Where in the World are Mary and Steve?

Down, But Definitely Not Out

2009-03-19T22:48:00.000-07:00

We've been keeping a low key over these last several months. Life back home in California can do that even to the most motivated of individuals. A life of leisure is way too easy to slink back into and that's what we have been enjoying since our return in July 2008. Wow, that was a long time ago. In that time we've kept ourselves busy. Steve's back into hockey, ice and roller, while also improving his tennis game and babysitting skills. I've been enjoying beach volleyball, joined the Santa Monica College tennis team, taking art classes, picking up ballet, and catching up on video games. We also have watched alongside everyone else as the economy dropped off the ledge. Thus the impetus for us to once again turn our attention abroad. We're looking into resuming our world exploration in Central America this April. Everything else is up in the air, including how long we'll be gone. So we're gearing up to hit road, dusting off the backpacks, and looking for our mosquito net. This lengthy nap in our travels is near its end. The blog is coming out of its hibernation and back to life.

I'm Not Good with Goodbyes

2008-09-04T14:34:00.000-07:00

I know 3 months is a short time to call a place home but Paris was that; more so than anywhere else we'd been in our crazy adventure. Of course we had copious amounts of the foods we've come to love. Ah, chiboust I will miss you so. And what will our friendly waiter at O'Jilou think when he notices the Americans aren't coming by to butcher his native language anymore? How will I ever get by without my gelato fix at Amorino? It seems cruel to separate me from Fauchon so soon. Sure the departure was largely self imposed but it was time to move on and bring the travel to a close. At least we were leaving on our terms. Next time we go to Paris it would be to live there. But for now, au revoir.

NEW BLOG SITE!

2008-06-11T06:17:00.000-07:00

http://www.prefectlife.net/

I may not get around to writing blogs very often, but I have found a bit of time to play around with the website. I've pulled the blog into the prefectlife.net website, so you only have to remember the same old website name. How nice is that? I'll leave this site here for a while, but all the old posts and your comments are safe and sane on the new site.

yet another vacation vacation

2008-05-24T16:26:00.000-07:00

We're off on another adventure. Tonight we fly to Valencia, Spain to meet Mary's mom and brother for a 10 day tour. We'll spend a few days in southern Spain, seeing the Alhambra and a bit of the frontier before crossing the Straits of Gibralter and moving through Morocco. That means back to sleeping under the stars in the desert for us. I'm pretty accustomed now to hot showers and a clean sheet, so this is going to be rough.

We'll be following some of the same trail that we did almost exactly two years ago in Morocco. We pick up our car in Tangier and will drive to Fes the night. After wandering the ancient medina of Fes, we'll head out to the big dunes near Merzouga. We'll spend as much time on camels as our butts will allow and then head south, hopefully finding the Tondra Gorge and some nice kasbahs on our way to Oarzazate. The trip will finish up in Marrakech with our flight home on June 4th.

Until then, au revoir.

ps. we'll leave the key to our place under the doormat if you're passing through Paris while we're gone. Just do the dishes before you leave, please.

Starbucks will never make it in Europe...

2008-05-09T14:42:00.000-07:00

We headed into the Latin Quarter tonight for the beginning of a two week jazz festival. There's a few shows most nights in different venues and a bunch of the small ones are free. Very cool and cultural and Parisian, right?
There were 4 concerts tonight and 3 of them were in a Starbucks. The Latin Quarter isn't all that big, but there are at least 4 of Seattle's best affront to the Old World in place.
Welcome to the Americanification of Europe. Buy Starbucks stock.

Singing The Baguette Blues

2008-05-09T14:39:00.000-07:00

We both love the bread in Europe. A warm baguette with lots of super crunchy crust and moist fluffy innards makes any day better.
Most mornings, I run across the street to get a fresh baguette and then fry up some bacon and eggs to complete a perfect brunch. Yes 'brunch'. It's light out until nearly 10pm here, so we're night owls these days.
So the whole daily fresh baguette thing is great and all, but we've discovered that the grass is not always greener. Several times now, we've bitten into (and been bitten back by) squishy, dense or otherwise boring bread. It's horrible. We're not in Milpitas; this is Paris. We have expectations to be met. The bread should -always- be crisp and yummy.
We've boiled down a few theories to these rules:
4) Don't buy on a Monday morning or after a holiday. The oven just doesn't have its heart into the job yet.
3) Skip it on a humid or wet day. It's just not worth the risk.
2) Think twice if the counter girl says "blahblah pas bien blahblah"
1) NEVER EVER buy at the Naturalia grocery. Even if they are the only boulangerie open on Sunday. UGGGG. Healthy bread in any language sucks.

Mary says: the baguettes from the Nature store are like Cold War bread 'da! you veel eat rock!' but today we found a boulangerie that sells the lustiest bread we've had. it's simply glorious.

Paris!

2008-04-29T11:57:00.001-07:00

After 2 years, 2 weeks, 2 days and 38 countries, we have finally reached the end of our envisioned trip. We realized long ago that too quick a move back to civilization would likely cause headaches and internal bleeding, so we decided that Paris would be our method to slowly and safely try out 'normal' life again.

We have a cute little apartment in the Marais district just a 10 minute walk from the Louvre and Notre Dame. What's 'little'? How about 350 square feet. That's smaller than our bedroom at the Los Gatos house. And we're very happy to have so much space in this part of town. There are flats half this size for rent.

We've already installed geraniums and fun lights we picked up in Bangkok. For the first time in 2 years, we have a closet, and it's already full. My allocated space has a suit, 3 t shirts and 2 wetsuits...

What now? Well, we've been wandering around town so far. Saw a ballet last night in French :) We're going on a side trip to Spain and Morocco with Mary's mom and brother in a few weeks. And...and... well we'll just have to see. We're STILL on vacation, after all.

Boredom, Hunger and the Lazy Diver

2008-04-14T01:31:00.000-07:00

So, yeah. The Maldives are pretty cool for diving with the big fish. But there really isn't much else to do if the big boys don't come out to play. The coral and macro life isn't so great and we spent several dives looking for other forms of entertainment... and sometimes a little snack...

Marcel does always swim with a fork, and I'm never underwater without travel chopsticks. mmmmm....anago...

The currents were sometimes roller coaster fun and we got to watch the lazier divers hang onto coral for their dear lives. My favorite move was by a German couple who could magically use both hands to grab on to the reef while kicking the coral behind them AND somehow poke at a scorpionfish to take a blurry picture of him.

There was another technique that we'd never seen before. It starts with that Batman utility belt you got last Christmas. Secure the grappling hook to the reef below and then lay back and take a snooze while the world blows by. Now this actually does make sense in some situations and can be better for the reef than using your hands - if you're careful. But the sight of ten divers strapped into the reef in a very mild current just waiting for their suffering to end is a little funny. In all seriousness, I've never seen so much general disregard for nature amongst a group of divers. We all accidentally kick, touch and break things now and then while diving, but I take it for granted that everyone is trying not to. This trip taught me that there are a lot of divers who just don't care and that's really sad.

Sad, but it reminds of the other German girl who stopped at nothing to get a blurry photo of everything. One dive, she crawled into a hole on top of an exposed rock and didn't realize she had chased her target octopus out a small hole in the bottom. So the octopus is now sitting near me and we're both watching her butt hang out as she's draped over this rock still looking inside for my new friend. Oh, if only I had a camera for that!

Mary says: but what about the lady that massaged an anemone with her hand?!

One Fish, Two Fish, Big Fish...BIGGER FISH

2008-04-14T01:26:00.004-07:00

The Maldives sit near deep water and provide a nutrient-rich environment that attract a good cross section of the marine food chain. Popular members of nature for divers are the 8-15ft manta rays and 15-60ft whale sharks. With a little luck, there are even hammerhead shark schools lurking here and there. But the big fish don't always come out to play. The cruise before us apparently had terrible weather and saw basically nothing.

But that's ok, we had good weather and great luck with the fishies. Our third day out, we were in the water by sunrise to look for hammerheads in the deep open water where there nothing to be seen but dark blue peppered with shimmering plankton. Eventually, a pair of fat hammerhead sharks glided silently by to check us out. Soon after the outlines of a dozen more around us appeared and drew closer. We've seen so much diving the last couple years that little excites me anymore, but all I could do was shout WOW! again and again...and again when we surfaced.
The next big dive was a manta ray cleaning station. We waited anxiously on a sandy bottom 78ft under as our air and nitrogen time quickly ticked away. After a bit everyone started to drift slowly shallower along a nearby reef. Well, everyone except Mary. She was on manta watch and stayed in the sand staring into the blankness ever so patiently. As the group was moving out of our sight, I went to prod her on a bit. Just as I got to her, I see the first manta coming right at us. I was too fixated for charades so I just grabbed her and aimed her at our visitors. Around eight 8ft to 15ft mantas played around in our bubbles for almost half an hour. We both were buzzed within inches of the big boys as they came by to see what we were all about time and again. As great as the mantas were, the most amazing show was watching one of the dive guides physically restrain a German woman trying to escape his grasp and mount a manta.

Next stop: whale sharks. The game here is to cruise a stretch of deeper water on the outside of an atoll and watch for their shadows. One minute we're napping after the morning dive then the bell rings and we're jumping off the boat to snorkel with a 30ft whale shark. Through our captain's persistence and luck, we found and swam with 7 whale sharks from 25 to 35 feet long in a four hour period. It seemed like no sooner had we dried off than he found another. The first 6 encounters were ok but shared with many divers. We stuck with the 7th shark longer than the others and when I finally looked up I saw that our boats were a couple hundred yards away. It
took me about 5 minutes of on and off signalling to finally get noticed. For almost half an hour we were alone with a 30ft whaleshark who continually swam within petting (we didn't) reach and even let me dive down beneath him a bit. These animals are beautiful to watch swim at any distance but it is truly amazing to be so close and -feel- their presence. A 30ft fish an arm's distance away is just...huge. Thanks for the photo, Marcel.

As if those encounters weren't enough, we also saw innumerable whitetip, blacktip and grey sharks including a school of a dozen babies. Single mantas joined us for a few more dives, a couple of dolphins cruised by on one dive and I caught a really rare glimpse of a sailfish (maybe marlin?) passing by on another. After one dive, a half dozen dolphins came by and we jumped right back in the water to snorkel with them. They weren't particularly friendly, but it was fun to watch them watch us.

Bad Steve!

2008-04-14T01:26:00.001-07:00

I'll get this over with quickly. The bell rang at some ridiculous time like 5am. I assembled the underwater camera quickly and we jumped in the water in morning darkness to search for hammerheads. At about 20ft under, I noticed the camera case was slowly flooding. I ran(?) back to the surface and got the camera out of the case as quickly as possible and got the boat's attention to come back and pick it up from me. So first bummer of the trip: no hammerhead
photos. After the dive, we found the camera functional, but with water spots clouding the lens. Oh, the horror! How sore my arm is from Mary punching me.Here we entered the frantic and desperate times that have made us so well acquainted with the inside of our camera that we could easily get jobs with Canon.
Cleaning the lens by flooding it with freshwater didn't work, so our next desperate move was to swap the lens assembly with the jammed up one that we had replaced in Bangkok. Yeah, I'm a geek. I kept the busted lens assembly because it looked cool. This worked unreliably for a few dives, but the original busted gear problem eventually beat us. For our second trick, Mary disassembled the delicate lens assembly with hopes to clean the individual lenses inside.
Wow, what a job, but she did it. Unfortunately, we couldn't quite get this evil jigsaw puzzle back together. So - we've got no photos of any of the good stuff we saw. Oh well, at least we got to see it all and you don't have to suffer through 200 manta and whaleshark photos.

Right...?

Back on the Boat

2008-04-14T01:22:00.000-07:00

Our stop in Sri Lanka was denied by a delayed Air Asia flight and our only alternative was to fly directly to the Maldives. Unfortunately, we could only get a night flight an so missed the view of the atolls from the air. After moving through the tiny airport, we met our greeter and jumped onto a small ferry to our hotel on the main island of Male. That's right, the airport gets it's own island and the island is no bigger than the runway and terminal. Male itself is like a Playschool Manhattan. I went for a walk to get water and saw about a third of town in less than an hour.

The next morning, our rastafarian dive guide showed up to take us to our home for the next two weeks, the MV Stingray. We joined up with some of our 16 European (German, Austrian, Dutch) boatmates on a 30' dhoni (small boat) for pickup. When the it's not running errands, the dhoni carries all the dive gear and follows the big boat around. It's a really nice setup since the air compressors are also on the dhoni so we didn't have to listen to them between dives. Our two week cruise moved us through five atolls and three dozen dives.

A typical day started with a wakeup knock at 5:45am, a confusing dive briefing at 6:30 and then normally a short dhoni ride to the dive site. Currents play a big role in atoll diving and are not predictable by the tides here, so one of the guides always jumped in the water to watch the direction the fish were swimming to determine which way the current was blowing and where the boat should drop us so we'd land near our intended dive spot. Invariably, no matter what the spotter saw, he would sing the same deadpan Bob Marley song "Medium to strong current. Medium to strong current. Go down quickly. Go down quickly." We'd all jump in the water and usually not see the guide again until we were back on the boat. We'd be home for breakfast by 7:30 and napping by 9. Most days had dives at around 11 and 3 with only a couple night dives. That left a lot of time for napping.

Interrupting naptime, we had opportunities to visit a few islands. The ones we saw were all pretty similar: sandy streets lined with brightly colored walls hiding family compounds. A main street right in front of the jetty with a few tourist shops. Maybe a boat or two under repair on a beach. A few fully covered women playing badminton in front of a mosque. Pretty much just like Hawaii.One night we had dinner on a tiny uninhabited island. We showed up after dark to find the crew had layed out a candle runway for us leading straight to the whale shark-shaped table they dug into the sand. That was cool enough, but then they got drunk, played with fire and tried to sing for us. ouch...

Mommy, what's an atoll?

2008-04-14T01:02:00.004-07:00

Charles Darwin theorized that atolls are formed by coral reefs growing at the edge of sinking volcanoes. Give a few million years and all you have left is a ring of reef with little or no actual land left in the middle. Anything above water left in the middle becomes an island with the fringing reef protecting it from the open ocean. Given more time the island too will disappear. The Maldivian islands' maximum height of 7.8ft above sea level doesn't bode well for the 350,000 people in this Islamic country.

That's where we are, somewhere in the 600 mile stretch of coral and sand in the Indian Ocean known as the Republic of Maldives. Amidst the atolls there are a debatable 2000ish spits of sand, 1192 of which have something green rising above the sand on them, and only about 200 of those that people call home. More than half of those are private or resort islands.

Where else in the world would you expect to find islands named "Paradise", "Holiday", "Picnic", "Fun", and the constantly burning "Trash Island" mixed in with Dhoonidhoo, Nakatchafushi and Hulhumale? Sadly, we haven't found Fantasy or Pleasure Islands.

Finding your island of choice on the map isn't easy. Maldivian maps belong on golf course scorecards. Instead of fairways and traps, you get submerged reefs (green) and land (yellow). The 100 square miles of Maldivian dry land hide on 1,800 square miles of reef spread over more than 45,000 square miles of ocean.

Regardless, over half a million mostly European tourists visit these specks every year. Most sit in little resorts on those tiny islands. The more claustrophobic tourists like us come to the Maldives to board a dive boat and scoot through the atolls in search of manta rays, hammerheads, and whale sharks.

Life as a Tourist - Two Thumbs Up!

2008-04-14T01:02:00.001-07:00

You get to eat pizza everyday and have ice cream whenever you want. That was our experience while mixing with the sunburnt foreigners on the beautiful beaches of Koh Phi Phi in southern Thailand. The islands in this area are gorgeous. It was so good that we decided to skip the other islands we had on our list and spend the entire time here. You just have to accept that you're one of the thousands that flock and bake here. Don't fight it, just pass the coconut please!

We hiked, snorkeled, took boat trips, but mostly we just worked on our tan lines while watching the parade of bikini bottoms stroll by. Yeah, bikini tops aren't really the in thing here. They're so 7th grade dance.

We also spent some time exploring Krabi, Ao Nang, and Railei before saying farewell to Thailand, for now. Little did we know that a technical problem with our plane would cause us to miss our connecting flight to Sri Lanka thus forcing us to spend a couple of unplanned days in Bangkok before we could secure new flight to the Maldives directly, thereby missing Sri Lanka altogether. A big AIYA!

Fake Smiles in the Similans

2008-04-14T01:01:00.002-07:00

Most people go to the Similans because it's supposed to be one of the top places in the world to dive but for us it's a convenient place to try out our dive gear.

We booked ourselves onto a 4 day liveaboard with 21 other tourist divers, 8 divemasters and 7 crew; the MV Dolphin Queen embarking from Khao Lak in south Thailand. Before we pushed off from the dock the crew lit a 10ft string of firecrackers hanging off the bow of the ship to bless the boat for its voyage. We were told not to worry because the pressurized bottles of oxygen and generators were in the back of the boat. The vessel wasn't big but somehow there was always space and plenty of lively conversation. We were even surprised by how little toe stepping there was given there was only 3 bathrooms on the entire boat that everyone shared. It's funny, when we were on land sitting in the dive office watching their dive video we kept whispering to each other 'where's the fish'. There was a very noticeable absence in the usual underwater reef scene. And we had heard from people that have history in these waters that in the last two years between the mass tourism and warmer waters (el nino gets blamed for everything) the quality and abundance of the fish life has dropped dramatically. So we were set up for a pretty tame time and wow, there really was nothing to see. Sure there were highlights now and then but in general the visibility was low, the water cold, and creatures few. We still made the most of it and kept on jumping in four times a day. On the boat we were having a good time and there was enough underwater to keep us interested. Even more importantly our gear was working nicely.

-- steve says: The Similans don't top my dive list, but they were better than I had expected. No big fish, but we did get seahorses, ghost pipefish and a stonefish!

Another Day Another Temple ... or Baganarama

2008-04-14T01:00:00.000-07:00

After so many temples in so many Southeast Asian countries, it's hard to get excited about seeing ANOTHER temple and yet we found ourselves on a slow boat from Mandalay down the Irawaddy to visit the temple-strewn plains of Bagan.

The temples started sprouting up here like weeds a thousand years ago. There are now around 2000 temples remaining - with a few brand new ones to offset the thousands that have been destroyed over the years. That sounds pretty incredible, and it sort of is. It is hard to find a spot where there is not a temple of some sort in site. Some of the temples can be climbed and offer unreal panoramas of a galaxy of stupas rising above the trees. The temples are fairly spread out over 16 or so square miles of farmland, so we rented bicycles for a few days to explore. That turned out to be a bit of work on some of the sandy paths, but at least there weren't any real hills. I woke up at 5:30am one day to capture the temples rising through the misty jungle sunrise. Instead, I got a 5 mile bikeride in the darkness and rain and a few gloomy photos. Yay!Like the rest of Myanmar, Bagan was largely devoid of tourists. On our biking adventures, we came across hundreds of temples, but only a handful of foreigners. Only sunset at one of the big temples near a posh hotel drew them from their air conditioned lives. OK...we had A/C, too. But we managed to go outside and see stuff during the day.

We also found the moral equivalent of the Thai "No Whammies" Prayer Machine. Here, you throw money at target wishes a spinning wedding cake. I'm shooting for "May you win in lottery".

No, please not another water village!

2008-04-14T00:51:00.001-07:00

Next stop: Inle Lake, probably the #2 tourist destination in Myanmar. Inle is surrounded by villages that start on the lake itself and gradually move up and onto dry land. There are even water bungalow resorts on the lake. I can't think of any reason you'd come here and isolate yourself from Myanmar by staying in a beachless resort, but people do. We stayed in Nyuangshwe, a short canoe ride up a canal from the lake itself where we were surrounded by a great local scene and a few businesses close to our hearts.

Our neighbor had an authentic homemade wood fired pizza oven that he knew how to use and just an appetite-whetting walk away was Pancake Kingdom serving up chocolate covered strawberry and banana love for breakfast, lunch or dinner. For us, it seemed like we stayed in a very local town, but Nyuangshwe is normally well touristed. More than once we found ourselves sitting alone in a cafe hearing from the owner that there were now only 10-20% the number of tourists as the same time last year.

Back on the lake, we wandered through a handful of villages on foot and also by boat through the many canals. As many fishermen as we saw on the lake we couldn't figure out what they are really doing because we never saw a single fish in a net or boat. There was very little fish in town, either. No wonder one person we met said the fishermen were the poorest people in the area. The lake edge does house large "floating gardens", though. Tomatoes and sugar cane are grown in great enough quantity to export from the area. We got really lucky and passed a shack where the sugar cane is pressed and boiled down into bars of pure goodness for easy transport to the sugar refineries. Oh, it's so yummy. They should just wrap it up with the label "instant cavity" and ship to America.

Aside from the general beauty, friendly people and interesting villages, the
highlight of the lake is the temple complex at Indein. After braving a half mile of
souvenir stall-laden covered walkway up to the temple, we continued on to a hill
behind that overlooks the temple and lake. What a view.

My vote for best religious sellout in Southeast Asia also sits on the lake: Jumping Cat Monastery. It has a real name, too, but that hasn't been relevant since the monks first taught cats to jump through hoops for their kibble.

Fashion is Function

2008-04-12T02:38:00.000-07:00

Skirts for men - IN. Except they're called longji. This traditional wear is worn prominently throughout Myanmar though pants are nowadays widely seen on the streets.

Rouge on cheeks - OUT. Women, children and pansy men wear sandalwood powder on their cheeks as make-up that doubles for sunscreen. Most people wear it smeared neatly in squares prominently on their faces. Other variations include messier shapeless blobs, rebellious mickey mouse outlines and the all over spread.

Teeth whitening - OUT. Chewing arecanut wrapped in betel leaves is not only addictive, suppresses the appetite but it also turns everything in your mouth a rotting shade of red. Small carts are found on all the corners selling this popular pastime and is the source of all the red stains on the streets.

Kid sized furniture - IN. Food options and sanitation is heavily lacking in Rangon so many food stalls expand their space by setting up play tables and chairs on the street. So while squatting with your knees up to your chest you can join the locals in enjoying pickled tea leaves and pickled tofu with raw garlic and chili peppers for condiments. Just don't drink the tea, the cups are not washed between uses.

The Temple's so Bright I Gotta Wear Shades

2008-04-12T02:37:00.000-07:00

High atop Rangon is a big golden temple bejeweled with diamonds and rubies. It is seriously too bright to look at with the naked eye. If you try your eyes start watering and you're forced to squint or turn away. It sits in the center of the massive shining complex of Shwegadon. Surrounding this holiest of holy temples is a smorgasbord of lesser temples each dedicated to topic and day specific buddhas. Families come packed with a day's worth of food and spend all day in the shade their religion offers. They take naps, women braid hair, rugrats run amok, and everyone takes time to make offerings to their buddha of choice. The look of the buddhas area quite different. Most are the typical golden sitting statues with coils of hair and a soft smug countenance.

But there are also the old men likenesses of revered monks and even a green troll demon. This latter one was being proffered fast food and lit cigarettes in addition to the usual incense and monetary offerings.

It took us several hours to take it all in, including a rest with the locals on a tiled floor of an open air temple under the watchful eyes of the ever present buddhas. Interestingly the entrance and exit for foreigners is distinctly separated from those of the locals. Our shoe racks were separated as well as bathrooms and even the elevators. Obviously we had to pay an entrance fee but we were also required to sign in to a log book that we found out later freelance guides peruse to pick out their next targets. Our guy had walked around for over an hour and couldn't find us until we were on our way out.

Into Yangon

2008-04-12T02:35:00.000-07:00

It's no longer Rangoon, Burma but goes by Yangon, Myanmar now. There are limited entry points into Myanmar and you can only enter the military led country by flying into Yangon. Actually only certain parts of the country are open to tourists at all. This includes the official new capital located more centrally within the country where the government buildings are built like bunkers, locals were restricted access, and foreigners are absolute forbidden to go near. Years ago during their last election the military leadership lost but refused to give up the seat of power so their regime of oppression remains. Outside of Myanmar there is a debate over whether or not tourists should visit the country because a portion of their spending money goes directly to support the military via government taxes and visa fees. However when you ask the Burmese the same question they can only express how much taking tourist dollars away hurts them directly. And it's not just the income they need from foreigners but they want visitors to take take their stories out of the borders to be shared with the world. Those that are against the regime risk harm for themselves and their family. We heard stories of people divorcing their wives, moving to far off regions, cutting off all communication to their family, and even remarrying just to keep their families safe. Some have even tried to fake their own deaths in fear of retaliation of their political beliefs. All these things are not on the surface or evident on the streets. In fact walking around the various towns it looks like people are just busy trying to eke out a living, which they are. Much of the oppression is hidden from the west. The internet is heavily monitored within the country. Email sites like Yahoo, Hotmail, Gmail are all blocked out as are blogs and many international websites. The violence that resulted from the monk protests six months ago in the Rangon made headlines in the international media and has kept many people away. That was evident in walking around bustling Rangon where we saw less than ten tourists in total over several days.
We talked to monks and local people that cautiously told us that they could not openly speak out against the government. A monk briefly recalled the demonstration months ago where monks were beaten and killed to stifle the anti-government protests. Most of the people in this largely Buddhist country are impoverished and the few that have money do their shopping overseas. The shelves in markets are lacking and hold the same basic provisions. People live in the streets and those that have nothing beg from the poor. So it's probably not surprising that as much a tenth of the population submit to the temple and don the sacred robes where they are provided with a roof, education, and food. But like I mentioned this suffering is quiet, beneath the surface of a population that has found no safe outlet for their grief so they tiptoe within the boundaries, trying not to step on the wrong toes.

Going Green

2008-02-08T06:18:00.000-08:00

It's hard to resist cooking classes when you're surrounded by such good local food so we signed up for a 3day/3night cooking course up in the hilly farm lands outside of Chiang Mai. It wasn't until we looked at the poster a second time that we found out it was an organic vegetarian farm. We were worried we'd be surrounded by granolas but the people there were really friendly and fun. Okay, so we were the only two people that didn't practice yoga, meditation and mantras daily.

There was yoga class at dawn, fresh baked bread for breakfast from the sustainable farm next door, then we would cook 3 dishes for lunch and another 3 for dinner. We even made tofu from scratch. Everything was fresh and made from raw ingredients. The kitchen was completely outdoor and had a great vista of the village and farmland below. While we were there we stayed in a hand molded mud hut right out of the flintstone's. There is a wealth of knowledge there and a seemingly endless list of active projects. One day a group of 25 monks came by for a tour of the place and to learn how to make natural soap and shampoo. The day that we left they were mixing up organic paint. Who knew! It was easy to see how most people there were repeat and extended stay visitors.

The people that we met were part of the highlight we spent the nights laughing at everyone's stories and screaming at rowdy card games. The Thai couple that owned and ran the cooking class were incredibly funny and awesome cooks. We made so much food that we couldn't eat it all.

All in all it was a great time and we now we know how to make really good pad thai, tom yum soup, curry pastes, and an awesome peanut sauce among other tasty thai dishes, with or without meat.

We are Short Necks

2008-02-02T23:49:00.000-08:00

When we got to the village we were told the first souvenir booths were of the short neck people so we should walk without stopping until we get to the long neck tribe. Yes, we were part of the short necks. The road was muddy and slippery and completely lined with souvenir stalls on both sides so that you didn't see the villages right behind them. The women were sitting at their shops making scarves. Many of the people on display were young girls. They were quiet and seemed not to mind the attention of the cameras and people that would crowd around them. They would pause and smile for the photos then get right back to their threading like seasoned veterans. Many of the faces were painted in addition to make-up. No one seems to know why they started doing this practice of lengthening the girls' necks but the three prominent stories are
1. because tigers bite necks (but then why don't the men do it?)
2. to make them ugly because the ruler could pluck any girl he chose
3. as a beautification that makes them look more like a swan.
Yes, the last two contradict but so goes theories. I asked Ren if the girls thought it was pretty and his answer after a hesitation was that he thinks they do it for the business. Otherwise no one would come up here. And inside their straw huts were portable DVD players so it shows it definitely pays off. One old woman had the solid brass rings off her neck which I was surprised by because I had thought that they couldn't survive long after taken the rings off because of a lack of support. But it seems they can live with their extruded necks bare. The girls start the process at 5yrs old and put on progressively taller rings until their late teens. Thus taking advantage of the growing years. They definitely moved about with a stiff neck, like someone wearing a brace.

Prayer Machines, No Whammies!

2008-02-02T23:38:00.000-08:00

This is our 3rd time in Thailand and it won't be the last. We're spending a week in the northernmost province of Chiang Mai. We visited an orchid farm and went into a cave in the highest limestone mountain in Thailand that was a temporary shelter for the Burmese army during the war. All that was only mildly interesting compared to the small temple sitting outside the cave that had prayer machines. That's right, prayer machines! With their flashing red lights you could see them from the parking lot. There were eight Vegas style slot machines and a weekday Buddha in each. Wednesday gets two for some reason; one for the day and another for the evening. Each of the 8 boxes had slots for the offerings. Sadly there were no levers to pull but wow, this was 'Lord of Light' put to action. I knew the book's idea of prayer machines would catch on sooner or later. It was too good to pass up for any entrepreneurial religion.

Laos in a Betel Nutshell

2008-02-02T23:05:00.001-08:00

Laos was a quiet and less populated country than its neighbors, by far. The capital Vientiane feels more like a resort town with its laid back atmosphere lack of traffic. There are plenty of expats living and thriving here to provide the comforts of western life amongst the stupas. The US embassy rep gave us a funny look for needing extra pages added to our already double wide passport.

Vang Vieng is best described as spring break for wannabe backpackers. The main street is lined with open air restaurants blaring episodes of Friends and The Simpsons. The river right outside the otherwise dusty road town is one bamboo bar after another. The locals meanwhile take advantage of the dry season and drive their tractors to the middle of the river for gravel while others stoop over to collect river weed. The river weed is dried and compressed to look like thick seaweed then roasted and sprinkled with sesame seeds. It made me hurl for 24hrs.

Luang Prabang was all about temples. Everywhere you walked there were monks going about their daily activities in their saffron robes and often matching umbrella to keep off the sun. The monk schools were packed with boys of all ages. Here more than anywhere else it seemed monkhood was a way to get an education.

To get from the northern Laos town of Luang Prabang to the Thai border we would have to endure a two day journey by slow boat up the Mekong. Each day's cruise started at 9am and ended just after 6pm. There were no stops along the way except to drop locals at their villages so we had to bring all snacks and beverages along, as well as entertainment. At least we were going against the grain of the travelers so we had space to spread out on the wooden boat. The boats going in the opposite direction were notorious for packing in 100 passengers on a 40 capacity boat so people had to fight for room and some slept on the piles of cargo and backpacks. We had less than 20. The first night we slept in a border style town with nothing but guesthouses and snack shops. The next day was full of rain and we had to put the tarps down to stay dry. At the end of the second day we arrived after the border closed so we had to wait until the next morning to make our third entry into Thailand.

Mahouting Around

2008-02-02T23:03:00.001-08:00

In Laos and Thailand elephants are still being used in the logging industry despite animal rights activists. Some projects have popped up to try to save the ailing beasts of burden. One idea is to buy the sick and injured elephants away from the loggers and try to restore their health. To offset the costs of maintaining such large animals the ellies are then trained for their new job in tourism. We wanted to see for ourselves so we spent two days at a mahout camp. The herd was made of 8 adult girls and one baby boy. Physically they looked to be in good health and well fed. These Asian ones are much smaller than their African cousins, almost 3ft shorter. The shape of their heads, back and mouths are distinct as well. We rode on the necks and felt their bristly hair poking up at us. It's not easy to stay balanced on a moving elephant. You can feel their shoulders alternating with their stride rocking you to and fro. And it feels like you're sitting on a rotating turret swinging from side to side as the elephant takes in its surroundings. There's nothing to hold onto except your will to not fall 8 feet to the ground and get trampled under foot. We walked them up the mountain where they spend the nights eating and sleeping. In the morning we met up and they gave us a lift down to the river to give them a bath. The mahouts gave us scrub brushes and though the elephants got cleaner we got dirtier. The adults went back up to camp to get ready for the next tourist rides while the baby was in a tyrate for being left behind. The mahouts found the girls wouldn't work if the baby was around. The ellies and mahouts work for 14 days then get a day off. The elephants get their 200-400lbs of food a day and have medical supervision so most will live to the natural ripe old age of 65. Whereas ones stuck in logging only survive half that lifespan. Given that freedom is not an option the tourism gig seems a better life than logging.
Surprisingly there are sparse wild elephants in the mountains but their days of freedom are numbered as people encroach on their territory

In the Belly of the Beast

2008-02-02T23:00:00.000-08:00

Laos is cluttered with limestone mountains which is prime for caves. What better way to explore them than by innertube. In addition to the big rubber donut we were given headlamps, though Steve's was as bright as Mars as seen with the naked eye standing in downtown San Jose. The battery pack was what killed me. They looked just like car batteries, except a quarter of the size and weight. They were attached to the lights by exposed wires and were made to hang from your neck. Supposedly they watertight and I was going to test that out as mine kept slipping into the water. There was a rope that we could pull ourselves into the cave with. The jagged entrance was no more than two feet high so you had to flatten yourself and exhale to pass through unscathed. The sunlight didn't penetrate very far into the cavernous tunnel. The rope led us farther into the pitch with only our headlamps and echos to break the darkness. It was a good thing there were so many of us. Advancing along the rope while dodging the many head gashing traps in the meek light was trying enough then add keeping the camera out of the water to take video and I was at my multi-tasking limit. Next we hit a shallow flat with about six inches of water so we walked our tubes across. The cave was so low we had to stay bent. On the other side we hopped back onto our tubes but this time we linked up to form straight lines with the guide at the lead. I had to give up my light so he could navigate us as we went deeper in back first. With our shoes on our hands we all paddled slowly through the water like a caterpillar walking on water. The light from the other tubers' lit up the cavern walls. They were twenty feet across, curved and smooth on the sides and came together in a jagged crevice ten feet overhead. That gave the illusion of a rib cage a spine. As Steve put it, we felt like Jonah inside the whale. It would've been nice to have a light but it was also a good idea not to look at the water or the cave too closely. Watching all those points of light dance on the curved tunnels lighting us various features and colors was mesmerizing. The guides sang soothing Laotian songs that echoed through the chambers as we paddled to the end then turned back. That was good, dark, wet bum fun.

Our Longest Bus Ride to Date

2008-02-02T02:54:00.000-08:00

From Hanoi we were thrown into a tired bus with the locals at 7pm. The rear four aisles were jammed floor to ceiling with cargo, overflow from the roof. It was amazing that it wasn't caving in with half of Vietnam strapped to the top. Our bags get tossed in the back and the bus guys try to shove us into seats with baggage at our feet. This is a 21 hour bus ride so there was no way we were going to compromise with legroom. The pushy punk finally takes the box out from under the seat ahead of us so we sit down. Some others weren't so lucky. There were bags and boxes under all the seats. A few of the locals have the double seats to themselves but over the course of the night we would pick up others to fill those spots. The seats weren't bad. There was a noticeable lumbar support and the cushion was still intact. Each seat even had a blanket. Later we found out that that was because the aircon would blast all night. The locals were prepared with their knit hats, gloves, and winter jackets. We huddle together under our two blankets draped over us. At least once every hour and a half we made a stop for petrol, food, smoking, bathroom, more passengers, and once at a mechanic for reason unknown. Of course there was onboard entertainment. Now I know what a Vietnamese award show looks like. Ugh! That was when the earplugs and eyeshades came out. Steve seem to conk out pretty early on. I read and struggled until after midnight. Even then I kept waking every twenty minutes readjusting within my confinement before finally dosing off for a longer spell. The brief moments that I open my eyes the bus was crawling in fog so thick you can barely see the back of the bus ten feet ahead of us. I knew it would be cold but I didn't expect pea soup. One time when I opened my eyes I noticed that we weren't moving but there was another bus next to us. The mist is so heavy that I have no idea what's around us or where we are. I just figured it was too hard to see so we stopped.

At about 6:30am I peep out from under my shades to see Steve awake. It seems we've been waiting at the Vietnam border waiting for the office to open so we can exit. We must've been there for at least an hour, maybe two. The bus punk collects the passports without explanation and I watch him put them in a plastic bag. Next he grunts at us to leave behind the others. It is freezing outside. The thick mist is still burying us in and we follow the cajoling guards into the sparse building. We join the mob and I squeeze to the front of the counter so I can see what the guards are doing. There are stacks of passports on the inside of the glass. Doubtless from all the other buses and trucks waiting next to ours. Luckily the guards grabs our plastic bag pile first and starts to slowly check each one through. He's being particular with which ones he fishes out first. Ten foreigner passports go through before he grabs mine. It gets stamped and he calls my name out. Before he hands it to me he demands $1. It was too early in the morning to question him about the fee so I tell Steve who is two people behind me to hand over the cash. Even he doesn't want to deal with it either so we pay the bribe and get our passports back. Then we had to walk across the checkpoint to officially leave Vietnam. We walk into the fog not knowing where or how far to go. The mist is clinging onto every surface. I feel my backpack and it's soaked. Finally we see another gate through the haze and the door is open. We rush through knowing there would be a mob behind us. The border guards here on the Laos side actually speak english and they're as helpful as can be given the conditions. We pay for our visa on arrival in addition to an extra $1 that everyone has to pay. At least we get a slip of paper to make it feel like a real fee. We've been doing this type of free-for-all queueing so I work my way to the front of the counter and shove my hand through the opening in the glass as soon as the guard glances up. You can't too early or it's taken as an affront. You have to be assertive but not aggressive. It's a fine line and the difference is getting what you want or the cold shoulder. Yay! We're through. As soon as we see the bus at the gate we hop on and hide under our blankets. My earplugs and eye shades go back on and I sleep until Steve wakes me after 10am. The sun was out and the sky blue. What a difference a few hours make. I felt like I was coming out of the blinding cold cloud that was Vietnam and stepping onto the clear, sunny warmth of Laos.

That night Steve fell asleep pretty early. I stayed up and did some yoga. 21hrs on a bus really makes my back and butt sore. It could've been must worst though, we know. We're actually quite content with this record breaking bus ride. Our previous longest bus ride title holder was when we left Bukittingi in Sumatra. That was 19hrs and this one was smoke free.

Ha Long Bay

2008-02-02T02:53:00.000-08:00

Rather than suffer through two days of buses we flew from Ho Chi Minh City to Hanoi. The capital was another busy and smog ridden asian city. The weather was much colder here than the south. So when we took a few days excursion to scenic Ha Long Bay we pulled out the long sleeves. The bay is dotted with thousands of sheer limestone rocks that shoot straight up out of the calm waters. Spread amongst these karst formations are small fishing villages adrift in the sea. There are caves to see and viewpoints to hike to but the main draw is sitting on the roof of the junk ship watching the rock islands cruise by. We did bike through one of the larger islands and kayak around others before the weather got too cold and we had to retreat to the sheltered cabins.

'You Know Nothing!'

2008-02-02T02:49:00.000-08:00

The Cu Chi tunnels used by the Viet Cong during the Vietnam war to hide from the American troops were 65km outside of Ho Chi Minh City. To keep us entertained on our bus out was Mr. Bean our engish speaking guide. When he was young he lived in various parts of the States eventually becoming an officer of the US Navy. When the US became engaged in the Vietnam War he was sent here to train the Charlies to fight in the foreign fields. The VC eventually captured him and sent him to prison for four years to get re-educated. Everyday he went out to the fields to pick up land mines with his hands. At the end he emerged a happy man knowing his rightful place was in Vietnam and that the US government was full of lies. I'd say the re-education worked perfectly on him. He kept telling everyone over the microphone 'You know nothing!', 'You understand?', 'You really want to know?'

He said the Vietnam war really started in 1858 when the French occupied the country. Then the US financially backed the francophones and when they pulled out over half a million American troops showed up in rice paddies. The VC's guerrilla warfare kept the Americans at bay and forced them to eventually give up the campaign. From there the Vietnamese fought Cambodia, actually invading them but he left that part out. And finally it was war with the Chinese which finally ended in 1980, the official end of the Vietnam War according to him. But it was because of the false media and internet that the world thinks it ended in 1973 when the US troops left. There was a VC award called American Killer Hero. So for the entire ride out we heard his take on the war, Americans, and the Vietnamese farmer forced to become a killer. And of course he presented this as his obligation to make sure we got something out of our $4 tour. At the Cu Chi tunnels we first sat down to watch a fifteen minute communist propaganda of the Vietnam War made in 1967 with smiling gun toting VC. Needless to say it was highly anti-America. From there we were lead from one hidden entrance to another, to holes made by B-52 bombs, to booby traps, to bunkers, to a destroyed tank, and even a firing range where you can shoot a variety of war guns for only $1.3 per bullet. Sure the people actually firing the AK47s were given earmuffs but the rest of us sitting twenty feet away just had to bear the deafening noise in silence. After all that we crawl ed into the cool, but stuffy darkness of a tunnel. At first it's high enough to walk through totally bent over but after dropping down to the second level, about 6m below the surface, crawling became the mode of transportation. The tallest spots were no more than one meter high and sixty cm wide. The lowest places were two feet high. It was pitch dark but smooth. The earth was ripe for tunneling here as clay is easy to dig and hardens with heat which meant the napalm bombs on the surface only strengthened the tunnels below. In Cu Chi the tunnels ran 258km in all and some went under US bases. Mr. Bean praised the craftiness of the VC and told us in many ways why they were better than the Americans. This included using American trash to throw the dogs off the trail of the tunnel entrances. Also they used discarded US bombs to make mines and used truck tires for sandals which they wore backwards to throw their pursuers off. But Mr. Bean's attitude wasn't unique. Walking around this country you can sometimes sense a muffled anti-Americanism. But any anomysity they might have against us disappears when they see the dollar.

Mekong Delta in South Vietnam

2008-02-01T20:50:00.000-08:00

In southern Vietnam the mighty Mekong river is the prominent artery and thousands of brown veins branch off into a network of canals. The lives of the people here are heavily dependent on these waterways. There is no end to the list of the river's uses. We spent hours upon hours along various watery passageways seeing the ways people here live. There were several floating markets with mountains of coconuts, bananas, pommelos, potatos, green onions, and so many other fruits and veg. Each boat had a bamboo pole at the bow with their wares hanging prominently. Near Can Tho the floating houses sat over fish farms with up to half a million fish below. There were duck farms, dead floating rats, monkey bridges, muslim villages, rice paddies, noodle factories, and trash galore. During one 8hr tour our boat driver had to stop the engine 11 times to unwrap the various plastic bags, weeds, and ropes from the small propeller. By the time we made it to Ho Chi Minh City (aka Saigon) we were delta'd out.

S-21, Prelude to the Killing Fields

2008-02-01T20:18:00.000-08:00

Tuol Sleng, in the Cambodian capital of Phenom Penh, was once a secondary school but was turned into a prison during the reign of the Khmer Rouge. Now it stands much as it was when it was discovered and made into a genocide museum. The Khmer Rouge favored the base people that worked the fields so they forced the people of privilege, essentially city dwellers, into the countryside to work sixteen hour days. In this way Phenom Penh was deserted for 4yrs. Though there wasn't enough food to eat they were forced to continue the hard labor. Many died of disease, hunger, and torture. Our guide was ten years old when her family of ten were kicked out of the city on liberation day, April 17, 1975. She and her siblings were sent to the childrens' camp to work. She heard her father died of starvation. Two of her brothers and one sister also died during that regime. She never found out what happened to her grand parents. An all too common story as the Khmer Rouge separated families without explanations. Individuals would be taken away in covered trucks for no known reason and never seen again. Even after Pol Pot, the teacher turned Khmer Rouge leader, was ousted people still had no idea what happened to their families. To this day many Cambodians have family members that they have no idea what happened to. People were taken from all walks of life; villagers, teachers, foreigners, journalists, soldiers, Khmer Rouge officials. No one was safe from Pol Pot's paranoia. They would be taken with no explanation to prisons like S-21 where they would be catalogued, questioned, and photographed. Everyday three to seven hundred people would pass through the barbed gates. They would be tagged, and if they came shirtless then the numbers would be pinned to their skin. Then they would be tortured for confessions. They were chained in small cells or en masse on the floor, not allowed to move unless they asked for permission first. Tin cans and plastic jugs were used as communal toilets. Every disobeyance was met with slashes. People would be tortured to death or sent to the killing fields after the Khmer Rouge were done questioning them. Even the wives, children, cousins, parents, and neighbors of the prisoners were brought in and killed systematically. People were held here from one to six months, arms and legs chained to the ground so they couldn't move. Many were grabbed from their villages, a sack thrown over their heads only to see a camera staring them down when the bag was removed. Each person had their own file and were photographed upon entry. It was this cataloging that four thousand pictures were recovered as well details of the treatment of the prisoners. Looking at those ghostly final photos was like looking at fear itself. Those faces were full of defeat and the eyes spoke of horror. The instruments of terror still remained as did blood stains on the floor. The Khmer Rouge had enlisted teenagers to guard and torture the prisoners. Any that showed weakness, sympathy, or disobedience became a prisoner themselves. In the end no one was ever held accountable for the atrocities and now the leaders of Cambodia are the same Khmer Rouge officials. We heard from several locals that the young generation, those born after the end of the atrocities, is neither interested nor wholly believe that it happened. Their attention is focused on western fads and the latest Nokia phone. Of the estimated 17,000 imprisoned in S-21 only 7 survived.

Brighter is Better

2008-02-01T20:00:00.000-08:00

We wanted to see the rural parts where the locals live on the outskirts of Siem Reap so we disembarked from our tuktuk on the way back from Tonle Lake and walked the rest of the way along the dirt paths. Through dense trees we saw an explosion of rainbow. It was a new buddhist temple getting its final layer of paint. The saffron robed monks were sweeping, washing, and painting. Statues were being prepared to go to their standing posts. As I was gazing at the technicolor reliefs a monk approached me and struck up a conversation. He had been an ordained monk for 3 years and was focused on learning English. He taught three times a day to the other monks. He said monks live by 227 virtues but he holds 4 to be the dearest. As a monk he must preach five virtues to the common people to guide them to a good life. His exposed skin showed tattoos of a dragon down one arm and buddhist mantras on his chest and forearm. The dragon he got before he entered monkhood. The mantras were for protection. He told us the locals do not like tattoos and think they bring bad luck to a village. He gave us a tour of the temple that had his likeness upon the wall as a founder. This brand spanking new cement one was built to replace the wooden one that the Khmers destroyed. He spoke of some of the stories and characters on the murals. At one panel he stumbled with his words then apologized and said he could not continue the story because his english was not good enough. His worry was that he would use the wrong words and translate the story incorrectly to us, in essence lying. Thus he would commit a sin and could no longer be a monk. So we skipped the panel. We took up a good hour of his time so said bye and continued on our way along the stream that went through Siem Reap. Along the way a few kids invited us to play volleyball with them next to their straw house. You see volleyball nets scattered everywhere in this part of the world. Its a very popular sport along with badminton, soccer, and patong.

Floating Through Life

2008-02-01T19:44:00.000-08:00

For a diversion from the wats of Angkor we did a day trip to the nearby Tonle Lake. We took a tuktuk out but the whole boat ride was all controlled by the government. Only pennies get passed on to the people that actual live there, of course. We paid our fee and were ushered onto a boat held together by fish guts. The driver didn't speak a word of english. He just drove, and very slowly at that. We were passed by everyone. The river was opaque brown and yet people were washing dishes and cooking noodles in it. Everything was on floating platforms from the homes to churches, schools, stores, and mechanic shops. Small row boats pull up along side and latch on. A kid boards with a woven basket filled with bananas and cold drinks. The river widens and leads to the lake with ocean like immensity. The floating village is made up of boats that number near a hundred and stretch far and wide through the trees at the river mouth. We get dropped off at a pontoon restaurant with a pool of fish next to the caged crocodiles. It's the deliciousness of the croc meat that has made them extinct in the wild all along the Mekong. For a short while we watch the comings and going of the fishing villages. Kids and mothers selling lunch with babes in tow, men bringing in fishing nets, boys having water fights while floating in big metal pots. Many of these people never touch land. It was a nice slow float back to shore where we were dropped off near one of the many trash heaps. The locals seem to use the river for everything including a trash dump. Some naked kids came running up to us with open palms. I gave them bananas that we had bought earlier from one of the moms on the boats with their snotty kids. This country has a phenomenal number of children, of which the boys don't wear any clothes until they're six years old.

Angkor Wat

2008-01-24T06:18:00.000-08:00

During our admittedly lengthy travels whenever we came across someone who had been to Angkor Wat they describe it as the ultimate temple; the best. With such glowing recommendations we knew we would be disappointed. That's our skeptical, negative personas peeping out. Nonetheless this was on my list of things to see in this lifetime so I was looking forward to it. Angkor Wat is just outside the city of Siam Reap. These series of temple cities were built at the height of the Khmer civilization between the 12th and 16th centuries with each king building their own to show the extent of their influence. With our fancy laminated photo tickets we were ready to tackle the mega temple complex. We were stunned with the parking lots full of tour buses. There were equivalent quantities of souvenir and snack shops to match. Over three days we took our time admiring the numerous temples. They were in various conditions of renovation. Many had been cleaned up and the jungle pushed back though half of it was still in rubble mounds.

Others were left mostly to the environment and looked like the set of Tomb Raider, which is probably why they filmed it at this location. The only time we got away from the hoards of tourists was when we biked the entire 37km grand circuit to see the lesser visited sites. That was the best day there. If you go expecting the Las Vegas strip then you'll be delighted but to expect anything less would be setting yourself up for disappointment. I think we found a comfortable middle ground.

There's always a little time for monkey business and napping on the job

Christmas in Cambodia.

2008-01-24T06:11:00.000-08:00

Yep, this is it. Cambodia is Buddhist so this was the extent of the Christmas spirit. I'm not sure they knew what they were putting up the decorations for but they seemed to find it amusing to yell 'Mehri 'ismus!' to foreigners. Not giggling afterwards would've made it more convincing.

Buying the Border Control

2008-01-14T06:05:00.000-08:00

We had heard that crossing the border from Thailand to Cambodia by land involved a series of unavoidable scams. Given that we chose the least scammy and least traveled point to cross at, Koh Kong. Of course it took the usual shuffling of long bus rides to get there. The other foreigners paid the demanded $40 and was given the visa at arrival immediately. We knew the official price of the visa was $20. The border guards across the desk didn't seem to appreciate that piece of information. They pushed us to hand over the amount they asked for or go back to Bangkok. After a few loud exchanges they directed us to leave the office and wait outside. Steve continued to hassle the guy in the white wife-beater to process our visas. It's always the guy in the least formal attire that's in charge. He hands over a local travel agency brochure stating the inflated visa price. Then rants about paying $350 to apply for a visa to the US and being rejected. Steve parried those weak attempts and kept pushing. Finally, an hour later they agree to $25 and we were on our way. Welcome to Cambodia.

Logistics and Land Mines

2007-12-22T21:33:00.002-08:00

We took a side trip back to Bangkok to meet up with our diving gear that an army of Steve's friends were involved in, doing various logistics somersaults, to get a box out to us. We've met up with said baggage and can't thank everyone that was involved enough, especially the Daves. You know who you are and seriously...we can only imagine the trouble you guys went through to make this happen and can't figure out why you guys were willing to do it, but wholly glad that you were. :)

So now we're going to be on a bus to Cambodia on Christmas day. Doing research on the country you see the typical warnings like scams, malaria, and monkeys. But it's a little disconcerting to get to the part of the world where land mines is added nonchalantly to that list. It's a real threat apparently and the suggestions are to 'stay on the beaten path'. Well, as far as I can figure there are only 2 paved roads in the country outside the cities and everything else is dirt. Needless to say we'll be thinking twice before we follow a jungle path to a less visited temple. But what if twice isn't enough?

Planning is Hard Work

2007-12-22T21:33:00.001-08:00

We had returned to Thailand after almost a month home in California. It was a last minute decision but a much needed break. When we returned to Bangkok we had the future legs of our travels to figure out. So we went out to beachy Koh Chang and Koh Kood to stay amongst the comforts of aircon, salami, and wifi for 2 weeks. For breaks we explored the island on a motorbike and played with some elephants including a napping baby Dumbo, drove through rubber plantations, and did some puzzles. At one point Steve had to get a monkey off his back that was trying to go through his pockets and bite his ear. We were reluctant to leave but we had planned out the next six months of adventure so it was time to move on. A quick return to Bangkok to pick up a delivery and we would be on our way to Cambodia.

Bangkok's Soft Squishy Tourist Side

2007-12-22T21:32:00.002-08:00

Religion is a big part of Thai life. There are always small standing shrines in front of houses and inside businesses. When this pious energy is focused into erecting temples the result is massive ornate structures of color explosion and gold leaf, always topped with pointed roofs. Or sure there's colored glass, painted cement and terracotta flowers to fill in the spaces. You can't miss the rows of brass buddhas smirking down at you with their heavy lidded eyes. The statues of various mythic creatures are always interesting. The half girl-half rooster is something to pause at. So is this guy but I'm not sure what it is.

The old capitol Ayutthaya is a bearable 2hr train ride from Bangkok. It was a glorious temple ridden city, the center of the Thai nation for four centuries until 1767 when the Burmese sacked it. The place was left it in a ruin of rubble so the capitol was relocated to Bangkok. The locals opted to leave the battered remains as they stood as a reminder of the atrocity. So now tourists ride around from temple to temple looking at the mostly red brick remains and beheaded buddhas. It's a nice day trip and some good exercise if you go around by bicycle.

Colorful row boats of fruit, souvenirs and other tourists drift past at thefloating market; another popular day trip. Sure the people living amongst the canals may have once conducted their daily lives afloat but now it's as authentic as the gandola ride at the Venetian.

The traditional Thai massage is done on a stuffed mattress on the floor. The masseuse cleanses your feet with lime water and does a quick prayer before starting. They rub with rocking motions, elbowing your other cheeks, kneeing your back, stepping on your shoulder. They stretch you out, often in ways that you don't normally bend. The result neither relieves nor relaxes but loosens.

Putting on the Pounds

2007-12-22T21:32:00.001-08:00

Coming out of Nepal our stomaches were still shriveled from our Himalaya experience. Bangkok was there to fill it back to its bloated form. There were fresh fruit juices galore. Our favorite being mango and passion fruit. There were also refreshingly fresh young coconuts, vinegary tom yum soup, the perennial favorite pad thai, succulent grilled jumbo prawns by the kilo, savory oyster omelets, and crispy chocolate banana crepes. Of course frequent trips to Swensen's ice cream and Subway sandwiches helped too. We also found Isreali places that served good falafel and hummus when we needed a change. There is no shortage of food options here and I found myself counting down the minutes to the next meal.

Thai food in Thailand is completely different than what you'd get outside the country. The taste is fresher, more distinct and flavorful. Each bite hijacks your taste buds for a thrill ride. The food carts and gutter side eateries are often the most tantalizing. And there's no shortage of ambience on the streets.

John got to get some good bites in before heading back to the States. The jumbo prawns never had a chance.

It's a Sherpa's Life

2007-12-22T21:31:00.000-08:00

The narrow trails through the Himalayas are made of rocks and dirt, often covered in rain or snow depending on the elevation. There are no motorized transportation, except for the plane to Lukla and the emergency helicopter for the medical evacutees. That means the only way to get supplies throughout the network of villages is on the back of a yak or sherpa. Sherpas out number yaks about 50 to 1. Most people that show up here are on package tours that they arranged ahead of time back where it was warm. An incredibly few number of people attempt the trek without. We were weak and we knew it so when we arrived at Lukla we immediately found a sherpa. Nima, a 5'2" small framed Nepalese, hauled our overstuffed XL duffel bag (about 50lbs) through the mountains while we only carried small day packs. He was always ahead of us, waiting for our slow bums to catch up. Nima came from a long family line of sherpas and started when he was 12 years old. He says that's why he's so short. He was deft and creative at tying bags with knots. His english was decent and doubled as our guide. Sherpas here make on average $8 a day here and during the high tourist months of Oct. and Nov. will traverse these trails 5 times. That made it kind of hard to complain too much about our single trip. During the off seasons the snow pours down on the Himalayas unrelentingly, and without a break so all the shops and guesthouses in the snow zone lock up and head lower. When I asked him what happens if you stay he replied, ''You die." The money they make in the 4 months of tourisms pays for life the rest of the year and it was getting increasingly harder to find independent travelers looking for local sherpas. Nima was literally the back bone of our trip and an ideal companion for these rugged mountains. I was sad that there was no way to recommend him to others as he had no email and no phone.

Teasers from Nepal

2007-12-19T06:56:00.000-08:00

As if we're not proud enough of ourselves for finally writing some new blogs (thanks, Mary), I've posted photo albums from Tibet and hopeully will have the Nepal photos up before you read this. I promise they'll be done well before xmas. Here's a couple scenic shots to wet your appetite and make me feel like I did something useful this week.

In a near hallucinatory and frozen state, I started seeing snowmen. OK, that's a stretch, but my fingers were nearly frostbitten when I finished with yetiboy here.

Incredible vista from the 17,000+ foot top of Gokyo Ri, looking over the Gokyo glacier and back down the valley.

And here's what it was all about. One of about 5 photos we took above 18,000 feet on top of Kala Patthar before the freezing winds forced us back down. That would be Everest and Nupste (or Lhotse, I forget) in the background. Everest being the lower peak to the left.

The Nitty Gritty

2007-12-19T06:27:00.000-08:00

Not showering for 2 weeks wasn't as bad as I had thought. Sure there were showers available but they were outdoor and the stream fed water would've snapped my hair off. The occasional wet wipe was good enough. For the entire 14 days we were constantly freezing so we never took off our base layer except to quickly change once at the half way point. Well, some of us did. I think the socks probably took the hardest hit. You know it's been a rough hike when you can see the smell wafting off your feet. Really.

It wasn't until we were back in the warmth of Kathmandu that we showered and for the first week our skin slowly sloughed off several layers. It was like we were shedding two weeks worth of skin and dirt all at once.

We stumbled upon just a couple nice bathrooms. Indoor, porcelain and with a door!

Here's one of the most beautiful outhouses in the world, but you really did not want to get stuck going out to it in the middle of the night. Although somebody "smart" propped their tent right next to it.

Wallowing in Dung

2007-12-19T06:13:00.000-08:00

Yak dung is brown, but it's gold. It's lovingly hand shaped into convenient patties for drying.Their uses are universal; from making walls, to indoor carpeting, to beds, and most importantly stove fuel. Ah, the smell of yak dung meant warmth.Of course we tried desperately not to notice that the same hands handling the patties then went directly into the kitchen to take care of our dinner. That was one of those taboo subjects.

Yak Sizzler that really sizzles

2007-12-19T05:45:00.000-08:00

If only we could've eaten that well the entire 2 week trek. But the culinary offerings of Namche Bazaar is far and away the exception in this the largest and lowest town on the beaten path. Our Himalayan vacation was largely powered by egg and toast in the morning, instant Rara noodles for lunch, and the local lentil soup called dahl bat for dinner. All this was washed down by hot tea, hot lemon, or boiled water. Every guesthouse had the same bland items. After the first few days we started eating as a chore. Though we'd be starving after a six hour hike uphill we'd pick at our food just enough to stave off hunger yet another night. At the base of Mt. Everest we were treated to a left over bag of chili mix from a previous expedition. Of course the local Nepalese cooks hadn't the faintest idea of what to do with it so I squandered my way into a kitchen, not that I knew how to make RV food but atleast I could read the instructions. We had brought a weighty bag of snacks to offset our limited diet. The snickers bars, skittles, sour lemon drops and sausages were all highlights in our daily regiment.We semi-unfortunagtely learned that skittles, lemon drops and happy cola combined under heat and pressure mutate into a single gelatenous brick of pure sugar. Of course, that didn't stop us from gnawing on the brick as Mary demonstrates here.
Oh sure, along the road up snacks like crackers, canned fruit, and chocolate could be found but at $5 per snickers we were glad we bought our own. Even with this gold mine of snacks our daily intake of calories were well under the amount spent traversing the mountains. Over the 14 days we lost at least 10lbs each, with Steve being the most drastic with his 20lb loss. We were all swimming under layers of wool and goretex. So even with our gorgings on Yak sizzler and gorgeous chocolate cake during our two stops at Namche Bazaar our 2 week circuit that took us above Everest Base Camp was an awesome weight loss program. The bonus was walking away with legs of steel.

Dhanyabaad Mr. Roboto

2007-12-19T05:43:00.000-08:00

Cold weather causes tremendous shrinkage in the life of a battery leaving it with only 10% of its normal usage. We confirmed this during our trip to the Harbin Ice Festival 2yrs ago. Thus the livelihoods of our combined 3 cameras were at risk. 'Isn't there electricity in the Himalayas?' you ask. The answer is sort of. The 'fancier' guesthouses have a single 15watt bulb in the common eating room that they light from 6-9pm. Outlets? Never saw one. But some entrepreneurial spirits have brought a handful of solar panels to supply tourists with their precious juice. So anyone wanting a charge could pay $5/hr. Just hope your battery recharges quickly. Even then people were only getting half charges due to questionable wiring. But that's why we bring someone along with too much time and no sensible fear of electrical fire hazard. When John first walked off the airport bus way back in Beijing my first question to him was 'What's that on your back?" He looked like a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle living in the Matrix. But that's how solar panels on your back are going to change your image. Oh sure there were the common enough glares by locals and tourists alike. They spat out questions like 'What is that?', 'Does it work?', and 'Is that what I think it is?'. And yes, it worked like a charm. Even came with a built in flashlight. We put in a request that next time he jerry rig a heater, or air conditioner as befits the environ.

The Regiment

2007-12-19T05:10:00.002-08:00

Up at 6am, not rested but awake. It's 15F, inside the room. There's a painful dryness deep in your throat, maybe as far as your lung. Your breath crystalizes in front of you. You brush with whatever water didn't freeze in the bottle. Force down toast, again. If you thought it was cold indoor, outside there's a considerable windchill factor. Then you hit the road one uphill step at a time. Your fingers and toes are the first to freeze, the kind that hurt your bones. Every morning the first 300ft always seem to be the hardest. Breathing is like sucking dry ice through a straw with a leak in it. It's easiest to stare a few steps ahead, but you can't forget to look up and around at the scenery. That's what you're there for after all. Surely this torment must be for some reason. You scan ahead of you to see where the sherpa is leading, and somehow it's almost always up. Sometimes the worst is down because that just means there's even more up ahead. Now and then there is no worn path so you just have to make your own through the boulder fields hopping from one to the next. The icy spots are the worst. Squeezing past the Yaks takes a bit of finesse and when they're behind you it feels like special olympics version of running of the bulls. Yak's horns are just as sharp and long, and they really don't care where they point them. Lunch is an opportunity to warm up with hot lemon or tea. But you don't want to stop too long because the icy winds pick up after noon and the there's a lot more mountain to climb before you can settle for the night. And your muscles tighten up in this cold if you stop moving. To make matters worst it's the high season so you have to get to the next village early enough to get a bed. The afternoon hike is much like the morning. The chill from being in the sun's shadows is replaced by the bony chilling gusts that penetrates through your fleece. Usually the face gets hit the hardest. Your nose is red and raw from wiping, your ears act as conduits for a perpetual brain freeze, and your eyeballs feel like ice cubes rolling around in your head. Finally you see your destination. At about 4pm you reach the guesthouse and change out of your hiking shoes and socks to give them a chance to dry. Now's the time a shower so grab a wet wipe and you're done in a minute. Grab your book and head into the common room. There's a single stove in the middle of the room and that only gets lit from 6-9pm, same as the sole light bulb. Dinner is usually served around 6pm so you're in bed by 8pm. You're exhausted so even though the elevation won't let you sleep it's still good just to lay down. Hopefully there's extra blankets because your 15F sleeping bag doesn't cut it even with 3 layers of clothes on. Hours later sleep finally arrives and you wake up the next morning to do it all over again. And though it's grueling, physically torturous, and each day is a journey into the unknown the experience is magnificient and you wouldn't trade it for all the comforts of home.

Airport insecurity

2007-12-19T05:07:00.000-08:00

To get from the warm, comfortable lower lands of Kathmandu to the epic ranges of the Himalayas we would need to take a 40min roller coaster of a double prop plane ride. Surviving the aerial acrobatics would prove to be the easy part, after all there was nothing we could do about that. The tough part is actually getting on the plane. October is supposed to be the good predictable weather season so planes can take off and land from the parking lot sized tarmac in Lukla, the base of trekking. Trouble was the weather the week before was unseasonably cloudy so no one was flying. When we got to the airport just after 5am the place was a zoo. Locals and tourists were all huddled along the walls, counters, and floors; any available space to lean, sit or lay on. But then this was Nepal so maybe that's what it looks like on any day. One by one the flights were being delayed, then cancelled. Other travellers were sharing their grief as this was their 3rd day waiting at the airport for the chance of getting a flight. Finally at 4pm they cancelled our flight so we headed back to the hotel. Imagine the stupidest ticketing system that is the antithesis of sensibility and efficiency and that's what we battled to get tickets for another flight. With a week of back up securing a seat was like digging for gold. Luckily we found one two days later. Less fortunate individuals didn't even have the flexibility in their limited trip dates to make another try. Well, our 2nd day there was even more ridiculous. We camped out on an unused luggage rack as the hoards of people and their excess baggage cramped the small, stuffy building. No information was being given about whether or not any tickets were going to be usable that day so everyone was in a state of mutual exasperation. It was the Wild West of airports. There were no such thing as lines, rules, or security. Somehow I found myself with the task of pestering the head honcho of the airline we were supposed to fly with. Oh sure he tried to wave me off the first few times with waiting times grabbed out of thin air but then I stuck with him like a bad haircut until he gave me something concrete. By noon there was confirmation from Lukla airport that the clouds were clearing so their airport would open up. That made my resolve to annoy him until he got us on a flight grow. At one point the stress was so much for the guy standing next to me that he went into a grand mal seisure and had to be taken away. When push came to shove I squeezed myself to the front of the line and climbed over the counter to make sure our names were written on the passenger manifest. What was at risk was the entire 2 week trek to Everest itself. It was such a relief make it up to the mountain and not have to resort to Plan B because we didn't have one. We honestly had settled ourselves on having to give up Everest and didn't think we'd make it. Having conquered that trial we had a bounce in our step, but it wouldn't last long. There was still the flight back to consider.

Follow the yellow brick road

2007-10-10T05:37:00.000-07:00

It's evening in Kathmandu and I just got a helpful phonecall from our travel guy (I guess?) to let me know that all the flights for the last two days to our Himalayan destination Lukla had been cancelled due to weather. But I shouldn't worry, our 7:30am flight tomorrow will be ok. Whatever.
So either we'll be on a crack of dawn flight to the hills for a 16 day hike up near Everest... or I'll be back here slowly posting pictures. But assuming all goes well, we'll be on the trail until the 27th with nothing but our sleeping bags, 8 layers of clothing, cup-o-noodles and thoughts of you to keep us warm.

Run for the Border, the Hard Way

2007-10-10T05:24:00.000-07:00

The route from Everest to the border first followed a dusty frontier trail through rolling hills with Himalayan backdrop. Finally hitting the "Tibet/Nepal Friendship Highway", we had road for 4 more hours before hitting a little outpost town just a couple hours off the border. The remaining road is under simultaneous con/de-struction and only open at night. Our plan was to circumvent this by sneaking in early in the morning before sunrise. It's a good plan and we're cruising on this one lane dirt/rock/rubble cliffside "road" by 7am.We slowly work our way through several sheep herds before sunrise (about 8:30 here) and then come across our first serious obstacle of the day, a cargo truck hanging precariously over 1000 foot drop - and blocking our passage. After a couple hours of discussion between the parties not involved, a bulldozer and backhoe work in harmony to simulateously upright and pull the truck to safety.A few more goatherds, several backhoes blocking the road and we make it to the actual border town. Unfortunately, this town is a one lane road that winds down a very steep hill. The cargo trucks waiting to cross block the single lane and makes passage to the immigration check and then across the 4 mile "no-man's land" to Nepal an incredibly time consuming act. Nepal immigration was a snap. We were practically dragged by border guards through the throngs of Chinese and Tibetan travellers massed around the entry gate and into Nepal before we even knew it.Then there's the 5 hour ride into Kathmandu. After a head-on bus accident, a flat tire, a couple goat herds and 4 hours we hit the thickest, grossest smog we'd ever seen. It's like there's a ring of soot around Kathmandu. Ugg. From there, it was an hour of horrible non-stop-honking traffic to get to the center of town and our hotel. All told, 12 long hours on the road for the day I chose to have food poisoning.

Smiling for the camera

2007-10-10T05:22:00.000-07:00

This is us at the official Everest Base Camp sign in Tibet. John and I were already feeling the onslaught of AMS so just after this picture we got carted back to the tent and slumped down for the rest of the day. Even the next morning we were dosing in and out of consciousness so we drove down post haste. It wasn't until noon, and 7000ft lower that we started to recover.

Everest, the Easy Way

2007-10-10T04:33:00.000-07:00

After Lhasa, we hopped into a 4x4 with our driver and government mandated and utterly useless "guide" for a 6 day trip through the countryside, out to Everest and on to the Nepal border. The landscape is so much more diverse than I imagined, and we saw only a small part. We started with the brilliant blue high mountain lake of Yadrok set against green hills and distant snowcapped peaks. We passed through sand dunes on our way to our first remote monastery. Unfortunately, remote here just means the hordes of tourists come together in big buses.Next stop, a monastery next to a fortress with a great dungeon. And there's no rules here, just a ladder into the darkness. Even better, -nobody- visits the fortress so we're all alone in the dark! Well, we hope we're alone...After a few quality frontier 'hotels' we won't talk about ever again, we closed in on Everest. The peak straddles the Tibet / China border and there is a "base camp" for climbing the on either side. The dubious 'beauty' of the Tibetan side is that you can drive a 4x4 right up to base camp and find a village of semi-permanent tent hotels and restaurants. And of course, the mountain jumps right out of the valley in front of you.Quomalangma as it is known here is a truly spectacular sight, but none of us see the sanity of risking your life to climb it.We had a little fun here when our guide and driver insisted we could not walk any further beyond the camp, even though we were pretty sure we could. So we did. A couple hour hike out, they meet up with us (in the 4x4) at a frontier police checkpoint and - call the cops on us! Seriously, other people are crossing a checkpoint without any interaction, but our wonderful guide actually gets us pulled into a guard shack where we argue over the validity of our permits and then they hold our passports to make sure we return! Actually, they finished by saying our permits were invalid and we needed to leave the country immediately. Good times. We continue on just a bit to a viewpoint and then return to catch our breath and our passports before heading down the hill to find a tent to spend a freezing night at 17,000 feet in.

Tibet, the New China

2007-10-10T04:31:00.000-07:00

Tibet is not an easy place to get to. It is part of China, although China requires multiple "permits" in addition to the standard Chinese visa to get aroud. Of course, you can't get the permits anywhere other than Tibet (which you can't get to legally without a permit), so you have to work with a travel agent or similar intermediary who will do the legwork for you. The point is that they want you to be on a guided tour at all times where your actions and interactions with Tibetans can be controlled. We followed a pretty common western tourist route from Lhasa to the foot of Everest and then on to the Nepal border and it required two or three separate permits. Apparently venturing out into the untouristed northern or eastern parts of the country is incredibly difficult.It all seems a bit pointless to me as the Chinafication of Tibet since absorption in 1957 seems utterly complete. Lhasa itself is something like 80% Chinese. The countryside is claimed as largely Tibetan, but that just means the Chinese run the shops while the Tibetans farm or sell sourvenirs to tourists. The serious pilgrims at the monasteries are entirely Tibetan, but the monks are all Chinese! Road and store signs are always written in Chinese and sometimes in Tibetan. It is sad to see a culture slowly erased, but I suppose that happens. The Chinese people who have moved here and taken over are just like any other people looking for better opportunities. It's hard to blame anyone but a government trying to extend it's borders. It just means if you travel to Tibet go in expecting China.

The Ballad of Denise and Dave's Postcard

2007-10-10T04:21:00.000-07:00

Writing postcards is fun when you find just the right one for someone. You write the note, address later when you have the address book handy and off it goes when you're lucky enough to find a stamp and postbox.So goes it with this uncanny visage of what could be Dave's Han forefather, a Xi'an terracotta warrior general. Quite unfortunately, I made the oh-so-simple mistake of misaddressing the card (to ourselves!) when doing that job a couple days later. Ok, no problem. It'll just wait until we get to Lhasa and I borrow some available double-sticky-sided tape, a slice of white paper and make my new address label. I grab a good pen to ensure legibility when writing out the new address.Then -BOOM, POW, KERSPLAT-. Ever open a rollerball pen that has seen a 17,000 foot change in altitude? So now the card is covered in ink; my hand is covered in ink; my FOOT is covered in ink. There's a bit of ink on the bed and floor where my body, shirt and pants couldn't protect. It's carnage and Mary and John can only look and laugh. Within the hour, I'm cleaned up and the work is finished. Denise, Dave - I don't know if this card will survive the Chinese postal inspectors, but know that truly unreasonable efforts were put into getting it to you.

On the road to Everest Base Camp, Tibet

2007-10-02T08:08:00.002-07:00

We are packed, with way too much clothes and food, on this the eve of our Everest Base Camp attempt on the Tibet side. Okay, so all we're going to do tomorrow is sit in a car for 7hrs but that doesn't sound nearly as exciting. Over the next few days we'll be seeing the Tibetan mountainside, staying in villages, trying yak butter tea, gaining altitude and trying to acclimate. Our goal is to spend the night at the tents in base camp at 17,000ft with Mount Everest looming over head.

Given our earlier encounter with altitude sickness we're trying to take every precaution to make each step a success. This is testing ground for us as next we will be making the 15 day hike on the Nepal side to their Everest Base Camp. That will be much more challenging and physically demanding.

He's Alive!

2007-10-02T08:08:00.001-07:00

Although I recovered from Acute Mountain Sickness, more commonly known as altitude sickness, after a day of sleeping, headaches, and throwing up... John was not so lucky. He stayed in bed for 2.5 days. Each day he was awake for maybe an hour total, coherent for much less than that. Finally on the 3rd day we threatened to have an IV shoved into him because he wasn't keeping any food down. I know Lhasa is technically China but none of us were in a rush to try out the needle inventory here. I think that did the trick because on the next day he was able to get out of bed and, more importantly, eat.

Now we're all back to mostly ourselves. The lower oxygen here at 11,000ft is making us out of breath just from walking around town. Another problem with the altitude is that all our shampoos, lotions, and pens are bursting but that's much more manageable.

When it rains, it pours

2007-09-29T08:06:00.002-07:00

I've had a lot of free time the last couple days, so there's been some good progress on photos. Albums from Malaysia, including our scuba adventures with Peter and John are up.

More exciting if you have plenty of bandwidth to steal from the boss, the video collection has quadrupled in size and is caught up through diving in Malaysia.

Enjoy!

Live from the train to the roof of the world

2007-09-29T07:57:00.000-07:00

September 27th, depart Xining in Western China
10:15pm The "hard sleeper" cars on this train are crazy. Six bunks stacked 3 high in a narrow compartment with no door.

September 28th, somewhere on the rails to Lhasa
6:30am A thin band of sky sandwiched between the endless horizon and the low clouds is glowing a radiant yellow as sun rises over Tibet.

7am The cabin lights come on and the overhead speakers shout something at us before playing Chinese opera music. I guess it's time to get up.

10am We're running through snowcapped peaks. I'm sure our photos will show nothing but the intense white of the snow fading into the soft white of the clouds that blanket us.
12:15pm Mary and John can no longer handle the beauty. They retreat to their bunks to hide out for a while and see if they can shake the altitude sickness.

2:30pm Some people absolutely love riding trains. I'm finding it totally frustrating. Every time I pick up a book or startup the laptop, some amazing scenery shows up and I have to run and get the camera. It's really distracting. Worst part is that the only windows that open are in the bathrooms. Yech.

3pm John is still sleeping and Mary feels a bit queasy. I had a little shortness of breath quite a while ago, but it's been ok for a couple hours. I think we've already hit the 17,000 foot pass and should be heading back down, so hopefully they start feeling better soon.

3:20pm I just finished a whole package of wasabi peas. I've already finished catching up on our China photos and there's nothing left to do but eat and sleep!

4:30pm The plains just go on and on. Mary and John are still feeling a bit unwell and are back into bed. It's truly beautiful here, but it just keeps going! I'm almost bored with the constant beauty.
6pm Mary is feeling worse and John is still asleep. I just put her on oxygen to fight the altitude sickness. I'll go wake John up in a few minutes and get him on O2, too.

8:30pm The sun has gone down and left a brilliant royal blue background to the black mountains around us. It's a beautiful sight. Mary hasn't gotten any better with the O2 and both of them are still asleep. It's been a lonely day for me!

September 29th - Lhasa
12:15am Finally in bed! The train arrived by 11, but it took us half an hour to gather our gear (and Mary and John) and get out of the station. Luckily, the frantic hostel owner waited for us even though all other passengers and the train crew were already gone.

What the -bleep-?

2007-09-26T09:20:00.002-07:00

We've finally gotten off our butts and posted a few blogs for the last 6 weeks of travel that covers Malaysia, Hong Kong, Macau and a bit of China.

It wasn't bad enough that it took so long for us to get moving, but when we did we found that the blog is banned in China. Apparently the Chinese censors can't handle all the uncontrolled content at blogspot.com, so they just block everything. So that's our excuse for the poor formatting (and writing?) in all the posts below - because we can't see what we're posting!

That's right, the blogspot domain is blocked so we can't see our final posts, but the censors haven't figured out that it is through blogger.com that all the objectionable content get's put on the web. Yes, we have peeked at it through an anonymizer, but that's just too slow and I'm too lazy...

Better yet for you non-readers out there, the photo albums for Indonesia are posted. Just click on Indonesia in the itinerary list to the right.

It's well past my bedtime now, so go read the blogs. We wake up in a couple hours to fly east to Xining where we'll catch the highest train in the world to Lhasa. Yay!

Now Serving 115,495,330

2007-09-24T05:41:00.000-07:00

Mary didn't believe me at first when I said we should go to Beijing on this trip just to have roast duck. But I was serious. I had Peking Duck for the first time when we were here 2 years ago and it was a life altering experience. I vowed then that whenever I returned to China, I would come back to Beijing for dinner. She quickly succumbed to my plan and so we find ourselves now in Beijing.

We returned today to the 150 year old restaurant near the Forbidden City where they actually track the number of ducks they've served during that time to emperors, kings, presidents and us. It's a magical place, from the duck to the atmosphere, to the giant LED sign on the wall that tells you that duck number 115 million just popped out of the oven. Yeah, maybe it was a little touristy, but mmmmmm.

As we passed Tiananmen Square today, focused on our impending happiness, we stumbled not across the gate that leads to our ducky wonderland, but a giant wall enclosing block after block of the Qianmen district.

In preparation for the upcoming Olympics, this historic area that was home to houses, shops and our dinner is being razed to make way for a Chinese Santana Row which will have none of the character or charm of the original. Since this blog is being censored here anyway, I'll just say that it stinks that China is tearing chunks of real history and culture out (not to mention displacing how many families and small businesses) just to give Olympic tourists a Disney-fied China.

Fortunately for our stomaches, the Quanjude restaurant does have a temporary location until the reconstruction is complete, so we did get our fix. But it just wasn't the same. So tomorrow we'll try our host's recommendation for the new best roast duck in Beijing, serving #15,621.

-Steve

My Achy Breaky Knees

2007-09-24T05:40:00.002-07:00

Our last (only?) Everest base camp warm-up hike before the real thing was to Huashan, a group of five mountain peaks a 2 hour bus ride from Xi'an. Locals go in droves to take the cable car up to the lowest peak and walk around a bit. Younger locals start at the bottom around midnight and hike up to the 6000ft eastern peak to catch sunrise. We're not local and no longer young, so we took the middle ground and started up the windy path from the bottom at 8am, did a circuit of all 5 peaks and stopped for the night at a hotel on the eastern peak at 7pm so we could more leisurely catch the 6am sunrise the next day. That's 10 hours (1hr for breaks) on an unrelenting stairmaster.

The trail is typical Chinese mountain style: narrow and random height steps cut into the mountain, often with a precipitous drop on either side. At its best, the steps are cut vertically into the face with a chain to pull yourself up. Half of the steps were only deep enough to land a third of my foot so we had to climb the stairs by sidestepping.

Then there's the "Plank Path", a completely insane set of dilapidated wooden boards set onto spikes set along a sheer cliff face a good 3000 feet off the valley floor below. I'm guessing a bit at the height here because I tried my best to not spend too much time looking down.

Sunday morning, we were yanked out of bed at 5:30 by a bullhorn announcement in Chinese that it was time to get up and run to the peak. At the top were a couple hundred cold locals, many of whom slept on the hill or just outside our door in rented heavy Chinese army winter coats.

Sunrise was beautiful, but a bit sad to see the sun rise not over the horizon as much as over the layer of smog that blanketed the horizon.

--Steve

Letting our fingers do the ordering

2007-09-24T05:40:00.001-07:00

We don't know how to speak or read mandarin so when it came to reading Chinese menus we were sadly useless. We found the best way to satisfy the stomach was to point at what other people were chowing down. This ended up working very well as we got to taste some great stuff that we otherwise wouldn't have known to order.

Bowl of crossing bridge noodles famous in Xian. It only comes in one size, enormous.

Hot pot with spicy goodness, a Sichuan specialty.

Grilled skewers of pork, eggplant, stuffed buns, quail eggs, lotus root, tofu, mushrooms and so much more . Street food at its best in Jiuzhaigou.

If only Ansel Adams had been to Jiuzhaigou

2007-09-24T05:39:00.001-07:00

Jiuzhaigou is one of the premier Chinese tourism locations with tens of thousands of locals visiting from all over China each week. The beauty of this national park is astounding if you can only get around all the other tourists shouting into their cell phones while bumping you to take a picture of their spouse in a Tibetan fur hat. It's an absolute zoo at the popular sights. We did our best by starting as soon as the park opened and walking the back country paths instead of taking the bus. That allowed us to take photos that make it SEEM like there aren't a thousand people around, but there really are in most cases.

All good destinations start with a good meal.
Pearl Shoals waterfall

The amazing color of 5 Flower Lake. No photoshop here.

Crystal clear waters of Panda Lake

Grilled skewers to finish off the trip

The army that time forgot

2007-09-24T05:38:00.000-07:00

In 1974 a farmer was digging a well for water after a 3 month drought. Five meters down he pulled up a clay head. He had hit a far corner of the pit that housed the now famous pit of terracotta warriors near Xian containing an estimated 6000 big life-sized statues. It's an estimated number because maybe a fifth of it has been excavated. The rest is still under layers of dirt and clay waiting to be released. Every night a team of archaeologists painstakingly brush away the debris then piece together the parts. All the soldiers were found in pieces so now it's a giant jigsaw puzzle of history.

The army was created by the first emperor of China. Before Emperor Qin China was made up of seven dynasties each with their own currency, spoken and written language. In 221BC he conquered all seven kingdoms under heaven and united them, the new nation named after him. Part of his lasting legacies is a common language and money. One mile to the west was his mausoleum, and here stood his army facing the east to protect him from invaders. After his unexpected death on the way to an inspection his eleven year old son became the second emperor and his stone army was placed inside the ground, covered with a timber and straw roof and sealed from the world. Peasant uprisings spread throughout the country and the inexperienced emperor lost his head. The new ruler broke into the pits smashing the statues and setting fire anything that would burn. For two thousand years the remnants of the soldiers laid buried under ash and dirt.

Since the first excavation two other pits had been discovered, with the first being the largest by far. The clay that was used to make the army and their tunnels were brought from 50km away and is attributed to the strength and resilience that allowed these terracotta time capsules to last through the ages. They were made hollow to minimize weight and lower the risk of explosion during firing. Each is unique and vary not only in the hair, shoe tread, clothes, height and girth but expressions and proportions. Two hours after exposure to air their color dries up and disappears leaving them the earthy yellowish brown of dirt. To see them stacked in their reconstructed formation is equally as impressive as seeing the partially exumed shards. There is decades if not centuries of work left to be done.

The Ow Dynasty

2007-09-24T05:37:00.001-07:00

Our first stop in China was to visit the family in Guangzhou. This meant gut expanding dinners with some outrageously good food. The Ow clan is quite large as my dad was the oldest of 7 siblings. When you put their families and kids' families in one room to eat it's quite a party. There are a few really fun characters in the bunch to keep things lively. And they all know how to eat the best stuff. My cousin Amy took us to have snake porridge. It's a weird thing to say 'You've got snake skin in your teeth.' Third aunt made sure Steve got plenty of hot peppers. They found it entertaining that he could use chopsticks, and was left handed. One of the uncles said Steve was a white guy that looked asian because he was so dark.

Third Uncle took a day off to take us out to see my 86 year old grandmother, recovering from hip surgery. She was quick to show us her scar. She has no teeth and bad hearing but was feisty, talkative and smiley. This is only my 2nd time seeing her since we emigrated to the States 27 years ago. Our few days with them didn't seem long enough. But they were going so far out of their way to accommodate us that staying any longer would've been too much guilt to bear. Seeing them made me wish we weren't an ocean apart.

Short timers in Macau

2007-09-24T05:36:00.003-07:00

Wish we had more to say about Macau, but we don't. We took the short ferry over from Hong Kong and spent just a short day here. The Portugese influence on Asian culture makes for some interesting architecture and food. We saw these sheets of processed pork all over. Sort of a melt in your mouth pork roll-up.

There was a bit of work going on in the main square to prepare for some kind of party. Lucky for us, they left the fruity props lying on the ground for us to play with.

Elastic waistlines

2007-09-24T05:36:00.001-07:00

The streets were buzzing with people day and night so we swam in the crowds trying to take it all in without drowning. We were surrounded by buildings that touched the sky, the old mixed in with the new. There were so many tantalizing foods and smells that kept my head spinning. Every few feet a familiar sight or scent caught my attention, though I often couldn't remember exact what it was or why I recognize it.

At a vietnamese influenced eatery we met our first piece of heaven was in the form of a shrimp chip topped with glass noodles and grilled pork garnished with scallions, peanuts, and fried slices of garlic. We drizzled sweet and spicy juice on top to seal the affair.

A daily obsession we adopted was getting Mango Strawberry Crystal Jelly drinks and Mango Stuffed Mochi balls at the Hui Lau Shan dessert shops. It's fruity lust. You feel guilty eating it at the windows seat while passerbyers jealously ogled.
But HK isn't just about asian food. At the International Financial Center was a massive western supermarket with a bakery and deli. This was where all the expats shopped. We made a straight line to the prosciutto and salami. With a hot crusty baguette in hand we made sandwiches made our mouths sing. We could go on and on. Everything here is made fresh when you order it. The food is so good its obscene. But there were a few things we didn't try - like dried flying lizards...

Hong Kong - same but different

2007-09-24T05:35:00.001-07:00

I lived in Hong Kong for a year when I was 5 and this was my first time back. The only memories I have are of a counting the round windows on a building by the water, thinking getting ice cream for taking immunization shots seemed like a good deal, going on rides in a playground, and living in a tiny one room apartment in one of the many highrises. Well, the skyscrapers are still there and have expanded to fill all available space. The playgrounds have gotten even better though there doesn't seem to be enough for the population. Prosciutto eased the pain of the Chinese visa office. And there are 315 round windows on one side of that building.

There weren't many touristy things to do other than seeing the peak, shop and eat. We did plenty of that latter one. There was a lack of bicycles, rickshaws, tuk-tuks and scooters. It seems they are all banned in HK and the new territories. Walking is part of daily life here and the streets and subways were pleasantly clean considering the volume of constant traffic they get. It seems that HK has taken a middle ground between the village tainted cities of mainland China and the sterile assimilation of Singapore. We didn't even need to carry our own chopsticks around.

We found one new form of entertainment. A crazy Japanese videogame where you throw soft plastic balls at targets on a pair of big screen TVs. It's really competitive and incredibly tiring. We both had sore arms for a couple days.

Wrong place, wrong time

2007-09-24T05:34:00.002-07:00

We happened to be in Kuala Lumpur during Malaysia's 50th independence anniversary. Of course we did the obligatory Petronas Tower Bridge tour that took us up to the 41st floor of the former tallest buildings in the world. We went back out to watch the midnight fireworks at the towers, but found along with a few thousand other people that the fireworks were hidden from view behind nearby skyscrapers. We were woken up the next morning by F-16s booming through the city. We arrived at the parade grandstand just in time to see the aftermath being cleaned up.

Then there was the stabbing, which we wished we missed. We were ready to leave the city after a few nights.

The rest of Malaysian Borneo

2007-09-24T05:34:00.001-07:00

After our time at Sipadan, the rest of Malaysia didn't really stand a chance. But we tried our best. You just can't go to Borneo and not see Orangutans, so we hit the Sepilock reserve to do our part. None of us were terribly impressed with the zoo-like setting. I mean, really, you come all the way to Borneo and it feels like you're at the San Francisco zoo. The better part of it was staying in jungle bungalows near the reserve. We even manged to brave the heat and do a little trek into the forest where we saw fat squirrels and giant killer ants. We said our goodbyes to Peter and John a few days later and headed to see the largest cave system in the world at Mulu.

The Mulu caves, in total, is something like a couple hundred kilometers in length making it the most extensive cave system in the world. Sarawak chamber, the largest cavern in the world is large enough to house 20 Boeing 747s. It's big, it's dark and littered with ugly little critters, but it makes for good adventure caving.

So we did. We grabbed shoes with toes for the first time in a quite a while, our headlamps, hardhats(!) and followed our guide into the rainforest. She veered off the trail and started to climb straight up a forest covered limestone cliff up to Stone Horse cave. This is a real cave with no colorfully lit stalactites, no other tourists and actually no lighting at all. It does come with a few guide ropes to cross chasms that disappear into the darkness, plenty of beautiful unlit stalactite formations, a bunch of gross spiders, hairy centipedes, a 6ft racer snake, and lots of squeaky bats. We spent a few hours in the darkness, climbing, hiking, crossing ridges and abysses.

A couple million bats live in Deer Cave and they head out most evenings in search of insects for dinner which thankfully leads to the almost complete absence of mosquitoes in the area. The bats exit the cave in streams that resemble rotating corkscrews. They are so predictable and so many that the local airport schedules flights around their exodus.

The caves are surrounded by mountains and rainforest. There's a great trail that carries you up 90' into the forest canopy for a look around.

Life on the Rig

2007-09-24T05:33:00.002-07:00

For better or worse, Kapalai didn't have two rooms available when our friends Peter and John came to visit. Sad as it was to leave Kapalai, we were pretty excited to move over to the Seaventure Resort 15 minutes away at Mabul island.
Seaventure is an oceanic oil rig converted to a dive resort. It certainly isn't the lap of luxury, but it sure is an oil rig! The story goes that it was brought to Brunei to be used as a casino. When that fell through, it was moved here. It still looks like an oil rig and there's more rusted through metal than copious layers of paint can hide. It literally oozes character, but not so fun when it gets on your wetsuit and in your hair.

After the spartan and rusting rooms, the coolest part of the rig was the open-air elevator that goes between the water level and main deck of the rig. The best macro diving is directly under the rig amongst the massive support beams and to get there you just take the elevator down into water. Better yet, when you come up, the elevator is submerged so you can belly flop right onto the platform like a dolphin at SeaWorld!

Under the rig, we finally went too far with our frogfish fetish. Here we are taking one for a walk home. We followed (chased?) this poor guy for maybe 100 yards before he settled down and we realized we hadn't been paying attention to which direction we'd been going!

After one dive on Mabul island, John asked "Yeah, so what was that two-tailed fish?"

It's a cuttlefish having a seafood supper.

-Steve

Waterworld, the good version

2007-09-24T05:33:00.001-07:00

Since there are no longer resorts on Sipadan, we headed to the nearby water village resort of Kapalai.

This was the absolute show stealer for us here. The diving was good, but the resort was just fantastic. Kapalai is a set of bungalows hovering over the water swaying on wooden stilts over a submerged reef. There's not a bit of land in sight until low tide exposes a small beach out back.

It's just an amazing place. Our hut opened to the sea in every direction and had a private patio to sun and watch the schools of fish that congregate right under us.

We still had our South African floaties with us. After a morning of diving, Mary tied hers to the deck and floated out in the central area of the resort.

Kapalai -is- a dive resort, so we didn't get get to relax in the sun too much. Every day we'd do two dives at Sipadan followed by a macro dive at nearby Mabul island. Most days finished by jumping right off our dock to hunt for the colorful dancing Mandarin fish at sundown.

With straining eyes, we even spotted a few pygmy seahorses. These little guys are like 1/4"-1/2" tall and look just like the coral they live in. The first one was pointed out by a guide, but Mary amazingly found one later on when we were staying at Seaventure.

-Steve

Our vacation from diving is more diving

2007-09-24T05:29:00.000-07:00

After so much strenuous travel in Indonesia, we felt we deserved another small vacation when we crossed into Malaysian Borneo. Conveniently, Jacques Cousteau-approved Pulau Sipadan was waiting for us. Sipadan is a tiny island that is surrounded by sheer walls that drop to a 6000ft underwater trench. It's famous for having loads of sharks and turtles cruising around its walls. Now it's perhaps more famous for the number of divers that flock to it in search of the ultimate dive. So many divers were coming, in fact, that the government shut down the 5 resorts on the island in order to protect it. Now you have to stay at resorts on nearby islands and get one of the 140 daily permits to dive here.
Of course, the other version of the story is that the government realized how much money was flowing through here and kicked the other resorts off so they could build their own. That apparently hit a snag when they crashed a barge carrying building supplies into the island that they are trying so hard to protect ... So for now it is just the divers and a Malaysian military base sharing a little piece of paradise. As for the diving: it is good. But we're pretty spoiled after all the great Indonesian dives and can't say our experience lived up to the hype. We did run across loads of whitetip sharks, a few fat grey and even a leopard shark. Lazy turtles were absolutely everywhere and unperturbed by divers. Actually one barreled right into Mary. We were even 'lucky' enough to witness a somewhat disturbing mating scene with the two half-shelled participants surrounded by a group of hecklers who swooped in every so often to bite the female.
There's also an extensive cave system called the Turtle Tomb that we didn't get to explore enough. It's named for all the turtle skeletons found inside, although there's been 4 or 5 divers left inside, too. Needless to say, the dive shops aren't interested in taking people in anymore. Here's Mary at one of the several "warning: you will die" signs just inside the cave:

Steve's happy Manta dance

2007-08-11T04:22:00.001-07:00

Most people that come to this speck of the world are divers because the waters around Derawan are known for their abundance of marine life, particularly manta rays. These have specifically eluded us in our underwater adventures so we were excited to have yet another chance to see them. Sangalaki island is the manta magnet with its constant currents, rich cloudy water, and numerous cleaning stations. We saw mantas on 3 out of 4 dives. But it's not just seeing these graceful rays with 9 foot wingspans that's amazing here but the fact that you can lay on the sandy bottom like coral and watch them hover over the cleaning stations just five feet away, basically reaching distance, for minutes at a time (an eternity for underwater viewing). As an intermission they swim a lap then come back for more.

We even saw a rare all black manta up close. We inched towards him until we were almost directly below the edge of his wing.Our fingers dug into the sand trying to get enough grip to keep from being pulled away by the current. It felt like we were watching a Discovery channel show live while lounging on a sandy sofa under 50 feet of ocean. All we needed were the chips and dip. I guess we did have sashimi at our fingertips. Then he glided right over us so that his belly was 4 feet above our heads. He hung over us for a while as we stared up in awe from his shadow. Even the snorkelers saw 4 mantas. I thought I'd save you from watching Steve's actual dance by not taking video.We did see some other cool things while diving here like a 7ft leopard shark that let us crawl up to his tail to get a closer look. Also a jawfish with eggs in its mouth, some frogfish, and schooling barracuda. Yeah, even if you didn't include all the typical idealic island attributes like crystalline water, pristine strips of white sand spits (like the ones in brochures), and friendly natives this place was more than worth the effort. Get on the next plane!

--Mary

editor's note: i did catch mary trying to draw the manta closer ...

The best thing before sliced bread

2007-08-11T04:18:00.001-07:00

Another attraction in the Derawan island system is the jellyfish lake on Kakaban island. It's a big ocean water lake completely surrounded by the island so no creatures can get in or out. The jellyfish here have been secluded from predators for 11,000 years, making their natural defense mechanism obsolete. This leaves a lake filled with millions of stingless jellies. We slid in to the murky green water with our snorkels and started playing with them. They are completely soft and harmless, except for the occasional headbutts. Yeah, they don't see so well, or at all, and there's so many that they just bump into you. There's only one other place in the world that this phenomenon has occurred and that's in Palau, Micronesia.

--Mary

Yet another tiny remote island

2007-08-11T04:13:00.000-07:00

It took a 14hr overnight bus, 1hr flight, 3.5hr car trip, and 30min speed boat to get to Pulau Derawan. In total it was 25hrs of straight traveling. What we didn't know was if all that trouble was going to be worth it. I had joked to Steve that it would be the size of ToonTown in Disneyland and it was. It took 20min to walk around it. Here's the count: 1 fishing village, 6 long piers, 3 homestays, 1 resort, 2 dive operators, 2 volleyball courts, and more turtles than people. There is a thriving turtle population that live in these waters and you can see them sticking their heads out of the water from inside your air conditioned room or on any of the piers, even under boats.

Every night turtles come up onto the sandy shores and nest. They dig craters into the sand to lay their eggs and there's so many that the beach looks like the surface of the moon with turtle tracks leading to the water. We even got the chance to help the conservationists dig up a batch of 100 newly hatched turtles from under a foot of sand in the enclosed hatchery. They're a little dazed when they see the sky for the first time but then they immediately start wriggling their flippers and turn their big black eyes towards the ocean. They crawl past any obstacle, including our feet. Cute baby turtles smaller than my palm were lifted out of the ground by the handfuls. Once dug up they immediately scattered so we chased after them and put them in a basket to deliver to the open beach. It was a frenzy of little flippers as they wriggled their way to the water. The few stragglers needed a little help so we gave them a nudge now and then. It's something special to see them touch water for the first time. They take to the medium like fish and instinctively start swimming in every direction. New batches get released almost everyday here.

Water browner than dirt

2007-08-11T04:01:00.000-07:00

What comes to mind when you hear the term 'Venice of the East'? If you imagined a city made of a labyrinth of brown, cramp canals lined with people living in timber shacks on stilts just high enough to keep their toes dry and away from the floating trash then give yourself a gold star for the day. The people in southern Borneo thrive off the river system. As we boated to the floating market through the waterways we saw the locals brushing their teeth, bathing, washing dishes, fishing, and answering the call of nature. Everyone smiled and waved like we were on parade. Guess they don't see many tourists here so we were on display. Of course the kids tried to jump in to splash us, and they succeeded. We got used to that after the first few times so we were able to turn away fast enough to keep our cameras from getting drenched thus foiling their plan.

-- mary

No earthquake for us!

2007-07-26T03:59:00.000-07:00

In case any of you caught the news about the 6.9 earthquake in Manado, Indonesia just wanted to let you know that we weren't there at the time so need to worry. Actually we flew out one day before.

Save your worrying for all the flights we had and will be taking on Indonesian airlines. They're banned the world over for all kinds of recurring reasons; like flying with failed mechanic checks, no clearance from air traffic control, and planes that just 'disappear' in the air.

Funny Fish in the Lembeh Strait

2007-07-24T06:39:00.003-07:00

We've just finished a week of diving at Bunaken and then the Lembeh Strait, both in northern Sulawesi. Bunaken was pretty typical diving. Mary was out of it with the big burn bubble on her leg, so we didn't stay very long. Lembeh, though, is a unique place in the world for diving. It's often called "muck diving", but that's an unfair term. Although the bottom is silty and there's some garbage floating around, it's still better visibility than Monterey Bay on most days. What's cool is that they get critters and small animals that you just don't see anywhere else. You can't really call them fish since they don't have fins and some, like the puppy-like frogfish, walk on four legs. And they're mostly small animals that don't move very fast, so taking photos is a blast. Here's a few we saw:

The oh-so-cute Hairy Striped Frogfish. He's just like a little puppy:

Frogfish (a.k.a. Anglerfish)

Giant frogfish yawning

Peacock Mantis Shrimp sitting on eggs

Flamboyant cuttlefish
Nudibranch (slug) with a tiny lobster thingy

Cow Cults of Indonesia

2007-07-24T06:05:00.003-07:00

To balance out all our fun scuba diving, we did a bit of cultural tourism on the island of Sulawesi. There's a region called Tana Toraja with peculiar funerary habits that we thought sounded like it might be worth a couple 10 hour bus rides to check out. The region is largely Christian, but the locals have mixed in much of their animalistic tribal beliefs and such to create a set of rituals and practices around death that are pretty, well, interesting. When someone dies, there is a huge funeral ceremony. Temporary buildings are erected from bamboo to hold all the guests and everyone brings offerings of pigs or highly prized buffalo for the family.
The ceremony might go on for up to a week for important/rich families. Towards the end, most of the animals are slaughtered and the meat eaten and then extras given to the guest and villagers or sold back at the markets. In these pictures, all the buildings are temporary; built on the family's rice paddies. In the short time we were there (invited in for tea and deserts, of course), we saw a few thousand people come through in groups, all bearing animals; over 100 pigs and probably fifty buffalo while we were there. Guestimates were that over 100 buffalo would end up being sacrificed for this queen of the village with ten kids. She was almost 100 years old.

These ceremonies are big deals that can take years to arrange and finance. In the meantime, the body is preserved and stays at home in the only bedroom of the traditional horned shaped home. Really. The deceased is pumped full of chemicals and lies in the bedroom (8x12ft) and is referred to as 'the sick'. It's not until the funeral that they are called 'dead'.

The fun doesn't stop there. The last day of the funeral after the cock fight a procession leads the body to the village grave which is often in a cave or dug into limestone walls where the are places in the same coffin as their family. They often place statues called tau-taus of the dead in a gallery overlooking the graves. Each village has some area they've carved out and generation upon generation can be seen pile up. Literally. In some places, the coffins were hung from the ceilings of caves to keep them dry and away from preying animals.

And you know us, we had to do a bit of crawling through the caves. With bats. Screeching bats that don't like to be flashed. Yikes.

One bummer on this part of the trip. Mary's leg caught the muffler on our motorbike one day and caused some nice damage. It's much better now, but it cost her some diving while it healed up.

Be chased by a Komodo dragon - Check

2007-07-06T06:48:00.001-07:00

We pulled up to the pier and as the group walked to the entrance gate our cruise director Susana yelled for them to step back as everyone had walked to within 5ft of a dragon. No one had seen it and all of a sudden everyone jumped. We were all very excited and were able to get quite close to the sedate ten footer. That was also when the mozzies came out as half of us starting scratching uncontrollably. We walked to the ranger station and saw another big male laying on the low grass and again we didn't see it until we were within tripping distance. There were 3 more conveniently outside the kitchen window. The dragons are so still, like Disneyland rocks, that you don't take notice of them until they're pointed out to you then you can't figure out how you ever missed these menacing beasts. They're rather evil looking lizards, even when they're laying flat on their bellies. Their eyes look like they're constantly following you. One month ago a local boy was mauled by one while relieving himself behind a tree and died soon after from all the rotting meat bacteria in the dragon's saliva. Knowing this we kept our distance at first. Slowly we got braver with our proximity to them as they would at most lift their heads to follow us. At the end I was even brave/foolish enough to touch the big male on the tail. I thought that would be the peak of the excitement, silly me. On our way out we saw the dragon that met us at the gate had moved down the way around the rocky shore. Peter the Polish Canadian decided he wanted to toss some little fishies, 1 inch long, at the dragon to see if he could insight some reaction, any sign of life. Four of us inched to within 6ft of the ten foot long Komodo dragon. He had turned his head to regard us. One fish, two fish, three fish land right in front of his snout and he didn't even blink. I turned off the video. Peter gives up and tosses the last one at the dragon. The dragon raises his head then feet and advances towards us. As someone had joking pointed out earlier, we didn't have much of an exit path if the dragon decided to rush us. And he kept on coming, closing in on our cushion of safety. Knowing the dragons could run at 30mph we wasted no time to recognize we had dropped on the food chain and turned to bolt. I hobbled down the rocky shore imagining the dragon increasing its speed behind me. I looked back to see if it was still in pursuit and saw that he was advancing with his forked tongue leading the way. Steve had fallen off his precarious position, the water bottles were on the ground, and he was fumbling to get up. Granted he did stay behind the longest and got some good photos of the 'attack'. I yelled for him to 'leave the water!' while I kept hopping over the rough rocks. One of my flip-flops broke and flew off, then the other so I continue on barefoot, ripping flesh off a big toe. At a safer distance I looked back over my shoulder and the dragon had stopped its pursuit and was glaring at us in his raised ready position. We hurried to the boat and every time we looked back the dragon was still on its feet watching us. Don't worry we're fine, and we're sure to put the 'Blair Witch' style video of our chase online in the video library, eventually. It's both lame and hysterical.
--Mary

Moana Living

2007-07-06T06:41:00.000-07:00

We heard the waters of Indonesia are fabulous for underwater life so we hopped at the chance of incorporating our Komodo dragon visit with a 5 day liveaboard that we booked online. Of course we were nervous about the actual boat conditions. We saw some local liveaboards on glorified fishing boats and hoped desperately that the website was true to life. On board we met the owner, tour operator, and the agent. They were incredibly friendly and we felt at home almost immediately. They were making this into a vacation as much as we were. There were only five normal passengers and an 8 person crew. The Moana was exactly like advertised, in even better condition than the photos actually. It's a beautiful 4yr old 80ft vessel made with Kalimantan wood in the 400 year old south Sulawesi tradition. Our cabin had an aircon unit that dwarfed the room and a private western style tiled bathroom. Very nice. This boat was designed for comfort with all the amenities. The on call barman Woody brought us papaya smoothies and had a platter of fried bananas after our first dive. It was a glimpse of the service to come. We didn't have to lift a finger, except to get another drink from our 'Isaac'. We did 3 dives during the day and 1 at night with torches in hand. We saw all kinds of big and small creatures, many of which were new to us. There were even dolphins playing around on 3 different days. There was plenty of nap, beach, and hammock time. Our daily schedule went as follows: eat, dive, eat, nap, dive, eat, nap, dive, eat, nap, dive, eat, sleep. Seriously, that's what we did each day. I know, a busy schedule but it grew on us.

--Mary

Robinson Crusoe with Banana Pancakes

2007-07-06T06:17:00.000-07:00

We arrived on the island of Flores a week before our dive boat was due to leave for a tour of the islands around Komodo. Without sufficient motivation to trek around Flores, we faced being stranded in the port town of Labuanbajo. The only option that suited us was to run out to the nearby island of Seraya for a few days of deserted isle bliss. We shared this tiny island with just a handful of other guests, a few staff, a small fishing village at the far end of the sand and a family of squeaking deer who truly own the beach.Our beachfront bamboo huts may not have had air conditioning or indoor plumbing, but we did get electricity and running water for four hours a day. Freshwater for showering is brought in from the mainland, so we'd run out to the ocean with buckets to get saltwater to flush the toilet with.
The first day, we heard some odd high pitch barking while we were napping on the beach. After a while we found we were sharing the beach with a family of short and stout deer. Barking deer. One took a keen interest in us and I ended up wrestling with his horns and making a friend for life.There is a small restaurant that is intent on teaching guests how to say "no" in Indonesian. At breakfast, "no toast". For lunch, "no curry", "no oil". The best was the third day when we learned there was no more fish to be had. Really. Fish. We're on an island! There's a fishing village just over the hill! Alas, we were forced to move on to squid, which turned out just fine.
A Finn learned to climb the palm trees one day and a Frenchman had found a machete, so we learned how to crack coconuts one night. There was even an attempt at making steamed coconut milk by leaving the nut in the fire for a bit before hacking it open. Too bad we didn't have a cappuccino machine to go with it.
Six days later, we'd done not much more than sleep, eat, snorkel, float in the water and read. In other words, it was a great week and prepared us for the rough days ahead on our dive boat.

The Gilis

2007-07-06T05:56:00.001-07:00

To recover from our short trip home we headed directly to Gili Trawangan off the waters of Bali. It took us two travel days from SFO but the prospect of no cars and nothing to do but to soak in the sun and the sea on a spit of land the size of a city mall was irresistible. The only way to get there was by local fishing boat, but once you're on the island there's no reason to leave. It's a tropical island escape with all the western comforts. Meals are eaten on shaded cushions on the water's edge. During the day we lazed in the pool, joined in the afternoon sand volleyball game, or did some diving towards our advanced certification. There is a single dirt road and with horse carts offering rides. A bar projects the latest movies on a wall at night. Or you can watch a movie of your choice on your private platform with the water 20 feet behind the screen. At night the starry universe reveals itself in twinkling detail. Add no bugs and no humidity and Gili is one of our favorite beach spots to get away from it all without roughing it, all for a whopping $20 a day.

--Mary

The Most Expensive Hockey Game...EVER

2007-07-06T05:39:00.000-07:00

It had been a year since we had last been home and while sitting in Bali we found an opportunity to go back to the Bay Area for a short visit. We booked the next flights out and found ourselves back in the middle of Silicon Valley as if we'd only been gone on a 2 week vacation. There was only enough time during our week long stay to visit a short list of family and friends. Steve squeezed in a couple games of hockey and I got in a few tennis and golf swings. The only other thing we exercised was our stomachs. We went to our favorite eateries and, of course, there was mom to make sure we were overstocked on food. We got a bigger harddrive for our ever growing collection and restocked on dri-fit underwear for Steve. Before we knew it we were back on an airplane with another 2 days of travel to pick up where we left in Indonesia.

Thanks everyone that rearranged their days to say hi to us and make our stint home worthwhile.

Bali

2007-07-06T05:19:00.001-07:00

Bali really didn't hold much interest for either of us initially, but it turns out we've now spent nearly two weeks total here. Aside from touristy reasons, it turns out to be a comfortable home base and airline hub for the islands east of Sumatra. There's plenty of tourism, but the island has quite a bit more hidden between the beaches, resorts and tourist-only temples.

Here a temple, there a temple...Bali is mostly Hindu, and there are something like 20,000 temples that dot the countryside. No kidding. All over the island are Home Depot-style temple and statuary stores for the Do-It-Yourselfers of Bali. Just about every home has at least a small temple outside, sometimes larger than the house itself. Then there are the community, guild, caste temples and more for protecting the island itself.
...everywhere a temple temple.

It's just very cool to see a culture that is still clinging on amidst so much tourism. We spent a fair amount of time on a scooter getting out of the bustle of the south and found that the countryside is really beautiful. It's hard to believe that the smaller villages and farming communities are on the same little island as Kuta and Denpasar.
Bali does good at making cultural dance and music available. The ultra-touristy town of Ubud has a dozen shows of one kind or another going on in various temples every night. It's actually pretty cool stuff. The Kecak dance has a hundred chanting guys surrounding two dancing girls. Fire Dance has, well, a guy prancing around on a bamboo horse kicking smoldering coconut husks at the audience. Not to be outdone is the Barong dance with the centerpiece mythical dragon/lion/dog thing that prances around. All would do really well in Vegas.
All in all, Bali has kind of grown on us. It's got everything the hardcore tourist wants (A&W, Krispy Kreme and several Dunkin Donuts), but it is easy enough to get away from it all and enjoy the natural wonders and culture.

Back to hiking for a living

2007-07-06T05:17:00.001-07:00

Now that the cultural sites were out of the way, we had only Gunung Bromo and the Ijen Plateau left in Java. Unfortunately, both required a bit of hiking and we're getting lazier by the moment.

Worse, Bromo required waking up for sunrise. Errrrg. Bromo is the little crater in the picture below. I forget the name of the big mountain in the background, but it is an active volcano that spews a plume of smoke up every 20 minutes or so.

The Ijen crater rises above beautiful forests and coffee plantations. A healthy hike up to the top offers a view over a captive lake and steaming sulfur vents. The hike down to the lake is insanely steep and quite dangerous as intense sulfur clouds pass by now and then, both blinding and suffocating all hikers. We, of course, hiked all the way down and played in the sulfur clouds. I got a little too close once and came as close as I ever have to suffocating. It's actually the incredibly intense burning sensation caused by the sulfur that really does it.
What makes this place so interesting is that it is an active sulfur mine. Miners head up the hill and into the crater where they pick up 150 to 180 pounds of sulfur to carry back up the treacherous crater trail. It is absolutely insane what these guys subject themselves to for $4.
I tried out a miner's load and could barely keep my balance. The sulfur weighed as much as me and much more than the little miner!

A warmer and yummier cup of Java

2007-07-06T05:16:00.000-07:00

After Jakarta, we had a great time tooling through the temples and volcanoes of Java. The main cultural center of Yogyakarta is home to matching shrines, one Buddhist and one Hindu. The Hindu temple, Prambanam is a complex off fascinating skyscraper style buildings. At night, the Ramayana story is played out in a ballet style in front of the temples. There's fighting, flying arrows, magic and lots of FIRE when the Monkey god-dude burns the stage down.

Borobodur is the largest Buddhist temple anywhere. Maybe? Too many temples and boasts to keep them all straight. We stayed at the resort on the temple grounds and enjoyed our breakfast while the greenskeepers made it all pretty.
Yogyakarta itself we found pretty interesting and I got a lot of practice on the scooter. There's a cool bird market where you can buy bats, owls, monkeys, mongoose, whatever you like. I decided I really want an owl. They're so cool. We had some really good back-alley food here, too.

Java, no not Starbuck's

2007-06-23T06:39:00.000-07:00

There isn't much in Jakarta to be excited about. It's a big, hectic capital city made of some skyscrapers (the haves) but mostly sprawling dirty village (the have nots). Tony Roma's was our only joy. Everything is flown in from the States so it was all scrumptous to us. Of course it cost as much as our flights there. Then we headed inland to Yogyakarta where there are temples abound. We got back onto the back of a motorbike and explored the numerous Buddhist temples nearby including Prambanan and Borobudur. Here we saw the poverty of the people were evident. Men would lay on their becaks (rickshaw style bikes) waiting for any fare to come along. They'll take you across town for half a buck. But there's too many of them so if they don't get anyone then they don't eat. There are women carrying gallons of juice and pots of rice strapped to their back while rambling the streets hoping to make a few cents to live off of. A local told us that the government is hopelessly corrupt and leaves the people to fend for themselves. Those with a bit of land could atleast farm but those without were left to their own devices, thus the high crime in cities. The people are instantly suspicious of any local with money. They didn't even care about the recent Indonesian killed in a university in the States because anyone overseas got there by corrupt means. We found ourselves opting to eat at the street carts just to spread the money around. For 50cents we got some pretty tasty dishes and lots of smiles.
--Mary

Lake Tobah

2007-06-23T06:29:00.001-07:00

After the bus adventure, we were just about ready to forget it all and fly home, but after the harrowing 20 hours, we had to give Lake Tobah a chance. Tobah feels like Tahoe to me. It's a big, deep and pretty lake surrounded by mountains and with resorts dotting the shore. Unfortunately for the locals, tourism died hard after all the resorts were built and they now sit occupied mostly by locals. We stayed in a decent place for $5 a night. We only paid that much because it just seemed cruel to negotiate down to the $2 we could have paid. Sumatra is really a beautiful island with some wonderful people. It's a shame that they don't get the tourism they so badly want.We weren't really in the mood to play in the lake like all the locals, so our highlight of Tobah was running a scooter around the countryside to see the villages and tombs in this pocket of local and Christian fusion. For whatever reason, they're big into above ground tombs. Fancy tombs that represent their worldly possessions and let them spend eternity in comfort. But what does have to do with a guy riding a fish?

My Lungs Object

2007-06-23T06:19:00.001-07:00

Most of this traveling stuff requires making the best guess you can with whatever limited information is available. Somehow things usually work out. And other times you wonder why you left the comfort of your home as you pick the roach out of your hair at 1am on a pitch dark lurching bus that's already broken down 3 times in the first 6hrs and the engine is LITERALLY held together by a short piece of blue twine. And the only hope you have is that there's only 13 more hours to go. But will we be able to survive the the chain smokers? We estimated that during the 19 hour, 340 mile journey (that's 18mph) between Bukittinggi and Danau Toba in Sumatra the 20 smokers on board lit up 225 cigarrettes. Damn you, Marlboro. Of course none of the windows opened and the aircon wafted out of black holes like the breath of an old asthmatic man climbing up everest. We were in the very last seats with Steve hugging the wall of the toilet. Add that to the warm stench rising up between the seats from the engine below to make a foul olfactory soup. Even then we were better off than the dozen guys that were either passing the night on plastic stools in the aisles, spread across the floor that was dirtier than an Ethiopian refugee camp (or the back of your stove. come on, you know you're afraid to look), or using our backpacks as cushions. Actually that last part didn't look too bad. Somewhere in the dark pits of the mountainous Trans-Sumatran highway the bus stopped and the engine door was thrown open again. They made us give them both our headlamps to work on the engine by flashing their cigarette lighters incessantly at our sleepy eyes. Who goes on an overnight bus trip through the unlit windy roads of the Trans-Sumatran highway on a heap of third world reject parts without a flashlight? At 6am there was a mosque break. At 8am a breakfast break, where we had yet another break of a different sort. We were sleeping the pitstop while everyone had piled off when I woke up and saw smoke billowing down from an electrical fire in the already wheezing air conditioner. Oh well, I guess that means we have time to grab a bite. Another 5 hours of seeing how long I can hold my breath through the mushrooming smoke clouds and we were rolled off the back of the bus onto an empty parking lot. We were two prisoners released from jail, but we had left in such a hurry that we left Steve's flip-flops. Who knows, maybe that too will become part of the engine before their journeys' end.

--Mary

Sumatran School Dayz

2007-06-23T06:14:00.000-07:00

Our first solo drive on Indonesia's crazy motorways was to see Lake Maninjau, about 2 hours from home. Once off the main truck roads, driving really isn't so bad. The biggest problem is that the countryside is so incredible that keeping my eyes on the road was really tough. The lake is down in a crater which makes for great views, and a windy windy road. There's a sign at each of the 42 'acknowledged' hairpins letting you know just how far you still have to go. Funny. From up the hill, we had noticed what looked like fisheries all along the lake's edge, so we stopped to check one out. We got permission from some random kid to raft out and walk on one. It's quite a setup, dozens of net tanks filled with thousands of fish. Later, we saw the lucky fish being tossed into clear trashbags half filled with water, just like the goldfish you got from the store as a kid full sized. But these were heading back into town on a flatbed truck for our dinner.Our plan to circumnavigate the lake and be home in time for tea was derailed early on when a couple kids on a scooter pulled up and started chatting. Long story short, it was their turn to capture tourists to bring back to their English school. We really had nothing better to do, so we followed them to a nearby town and let their mates quiz us with stock questions on our age, favorite color and food, job, etc. Mary got the smart ones; I got the 2nd month students who could only read the questions in their notebooks. We eventually escaped to face the harrowing drive UP the crater wall and back to town for dinner.

Bumps and grinds of Indonesia

2007-05-20T06:06:00.000-07:00

We just finished a really short run through Sumatra (really just Bukittinggi and Lake Tobah) and arrived in Jakarta last night. Tomorrow we fly on to Yogyakarta and get into the heart of the island of Java. We're having a surprisingly good time so far. Here's Indonesia's report card so far:

A Sumatran coffee is great. Motor oil without the edge. I'm lovin' it.
A+ The agrarian countryside is the most beautiful I think I've ever seen. Bright terraced rice paddies wedged between volcanic hills and deep lakes. In some spots, it's a postcard in every direction.
B People are reserved, but friendly. They've suffered from a huge drop in tourism in the last few years, but haven't hassled us or tried to compensate unduly for their economic troubles.
A Travel here is nearly free. Flying is cheaper than taking a bus. Hotel rooms in the resorts hit hardest by the drop in tourism can go for $2 a night. A hotel dinner at same resorts is a whopping $7 for the two of us. Of course, here in Jakarta, we just spent $35 to pig out at Tony Romas. But that doesn't count.
B+ The local food is great. We haven't gone too deep into the cuisine, but like what we've tried so far. And since the country is split between Moslem and Christian, we get bacon and pork. Pork rendang with coconut shavings is my favorite so far. Well, that and the A&W rootbeer float I had today...
A There are no other tourists here. At all. Got the hole country to ourselves.

Not everything passes, though:
F- Road quality is the worst I've ever been on. The Trans-Sumatran Highway is a muddy, windy, bombed out back alley. We made the mistake of doing an overnight ride on it and feel fortunate to have survived.
C- Reliable tourist information is tough to come by. Prices, times, routes, all the stuff you like to know as a tourist gets a different answer from everyone you ask and yet another reality when you get to the truth. Not unheard of, but annoying.

Internet has been hard to come by. Hope to get some photos up soon, but who knows :)

Last minutes in Singapore

2007-05-11T06:58:00.000-07:00

Well, our time is up in Singapore. We're doing our last packing tonight and we head for an early morning ferry to Indonesia tomorrow. Gone will be the comforts we've come to expect here: warm showers, toilets, Mrs. Fields and Ben&Jerry and the internet. We expect to be roughing it more often than not for the next couple months, but hope to spend some time on tropical beaches or under the sea. We've even started anti-malarial drugs again. The basic plan is to start at the westernmost tip of Sumatra working our way southeast towards Papau New Guinea until we turn and head north to Borneo.

In the last couple days of internet access, we have managed to get a few things up for you. There are now photo albums posted for the Seychelles and Singapore. I even managed to get a few video clips up from early on in our travels. Hopefully more to come. Take a look for the link at right.

I've eaten in Singapore and can't get up

2007-05-09T09:55:00.000-07:00

Coming into Singapore, we planned only to stay long enough to get our bearings and visas for Indonesia. Nothing specific we had heard or read was terribly inspiring. Not bad, just not interesting. But it turns out that Singapore is just the right place for us right now. After not seeing a true world-class city since Istanbul 8 months ago, Singapore hits the spot. San Francisco style shopping for Mary, wireless internet for me and an endless supply and variety of good Asian food for both of us. There's actually a ton of odd American food here too. McD, BK and Carls are represented, but so are some real small timers like Swensons and Ben&Jerries icecream, Mrs. Fields and Famous Amos cookies and even Long John Silvers.
Back home I remember hearing about the cruel caning of an American kid caught chewing gum here. Sounds pretty tyrannical. But this is the cleaning city I've ever seen. Their laws might be a bit annoying if you're not paying attention, but that kid deserved a whack for trying to mess this town up. Even Mary is not afraid to touch the railings in the subway. It's just spotless. And here's why: no smelly durian fruit allowed in the subway.
After a week of comfort, we picked up the visas we wanted for Indonesia and now we must contemplate going back on the road. But before we do, there's time to have fun at the aquarium.

Marshmallows and Pink Dolphins

2007-05-09T09:54:00.000-07:00

We'd been having fun eating everything in Singapore, but needed to do something even more touristy. There's a little island called Sentosa (pronounced "Disneyland") attached to downtown that has a bunch of golf courses, resorts and smalltime attractions. There's even a dolphin show and aquarium.
We started with the dolphin show and found out that dolphins in this part of the world can be pink. That's right, pink. We sat in the front row for the show and Mary got picked as a volunteer to play with one. but first, she had to do a hula hoop for us. Great show! We went back for another show a couple days later and I got picked. I can't keep the hoop up for the life of me, but I still got to play with a pink dolphin.

Next we headed for the aquarium, saw the usual, and unusual, fishies and then a dugong. That's a cousin to the manatee. At only 7 years old, Gracie is a bit smaller at just 400 pounds and cuter than a manatee. We think she looks like a big marshmallow.

We wanted to get a little closer so we jumped into the aquarium tank with her! We spent half an hour in the Singapore Underwater World aquarium feeding Gracie the dugong. How cool is that? Well, it was pretty cool. She's soft and spongy as a marsmallow. Surprisingly, her body is as stubbly as me after a couple days of not shaving. And she's cute and playful as a little puppy.

We took turns feeding her sea grass and she chomped away, going up for a breath of air now and then. She has no teeth, so we even let her munch on our fingers a bit. It tickled when she gummed the grass our of our hands.

Part of the fun was watching the tourists pass by in front of us. If you've ever wondered if fish can see you, they can. And they don't like camera flashes.

The truth about the Seychelles

2007-05-08T08:12:00.000-07:00

What do you do to break up a long flight between South Africa and Singapore? Have an extended layover in Seychelles, of course! That was actually a tough decision because we didn't want you all to think we're just tooting around the world going from beach to beach. Even if it is true.

The Seychelles actually looks like those glossy spreads with brilliant blue waters and powder white beaches. And not just a few places but all of the islands are idealic. Seriously. We are converted believers and we're both cynical by birth.

We spent time on the 3 main islands of Mahe, La Digue, and Praslin. La Digue was hands down our favorite. It's small enough that you could circumnavigate it in a day by foot. It has a tight knit community with a population of 400 where you feel safe walking in the pitch black of night. La Digue is developed enough for all the comforts like air conditioning and prosciutto but the modes of transportation are bicycle and oxcart. There were countless stretches of beaches that awed us, so many that we often had our own. The massive granite boulders that make up the archipelago provide the islands with a stunning backdrop that is superior to the typical volcanic or coral based ones. In all the major considerations for perfect beaches (i.e. water, sand, weather, scenery) we have to agree with the hype that the Seychelles holds quite a few of the top ten spots in the world. The best part is that this place is so under populated and touristed that you feel like you have it all to yourself.

Oh the days of our lives wasted lounging on the calm crystal waters of the Seychelles, so blue it was like floating in the sky. We miss them so much.

Robben Island

2007-05-08T07:42:00.000-07:00

This island was once an exile for lepers but it is infamous in recent history for Nelson Mandela's 18yr imprisonment, among many other political prisoners. For 12yrs they were forced to work at the limestone quarry, pointless menial labor, as a form of punishment. All those years not only blinded their vision from the painful reflection but caused respiratory problems like pneumonia, asthma, and cancer. Mandela can no longer take flash photos nor shed tears as a result. There was a small cave dug into the exposed rock that the prisoners used as a toilet and shade from the sun. In secret they would write on the walls with their fingers to educate the less schooled. This area was the only place the inmates had to socialize as they were kept in separate cells in seclusion for most of the day. It was within these limestone walls that the ideas for an apartheid free South Africa were crafted; the country's first democratic parliament.

In the prison we met our guide, a prisoner from 1977-1982 accused of being a student activist. He was 16 when he was arrested and told the wretched story of his capture at night in his home while his shocked family pleaded with the police. He shared in gruesome detail life behind within those walls including the beatings, brutality, and torture he endured and witnessed during his detention and life on Robben Island. No one can hear his story and not be moved by his tragedy and eventual acceptance. His scars are a tragic souvenir from his life there. We saw the cell that Nelson Mandela spent his 18 years on the island, smaller than the pens the guard dogs each lived in. It is astounding that apartheid was alive and strong up to 1994 and shadows of it still linger all over Africa. For proof one only needs to look at the shanty townships hidden in the outskirts of each city.

Cage Match

2007-04-10T12:35:00.000-07:00

We tried to resist the tempation of the Capetown tourist trap of diving with great white sharks, but how could we say no to danger, fear, questionable animal tourism practices or freezing ocean waters?

Capetown is perhaps the most reliable location in the world for seeing great white sharks. There's a large cape fur seal colony 40,000 strong sitting in shallow water just off the coast and the unique combination of their presence and the underwater topography creates an irresistible chum line known as Shark Alley. It is estimated that about 1,000 white sharks a year pass through the area, each staying for just a few days.

But all that really matters is that we decided to brave 54F waters, claustrophobia and fear of animals that eat people to jump into a little cage and get closer to some sharkies.

The cage is a little small and you have to stick your toes and fingers outside to hang on. After a while you realize that the water is really murky partly thanks to the chum you're swimming in.

The boat chums the water and throws big fishheads in to give the sharks something to focus on, but tries not to let the sharks eat any of the bait so they don't learn to associate the boats with feeding. So for a while we just watched the sharks swim up to the bait and then turn away as it was pulled from them.

But these guys are pretty quick and a couple were a bit fiesty and did manage to get teeth into the bait - and that made for some good times as the skipper and the shark fought over the bait.

We had two exciting close encounters while in the cage. The first one was a smaller shark that caught the bait and held on. He was right next to us thrashing around for a minute or so before he finally ran off with the fishhead:

The next fun one was a real excited shark lunging at the bait right next to us and gave the cage a hard enough whack with his tail to knock us down. The video is great - it shows nothing but the camera bouncing around in a sea of bubbles and foam.

At the end of the day, we saw around 6 different sharks ranging from little 8' juveniles to a couple 12'ers and one 13' male (all sizes according to our skipper). Swimming around us, they looked pretty big, but these were all still small compared to the 18 feet they can grow to.

And we still have all our fingers and toes.

Napa, South African Style

2007-04-09T14:02:00.000-07:00

Yes, yes, we don't condone this. Don't do this at home. Kiddies look away. Leave it to the professionals...and all that. Now read on.

Our first stop in South Africa was Stellenbosch, their answer to wine country. Armed in a rental car we weaved through the scenic hills covered with rolling vineyards, grand estates, and looming rock mastifs. Imagine Napa valley with the Rocky mountains as the backdrop. Really a gorgeous drive on a sunny day. The wines were largely uninteresting and for my uber sensitive taste buds hardly drinkable. With descriptions like 'asparagus' and 'mint' we didn't get our hopes up. But essence of 'Karoo bush shrub', reminiscence of 'a cigar box' and a taste of 'lead pencil' was over our threshold and we did all we could to not gag too noticeably. We did find some lovely stuff, specifically a Spice Route flagship syrah and a Simonsig white wine infused with lychee. We stopped at a brandy distillery and tasted one of their 15yr old bottles. I think they tried to poison us with Drano. Seriously, people actual like this stuff?!?

Yes, that would be Steve in a right hand drive car on the left side of the road with a sloshing glass of white wine in his hand (Gewurztraminer in case you're curious). Talk about bad things coming in 3s. Oh wait, making a u-turn onto the curb on the wrong side of the road in front of a police car with said drink in hand would make 4.

*editors note to mom and dad, kids and law enforcement types: notice that we are in the parking lot of a winery. This is a staged and posed photo. The keys probably aren't even in the ignition.

Almost off the wagon

2007-04-01T05:18:00.000-07:00

It's been a crazy last few weeks as you can see from the posts below. It seems like we rushed through Zimbabwe, Botswana and Namibia. We're now just a day away from Capetown and the end of our African adventure. We'll get a week to relax in Capetown on our own and then we're off to the Seychelles for a couple week vacation before moving on to Asia.
There's way too many photos from all the animal encounters and death defying feats. Hopefully I'll get some time and a good net connection in Capetown to post them.