05-06T16:01:00.000+09:002007-05-06T16:28:54.058+09:00

My photographs from Singapore are not just about food, despite what you may have read on Packmonkey. I have posted 150 images from the last two weeks. Here are some of my non-edible favorites:Men in GlassOrchidsEsplanade – Theatres on the BayTekka Centre ShrineVivo City DateShuang Lin Monastary Door

Matthew Kleinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15272501513804176463noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37832878.post-7953076652017595012007-05-04T15:49:00.000+09:002007-05-12T19:32:43.141+09:00

Shiok: Singapore slang for “great/excellent/superb.”I’m whole again, thanks for the superhuman, make that supercorporate, efforts of Sony Singapore. I spilled beer on my laptop on Monday night, brought it in for repair on Tuesday morning (a national holiday, no less) and picked it up – complete with a shiny new keyboard – on Thursday afternoon. In my experience computer repair takes a minimum of

Matthew Kleinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15272501513804176463noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37832878.post-52273358426914535842007-05-04T12:47:00.000+09:002007-05-06T15:33:47.367+09:00

A quick post to alert you to a piece I wrote for the web site Tripmaster Monkey ("Home of Yellow Journalism"). TMM is a home-grown affair published by a friendly group of journalists and writers in New York City. It's a volunteer effort and I'm happy that they've asked me to contribute. They've branded it "Packmonkey Tales," complete with a nifty graphic. The first installment revisits my

Matthew Kleinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15272501513804176463noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37832878.post-55899484313514116162007-05-01T13:16:00.000+09:002007-05-04T11:59:58.455+09:00

I've told myself a thousand times to be careful with electronics. I store my laptop in a padded case and stuff it in a plastic bag when it's idle. I keep my phone and iPod in plastic bags, just in case I get caught in an afternoon downpour. So I'm kicking myself because last night I was surfing the web while drinking cheap Tiger beers at the hostel bar. I think you know what happens next. I

Matthew Kleinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15272501513804176463noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37832878.post-28202276327568131142007-04-29T13:44:00.000+09:002007-04-30T11:06:53.201+09:00

Singapore is for Foodies. I’m no a professional, but I know what tastes good. And for me, Asian food is at the top of the heap. If naturally follows that Singapore would give me culinary opportunities I could not pass up. I’ve already written about my chili crab experience, a night of fine dining that delivered a great introduction to local cuisine. But the real deal, the tried and true, the

Matthew Kleinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15272501513804176463noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37832878.post-25549059904133230062007-04-26T17:49:00.000+09:002007-04-28T11:33:39.346+09:00

I have an interest in photography that's been simmering for most of my life. A short experimental phase in high school died a quick death when I realized the cost of film and lab time. Snapshots were taken over the years, but when I look back I've lived a fairly undocumented existence. But this is the digital era, and I'm a digital guy, so now on most days I can be found with either camera

Matthew Kleinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15272501513804176463noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37832878.post-35825900399913837202007-04-25T16:32:00.000+09:002007-04-26T13:18:45.820+09:00

I arrived in Singapore with a shopping list and the knowledge that this may be my last chance to choose among a variety of goods and services for a few months. At the top of the list was a new backpack. My 50-liter Kelty was fine for ten days in Ireland and held up for the first two months of Australia. But the zippers started acting up and it just wasn’t big enough to carry everything. Despite

Matthew Kleinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15272501513804176463noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37832878.post-11611601476429804402007-04-22T23:13:00.000+09:002007-04-23T00:07:53.006+09:00

After two weeks of highs and lows in Indonesia, I've crossed back into the northern hemisphere. I'm in Singapore: island, state, nation. I landed this afternoon, checked into a hostel (in Little India) and then hit the town. It's great to be back in the first world. I now know I have an affinity for orderly traffic patterns and consumer goods. My first stop in Singapore? The cinema. That may

Matthew Kleinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15272501513804176463noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37832878.post-82934333403122127822007-04-20T15:33:00.000+09:002007-08-10T17:51:41.842+09:00

There’s a certain amount of celebrity in being a traveler in some parts of the world. In India, it’s common for groups to gather to watch foreigners. In the public baths in Japan, my chest hair and privates were the focus of intense scrutiny. And from my visit yesterday to the Buddhist temple at Borobudur, where I was one of a handful of Western visitors, there will be pictures of me scattered

Matthew Kleinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15272501513804176463noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37832878.post-27495163685731480262007-04-17T14:52:00.000+09:002007-04-18T17:41:38.758+09:00

I left Lovina on an overnight bus to Probolinggo in East Java with the intention of catching a ride to the volcanoes at Mount Bromo. An afternoon spent trawling the Internet for information about Java turned up an interesting thread on the Lonely Planet discussion board about the most popular scams in Indonesia. The most popular scam is shortchanging tourist when they change money. But what

Matthew Kleinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15272501513804176463noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37832878.post-64210365231512163732007-04-16T16:57:00.000+09:002007-04-16T17:28:46.136+09:00

I know I've been harping on Bali for the past week. While I feel justified in my frustration, I think it's only fair that I write a post explaining why Bali may be the way it is. There was once a booming tourist economy in Bali. Then, in October 2002, terrorists set off bombs in a nightclub in Kuta, killing more than 200 tourists. Three years later, twin bombs went off on the beach in Kuta, again

Matthew Kleinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15272501513804176463noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37832878.post-3111525387164811042007-04-16T12:35:00.000+09:002007-04-16T12:42:03.482+09:00

On my first day in Bali, I decided to escape the hellish streets of Kuta by taking a stroll though one of the bigger resorts on the main street. As a foreigner it was easy to walk by the security checkpoint and into the five-star facility. I walked through the grand lobby, all carved wood and fresh flowers, passed a few people eating snacks in a small café, down some stairs and into the gardens.

Matthew Kleinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15272501513804176463noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37832878.post-9409737252063725172007-04-12T20:32:00.000+09:002007-04-12T21:07:02.536+09:00

I've tried not to be negative on this blog. But there's no time like the present, so here goes...No trip, especially a long trip like this one, is without setbacks. I've been told that travelers hit a wall around two or three months, when questions like "What the hell am I doing" are answered with "I have no idea." I think I've hit that wall. Perhaps it's the culture shock. Perhaps it's me.

Matthew Kleinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15272501513804176463noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37832878.post-58917399597593084092007-04-11T13:42:00.000+09:002007-04-12T20:50:42.738+09:00

It's my third day in Indonesia and I'm happy to say day three has been much better than days one and two. I arrived in the country suffering from a mild flu, not bad enough to knock me off my feet but enough to make every waking hour uncomfortable. I had the easy life in Australia for two months and arriving in Kuta, Bali's tourist mecca, knocked the wind out of my sails. I feel like a neophyte

Matthew Kleinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15272501513804176463noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37832878.post-64646048715558045442007-04-09T06:10:00.000+09:002007-04-09T12:14:48.824+09:00

I'm sitting in the international departures lounge at the Darwin airport. The sun has not yet broken the horizon and I'm not quite awake yet. My last day in Oz was spent sick in bed, my first bout with illness on the trip. At least I booked myself a swanky room with a television and air conditioning. I am on my way to Bali. What awaits me in Asia is a mystery. Nevertheless, I'm excited about

Matthew Kleinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15272501513804176463noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37832878.post-81765796094865624382007-04-07T20:20:00.000+09:002007-04-20T21:01:00.169+09:00

While traveling around Australia I generally avoided buying souvenirs, preferring instead to take a lot of photos and write a detailed blog. I picked up a few things along the way, a couple of maps, an Australian flag sticker, a few plastic thorny devils, but nothing that I would consider a true memento from the trip. Among the trinkets I passed up: boomerangs, carved statuettes, didgeridoos, the

Matthew Kleinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15272501513804176463noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37832878.post-32085933242427956152007-04-06T13:36:00.000+09:002007-04-09T06:09:15.038+09:00

I've posted more than 900 photos from the nine weeks I spent in Australia. To make the job of digesting them a little easier, I've culled 100 favorites and created a photoset. Flickr: Best of AustraliaAnyone who wants to chart my progression from pale and pudgy to tan and lean-ish, here's the set for you: Me Me Me. I head to Bali, Indonesia, on Monday. I'm preparing to switch gears for Southeast

Matthew Kleinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15272501513804176463noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37832878.post-71511889450453881452007-04-04T21:15:00.000+09:002007-04-05T09:12:53.566+09:00

About a month ago in Adelaide, as I was about the set off across the Nullarbor Plain, I decided my New York Times Digital baseball cap wasn’t going to protect me from the harsh Australia sun. Every tour brochure advises that you bring a wide-brimmed hat to protect your ears and neck. I didn’t want a Crocodile Dundee leather hat, or something made of straw. What I was looking for is something an

Matthew Kleinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15272501513804176463noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37832878.post-42464752079486777692007-04-03T16:34:00.000+09:002007-04-03T17:13:42.214+09:00

No journey Down Under would be complete without a visit to Uluru, the giant rock in the center of the country. I saved Uluru for the end of my trip because to go in February or early March would have meant facing temperatures over 100 degrees in the shade. Despite everything I’ve done in Oz, it turns out I saved the best for last. I have been taking a lot of photos on this trip, and getting back

Matthew Kleinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15272501513804176463noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37832878.post-11165150313349289262007-03-21T14:55:00.000+09:002007-03-21T18:49:43.167+09:00

I leave tomorrow, March 22, for a tour into the heart of Australia. I will be traveling from Adelaide to Alice Springs via the Flinders Ranges, the Oodnadatta Track, Coober Pedy, the Simpson Desert, Uluru, Kings Canyon and the Western Macdonnell Ranges. There will also be visits to Aboriginal communities and perhaps a hot spring or two where we can wash off all the red dirt. Perhaps I'll run into

Matthew Kleinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15272501513804176463noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37832878.post-57589324269973809382007-03-20T17:24:00.001+09:002007-03-21T18:56:45.463+09:00

Having spent a week in Perth I was ready to get on the road again. This time, I’d signed up with a company called Western Xposure for a nine-day trip up the west coast, with stops at two places on the beach and a few days in stunning Karijini National Park. The bus picked me up from my hostel at 7 a.m., then stopped at the bus station to load the rest of the passengers. A diverse group included

Matthew Kleinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15272501513804176463noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37832878.post-80279249966738767582007-03-08T18:00:00.000+09:002007-03-08T18:02:26.032+09:00

With a few days to kill before heading north I decided to spend two days at the beach in a Perth neighborhood called Scarborough. The hostel was disgusting and the Mother Nature blasted the city with heatwave. When it’s 108 degrees, the beach is no better than an oven. So I spent 48 hours sweating profusely, downing up to six liters of water a day. The saving grace was the evenings. Around 6 pm,

Matthew Kleinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15272501513804176463noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37832878.post-16151841851154420862007-03-08T17:58:00.000+09:002007-03-09T17:19:19.708+09:00

There’s a company here in Australia called Wicked Campers that specializes in renting, yes, camper vans to independent travelers. The vehicles have been individually spray painted in a variety of designs. Some of the designs are obnoxious (“Random Breast Patrol” and three sets of hooters), some reflect Australian culture and heritage (dolphins or Aboriginal artwork) and others riff on popular

Matthew Kleinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15272501513804176463noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37832878.post-43929377534264535262007-03-08T17:54:00.000+09:002007-03-08T17:57:54.060+09:00

Outside a café on Oxford St. in Leederville, a Perth neighborhood:

Matthew Kleinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15272501513804176463noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37832878.post-62260959204911415922007-03-05T22:01:00.000+09:002007-03-08T13:10:26.134+09:00

I arrived in Perth with a sketchy outline of a plan to get myself a few thousand kilometers north, to a small outpost called Broome – legendary sunsets, camel rides on the beach, etc.. But Perth is the most remote large city on the planet (1.5 million and growing), closer to Bali than to Sydney, and I quickly learned that when you are in the boonies, your options are limited. I had planned to

Matthew Kleinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15272501513804176463noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37832878.post-27681270876742326662007-03-05T21:56:00.000+09:002007-03-05T22:01:41.221+09:00

Now that you’ve read about my snafu, here are some pretty pictures from Perth. Enjoy!Perth Skyline from Kings Park: Kangaroo Sculpture: Dinosaur Decal Art:

Matthew Kleinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15272501513804176463noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37832878.post-15749109537174949812007-03-03T21:49:00.000+09:002007-03-08T18:04:35.777+09:00

(Note: This is the second part of my Nullarbor adventure. Click here for Part One.)DAY 4The rain spit on Fowlers Bay all night long but I was cozy and dry in my tent and slept like a log. Kylie woke the crew at 6 a.m. with am impression of an asthmatic rooster. Having been two hours behind schedule the day before, she was determined to keep up with the itinerary on day four. I crawled out of my

Matthew Kleinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15272501513804176463noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37832878.post-61524078357144049642007-03-02T22:23:00.000+09:002007-03-03T09:38:50.418+09:00

Howdy! I’m in Perth after a nine-day trip that included the Eyre Peninsula, the desolate Nullarbor Plain and the forests of southwest Western Australia. The tour was everything I hoped for and a little more. I came to Australia with the goal of crossing the Nullarbor. A solo traveler’s options for the Nullarbor are limited. Trains and buses make the journey in two days. You can rent a car and

Matthew Kleinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15272501513804176463noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37832878.post-39391526363066552712007-03-02T21:51:00.000+09:002007-03-03T22:58:21.509+09:00

On the second day of my trip from Adeliade to Perth, I was given the chance of a lifetime – a swim with wild sea lions and dolphins. The operators of Baird Bay Ocean Eco Experience, Allan and Trish, have been visiting the sea lions and dolphins of Baird Bay for more than ten years. Over that time, the animals have slowly come to realize the humans are not there to kill them. Unlike most wild

Matthew Kleinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15272501513804176463noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37832878.post-79777297036754466232007-02-20T22:05:00.000+09:002007-02-20T22:24:28.147+09:00

Starting tomorrow, Feb. 21, I will be on the road for nine days on a tour across the Nullarbor Plain in South Australia to Perth in Western Australia. The trip will be a mix of camping and staying in very basic accomodations. I think there might be one day in a town. The itinerary includes bushwalking in the southern Flinders Ranges, swimming with dolphins, sand boarding, desert golf, coastal

Matthew Kleinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15272501513804176463noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37832878.post-34009551501909746302007-02-20T21:51:00.000+09:002007-02-20T22:23:08.524+09:00

Three weeks into my trip and it’s time to take inventory. I intentionally left New York without buying everything I might need for the journey, preferring to pick up supplies on the road based on my needs. In the past few weeks I’ve discarded a few things, sent home some others and picked up gear that I’ll need in the weeks to come. As of today, the following list is evrything I carry. The whole

Matthew Kleinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15272501513804176463noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37832878.post-6887058685013963092007-02-20T17:57:00.000+09:002007-02-20T18:11:04.897+09:00

(Note: This is part three of a series. Scroll down if you missed the first two posts.)The first stop of day three was an hour outside of Port Fairy. A huge crescent of white sand beckoned at the beach at Bridgewater Bay. There was an option to take a boat ride out to Cape Bridgewater to see fur seals, but I chose to enjoy an hour of solitude on the deserted beach. We arrived early enough that

Matthew Kleinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15272501513804176463noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37832878.post-88667582519609911422007-02-20T09:18:00.000+09:002007-02-20T09:53:07.104+09:00

(Note: this is day two of a four day trip. Scroll down for day one if you missed it). In the interest of brevity I will not describe every stop along the Great Ocean Road. It’s enough to say that day two provided adventure and a mind-boggling display from Mother Nature. The cliffs of the Victoria coast are composed of limestone, a porous rock susceptible to erosion and change. The result is

Matthew Kleinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15272501513804176463noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37832878.post-29172899255979774792007-02-19T22:25:00.000+09:002007-02-19T22:45:33.590+09:00

With Sydney, Canberra and Melbourne under my belt, I was ready to leave concrete, skyscrapers and museums for some Australian countryside. After all, this is a land of massive spaces. I am traveling in Australia on my own, with only a backpack. No wheels means I’ve had to open myself to options I once would have never considered. I’ve booked myself into three tours while I’m here, each one of

Matthew Kleinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15272501513804176463noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37832878.post-27036581557891847302007-02-14T20:26:00.000+09:002007-02-20T18:12:56.571+09:00

Three days was just enough to scratch the surface of Melbourne. I rolled in on an overnight bus from Canberra to a city waking up. As I hiked through the empty streets, the lights blinking off as the sun rose, Melbourne immediately presented itself as a viable rival to my new love, Sydney. What I find most surprising is the two cities present different and complementary identities to the

Matthew Kleinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15272501513804176463noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37832878.post-28907150565874750382007-02-14T20:06:00.000+09:002007-02-14T20:08:24.600+09:00

Thanks to everyone who send me suggestions on healthy eating while on the road. The consensus is fresh veggies sautéed in garlic with a grain or pasta. There's no shortage of delicious fresh vegetables in Australia so I’ll give it a go. Any more ideas? Send them on. I’m limited by the fact that I can only buy what I can eat in one to three days.

Matthew Kleinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15272501513804176463noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37832878.post-23098437305395539112007-02-12T19:46:00.000+09:002007-02-12T19:46:29.751+09:00

I'm finding as I travel that the guesthouses and hostels where I spend my nights are all equipped with kitchens. The best way to save a buck on the road is to cook for myself. But I'm realizing I'm not very creative when it comes to making a meal with limited ingredients. So if you are reading this, help me out. Imagine you are staying somewhere for two nights and have to cook for yourself. There

Matthew Kleinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15272501513804176463noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37832878.post-29955973217879185722007-02-12T19:39:00.000+09:002007-02-12T19:51:11.849+09:00

I'm sitting in E:fiftyfive, a basement lounge on Elizabeth Street in downtown MelbourneI've got a tasty stout from New Zealand on my right, a dj is spinning mellow reggae tunes and there's unlimited wireless internet for just $2 ($1 Australian dollar equals about 76 cents U.S.). Buy one beer and you can surf all evening, no hassles, no ticking clock, no worries. (To put this in perspective, the

Matthew Kleinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15272501513804176463noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37832878.post-11893388199171985602007-02-12T19:27:00.000+09:002007-02-12T19:50:13.161+09:00

I’ve been meaning to write something about what’s life has been like during these first days on the road. Before I left New York, I read a few books about long-term, independent travel, and one of the comments I found most valuable was about how a traveler spends his or her time. Consider the daily activities like eating, sleeping and hygiene that everyone must attend to. Then there are the

Matthew Kleinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15272501513804176463noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37832878.post-2178325747269954572007-02-12T19:24:00.000+09:002007-02-12T19:50:39.376+09:00

I’m lucky enough to have the resources to take this time to travel, but not rich enough to travel in style. For the first time in many years, I am staying at hostels and sharing rooms with complete strangers. I don’t do this every night, but when the choice is between paying around $20 for a bed or $50-$100 for a bed, I will choose to pay $20. Once in a while, I need my space and will splash out

Matthew Kleinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15272501513804176463noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37832878.post-54061111328628058042007-02-12T11:08:00.000+09:002007-02-12T18:51:47.736+09:00

I'm in Melbourne after an overnight bus ride from Canberra. I thought the bus ride would be pure hell, but thanks to the travel pillow Emily and Lexi gave me at my going-away party, it wasn't so bad. I slept most of the night, and woke up at 6:30 a.m. as the bus was pulling into Melbourne. As the sun rose and the city woke up, I walked the two miles from the bus station to my hostel. A very nice

Matthew Kleinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15272501513804176463noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37832878.post-17636450457554697542007-02-11T12:35:00.000+09:002007-02-12T18:51:11.664+09:00

Canberra is the capital city of Australia. It is not flashy like Sydney or refined like Melbourne. It is not a place with spectacular natural beauty or unique architecture. But in the two days I’ve spent here I’ve found Canberra to be an easy-going, friendly destination. There are museums galore, a tranquil lake and an interesting history. All in all, enough to keep me occupied and happy. In the

Matthew Kleinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15272501513804176463noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37832878.post-30097691292969611912007-02-10T08:09:00.000+09:002007-02-12T11:33:20.788+09:00

Anyone who visits Australia will sooner or later encounter Vegemite, a spreadable yeast extract that is a national obesssion. Not one to shy away from a culinary challenge, I took the plunge this morning at breakfast at the Canberra hostel. Ingredients: one piece of toast, a mini-pack of vegemite and strawberry jam. The vegemite itself is a dark brown with the consistency of creamy fudge. I had

Matthew Kleinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15272501513804176463noreply@blogger.com1