To us, a theme park is generally full of rollercoasters and people in big animal costumes. The Chinese, it would appear, have an entirely different idea. Haw Par Villa in Singapore is billed as a Chinese theme park. There are no log flumes or big drops, but there are plenty of weird statues and small wooden men being tortured. It’s an interesting idea, and perhaps one that Alton Towers would do well to take on board.

We have been exploring some of the remotest country in southern Mongolia for almost a week. A convoy of bright orange Land Rovers snaking across the steppes and roaring over dunes, mapping a territory that in places has never before been visited by outsiders.

There are taxi-boats in cities all over South East Asia but even the ‘longtails’ of Bangkok would have trouble keeping up with the waterborne fighter-pilots who parry and slice among the pillars of Brunei’s Kampong Ayer. In a spear-shaped, high-speed launch – emblazoned with BMW and Ferrari decals – just arriving in the stilted water village can be an exhilarating experience.

But as the snarl of the outboard motor recedes into the distance you realise that you have traded the marble-and-glass malls of the Bruneian capital for a peaceful and almost timeless ‘Waterworld’ of winding canals and snaking timber walkways.

Kampong Ayer is still the largest stilted water-village in the world and its 28 separate wards combine to make an entire city, complete with schools, clinics, mosques, shops, floating petrol stations and markets. There are even waterborne police and fire-services, and a jail (although there are rarely any inmates). There are elderly people who have not set foot on terra firma for years and there are hundreds of cats that must think they are indeed the castaway inhabitants of a ‘Waterworld.’

Arriving at KL’s ultra-sleek international airport you pick up a city-bound shuttle-bus ticket from a well-signposted, well-ordered and well-run ticket counter – or you catch a taxi with a meter that works! – and struggle to remind yourself that you have arrived in Asia. The hour-long drive down a smooth highway, edged with manicured gardens and crowded with luxury 4x4s, bypasses the technological wonderland of Cyberjaya. By the time you catch sight of the gleaming twin spires of Petronas Towers, presiding over a skyline that has been described as ‘Manhattan of the East,’ you are further than ever from understanding how this impressive metropolis could ever have deserved the name Kuala Lumpur (Muddy Estuary).

David Whitley and his travelling compadre get a dose of culture and wildlife in Bali...

There are some people who aren’t designed for travelling, and Nick is almost certainly one of them. He’s the sort that inevitably gets a nosebleed the moment he leaves the confines of his home town, and became a legend for shouting: “SANDWICH! CHICKEN!” in a noble bid to cross the language barrier with those funny foreigners in a Dublin café.

But, cut out for it or not, he is determined to see a wild monkey. And that’s how we’ve ended up in Ubud.

It becomes immediately clear why Australians have such affection for Bali, as the locals adhere strictly to the no-messing-about naming culture popularised by the Great Barrier Reef and the Big Banana. It’s a road, and it leads to a forest full of monkeys, so let’s call it Monkey Forest Road. Perfect.

Nick is, to put it mildly, rather excited about the Monkey Forest. It may be full of gorgeous Hindu temples and tranquil woodland, but he’s here “to catch me a monkey”. It’s a big moment for him, and quite frankly, the trip would never have happened in the first place if the prospect of primate encounters wasn’t dangled in front of him like a juicy carrot.

A popular Thai refrain has it that ‘he who sees Bangkok will always return to the City of Angels.’

This tenet could just as easily apply to the country as a whole. Thailand has long held an enviable place as one of the world’s favourite tourist destinations and its testament to the exoticism, fascination and pure Asian charm that the majority of visitors who come to ‘the land of smiles’ are lured back time and again.

Vietnam could be described as ‘a tall country that is much more up and down than sideways.’ Go almost anywhere from Saigon and it seems that you are likely to be involved in a fairly long journey. Fortunately overland travel in ‘Nam is as comfortable as it is inexpensive. After a summer spent on air-con-frigid and salsa-blasted long-distance night buses up the length of Central America just the sight of a bus terminal waiting room was beginning to bring on a sudden urge to scramble for a thick woolly ‘chomper’ and a set of ear-plugs. Last month I made the 48 hour bus journey from KL to Bangkok. Even Central American buses are streets ahead of the sort of comforts offered by our beloved National Express and Malay and Thai long distance buses are extremely good.

Even so I was slightly dubious about the prospects of a further 24 hours on a Vietnamese bus travelling from Saigon to Danang. But the winner in this year’s Markies Travel Awards for the ‘world’s best long distance buses’ definitely goes to Vietnam! 

Vietnam was a detour from my original schedule. I had been heading there many times. But the only thing that is 100% certain in Asia is that the unexpected is sure to happen. The gods of travel had for one reason or another always deemed that I should head off on another tangent (usually following assignments to other areas...in some cases much less appealing). And once again I missed out on Vietnam. I have been in Thailand perhaps a dozen times and this time I was determined not to get sidetracked so from the very beginning I had scheduled Vietnam as a 3-week side-trip from my RTW route.

I had heard that Saigon is an addiction. “Once you get to know it,” one old Asia hand had told me, “you will certainly fall in love with it and you won’t want to go anywhere else.” I nodded noncommittally, thinking it unlikely that it would ever rival Bangkok for pure excitement. I have always rated Bangkok as one of the most fascinating cities in the world. (This is no definitive list but Marrakech, Istanbul, Mexico City and New York would certainly also feature).

Time almost seems to stand still at The Coliseum. This KL icon is close to celebrating its 100th birthday and has changed little since the good old days when planters used to occupy the rented rooms and colonial engineers used to meet here for sundowners. The bar is said to be the highest bar in South East Asia: it was ergonomically designed at a time long before the term was even thought of and is placed ‘exactly at the height of the average Englishman’s elbow.’

The old bar has seen some wild nights and the loyal crowd of staunch regulars regularly threaten to rebel (or, worse, desert) whenever the owner threatens to refurbish or even just paint the tobacco-stained walls.

Lai Foong Coffee Shop has been a fixture of Chinatown’s Tun Tan Cheng Lock street for more than fifty years now. It is actually a collection of half a dozen frantically hectic eateries and is famous for Lai Foong Beef Noodles and for what must be the most tooth-rottingly sweet coffee in Malaysia.

The rushing waiters yell in shrill Chinese and from the surrounding tables you can hear voices chattering in Malay, Mandarin, Cantonese, English and Tamil. The cultural mix is as mind-bogglingly diverse as the menu.

Four ringgit will get you a heaped serving of delicious Penang Fried Kuey Teow – thick noodles served with egg, chicken and vegetable...but for just a little more you can get a plate of omasum, or cow intestines. The board of fare also offers tripe, lean meat, tendon and what is described simply as ‘balls.’

You can wash your tendons and balls down with a glass of something that the menu calls Jolly Shady. Presumably this is in fact a shandy. Not being a Muslim establishment, Royal Stout, Guinness and Tiger Beer are also on offer. There’s also Carlsberg Special Brew which reminds me only of High School Days but to which the Chinese typically have attributed some supernatural health-giving powers. But then the Chinese see aphrodisiac qualities in everything.