I got back yesterday from another magical trip to Bali (sorry I didn’t blog when I was away, but I really don’t like sitting in internet cafes with other travellers updating their facebook status). Last year when I won Travel Book of the Year I also ‘won’ a bunch of nights at any one of the Small Luxury Hotels of the World and I chose to stay at the The Viceroy in Ubud and the The Bale in Nusa Dua (plus we threw in a few nights on the Gili Islands in between). Both hotels (I’d call them hotels rather than resorts although they have all the resort facilities) were luxurious beyond words (or any words I can think of at least).

We (my girlfriend Beth and I) began our extraordinarily extravagant escape at The Viceroy in Ubud. Our villa (there are only 11 very private villas at the Viceroy) overlooked a deep ravine thick with jungle (and monkeys). It was all those little ‘touches’ that made it extraordinary, though. There were the usual luxurious touches like monogrammed bathrobes, chocolates on the pillow, fluffy towels and slippers, but there was also indoor and outdoor showers that could fit four or five people, a private (heated) swimming pool, personal driver and a telephone in the toilet. Oh, and there is a helicopter pad next to reception (pity my helicopter was in for repair last week).

Next we scummed it in the Gili Islands (our room didn’t come with a ‘turn down service’). But, it was just as magical with breakfast served in a little hut right over the water and we rode bikes around the Island, swam in the crystal clear waters, went snorkelling, ate great fresh seafood and got offered to buy magic mushrooms a lot.

We ended our tropical treat at the The Bale in Nusa Dua. I knew we were in for some serious luxury when our chauffeur picked us up from the port. First he handed us a flower scented wet towel followed by ice cold water and a bowl of gourmet nuts served on a silver tray. Our ‘pavillion’ was seriously bigger that my apartment – even our private pool was bigger than my apartment! Our ‘deluxe pavillion’ even included a 24-hour butler. A butler! We did feel a bit strange calling on our butler, though (we could shine our own shoes). I could go on and on, but it will just make you jealous when I tell you about our free massages, breakfast and dinner in our private villa, beach club with sunbed service, personal driver and, best of all, a cookie jar that was replenished twice a day.

So, it’s a bit depressing now – we’re back to cold wintry Melbourne and the next time we travel it will back to cheap guesthouses with no slippers… or cookie jars.

And here’s a few pics to make you even more jealous:

Our own private pool and ‘breakfast hut’ – The Viceroy, Ubud

The main pool – The Viceroy, Ubud

Lunch with a view – outside of Ubud

The lunch – Nasi Campur

Another lunch in Ubud – we didn’t eat the head, though.

The boat to the Gili Islands arrives ’some day’

Our ‘breakfast hut’ – Coral Beach 1, Gili Trawangan

The view from our ‘breakfast hut’

Horse & buggy and bicycle are the only ‘modes’ of transport on the Gili Islands.

Gili Air (there are three ‘Gili’ Islands in the group – Gili Trawangan, Gili Air and Gili Meno)

Lombok (a fleeting visit)

Our room at The Balé, Nusa Dua

Our own private garden and pool at The Balé

Breakfast served in our private garden (yes, what an indulgence!)

Dinner in our own private garden (yes, that’s just way too much indulgence!)

Although I don’t consider myself a ‘great’ photographer here are some of my favourite shots from my travels (well, my most recent travels with a good digital camera at least because I can’t be bothered scanning all my old 35mm print photos).

Baucau, East Timor

Baucau, East Timor

Vientiane, Laos

Mürren, Switzerland (and my daughter Jasmine)

Bagan, Burma

Bedugul, Bali

Rangoon, Burma

Yogyakarta, Indonesia

Hervey Bay, Queensland

Peterson, Minnesota, USA

Chicken fighting, Baucau, East Timor

Dili, East Timor

I started my Thailand leg in Patong Beach. Back in 1975 there was only one place to stay. And that was the Patong Beach Restaurant, which offered you ‘a patch on the floor for 11 cents (and a mat to put on it for another 8 cents!). The 1975 Lonely Planet guide says: ‘The two sure signs of a freak centre have already gone up, the “no nude bathing” sign and fruit salad on the menu.’ Well, it sure is still a freak centre (and they still have fruit salad on the menus). The most freakish thing is the sleazy men who watch Thai girls perform tricks with intinate parts of their anatomy.  My travelling partner Beth and I strolled down the street past lines of Go Go Girl bars and we were accosted every few metres by men holding up cards with the ‘entertainment’ provided by their prospective ‘club’. On the list were the usual ‘tricks’ involving ping pong balls, cigarettes and marker pens. But there were also ‘tricks’ involving catfish, swamp eels, mice and even ‘knitting’. I talked Beth into going to a show (we were both keen to see the swamp eels) , but she only lasted 8 seconds before we both ran out in disgust. Mind you, watching a woman ‘knitting’ would have been interesting.

After a few days on Phuket we headed to Bangkok where we stayed in two of the original hotels from the 1974 guidebook. The Malaysia Hotel was the No. 1 travellers hotel back in 74 although you had to ‘fight to get toilet paper and your sink may fall off the wall’. The sinks stayed firmly attached when we were there although most of the clientele would have liked to get hold off my pipes. It is now pretty much a ‘gay’ hotel. It was full of men with large moustaches wearing tight little shorts with deep brown tans. I got winked at quite a few times and I caught one guy checking out my bottom.

In  Chiang Mai we went a restaurant that was listed in the original guidebook, but it seemed to have moved – and changed it’s name slightly. We asked a tuk tuk driver if he knew where Pat’s restaurant was and he didn’t know but called a friend on his mobile phone who did. The Pat’s from 1974 was ‘near the moat’. We drove over the moat and out of town past the airport and somewhere between Chiang Mai and the Laos border we stopped at a restaurant called ‘Pat Restaurant’. We were the only diners, but the food was nice (and nice and cheap). We did have a bit of trouble getting back into town, though. There were no taxis or tuk tuks in sight and we had to walk along  the side of a dark freeway stepping over rubbish and dead dogs.  When we stumbled across a taxi driver having a rest in a large supermarket carpark I almost hugged him I was so excited.

So, there are lots more stories from Thailand, but I can’t tell you all of them or you won’t need to buy the book!

That is just one of the delightful names of a ‘racing’ cockroach at the 28th annual Australia day Cockroach Races held in Brisbane, Queensland. I was there a couple of weeks ago, but I’ve been so busy with my launch of my new book and the publicity that I haven’t had time to post a blog about it. I was ‘participating’ in the cocky races as part of a ’special’ project I’m working on. Well, when I say ‘participating’ I didn’t actually race, but my stable of ‘cockroaches’ did. Colin and Kevin were up against some stiff competition, though, including Soft Cocky, I’ve got a Big Cockroach, Irish Cock,  Priscilla ‘Queen Of The Drains’, Osama Bin Liner, Ita Buttroach and just about every cock reference you could ever think of. The venue for the Cocky Races is the Story Bridge Hotel, which packed in 2,000 Cocky fans (or more like beer fans actually) to watch fourteen races, live music, topless girls getting ‘dunked’ and the crowning of the prestigious ‘Miss Cocky’ competition.

How the cocky race works is quite simple: Forty roaches (which have numbers painted on their backs) are dumped from a bucket into the centre of a ring and the first one to cross the line out of the ring – and over the audience’s feet – is the winner.

Colin and Kevin didn’t even place. Even after I tried to knock out (or more like knock off) his fellow racers with my Lure and Kill. And to top it off… poor Colin got squished. Okay, it may have been me who squished him.

... and they're racing.

The crowning of Miss Cocky.

The Boys.

The Girls.

A squished Cocky.

and the winner is...

...the VB girls.

The next day Tony and I jumped on scooters and raced out into the countryside. I didn’t get much of a chance to admire the view, though. I was concentrating too hard keeping up with Tony who sped in and out of traffic like one of the locals. At one point we stopped to take a photo of a spectacular view of Lake Batur and within seconds a couple of locals appeared out of nowhere trying to sell us sarongs and T-shirts. When the lady said to Tony ‘ for you special price’ I laughed and said to Tony, ‘You must have heard that a few times.’ In 36 years of almost constant travelling I’m guessing Tony would have heard that a few hundred thousand times.

It was such a privilege to have Tony join me for part of my journey with the original Southeast Asia on a shoestring. Not only was it the highlight of my trip it will undoubtedly be a highlight of the book. 

Brian and Tony on the way to Lake Batur, Bali.

'For you special price...'