In 2005, a 20 year old newbie backpacker trudged through the Cambodian border at Aranyaprathet on foot and her first instinct was to reach for a stack of paper in her 65L backpack. Just to locate the section, “At the Poi Pet border… expect to pay extra for a Cambodian visa”, and additional instructions on how to bribe immigration officials, hitch a pick up truck, ride a shared taxi, or board a minibus to Siem Reap after clearing immigration. That was my first introduction to the world of crossing land borders. It was also the first of the series of month-long backpacking trips to come, the short regional jaunts that would come to define my time at university.
If I were to do it again today, knowing what I know now, and owning what I now own — an iPhone — things would have been simpler:
Travelfish.org has been my exclusive source of travel information in Southeast Asia since they opened for business. When I saw it for the first time, I told many friends that I would never buy another travel guidebook for Southeast Asia again. Five years on, many of them didn’t believe me, but that held true — the well-written online guide to many Southeast Asian countries is still free, and even better. Five or more years of travelling the region with Travelfish meant I’ve discovered many personal favourites through it. From the lovely cottages and wonderful food of Chiang Dao Nest, to the former Golden Triangle of Mae Salong, to the Gibbon Experience Project, and what smaller temples one should see other than the Angkor Wat itself, I mostly learned about them on Travelfish.
The first Travelfish iPhone app covers Angkor, or rather the town of Siem Reap and the nearby temples of the magnificent Angkor Wat. I’m a fan of both Cambodia and of the iPhone, and I continue to be fascinated by the direction travel seems to be going with all the possibilities on smart mobile computing devices like the iPhone. While there are many apps that help travellers find out where they are and how to get there and when (GPS apps, travel itinerary apps like TripIt’s, apps to find restaurants nearby), I’m more interested in where I should go, and why. A combination of Travelfish’s good writing and the intuitive nature of a well-designed iPhone app, I thought at some point, would be a breakthrough. So when Stuart announced the launch of their first ever iPhone app, Angkor, I jumped on the opportunity to review it.
Weighing in at a reasonable 43.6 MB, the app works great offline — which is a huge plus for travellers on the go without connectivity. The menu is laid out in 8 clear sections, in large icons. Tap on any of those icons, and that’s where it gets interesting. 
The app is locked in landscape mode, which suits the way they’ve thought about user experience. You drag your finger to the left and right of a series of flash cards in each section: overview, map, district, type of hotel/restaurant/activity. I’m particularly excited by the fact that maps work great offline and get even better with connectivity. I don’t always have data on my phone when I travel, but wifi spots are easily located. I can think of plenty of ways in which the maps feature could change the way I travel. Instead of using Google Maps and having to input the address of where I’m going (always a chore because address formats and spelling is so frequently frustrating in this part of the world, or in a language you can’t write), with data access I can simply locate myself on the inbuilt map that’s pre-populated with Travelfish-recommended hotels, bars, restaurants, and also with useful spots like transport locations. The filters let you turn on and off each category of landmarks on the map — again, very useful. The four walking tours suggested in the app are also marked out on the map, and you can turn any of them on or off. I can see how useful it would be if I were walking around Angkor Thom, needed to see what the nearest temple to drive to was, and whether it was worth making a detour: I can simply locate myself, tap any of the nearby pins and read all about them.
Other sections are Background, Sleep, Eat and Meet, See and Do, Transport, Walking tours and Photos. Having been to Angkor/Siem Reap several times, I’m familiar enough with the area to say the recommendations and reviews are spot-on, and the writing a joy to read. More importantly, at US$7.99, it’s a steal for all that valuable information — and for the pleasurable experience of using such a well-designed, well-written app. Download now. Leave the guidebook at home. There’s another one for Koh Samet as well (in case you’re in Bangkok and planning an island getaway). I truly believe they’ve set the bar for travel guides on the go.
Alpha and Omega
Everything starts and ends with India.
I am always coming and going to India.
Every post of significance here, these days, seems to have to do with the going and returning and yearning for India.
I spent all of 2008 yearning for adventure, 2009 living it, 2010 wanting a bed, a pillow and a bedfellow. 2010 is here and I find I’m leading the life I wanted in 2005 (a good thing). Now I am (still) a writer, (still) a photographer, but also business owner, ice cream professional, and more.
Responsibility is a hard game to play; I no longer live for myself but for others, and it is increasingly harder to leave. I’ve traded up from chappals and hobo attire to (sometimes) proper business shirts and name cards. ‘Carefree’ is no longer an applicable word when you’ve started to build a family. “Home” is a state of mind, not the state of your possessions. My “home” is Singapore but it is not my home. My home is India but it is not “home”. Malaysia is where my wardrobe, room, cutlery, dog, cat and heart are — and yet it will never give me legal abode.
A recent feature article about me in our Chinese papers was oddly poignant, and ended on a pensive note. They called me a nomad, but instead used the Chinese equivalent, “you mu ren”. It is not the same yurts, tents or gypsies that are conveyed from the English “nomad”, nor the electronic nomadism of the “digital nomad” I pretend to be. In Chinese, the language I continue to learn and be amazed by as I grow with it, “you mu ren” is a person who travels and herds, instantly conjuring up ideas of plains and steppes, mountains and forests. The article ends, “I only know I have to go./ To leave, is sometimes to come home./ To come home, is sometimes for leaving again.”
5 days in Manila, followed immediately by a month in the motherland — racing autorickshaws all around the South. I keep saying the country gives me perspective.
I sometimes forget it is the ground beneath my feet.