Over the last two weeks I’ve been somewhat distracted in Raja Ampat. How distracted? Distracted enough to forget that as I was sliding into the water a couple of weeks ago, Couchfish turned three. With that in mind, I thought I’d revisit a few of my favourite posts from the last three years. Favourite because they were fun to write, experience or sometimes even both. I’ve purposefully concentrated on the “travel as an act” pieces rather than the more industry-focused material.
By the water, Prachuap Khiri Khan. Photo: Stuart McDonald.
I’ve made all the following free to read, as some are from the paid-for itinerary posts. To my readers, thank you for your support over the years—I hope you’ve enjoyed my missives as much as I’ve (mostly!) enjoyed writing them.
If you’re on the free list, and enjoy the stories below, please consider becoming a paid Couchfish subscriber. A subscription costs US$7 per month and gives you access to the full archives, which includes over 350 itinerary pieces—you can upgrade your account via the prompt below. You can see most of the itinerary posts marked up on a map here (though it is a little out of date, as I’m now in Solo on Java). If you’re fine with a free subscription, thanks for reading along.
Always get off the boat
This was the second part in a two-part series on the joys of the unplanned. Travelling in eastern Indonesia, my boat turned out to not be going where I planned, and while that was not ideal, local hospitality replaced a prompt arrival time. You can also read the first part here.
On the joys of getting lost
In a world where some people plan their trips to the point where they resemble a military expedition, sometimes it pays to throw it all out the window. In this, the only “fictional” piece on Couchfish, I write about the pleasures of exploring the unknown. Get off the train at the wrong station, catch the wrong bus—on purpose, or just walk in the opposite direction. For all the talk of Southeast Asia being overrun, most of the region is anything but.
Getting all pensive at Candi Dasa. Photo: Start McDonald.
Where do we put our head down?
Oh boy, where to start when it comes to hotels. Aside from the below-mentioned haunted one, here is one of the weirdest, one of the least-considered, and one of my favourites.
You said you wanted what nobody sees
My good friend Chris often tells me a better title for Couchfish is “How am I still alive.” He says this on account of the number of less than ideal situations I manage to insert myself into—mostly through my own stupidity. In this piece though, I describe an experience that, well, I don’t think anyone could have planned for.
The people you meet
This piece, on “single serving friends” followed on from a piece on an unusual tattoo I saw in Vietnam’s Rạch Giá. A reader had got in touch asking what I meant by the term, and this was the result. Please, if you’re confused about anything I write, let me know as it will, more often than not, give me something else to write about!
Shifting focus. Wasps and painted boards in Pailin. Photo: Nicky Sullivan.
The people you don’t meet
I’ve written a few times on the people I’ve met over my thirty years of travelling around in circles in Southeast Asia. Sometimes though, the story is about who I haven’t met—in this case, a war criminal. A friend though, did.
The people you wish you never met
Competitive and/or whining travellers are one of my favourite bugbears, and these—one from Laos and one from Thailand—are two of my favourite pieces on the topic. Then, of course, there is the fabulist, the long-con man, the unhinged, ... the list be long and messy.
The stuff you can see and smell
While on the road, travellers so often fixate on what they see—fewer though on what they can smell. On what you see, Southeast Asia does colour rather well.
One man, one boat. Gili Pudu, Sumbawa. Photo: Stuart McDonald.
The stuff you cannot
Southeast Asia turned me into a believer when it comes to ghosts, and I write about them a lot. Some of my favourites include the haunted hotel in Sekong, and, well, near anything to do with Bali—particularly if it concerns balians or things that go bang in the night.
Why do we do what we do?
This piece on asking why people travel generated more emails than any other—and it is also one of my favourites. It’s easy to turn your nose up at “tourist hordes” but people travel for all manner of reasons, and sometimes it takes a while to get to the bottom of why.
Couchfish readers are everywhere. In Makassar, Sulawesi a few days ago. Photo: I have no idea.
And that’s a wrap—thanks for reading along, and if you do have any questions, please do not hesitate to ask. If you’ve got a personal favourite from the archives, do feel free to share your faves in the comments below.
Good travels!
Couchfish is 100 per cent independent and reader-supported. If you’re not already a subscriber, and you’d like to show your support, become a paying subscriber today for just US$7 per month—you can find out more about Couchfish here—or simply share this story with a friend.
Don’t forget, you can find the free podcasts on Apple, Pocket Casts and Spotify as well as right here on Couchfish.
Couchfish: Colours, People, Ghosts And More