Humbled in the Jungle (Sinharajah Forest Reserve)

The Sri Lankan coast was proving far too enjoyable. Beers on the beach, working on our tans, eating super fresh seafood... Bah! I'll take Nix back to the jungle, she loves it there.

The UNESCO listed Sinharaja Forest Reserve is the last main undisturbed area of rainforest in Sri Lanka and sounded to me like the perfect place to end our journey through this magical country.

Upon arriving at our guesthouse (Deniyaya National Motel) in Deniyaya, one of the main towns nestled alongside the forest, the owner, Sidney, immediately shoved us in a tuk-tuk and sent us up the mountain given the day's good weather.

We pulled over on the way up for a couple of photo ops over the gloriously lush mountainside.

We also paused on the way to view this chubby little skink who was very nearly decapitated by some anti-skink hooligan on a motorbike.

And about halfway up we stopped at an old temple to observe more different species of moths than we think we'd collectively seen up to that point in our lives.

Hairy guys.

Horned guys.

These speckled dudes.

Moths on Buddha.

So. Many. Moths.

Sri Lanka engages you with the environment like you never thought that you could be. We're truly in love with this country.

After Mothdom we headed to the top of the mountain and went for a walk through some forest and a tea plantation.

The highlight was finally laying our eyes on the Purple Faced Langurs. These monkeys have thick, woolly fur for the higher altitudes that they live at and I've signed up to become a poacher so that I can take one of them back to Oz to keep me warm in winter.

The following morning we awoke bright and early and headed off in search of a waterfall for our morning bath with directions that went like this - 'take your first right, don't cross the new bridge, cross the stone bridge and then turn right at the concrete building' - oh yeah, doesn't sound very ambiguous at all.

We found the "waterfall" and had the place to ourselves.

Sitting quietly in the cool morning air we heard a Barking Deer barking from somewhere in the scrub and then watched it come down to the water for a drink, watched a giant squirrel cross from one side of the river to the other and watched monkeys bouncing around in the trees. 

We walked back to a chorus of Jungle Fowl making their presence felt and finally caught sight of the Sri Lanka Grey Hornbill. He's a little bit less horny than his more well known relatives but no less cool.

On our final day we again woke early and took a tuk-tuk out to the rainforest on dirt tracks that become increasingly treacherous the closer we got. Half an hour later we'd made it, picked up our guide and off we trekked. 

Wildlife sightings included the Hump-Nosed Lizard,

Green Pit Viper,

"Sri Lankan Kangaroo",

more Purple Faced Langurs and the possum-like Western Giant Squirrel,

and these creepy crawlies.

At the midway point we'd worked up quite a stink so it was time for a dip.

Given this was only the shorter trek and essentially just a taste of the jungle (I can be a good husband sometimes) we then turned around and set a cracking pace back to the exit, the guide was clearly done for the morning.

Speaking with our guesthouse owner I learned about his passion and love for the rainforest and commitment in trying to preserve it for future generations. The threats of over development, government corruption, animal poaching and gem stone trading are but a few of the issues he must attempt to tackle. He's using profits from the accommodation and tours that he offers to fund his campaigning efforts and is in the process of getting all his ducks in a row before tackling the issues head on. 

So, what can you do? Just by staying with Sidney you'll be helping his efforts but if you're looking for a really amazing place to volunteer, helping out at his jungle camp and in the organic garden, get in contact with him and go and spend some time there. You would not regret it - spending days bird and mongoose watching in his garden are reason enough.

And that's the end of our time in a county that delivered everything it said that it would and so, so much more. Lovely people (who have a shared disdain for the "mother country"), phenomenal food, wildlife that you couldn't escape if you wanted to and transport that's so much fun and so ridiculously cheap. Sri Lanka really is the full package and we feel like it's only a matter of time before we return to explore it some more.

Chi Phat According to Nicola... A Confession

Every time we end up in the jungle and I complain about the spiders in my personal space, freaking out about possibly having to attempt to pee in the middle of the night and accepting that the amount of sleep I'm going to obtain might as well be zero, well it turns out that these are generally my ideas. For some reason I feel the need to suggest we go to the jungle for god knows what reason and a few months prior I agree it will be fun... Until I'm there and thinking to myself for f*** sake why is this happening AGAIN!!!

Chi Phat is located in the south west of Cambodia and whilst the village used to make its money from logging and poaching, it has completely turned it around to focus on eco tourism and protecting the surrounding jungle and its inhabitants. Someone explained the place to us as 'a real Cambodian village that tourists happen to come to as opposed to a village for tourists' and it is exactly that. After jumping off our bus literally on the side of the highway, we took a two hour boat up the Preak Piphot River to reach our home for the next five nights. 

Accommodation options here are simple - you either stay in a family run guesthouse or you stay in a family's home. We were extremely fortunate in that having located the "pub" and helping ourselves to a beer from their esky, we realised they had rooms in the back yard available and knew it was the place for us. This family were so incredibly friendly, inviting us for lunch and dinner each day, being adopted by their pooch Leup who slept on our doorstep and growled if anything came near, and making friends with their three year old daughter Teda, teaching her English and new games. 

We were made to feel like one of the family and were lucky enough to be included in a rice wine fuelled lunch (the first shots downed at 10.30am) with the extended cousins and uncles and somehow held our own.

We'd walk down the road for our morning noodle soup to have one year olds tearing out of their house to scream hello to us, little boys swarming to show off their fight moves, dogs somehow knowing that we were happy to give them some lovings and a sugarcane juice lady that always appeared as soon as I was craving one. Chi Phat is a pretty awesome village!

We tried our hand at "lobster" fishing, or so it was referred to. We headed out on a boat at about 8pm with nothing but a five pronged spear and a head torch. We cruised along the banks until our guide somehow spotted one and then pow! there was our contribution to tomorrow's lunch. More like a prawn with nippers than a lobster, but still delicious. Excuse the shocking photo.

And then it was time to head to my favourite place... The jungle. Up at the crack of dawn, we took a motorised boat for two hours and then a row boat for 40mins in the hope of some bird spotting.

FINALLY I caught sight of two flying hornbills, one of my favourite birds. Decked out in our finest jungle attire, we were ready to commence the trek.

It was humid and thick, but the best part was the fact that the leeches had decided to go on a feeding frenzy thanks to some heavy rain a few nights earlier. Every five minutes I'd check out my shoes to have to flick off ten of the bastards, our jungle assistant helping with his machete. You'd look at the ground and you could see them reaching out for you - you can definitely see where some horror writers would get their inspiration from! This meant that stopping for a break wasn't so relaxing given you couldn't keep your feet in the same spot for more than a minute. This is the result of the little shitweasels making it through your socks.

We carried on through the jungle to the awesome sound of the gibbons. Still no sightings but they were very close in the tops of the trees. We skipped our lunch stop given our lightening speed and carried on to our camp for the night where we feasted on pumpkin stew and green tea. We had time for an afternoon nap in this delightful set up. Even I had to admit it was super comfortable.

Then in the evening we made our way to a shelter built by the waterhole in the hope of spotting some wildlife. Unfortunately as is so often the case we saw zip. Nothing but a few teeny birds flapping in the undergrowth and getting our hopes up.

At dinner our guide kept flashing his torch underneath the table then proceeded to warn us to watch out for snakes if we go to the toilet during the night (not an issue for me given I'd already spotted a few massive spiders at head height so was not venturing there again, however the alternative of a bush squat meant the likely possibility of having leeches on my bits... Not really liking my options here!). If the king cobra was to bite us then we were literally dead meat because help was too far away, but if it's a normal cobra then don't worry because you just have to get back to the village (ummm... How?) then take a two hour taxi to Sihanoukville where they have the anti-venom at the hospital. Fantastic.

Tucked up in my cosy hammock listening to the jungle was actually nice and the best jungle experience I've had, however due to the bathroom issue I was awake most of the night with a sore stomach and hammocks really aren't made for stomach sleepers. I awoke watched dawn break to the sound of gibbon howls and the flapping of hornbill wings. We set out into the jungle again to make our way back to Chi Phat and the welcoming embrace of Leup.

In order to leave Chi Phat I had to endure another of my favourite pastimes... Riding on the back of a motorbike. My driver was a teenager on a bike with a broken speedo and obviously no helmets. Within the first two minutes we had gone up and down a ramp that I thought there was no way a bike could physically accomplish and then when Brim's driver stopped mine continued to fly onto the one plank ramp to get us onto the river crossing. Sometimes I really dislike travelling.

After the crossing it was a hair raising fifty minute ride on dirt tracks... my butt losing contact with the seat on multiple occasions, my driver covering his eyes so the dirt didn't get in them (who cares about seeing where we are going), dodging potholes and then flying at a ridiculous speed when we finally got to the highway for the few minutes until our destination. I got off that bike with numb cheeks, sweaty palms, shaky knees and trying to somehow blame the whole thing on Brim.

The morals of this story is that I will be purchasing some Air Force grade hammocks when we get home and will be trying my best in the future to NOT make stupid suggestions about sleeping in the jungle.

The Five Frog Fever of the Nam Ha Jungle

We'd come to Luang Namtha to set up a trek and spend some quality time in the Nam Ha National Protected Area. The night at the jungle camp in Thailand and the thought of pushing up mountains in 30°C+ temperatures and humidity tending towards 100%, for some reason, isn't Nix's idea of fun.

So for the first time in over a year I went solo. With my borrowed "non-farang" canvas backpack, enough water to drown a fish and a very heavy heart I kissed my lover goodbye.

We picked up some supplies at the local market, drove half an hour down the road and then hit the trail. 

The gentle incline quickly became a rather steep incline and I began to feel every beer that I'd had over the previous year and soon realised this wasn't going to be a walk in the park.

By 11AM we made it to the top of the first mountain and I was a couple of hours ahead of schedule, really giving it to the Italians and Germans who apparently need to break every five minutes on that first bit. The Germans in particular because, "you know, they a little bit fat". 

We then made our way downhill to stop for lunch at a Lanten village nestled along the Nam Ha River. This group of Lanten people migrated to Laos over one hundred years ago and lived in isolation from the rest of Laos until they were discovered just a few years back. Whilst they've upgraded to some corrugated iron roofing and Western clothing, things are still pretty rustic out there.

It was at this point that the 4/5 difficulty trek began to turn into a 6/5. I had one mouthful of omelette with some sticky rice before politely excusing myself and bringing up part of the previous nights dinner in the bush.

Hoping that was the worst of it, I kept it to myself and we set off again through flat agricultural land. Then we began the ascent up the mountain. About two minutes in I called for a break, got down on my knees and brought up my dinner, breakfast, lunch and everything in between. 

The next couple of hours up the mountain followed a similar theme without the spewing. Every ten minutes I'd stop, guzzle water and then drag myself up off the ground where the threat of leeches were the least of my problems.

Despite my entire body aching and my leg's cramping, I made it to the top to give my most dour look of determination. 

The only things getting me through at this point were A) my guide suggesting we could build a bamboo raft and raft our way back down the river the following day and B) I had no option but to go on given civilisation was hours away.

On we pushed and by 5PM we'd finally made it to camp. Mattresses and pillows were obviously non existent and I was just thankful for a sleeping bag and the mosquito net.

I had a quick bath in the river and laid down to get a couple of hours rest before being dragged out of bed for dinner. 

What a meal. Pork belly stir fry, tomato and freshly foraged fern side dishes, and the centrepiece to any Laos meal, sticky rice. Every element packed full of so much flavour and despite not really being hungry I chowed down.

After dinner we headed down to the river so they could catch the following day's breakfast. The two of them stripped down to their jocks and caught about 10 frogs that got jammed into a water bottle and five or six fish out of the net they'd put in earlier and from just knocking them on the head with the blunt end of their machete. Things are done differently here.

After the fishing expedition we got stuck into the rice wine I went back to bed like a sook.

I obviously gave an impression the next morning that I'd recovered overnight because my guide optimistically stated I was OK and that "he believes". This was despite him constantly telling me during the previous days never ending climb that the second day was much harder.

I jammed in as much food as I could which included my plate constantly being topped up with last nights frogs now fried to crispy perfection. 

I also passed a massive test when I enjoyed the bitter green veggie foraged from the jungle, "no tourist ever like this one. You like Lao person now!" 

Off we marched after breakfast. The jungle got denser with more roots than yesterday trying to grab at your shoes and the heat and humidity immediately took hold and I began to perspire like a p*edo in a playground.

Halfway up the first of the days three peaks I sat down to take in a few big ones and wondered what happened to that bloody raft I was promised. I was pretty happy with proceedings at this point.

We pushed on and on and finally reached the peak before descending back down to have lunch, all squatting around a banana leaf getting ravaged by mosquitoes and whatever else took a liking to us. A leech had a little go at my leg for a few minutes.

Leeches are fun little bastards. My guide was telling me the previous day that there are three kinds in the Nam Ha NPA. The first two are just your run of the mill little bloodsuckers that work their way up your shoes and sometimes inside your socks but the one to look out for is the Tiger Leech, so named because they leap from trees to cling on for a feasting.

Things took an interesting turn after lunch. Five stern Laos men, two with massive rifles strapped to their backs, emerged from an opening and began a semi heated exchange with my guide and his assistant. Just as I began to reach for my wallet to get us out of whatever shit we were in my guide translated that someone had been cutting down a tree and they were on their trail.

After ten minutes of trekking together we found the 200 year old tree that had been sawed into bits ready to be sent down the river. My guide told me that maybe 100-200 animals can be affected by the cutting down of just one tree and that if he saw three felled trees he'd cry. He's no wimp, he just echoes what so many Lao people feel about the jungle and its animal and plant life and the importance that they hold.

My struggles paled in comparison after that and I somehow made it to the end, crossing the river and washing away the days sweat and dirt in the confluence of the Nam Ha and Nam Tha rivers.

I made it, I was proud and someone was just a little bit excited to see me after 36 hours that felt like 36 days.

Luang Namtha itself is a sleepy little place with an interesting morning market and a cracking night market. Every night we'd plonk down at the night market acquainting ourselves with the famous Beerlao and flicking the bones of the best roast pork and roast duck we've ever had to a pack of very well behaved pooches and pussy cats. 

Sometimes not all that well behaved...

Observations Made on the Bus to Luang Namtha

• Potentially a dead woman who looked like she'd been clipped by a car and lay sprawled out on the side of the road
• A strange looking dead, stiff weasel/dog/Tasmanian Tiger thing on a villager's roof
• More kittens, puppies, piglets, ducklings and chicks running around than you've ever seen in your life
• The bloke behind us spending two hours hocking up spewwy oysters or spewsters, if you will