Alabama Dan's Travel Journal

The journey to Everest Base Camp

2008-11-17T02:00:00.003-06:00

At four in the morning I awoke to the light outside my window disguising itself as the early morning sun. Looking at my watch, I realized the time and rolled back over trying to get another forty five minutes of sleep until my alarm was due to go off. Wide awake I lay there realizing it would be impossible to fall back asleep and decided to drag myself out of my warm sleeping bag. I packed the last few things away and headed out to find a taxi to take me to the airport. In the twilight of the early morning I departed my guest house and walked down Kathmandu's deserted streets, and quickly came across a taxi driver who was anxious to find a wealthy tourist that he could take to the airport for an inflated fare. We discussed the price of the ride and after a few negotiations, we agreed on a price that was probably double what a Nepali would pay for the same trip. Had I felt like walking for another few minutes, I could have easily found more taxis and cut the price in half but half awake at 4:30 in the morning, I didn't have the energy to argue over a few Rupees that didn't amount to much more than a dollar.

The daylight was spreading across the sky when I arrived at the airport. Once there, I found myself amongst several mini vans unloading groups of tourists with their shiny new boots, jackets and back packs all looking like they had been purchased just minutes before. For each person, there was also a bright blue waterproof duffel bag that was bigger than any bag I have seen in my life. Staring at the size of the bags, I felt sorry for the porters that would have to carry the useless and excess things that these people felt they could not live without on their short trip to Everest Base Camp. What was inside their bags? A change of clothes for each day of the fifteen day journey they would be making? A stack of books for when they were bored in the afternoons? I have no idea what these people needed for the trip but as I looked at my backpack, which I previously thought heavy, I was glad to be independent, not relying on porters and guides to make the climb to base camp for me.

After waiting in line outside the airport, I made my way through the so called security line and waited on my Slovakian friends, Joe and Maria, who would be joining me on the trek. I met Joe and Maria while trekking in the Annapurna Region. We had eaten lunch at a small tea house towards the end of the Annapurna circuit and were all heading into the Sanctuary for the walk to Annapurna Base Camp. That night, after an incredibly long and difficult day of trekking that ended with an enormous uphill climb in the rain, we found ourselves at the same guest house in the village of Chomerong. That night at dinner we found we had a lot in common and quickly became friends. For the rest of the trek, Joe Maria and I found ourselves walking at the same pace and sleeping in the same tea houses, sometimes even sharing a room when sufficient space wasn't available. Since the three of us were all planning on heading to the Everest Region after the trek and though Joe and Maria already had flights, we decided if I managed to fly on the same day we would make the journey together.

It didn't take long for Joe and Maria to show up and it turned out that we were all actually on the same flight to Lukla, the small mountain town where our trek would begin. At the check in counter, in a typically Asian fashion, the small airline decided I would be going on an earlier flight and rushed me out the door and on to the plane leaving me not knowing exactly what was going on, nor where my backpack had managed to disappear to. I was a bit confused but took the change in stride and hoped there would still be a seat on the mountain side of the plane so that I could take in the views of the Himalayas along the way.

Boarding the small plane, I was towards the back of the line of Sixteen passengers. Since the door was at the back, they all began making their way forward leaving an empty seat at the rear of the plane. With a few passengers still waiting behind, I happily took the last seat on the plane that would provide mountain views from the air. Since a similar plane had crashed into the tiny mountain runway just a week before I said a prayer, buckled my seat belt and hoped everything on our flight would be ok.

The tiny airplane with it's roaring propellers lifted smoothly off the runway and within a few minutes we were flying alongside the Himalayan Mountains. The snow covered peaks lined the entire Northern horizon and were gently lit by the early morning sun. As the short flight continued, I looked out the window to find us flying over and around mountain ridges that were needless to say a little to close for my comfort. It didn't take long before the plane began to descend back towards the ground and as we crossed another mountain ridge, I looked down to see a small Nepali hut and we were close enough to it that I could see the smile on the children looking up at the sky pointing at the airplane that crosses over their home every day. Again, I checked my seat belt as the plane began turning and now rapidly descending with the towering peaks soaring high over head. With a loud thump, the landing gear came down and I could see the tiny runway ahead approaching. Avoiding the nearby mountains, we began our approach and within seconds were on the runway with an enormous concrete wall not very far ahead. With a slight jolt that made me wonder if we were still alive, the plane quickly came to a stop and within seconds, the door was open and we were rapidly rushed off the plane.

Before I was able to traverse the short distance to the tiny terminal, three more planes had landed and mine had already reloaded and was taking off. A helicopter flew in as well and the chaos that had ensued after being the first flight of the day on the ground was gripping. There was only room for four planes at the airport and the flight schedule was a race against time. The mornings here are clear but as the day warms up, the moisture from the mountains begins to rise forming fog and clouds rendering the airport useless. It was one of these clouds which suddenly came in as the airplane that recently crashed was landing causing the accident killing all 19 passengers and crew.

Shortly after I landed, Joe and Maria stepped off another plane and we gathered their bags, ate a quick breakfast, and set off on our trip up the valley. Having had several difficult days in the Annapurna Region as well as plenty of time to make the trek to Base Camp, we agreed not to rush and to take it slowly here. For our first day, we planned on walking about four or five hours and to stay in one of the villages along the way to Namche Bazzar. We began our walk and found that the first couple of hours were mostly down hill. Along the way, we found the views up the valley to be incredible and the weather to be hot and sunny. Though it was early in the morning when we arrived and the air in the mountains was cold enough to make you pull out a jacket, we now found ourselves in shorts and t-shirts sweating profusely looking forward to the cooler air high above.

Eventually, the downhill turned into a series of ups and downs following a cascading turquoise river flowing down from the mountains and glaciers far beyond. By lunch time, we found ourselves at a small village called Monjo, our intended destination for our first day of trekking. We nourished ourselves at a small tea house that served excellent hot chocolate and tasty bowls of soup and decided to push on walking into the afternoon. Looking at the map, we found that Namche Bazzar, a bustling mountain trading town situated at the convergence of four valleys was the next logical stop. Located 700 meters higher than where we were eating, it was a pretty tough climb to make before dark. Feeling pretty good however and ignoring our earlier decision to move slow, we decided it would be easy and pressed on.

The sun was setting after the tiring climb and as we crested the hill, we came over a small ridge to where we could finally see Namche Bazzar. I couldn't believe the size of this town located high in the mountains and so isolated from the world. Isolated from cars and from airplanes by a long and exhausting day of difficult walking. Five and six story buildings were everywhere and you could buy anything from Yak Cheese to Knock off North Face Jackets. Bakeries, souvenir vendors and Internet cafes lined the pathways between the quaint little hotels while porters and yak herders passed by ready to deliver their astoundingly heavy loads. There were tourists everywhere buying and browsing the variety of goods, all which are available in Kathmandu for half the price. It was a fascinating place to be and exactly what I expected along the trek to Everest Base Camp.

It's strange that I have met so many people traveling in Nepal that have no intention of trekking in the Everest Region. It seems to be mostly group tours that were organized from far over seas that are making the trip. Most of the independent travelers I have met tended to set out on shorter and easier walks throughout the country. When I asked them why they have come to Nepal and are not taking the opportunity to see the tallest mountain in the world, they usually respond that they heard there was too many people there. Now if that was actually the only reason, they could easily come in early December or mid March and make the journey practically alone. Sure it might be a bit colder and you walk through snow every now and then but essentially you would find that the trail was empty. Personally, I think they are too scared to attempt a trek at such a high altitude. Of course there is a lot of people here. It is the tallest mountain in the world! What do you expect? It's like going to see the pyramids in Egypt and expecting a full days walk across the desert to where you would have the pyramids to yourself for the day. If you choose to see any of the seven wonders of the world, in this day and age you are going to have to share that experience with a lot of other people!

After a night of eating yak steaks and drinking more hot chocolate, Joe, Maria and I enjoyed a long relaxing breakfast before heading out for the day. We didn't have any idea where we would be sleeping that night but we had taken note of several view points along our intended route and had aspirations of catching our first glimpse of Everest that morning before the afternoon clouds began to roll in. From Namche, it was a steep climb up the mountain to the first view point of the day. High on top of the hill above Namche we found a hotel operated by a rude and unfriendly staff. A cup of tea there was impossible as they only sold it by the pot which in turn would cost us about ten U.S. Dollars. That's highway robbery as far as I'm concerned! Near the hotel however we found plenty of wide open space to sit back and enjoy the incredible first views of Mount Everest, Lhotse and Ama Dablam. From where we stood, the peak of Mount Everest could be seen soaring high up into the jet stream with the wind blowing an enormous cloud of snow from it's peak and off into the air over Tibet.

We continued down the path to the Sherpa town of Khumjung where we were happy to find cups of hot tea for about thirty cents and a menu filled with cheap food. From the table at the tea house, relaxing in the noon day sun, snow covered Ama Dablam towered high above giving us a spectacular setting for another meal in the mountains. With our batteries recharged, we set off into the afternoon being watched along the way by the snow covered peaks that were now beginning to surround us. The trail continued climbing high up into the Gokyo Valley and we were now separated from the typical route to Everest Base Camp by a seemingly endless wall of impenetrable mountains.

The end of the day left us in the village of Mong, nearly 4,000 meters high already. It was cold and we were happy to take refuge inside the warm dining space of one of the three tiny tea houses that were located there. The clouds came in late in the afternoon and didn't leave us with much to take photographs of that day so we managed to pass the time in the warmth of the dining hall, sipping on hot chocolate and talking with the Nepali family who owned the home we would be sleeping in.

It was now the third day of the trek and the views were continuing to get better. While there was still a few tour groups floating around the Gokyo Valley, we found ourselves to be trekking alone throughout the day only occasionally passing a few hard working porters or a man and his line of yaks bringing goods and supplies to the villages of the Gokyo Valley. From Mong, we continued our climb into the mountains through beautiful alpine meadows that were filled with grazing yaks and stone shepherds huts. The hilltops were covered in prayer flags flapping in the strong winds that raced up the valley. After another long day of walking and beginning to feel the effects of the cold, we found ourselves in a tiny tea house at an elevation of almost 4,500 meters. While Maria took refuge inside the warmth of the little tea house, Joe and I braved the icy cold to watch the sunset on the mountains. Though clouds continued to block our views to the East, at the end of the valley, Cho Oyu could be seen towering high into the sky with a colorful array of clouds drifting past it's summit. As the sun continued to set, the 8,000 plus meter peak of Cho Oyu began to glow orange in the distance. It looked like a giant smoking volcano with fire spewing from it's conical peak. It was a spectacular way to end another glorious day of trekking in the Himalayan Mountains.

We set off early the next morning for the village of Gokyo and it didn't take long for the first of the six lakes in the Gokyo region to show up. While the first lake wasn't much more than a wide and shallow spot in a small stream, you could already see the brilliant color of the turquoise water in it's shallow depths. Shortly after the first, the second lake came into view followed shortly there after by the third with the picturesque village of Gokyo quietly resting on it's shore. I couldn't believe the setting for this tiny village high up in the Himalayas. The mountain backdrop behind the lake was incredible in itself but that wasn't the half of it. A few hours climb up a nearby mountain would provide us with spectacular views of Everest and the surrounding peaks as would a short trek further up the valley toward the border with Tibet and the base of Cho Oyu.

In Gokyo, we managed to negotiate a good price (about sixty cents) for a room at a tea house that we found had the best price on yak steaks in the entire village, a very important item for my survival in the Himalayas. It was still early morning when we checked in and after a second breakfast followed shortly after by lunch, Joe, Maria and I headed up to the top of Gokyo Ri, a nearby mountain peak, to watch the sunset on Mount Everest and all of the other surrounding peaks. Most people, or at least those with the energy, make the climb up Gokyo Ri in the early morning of their second day here, trying to catch sunrise. It makes sense to allow them a days rest in the village and then a good nights sleep before making the six hundred meter plus climb to almost 5,400 meters. They then typically return to their guest houses for breakfast and head back down the valley to one of the villages below. Both being photographers, Joe and I couldn't understand their mentality. Everest is due East of Gokyo Ri and you wouldn't see a single ray of light strike it's face until at least around noon. It is the perfect place to be to watch the sun set on the mountain and everyone seemed to be doing just the opposite. Happy with the ignorance of the other travelers around, Joe, Maria and I were excited about the opportunity to have the mountain top to ourselves.

With the sun low in the sky and the clouds rapidly moving in, Joe, Maria and I arrived at the top and happily found ourselves to be the only ones around. Since we knew the temperature would drop rapidly as soon as the sun was completely gone, we all immediately changed into our thermals, heavy coats, gloves, hats and extra socks. The clouds by now had filled up the valley and were blocking most of our views down but all of the mountain peaks in the area being the tallest mountains in the world, were poking through the clouds high up above. Joe and I began taking pictures while Maria, already starting to freeze, headed back down the mountain. As we snapped photo after photo of all of the mountains around including Mount Everest, Lhotse, Cho Oyu, and Ama Dablam, everything just kept looking more and more incredible. My photos of that sunset will never do the experience justice but I now find myself being unable to quit looking at them over and over again.

After watching the last rays of light of the day turn the tips of the mountains the brightest color of orange you can imagine, Joe and I now freezing to death, packed up our things and began the steep descent in the dark of night down the face of the mountain. Today, the clouds which typically disappear just after sunset decided to stick around. We walked down the hill hoping we were following the right path with our headlamps reflecting off the surface of the clouds that were now engulfing us. Since it was well below freezing, Joe and I kept up as fast a pace as we could trying to keep the blood flowing to our already numb fingers and toes. It didn't take long for us to suffer the first of several falls on the way down but eventually we found ourselves below the cloud level and could see the shore of Gokyo lake not too much further below. The few lights of the dining halls in the village could be seen glowing and both Joe and I couldn't wait to get inside to warm up by the stove that was filled up with dried yak dung and sip on a hot chocolate to revive the feeling back into our fingertips and toes.

The following day, Joe, Maria and I continued our exploration of the Gokyo region further up the valley towards Tibet. We packed lunches of canned tuna and cheap crackers and headed off to visit the upper lakes of the region. Our legs were pretty tired from the day before but it wasn't too long until I came across the fourth and fifth lakes of the Gokyo Region. The shores of the fifth lake were as beautiful as the other four so waiting for Joe and Maria, I found a rock to shelter me from the frigid wind that was beginning to pick up speed and amongst the beautiful setting I sat there alone and ate my simple meal. A half hour or so passed when I finally spotted Joe and Maria climbing up a nearby ridge on a pile of scree. They were heading away from the lake and up to the top of an embankment that looked down on the nearby glacier that we were going to eventually have to cross on our way to Mount Everest. Neither of them seemed to see me by the lake so I walked over to wear they were heading. At the top of the hill, across the glacier, I discovered the reason for the climb. You could see more of Everest from here than from anywhere we had been so far. There were no people around and the three of us spent a couple of hours just sitting on the rocks and photographing the incredible vista that surrounded us. It was a magical place to be at the convergence of three glaciers surrounded by the highest mountains in the world.

As the afternoon wore on, we hoped to stick around for as long as we could to catch the afternoon light descending on the mountains. The wind however had different ideas in mind. It had been picking up all day long and since we were at an elevation of over 5,000 meters, the icy wind had a nasty bite on our unprepared skin. With Joe still taking photos, I decided to head back down the valley and retreat to our tea house for a much needed bowl of sugary hot porridge. As I left the relative shelter of the pile of rocks we had been resting behind, I couldn't believe the strength of the wind in my face. It was coming right at me and I had several hours of walking directly into it. I tied the hood up on my jacket and closed all my zippers but it still felt like something was pushing me back and trying to keep me from my destination. Breathing the thin oxygen up there (50% less than at sea level) wasn't helping much either. I quickly became tired, cold and hungry and wanted nothing more than to finish the days walk. The views no longer mattered to me, only getting out of the relentless wind which was blocking my path home. After over two hours of walking up and down hills and staring at the mountains I knew to surround the village of Gokyo, I finally began to see the shore of the lake and the rooftops of the buildings that would provide me with some shelter. It was a welcome site to see and as always, I couldn't wait to get into the tea house and have a warm cup of hot chocolate!

Another cold night passed with me inside my sleeping bag wearing all of the clothing in my bag and I awoke to find the water in my bottle mostly frozen. We were heading over the Cho La Pass and possibly making our way to Lobuche that day and I knew it was going to be the most difficult day of all of my trekking in Nepal. Earlier along the way, we has spoken to several guides and discussed options for going over the pass that connects the Gokyo Valley with the Everest Valley. There is a place to stay at the bottom of the mountain on both sides and combined with the distances and steep climbs involved, they all told us that the journey from Gokyo to Lobuche via the Cho La pass was a two day journey, minimum and most people do it in three.

At 6:00 a.m. Joe, Maria and I made our way back down the valley to where we found what we thought was the path that led us to the glacier we needed to first cross. It went over a ridge and dropped steeply down to the scree covered glaciers. As we walked up and down amongst the enormous piles of rocks and ice, we finally found our trail came to an end. The mountains on the other side of the glacier came down to what we figured would be the beginning of the trail over the path and in the distance we could see a few prayer flags marking the tea house on the other side of the glacier where we planned to have breakfast. With the trail at an end, we found ourselves quite unsure where to go as much of the rock piles were unstable and there were small lakes and streams wandering across the surface of the ice everywhere.

Not too long after we began forming a plan of how to get across, we spotted a group of porters carrying enormous loads and moving fairly quickly. They seemed to be on a path across the glacier and were passing a point that seemed easy enough to get to. We headed straight for them, found the path and easily followed along. From the point where we picked up the right trail, it didn't take long to find our way to the tea house where we warmed up with coffee, tea and a couple of bowls of oat porrige. It was now 8:00 in the morning and we were in a small settlement known at Dragnag that rested at 4,700 meters at the entrance to the pass. From what we could tell on our map, the trail climbed fairly steadily all the way up to the pass at 5,300 meters. It is supposed to be a pretty difficult traverse often requiring crampons, ropes and ice axes but back in Kathmandu, the local people had said that there hadn't been too much snow and ice lately so it shouldn't be a problem to make it over without all the gear. Sitting at breakfast, Joe, Maria and I were all hoping they were right.

Following a small ice encased stream, we began our way up the pass. The air was thin but the path wasn't too steep and gradually we began to climb. Up, Up, Up we went as trail continued on. Eventually, I found myself in the front of our group climbing up to what I thought must be near the top. I figured it would be a false summit or in this case, a false pass but in my mind, the pass couldn't be much further beyond. I easily reached the top and when I was there, I couldn't believe what I was seeing. While I had been right about the pass not being too far away, the trail dropped back down a couple of hundred meters before leading up to the face of what seemed to be an impenetrable wall of rock, snow and ice! Another man that was leading another group across that day was standing nearby, resting and waiting on his group, who had left an hour before us, to make it up the hill. He was wearing an Altimeter that read 5,100 meters. In theory we were only two hundred meters from the top but with a two hundred meter descent, that put the final climb at another four hundred meters. I stared at the path down below disappearing into the rocks along the base of the mountains and after unsuccessfully locating a good way up, I asked the nearby guide where the pass was located. He pointed to a snow and ice covered gap that wasn't much more than a sliver of light shining through the mountain ridge. I couldn't believe that there was a safe way up the vertical face lying before me to this tiny gap high up in the mountains!

We descended down and made our way across the barren valley floor and found ourselves staring up at a steep wall of rocks with a a few scrapes here and there designating our way up the mountain. The climb was difficult and slow forcing us to stop and rest every couple of minutes to catch our breath in the thin mountain air. I don't know how long it actually was before we reached the frozen top but by then we had all decided that maybe the journey we had intended was a bit long and we should try and take refuge in the tea house located at the bottom of the pass on the other side.

After a few minutes up top for photos, a snickers bar and a bit of rest, we began traversing the glacier that led down the opposite side of the mountain. Though not as steep, it was an equally difficult and slippery journey down. In the flatter sections, there was enough snow to walk on to keep you on the mountain. As the trail descended however, it yielded to slick ice causing us all to suffer several small falls along the way. An hour or so after setting foot on the glacier the ground began to reveal the rocks beneath the snow and ice and the trail dropped steeply down the back side of the mountain ridge. We could see the tea houses in Dzonglha down below and were looking forward to a healthy lunch though it was already past 2:00 in the afternoon.

In Dzonglha we discovered an expensive menu, an extremely rude staff and the worst dorm room you could ever imagine. Two layers of beds stacked on top of each other, all built as one. There weren't even separate sheets, just one big bed with each spot designated by a dirty pillow. Not able to believe the fact that this place was so expensive and dirty, we found it even harder to believe that it was packed full of people who had either come over the pass earlier that day or were planning on heading over in the morning. Compared to everywhere we had slept along the way, this was by far the worst place yet. There was no way Joe, Maria or myself wanted to have anything to do with it. Though we were tired, the food had given us a bit more strength to go on and we continued on our way to Lobuche, another three hours climb further up the Everest Valley.

In Lobuche, we found the accommodations to be as bad if not worse than Dzonglha but somehow we managed to get our own room with three separate beds. The lodge was packed and lit by candles and even in a small room filled with people crowded around a wood burning stove, the bitter cold was still coming through. We ate dinner in our warm hats, jackets and gloves and all headed off to bed early. It had been a 12 hour day of walking and climbing, the hardest of any of my days trekking in Nepal but we were just a few hours walk from the last settlement along the way to Everest Base Camp.

We all awoke to another freezing cold morning and I was beginning to find the hardest thing for me to do in the morning was to pack away my sleeping bag. Within minutes of exiting the bag, it would quickly drop to the temperature of the air around. Gloves inhibited my movement too much to stuff it in efficiently and I found the pain of the extreme cold on my hands to be almost unbearable. Later in the journey, I began bringing my sleeping bag into the dining space and resting it near the wood stove before putting it away making it a much more tolerable experience.

After a moderate two hundred meter uphill that morning, we finally arrived at the village of Gorak Shep, the end of the line of tea houses along the way to Everest Base Camp. After checking in and enjoying some warm drinks and food, we spent the remainder of the morning relaxing and enjoying the views of Nuptse high ahead blocking our view of Mount Everest nor much futher ahead. For the afternoon, we planned to head up to the top of a nearby mountain known as Kalla Patthar and again watch the sunset on Mount Everest.

Gorak Shep is located at 5,140 meters and the top of the mountain we were heading up was 5,550 meters high. The trail didn't look anywhere near as steep as the previous one up Gokyo Ri and by now, we were all very well acclimated so Joe, Maria and I were looking forward to an easy afternoon climb up the mountain. Around 2:30, Joe and I set off alone up the hill as Maria was feeling tired and didn't have enough clothes to brave the extremely cold temperatures that we would be experiencing from the top after sunset. It was a beautiful afternoon walking and it didn't take long for the summit of Everest to begin to appear. There were only a few clouds in the sky and the wind was blowing strong. Joe and I were taking our time, in no rush to reach the top and though breathing heavily at times, the excitement of where we were kept us moving along.

At the top, we found the last few remaining people who came to visit earlier in the day making their way back down. Joe and I had the mountain and the incredible panorama of 360 degree views all to ourselves. We took a few pictures at the peak amongst the colorful prayer flags and each found a spot to set up our tripods and sat back to enjoy the show before us with the sun changing the sky and mountains into a bright and beautiful display of colors. When the sun was no longer shining on us, the temperature quickly began to plummet. We were wearing everything we could but were still freezing cold. High up above however, the sun was still striking the top of Everest along with all of the mountains that surrounded it. Gradually, the white snow caps turned gold and then bright orange. With only the peaks of Nuptse and Everest lit up and not much color left in the sky, the color on the summits changed to a brilliant burning red leaving the peaks flaming amongst the evening sky. I have never before beheld such a beautiful sight. I had waited for this moment for my entire two years of traveling. Here I was, I had finally made it to the only place I had intended on visiting since leaving home and I was rewarded with one of the most spectacular experiences of my life. With a few tears in my eyes, I said a prayer thanking God for giving me the opportunity to have seen so much of his beautiful creations and in the darkness of early night, I began packing away my things for the journey back down the mountain.

There was no rush to be anywhere so we decided to take it easy the next day, visit Everest Base Camp and spend another night in the freezing cold lodge at Gorak Shep. In the morning, it was colder than usual making the task of getting out of our sleeping bags even more of a challenge than usual. There wasn't as much light coming in the window as normal so I could tell that something in the weather had changed. Looking outside revealed a cloud covered sky, the first time we had awoken to clouds since beginning our trek. The weather was changing and I hoped it would hold out for the day so we could have the opportunity to explore base came and the face of the Khumbu Ice Fall.

Outside it was windy so we took our time with breakfast and hoped the weather would begin to clear up. It wasn't showing any signs of improving but also wasn't showing any sign of getting worse outside. We decided to bundle up in our warm clothes and head on out, besides, if the weather began to worsen or snow heavily, we could always turn around and come back. Though not that far away and only a further 200 meter climb, the walk to base camp definitely took us a bit of time. Most of the trail was loose rock that had been piled up by the movement of the Khumbu glacier and once we were on the glacier, it was a series of ups and downs over boulders, loose rock and ice. Along the way, it began to snow a bit but further down the valley we were already beginning to see blue skies.

After walking for eight days, we finally came upon the prayer flags and tents that were scattered around the portion of the Khumbu Glacier that everyone refers to as Everest Base Camp. Though this is not the time of year for people to be summiting, there was a bit of life amongst the few tents there that were set up for tour groups coming to have a look. This day however, we found ourselves sharing the experience with just a few people who all departed shortly after our arrival.

Around Base camp you could see the small clearings amongst the rock where various tents had been pitched in the past. I was impressed with how little trash had been left there as even though I had read that the many mountaineers along with the government had helped get the remnants of past expeditions cleaned up years ago, I still expected to find plenty of debris lying around. Though there was nothing large on the ground or any piles of plastics or rubbish, a quick glance almost anywhere would reveal a few artifacts from the past. Tent stakes, old Budweiser cans, an old warn out glove and numerous other small articles seemed to be popping out of the glacier everywhere, testaments to the history that is still being made with new ascents to the top each year.

At base camp, Joe, Maria and I took our time enjoying the experience. I collected a few rocks as souvenirs and gifts, small pieces of Mount Everest that have traveled far down the face of the mountain along the Khumbu Ice fall and resurfaced at Base Camp. In my bag, I had carried a set of prayer flags which in the tradition of the Nepali and Tibetan people and out of respect for the sacred mountain, I hung them up to fly in the wind, a way of thanking God and the mountain for the experience at hand. With the prayer flags flying, a few rocks in my bag, and now alone as Joe and Maria had already turned back, I sat down on a pile of rubble and stared up at the Khumbu Ice Fall, the treacherous highway that leads climbers to the top of the mountain. The wind was blowing and the only sound in the air was the flapping of the prayer flags. Further down the valley, the sky was nearly clear now revealing the deep and rich blue that can only be found so high up in the mountains. There was nothing more to see now, nothing more to do. I took one last look around and again thanked God for the experience and turned around and headed back down the valley to Gorak Shep for another nights sleep in the freezing cold.

The next day with the thrill of the journey now gone, Joe, Maria and I headed back down the valley. It was an easy walk down as it was all downhill and we quickly found ourselves far away from the mountain. Though still surrounded by the phenomenal beauty of the peaks of the Himalayas, our journey was complete. I still took time to look around and enjoy the scenery but even though we were traversing new ground through the Everest valley, a place we had not seen before, something was missing now and it just wasn't the same as on our trip up. At the end of a long but easy day, we found ourselves half way back to Lukla where the journey began. We slept at a small tea house in Phuki Tenga off the main tourist route and were happy to be out of the freezing cold now already having descended to 3,250 meters. The air felt thick and our lungs no longer struggled for oxygen. Without even needing to zip up my sleeping bag, I got the best nights sleep I have had since the beginning of the trek.

The following morning, on our last day of trekking, I stopped along the narrow path we had been following alongside a steep mountain heading towards Namche Bazzar. It was the last point on the trek from which we would be able to see Mount Everest and I wanted to have one last look. I took a picture with only the top of the snow covered peak barely showing it's face amongst the surrounding mountains and said goodbye to the mountain that has brought so much joy and devastation to the lives of so many people. For this trip, it was the last time I will see the mountain but I know that one day, I will come back. Nepal has captured a place in my heart and it's spirit will remain with me throughout my journey home and to many other places around the world. There is still so much to see here and I feel I have only scratched the surface. Perhaps to the summit one day, who knows what the future will behold. For now however there is nothing more I can do but say goodbye to the mountain and continue on my journey back towards civilization.

Nepali Paradise

2008-10-15T21:31:00.000-06:00

It was a hell of a rough journey by I am glad to be out of the slummy cities of Agra and Varanassi. After a cramped and crowded night train followed by a two hour jeep ride, I walked across the border to Nepal where I then bordered by far the bumpiest and bounciest bus I have ever ridden on in my life. It felt like riding on a combination of plywood and steel over a rocky landslide stricken road on my way to Pokhara, Nepal. Eight hours later, feeling as if I had been stuck in a washing machine for the last eight hours, I was tired and soar but happy to be in a friendlier and cleaner country.

The rapid change upon entering Nepal was astounding! In India, people were constantly pissing and shitting everywhere you looked. In the early morning light, looking out the window of my train I witnessed every person that lived near the train tracks squatting down and shitting in their back yards. Why after living there for year after year, it never has occurred to them to dig a pit, I will never know. Riding in cars and buses throughout India, around every corner is someone else pissing out in the open. It is impossible not to notice, it is everywhere you turn your head. I have never seen so many penises in my entire life, nor do I care to ever again! Combine all of that with the constant filth of trash, shit and cows on the streets and everywhere I visited in India outside of the Himalayas was like one giant slum! I am not kidding. Trash everywhere! Massive amounts of it of all sorts. There was not one single rubbish container anywhere in the country and no one ever cleaned up what was laying around!

Riding along in my bumpy bus up a winding mountain road I immediately noticed the change. No one using the toilet along the road, no trash along the way and everyone was ten times as friendly to us. When I finally arrived in Pokhara, I couldn't believe how clean the streets were. Not a bit of trash to be seen. The hotels looked like royal honey moon sweets compared to those in India and the white table clothed restaurants that lined the streets were a welcome change to the dirty places I found myself eating throughout the low lands of India.

Now I have awoken after a good nights rest, finished a pot of coffee as I sit on my balcony watching the mist clear from the nearby tree covered hills. The sun is still low in the sky and the steep snowy peaks of the Annapurna range are glowing in the sun. With a lake that is deep blue and surrounded by lush green rice paddies, the stark contrast of the white snow on the peaks and the blue sky overhead is a breathtaking sight to behold. I am already regretting now coming to Nepal sooner and find that I may be hard pressed to ever leave.

Varanassi

2008-10-15T21:30:00.000-06:00

I had heard that Varanassi was the epitome of an India experience and was a must see town on the travelers route heading towards Nepal. It was said to be all at once beautiful and disgusting. If you wanted a taste of the real India, this was the place to go. Be prepared however people warned, it is overwhelming. Not just the sights, but the smells, the touts, and everyone in the town!

Coming in on a 12 hour train ride that was delayed a further five hours, I fought my way through the hotel touts and moto rickshaw drivers and managed to get to a point where I could walk down the maze of narrow alley ways toward my hotel. Fortunately a man on the street began talking to me and leading the way. At first I was reluctant as this type of person is usually after a commission from bringing you to the hotel you want to stay at. Without him however, I would still be out wandering the streets.

I arrived at a dirty hotel, as dirty as any I have ever been in but the roof top restaurant that overlooked the city made up for it and most likely I would only be here for a couple of days anyway so that didn't really matter to me, at least not to much. After recharging my body on a ridiculous amount of food at the restaurant, I decided to take a sunset stroll along the riverside ghats (bathing and washing areas). I could see smoke coming from the closest ghat to my hotel and I assumed that this was the ghat I had heard they burned bodies at. A few turns through the alley and there I was, immersed in the middle of a giant outdoor crematorium. People from all over India were burning the bodies of their loved ones while others were still waiting for their turn in the hospice building that overlooked the ghat. A man began explaining to me the different processes the families went through with the bodies and how much money it costs to burn each body with the special wood while all the conversation, ash from the burning corpses rained down upon my head.

After being persuaded to make a small donation to the hospice to help pay for funeral wood, I found myself in the middle of some kind of a religious procession marching down a narrow alley way. Along the way there were stones that people touched, shrines that were kissed and bells that were rung. I never determined where it was going as I turned back toward the river at the first chance I had. Alongside the river again I found myself immersed in a crowd of people bathing, swimming and washing in the Ganges river. Keep in mind now that this river has over 30 sewer systems flowing into it just upstream from the city. It is supposed to be one of the most polluted rivers in the world yet people from all over India come to bathe, wash, drink and sink the bodies of their loved ones into it.

I was enjoying all of the activities of the historic ghats of this holy city but since I was feeling tired, I sat down on some steps overlooking the river to take a break. As I looked out at the river, an old woman dressed in a beautiful purple sari walked down to the edge of the stairs on the riverside. She turned around to face me and then squatted over the water. As there is urine covering almost every inch of ground in the city as well as enough cow shit to make you feel like you are walking through an obstacle course, I figured she was just being polite and urinating in the river. The fact that people nearby were scooping water out with their hands and drinking it didn't seem to matter to anyone and she continued squatting. After a minute, it occurred to me she had been squatting a bit too long to be just urinating. A few more minutes passed and she finally stood up and walked off. Left in her place was exactly what you would you would expect, an armada of little chocolate boats! As they floated toward the people who were drinking the water and swimming, I couldn't bear to watch so I began the confusing journey through the twisting maze of alley ways that lead in the direction of my hotel.

The Taj Mahal

2008-10-15T21:29:00.002-06:00

I spent the morning watching sunrise over the Taj Mahal. It is every bit as magnificent as you could imagine. The rest of the town in which it sits however is quite the opposite. Dirty hotels and although the restaurants were on the rooftops and had views of the Taj, the service and the food was some of the worst I have seen in India!

Trapped in Manali

2008-10-15T21:29:00.001-06:00

I am trapped in Manali! Not sure when the roads are going to be clear but I was just about to board a bus heading towards Delhi and I was informed that it has been canceled do to landslides along the road. It has been raining for three days straight since I returned from my last trek so the landslides are quite understandable. The sky this afternoon however has finally cleared and hopefully tomorrow the roads will be as well and I can venture out of the Himalayas for a bit before heading off to Nepal.

A morning in Manali

2008-09-08T07:20:00.001-06:00

It is cold this morning, colder than it has been since I arrived in Manali. I am still in my sleeping bag but I can tell something is different today. The window as always was open all night and when the first light of the day came in, I began to awake. I pull the sleeping bag over my head and cans see through a crack in the curtains that the sky is gray today. Yesterday, it had begun to rain in the afternoon canceling my plans to follow a nearby river up to the snow line on a nearby mountain. Now, I emerge from my room to find a stunning scene before me. Mist is rising off the pine trees that surround the steep slopes of this narrow valley that I am in. The clouds are high enough to reveal the peaks of the mountain tops flanking the valley that are freshly dusted with snow. It is cold today and the shorts and jacket I am wearing are nowhere near enough to keep me warm. For some reason I decide not to change into something warmer and I pick up my book, sip on my cup of coffee and enjoy the brisk air along with the beautiful mountain views.

Leh to Manali (unbelieveable!)

2008-09-05T07:35:00.003-06:00

I have been trying to sleep now for a couple of hours. My warm fuzzy hat is pulled down over my eyes to keep out any light even though it was three in the morning when I boarded this bus. I am wearing the same clothing I wear snow boarding and yet I am still cold. The bumps on the road and the freezing cold are keeping me from sleeping but I continue to close my eyes and try. Finally I give up. I can sense something different and my curiosity leads me to figure out what has changed. We have definitely begun to descend as the engine is not straining the same way it was for the first two hours of the journey. I open my eyes but everything is dark. My hat is still pulled down over my eyes. As I roll the soft edge of my hat back I find it is still night time but light is beginning to appear in the sky. Everything is white. There is a thick blanket of snow covering everything that surrounds me. Suddenly I realize how dangerous this is, driving in a small bus over a mountain in the snow and I sit up in my seat to take a closer look.

I had crossed the highest and the third highest mountain passes that were just down the road from where we were now and neither looked like this. One had bits of snow here and there and was tucked in between a few glaciers while the other was engulfed in a blizzard while I was there causing me to nearly freeze to death on the motorcycle I was riding. Seeing as how I was trapped in that snow storm just a few hours back, that is most likely the same snow storm that caused all the snow to cover the ground here. As I look out the window and observe the skills of the bus driver, I begin to relax as there are tire tracks embedded in the road from other vehicles that have passed before us. We are driving slow and the road doesn't seem to be covered in ice so I begin to relax.

The sun never rises but the sky begins to lighten. We take a break by stopping the vehicle in the middle of the snow on this one lane winding mountain road. I am grateful as I have been staring out the window at one of the most photographic opportunities I have ever seen. There are snow covered mountains everywhere and down the valley in the direction we are heading, you can see the snow line on a mountain with the blackness of the unlit portion of it's base supporting a graceful transition to the snow covered top. There is enough light to see everything clearly and the cloudy sky is lit by the early morning light. I jump out of the bus and take one of my favorite photos from my entire trip. Even though I am nervous about the twenty hour bus drive I have ahead of me, it looks like the endless scenery provided by the Himalayas is going to make up for the difficulty of the journey.

We transition from snow back down into a valley where the stark desert scenery of the Northern Himalayas returns. The road winds back and forth for hours at a time and actual sections of pavement are rare. We cross streams, mud, fields of boulders and road construction sites yet we do not break down. Not only can I not believe the condition of the roads but I can't believe that this is the most popular journey to do by motorcycle in the area. It takes three to four bone crushing days to make the journey on motorcycle and I had actually considered doing it. After learning that the cost to rent one for the journey was almost the same as buying a bike, I thankfully elected to travel by bus. There isn't much for roads here and we are averaging about twenty kilometers an hour. I don't sleep for the entire journey as the road is so rocky and bumpy that my whole body is being tossed around in my seat. Thank God I am not on a motorcycle!

The day winds on and the scenery continues to be as incredible as ever. I can't even believe the things I am seeing out of my window. How can there be so many enormous mountains and endless valleys with no one living in them and it not be named some sort of National Park. This is one of the most beautiful landscapes I have ever seen and could possibly exist in the world and yet so few people outside of India even know about it. I think about how lucky I am to be here, smile and open my window fighting the bitter cold wind every chance I get trying to take just one photograph that will come close to telling the story of the epic journey I am making on the highway from Leh to Manali.

We are getting closer to Manali, I can feel it. The desert environment is gone and grass and trees are beginning to cover the hillside. There is a small river flowing through the valley we are in now and the air isn't as cold or dry anymore. I can't imagine that we have any more mountain passes to cross before I arrive and then I realize I am wrong. We begin going up the hill on a rocky and muddy stretch of road. The bus continues to climb and I continue to hang my head out the window to photograph the snowy peaks that the clouds are slowly exposing on the opposite side of the valley. Up and up we continue to climb and I can't see the top of the mountain, only the craziness of the winding road that lurks beneath us. Some parts of the road are washed out by the streams that flow over them and there is barely enough room for our bus to cross over yet we continue to press on. Our climb continues toward yet another pass. Two hours after we begin our ascent from the valley floor, the road levels out and we accelerate up to at least forty kilometers an hour. This lasts for about four minutes before we get to the other side of the ridge and I look down to see an endless snake of road ahead coiling around itself trying to keep it's grip on the near vertical cliffs that tumble far down below to Manali.

This seems to be the worst stretch of road yet and to make matters worse, there is an endless stream of trucks, buses and jeeps making their way up the hill. Uphill traffic has the right away on this single lane mountain road and we are continually tucking onto the edge of the cliff with the wheels nearly falling off the side to let the traffic pass. We are traveling slow, as slow as we have been traveling for the entire journey. I can see Manali up ahead and the last sign I saw put us only thirty five kilometers away. It is now dark again and our headlight barely light up the road ahead. Fortunately the lights of the endless stream of vehicles ahead continues to light the way for us. Down we continue for another two hours. Again I am looking at the road and feeling every bump and the bus slip and slide through the mud and wondering why anyone would want to make this journey on a motorcycle which is made to travel on smooth pavement.

Buildings begin to appear on the sides of the road and I can tell we are close. The last sign I saw put us just a five kilometers away from Manali. The journey is almost over and while I am happy that it is nearly over, I am sad that it is ending. It has been one of the most amazing trips I have taken, crossing the Himalayan mountain range on a slow bus over some of the worst roads I have ever seen. I am tired and stiff from the journey. It is nearly nine o' clock at night and I have not had dinner. A warm meal before crawling into my sleeping bag is the only plans I retain for the evening followed by a deep deep sleep. I am here, I am in Manali.

Blizzard Conditions on motorcycle!

2008-09-05T07:30:00.003-06:00

I have my permits in hand to visit Pangong Lake which straddles the border of Tibet and Kashmir and with a solid motorcycle I am heading up the third highest road in the world. It is a bit cold but I am riding in the sunshine. There are clouds in all directions hovering on the mountains and I can see the precipitation coming down in different areas. Somehow, the weather is holding out for me other than the occasional sprinkle. Up the mountain I continue enjoying the views along the way.

Finally I reach the top and take a couple of pictures. There is a military base that provides free tea and coffee to warm up the weary travelers that make the journey over the pass to Pangong Lake. I take in the views while I sip my coffee. Everything is incredible except for the threatening clouds that loom on the horizon and mountain tops. I thank the army official for the coffee, kick start my motorcycle and begin the bumpy journey down.

The views and the road continue to become even more amazing. I am weaving through a narrow canyon where boulders the size of homes have fallen by the road side. As I exit the canyon, I am in a steep valley riding alongside a small stream on a fairly decent road. I must be close to the lake. There are creeks crossing the road which come up out of nowhere causing me to have to slow down rapidly but the brakes are good on my bike and there are no problems at all. I round another corner and get my first view of the lake. Though it is cloudy, I can see the rich color of the water and the mountains that surround it. I can't wait to explore!

The road disappears into a rocky off road vehicle path. I begin to wonder where in the hell I am and start to wish that there was someone else in the area. It is just me and the rocky road ahead. I cross a small river on the motorcycle and somehow avoid falling over into the freezing cold water. My spark plugs get water on them from the river and my bike won't make it up the hill. I am pushing the bike and running the engine at the same time trying to get it going again. What if it is broken and I am stuck here in the middle of nowhere? What the hell am I doing here anyway?

The bike begins to work again but the road continues to deteriorate and I even consider turning around. A bit of pavement appears but only briefly and I realize that this must actually lead to the lake. Another few turns and there it is! The end of an incredible mountain lake sitting at 4500 meters in the heart of the Himalayan mountains! The colors are stunning and the mountains that surround it are absolutely beautiful. I can't believe how wonderful this place is, more than worth the six hour ride over the mountain.

At sunset, the clouds briefly break giving me the opportunity to snap a few good photos in the cold evening light. It is not just cold but freezing. I ask a man running a camp nearby how cold it will get tonight and he says -7 (Celcius). Brrr! It is going to be a cold night in the tent! I eat a dinner consisting of several packs of instant noodles and a chocolate bar. It is still early so wrapped up in my sleeping bag I spend an hour or so reading before falling asleep. The rain begins. I don't know how long I have been sleeping but I think it is a good thing that it is raining now rather than tomorrow. Maybe all the clouds will be gone when I awake. I fall asleep again but the rain and wind continues to wake me up throughout the night.

It is morning and I don't hear rain. I feel the sunrise coming through the tent so I put on some warm clothes and crawl out of my tent. Outside I find a sliver a sunshine has penetrated the cloud cover. The light shines in my face blocking out the views of the lake. It is cold and the weather looks much worse than the day before. It begins to sprinkle and snow at the same time. I take shelter in a nearby parachute tent where I find some coffee. The rain and snow picks up and continues for several hours. There is nothing more to do than try and stay warm by holding a cup of coffee so I drink four cups of coffee this morning. Every time the rain and snow eases, I step outside only to see more coming our way, straight out of the valley from which I came and which I will need to leave by in a few hours if I want to make the bus I have already paid for that is leaving tonight.

A break in the weather finally appears and I spend a half hour struggling with my cold motorcycle engine trying to get it started. Finally the choke begins to work and the carburetor warms up a bit and the engine starts. I let the bike run and my weather window continues to look wonderful. The valley I am heading up has a small window of blue sky above even though there is a thick layer of clouds covering the mountains not far over head. I can see the snow coming down on the mountains but this is my only chance so I take it.

I pass over the obstacles I crossed the day before without any problems and the weather continues to hold out on me. Occasionally it rains a bit but quickly stops not causing any problems for my drive. I begin to make my way up the mountain back towards the pass I must cross to return to Leh. It keeps getting colder and there is no sign of blue in the sky anymore. The clouds are looming just above and I can see the snow covering all of the mountains hovering just below the clouds. I continue on up the mountain.

Oh my God I am freezing! I can't believe the situation I have gotten myself into this time! I am on a motorcycle, it is snowing as hard as I have ever seen and I can't see but a few feet in front of me. The snow hitting me in the eyes hurts and is making it difficult to even keep my eyes open. My face is frozen to the point that when I touch it I can't even feel my hand rubbing upon it. There isn't much left of the road anymore, just a series of puddles and rocks. I can't turn back because the weather is now just as bad where I came from and I have to catch a bus tonight. I press on in the freezing cold wondering where the mountain pass is and hoping that I arrive at the top where I know there is a warm drink and some shelter waiting.

Where is that damn pass! I don't know how much more of this I can take. Should I stop and wait? Will this end in an hour? A day? A week? There is no choice, I must keep going. I have to be close, I can feel it. The snow is easing just enough that I can now see a little further. It must be near. I see something, a building maybe? No, it is an army truck. It passes me along with several others. There are more but they aren't moving. The road is now flat, a few small buildings appear! I am there, I am at the top! I am alive and not yet frozen. I quickly park my motorcycle and with my entire body trembling, I make my way into the small shack to warm up. The coffee is warm and sweet and warms my entire body with each sip I take. The blood is beginning to flow again to my extremities and the I am beginning to feel my face again. I am not going to die, I am not going to freeze to death.

Back outside, the weather is clear now. Was it like that when I arrive? I didn't notice but I can feel a bit of sun upon my face. I easily kick start my motorcycle and begin the rugged journey down expecting to have good weather for a while. Five minutes later, it is snowing again and I can't see anything. The remnants of the cliff side road are shaking every bone in my body though I can't see how much further down I must go to get out of the snow. I am shaking again but there is no option now, the only way to warm up and get out of the snow is to continue on down.

Down I continue fighting the snow traveling as slow as possible without falling off the motorcycle. An hour passes and the fog thins. It is still snowing but I can see smooth sections of road down below and the snow line on the mountain is now almost parallel with my position. The snow is breaking. My entire body is covered in ice but now I can see! There is no pain in my eyes from the snow and ice crystals hitting me while I try to see the way ahead. I am alive and have survived! It has been the most intense motorcycle ride I have ever taken and I am happy to be alive. To have ridden through a blizzard in the Himalayas is an amazing event. It is a perfect example of a trip where it wasn't so much about the destination as it was about the journey. Though I am still cold and covered in ice I am smiling and happy. I have completed an amazing ride facing difficult obstacles and persevered through the face of adversity. It is an incredible feeling that is not easily obtained and I have a story I can tell for all the years to come. I would do it all again without a doubt.

Ascending Stok Kangri

2008-09-05T07:25:00.001-06:00

Having finally recovered from the atrocious stomach virus I have been battling, I decided I was feeling strong enough to set off with an American friend named Rick to climb a nearby peak, Stok Kangri. Stok Kangri is a beautiful site to see from the town of Leh. Amongst the snow covered peaks of the Himalayas, it's steep snow covered summit protrudes up higher than all the others visible in the area, all the way up to 6,130 meters or over 20,000 feet! Rick had been doing some trekking in the area and I had spent a few afternoons doing some short treks up to about 4300 meters so I thought the task at hand would be difficult but surely not impossible.

After spending a day in Leh organizing permits, renting crampons and ice axes along with figuring out what kind of food we could take along for the journey, Rick and I boarded an early morning bus across the valley to the village of Stok where the mountain ascent would begin. The bus ride in itself was a cultural experience filled with local minority culture farmers, traditionally dressed, turban bearing Indians, children on their way to school and a few Buddhist monks heading to the monastery that stands guard over the small village of Stok. At the end of the line on the bus stop, Rick and I climbed up onto the roof of the bus to retrieve our backpacks which would provide us with all our food, shelter and clothing for the journey up the mountain. No porters or mules for us, we were going to be self sufficient!

Now, I should mention that this trek is typically done in four to five days. We were accounting for this same time period for our trek when we rented some of the gear we would be taking as well as when we purchased all our food for the trip. Rick had even made the comment to someone who asked what all we were taking, “We aren't going to go hungry, that is for sure!” For now, let's just say that Rick and I decided to do things a bit differently than you typically would.

The first half of our first days trek up the mountain went quite well. The path followed a small river through steep and jagged canyon lands. At times, the trail crossed the river so we had to gently hop across small stones to follow along. The weather was beautiful and the altitude hadn't started to affect either of us. Our only breaks were for food and to take the strain of the heavy packs we were carrying off of our shoulders. We were making great progress and began to discuss our options where to camp that night.

Typically, you would camp about half way up to base camp on the first day at an altitude of around 4300 meters. We had already passed that point and feeling that we were both pretty acclimatized, we decided to go ahead and make the trek all the way up to base camp (4900 meters) on that first day. After a lunch of tuna fish sandwiches, we headed on up the hill towards base camp. The trail became steeper and the altitude began to affect us both. It was slow going with lots of stops for rest but we pressed on and eventually we could see the snowy summit, the tip of the glacier we would need to cross and the prayer flags flying in the wind at base camp. Step by step, base camp became closer and after a hard day of trekking, we finally arrived.

While you are supposed to spend a night at base camp acclimatizing, followed by a day of rest before departing for the summit at 1:00 in the morning, Rick and I decided that we should just eat a big dinner, get some sleep and press on to the summit that night. I wasn't feeling 100% but I thought it sounded like a good idea. We ate a big dinner and realized that throughout the day we had eaten nearly all the food we brought along and decided our decision to climb that night made plenty of sense.

At 8:00 we wrapped up in our little tent wearing plenty of warm clothing and kept the zippers tight on our sleeping bags. I don't think either of us slept much as I only recall the sound of Rick trying to breathe in the thin air and rolling around all night. One o' clock a.m. finally rolled around and we gathered up a few things in the dark freezing cold night, put on our headlamps and set off for the final push up up to the summit.

The first part of this leg of our trip led us straight up to a ridge. In the first half hour of our slow paced trudging up the mountain we ascended 300 meters putting us just 900 meters from the top! Rick said he felt like he was going to throw up but other than feeling a bit short of breath, I was feeling pretty good. We continued on our way and as Rick began to feel better, I started to feel worse. The higher we climbed, it was like someone was putting rocks in my boots, my pockets and my backpack. Our pace became slower but we expected this delay and we pressed on. With just a crescent moon and the light of our headlamps lighting up the landscape before us, the reflections of the snow stood out from the rocky landscape guiding us to where we needed to be. We had made it to the glacier that we would eventually need to cross and the sounds that it made were quite eerie to hear in the middle of the night. Knowing the dangers of crevasses and wash outs I have to admit that the sounds being emitted from the glacier in the darkness began to intimidate me and made me second guess what the hell I was doing here in the middle of the night trying to climb a mountain.

As we followed alongside the glacier, the creaking and popping became louder and sometimes was loud enough to make you jump. We put our first footsteps on the crunchy snow that covered the glacier and slowly made our way across. Along the way we came across several large crevasses and small streams that were slowly eating their way through the glacier. We walked up and down the obstacles that were blocking our path and managed to find places where we could leap across. It took about an hour but we finally made it safely across the glacier to the scree covered slope up to the final mountain ridge.

At this point, I was definitely feeling short of breath and trying everything I could to control my heart rate when I walked but it seemed that with every few steps, my heart would accelerate to the speed of a heart attack! This is pretty typical for extreme physical activity but the idea is that you simply slow down and keep the pace just under the red zone. No matter what I did, I couldn't go slow enough. Every step made my heart pound continuously and I would have to rest for a minute or two until things slowed down. Rick was cold and didn't want to stop moving so he pressed on ahead as he was now feeling much better than I was. I continued up the mountain towards the final ridge at my slow pace, resting continuously and starting to feel like I was going to eventually have to turn back.

Rick was now a good ways ahead of me and rightfully so having a good bit of mountaineering experience and being much more acclimated from his treks in Leh while I was trying to recover from my stomach virus. I knew I would not see him again until we either crossed paths on his way down and my way up or back at base camp.

I went to take a sip of my water that I had been carrying and found it to be frozen. Just a half hour before however, I had filled up an extra water bottle on the glacier but I quickly discovered that it too had frozen. The lack of water stressed me out a bit but looking up towards the ridge I needed to get to that was now so close at hand, I knew that I had to try to keep moving. I continued the steep climb resting continuously with my heart still racing and I knew there was going to be no way I could make it to the top. I should have spent that day at base camp to acclimatize and not made the assumption that I could make it to the top without that stop! At about 5700 meters, just 400 meters from the summit, I sat down for a break to control my heart rate and decided it was time to turn back. I was cold, I had no water and I felt as if I would throw up the snickers bar I had recently eaten.

It took me a half hour of resting before I felt good enough to descend to base camp. I slowly made my way down the mountain, back across the glacier and down the final hill to our tent. By now, I felt horrible. My head hurt, I was nauseated, dehydrated and tired. Inside my tent, I found a bottle of water that wasn't completely frozen and took a big gulp before lying down in the early morning sunlight for a rest.

Rick returned around ten o' clock in the morning having made it to the summit but not feeling so great himself. He followed in my footsteps and climbed into the tent for some much needed rest. A few hours later, we both awoke, not feeling anywhere near 100% but we knew we did not want to spend another night sleeping at 4900 meters. We packed up our gear and ate a small bit of food as we had now consumed almost all of the food we brought along for the journey. As we made our way down, the headaches began to disappear and though neither of us really felt like eating much, we forced the last of our food down for lunch. The food made all the difference in the world and at that point we were feeling up to making the journey all the way back to town.

The rest of our trip down the mountain turned into a hell of an adventure on it's own. The river had risen and crossing became difficult including a solid hour where Rick and I managed to get ourselves stranded high up on a cliff side trying to find a way around the river. We were at the point where we were going to pitch our packs down in order to allow us to make the climb down when we managed to figure out a reasonable way to down climb the steep cliff we had ascended carrying all of our gear.

Less than 36 hours after we began our four or five day journey, we were back in town. We both felt better and after a hot shower, we headed out for a much needed recovery dinner. Though I didn't make it to the summit, I thoroughly enjoyed the adventure both up and down and saw some of the most striking scenery imaginable along with a sunrise that lit up the mountains like fire. Even though I was too weak to even take a photo of it, the memory of that sunrise will last me a lifetime. 5700 meters was the highest point I had ever made it to in my life and considering how sick I had been before hand, I felt pretty good about making it that far. I am going to be in the Himalayas for at least another two and a half months and with plenty of 6000 meter peaks in the area, I should have the opportunity to climb yet another!

The highest road in the world!

2008-08-29T03:23:00.003-06:00

Even thought I was still not felling well, I decided that I had enough strength in me for a motorcycle ride. Nearby to Leh, the town I have been staying in is a road that travels over the highest motorable pass in the world. On the other side of the pass lies the Nubra valley which stradles the border between India, Tibet and Pakistan.

Years ago, I read a magazine article about someone making this same journey and I couldn't resist the opportunity with it being so close at hand. The journey began by renting a Royal Enfield, a classic British designed motorcycle that is the bike of choice throughout India. The bike wasn't running so great and to complicate the journey even further, the gears and the brakes were on the wrong sides. While this added a bit of difficulty to the trip, I decided it would be easily overcome along the way with a bit of practice.

As you can imagine,k it was a bumpy and curvy cliff side road all the way up to the top. The backwards controls on the bike were manageable but it seemed that every time I wanted to hit the brakes in a hurry, I wound up slamming my foot down on the gear shift instead! Keeping that in mind, I drove relatively slow the whole way and kept a close eye out for any oncoming traffic that seemed to always come whipping around one of the corners when you least expected it.

After two full hours and only traveling about 60 kilometers, I finally made it to the tip of the pass! 5600 meters or just over 18,000 feet and freezing cold except for the warmth provided by the noon day sun. The views from the pass were absolutely stunning! Looking South you could look down the valley between snow covered mountains and glaciers and see an endless chain of the Himalayas stretching from the East to West. To the North, the road tumbled down towards the Nubra Valley where any further progress was blocked by the Karakorn range in Pakistan.

It took another bumpy four hours to make it to the town of Diskit where I would be spending the night. While the permit I obtained to visit the area allowed me to go a bit further North, the drive on a rickety 350cc motorcycle had taken it's toll on me and I was ready to relax. I spent the afternoon reading beneath the massive granite mountains that surrounded my guesthouse and after an early dinner, fell soundly asleep. The next morning, I awoke to beautiful blue skies and spent some time exploring a local Gompa as well as the incredible views of the immense valley I was in. It was incredbile to see the dry rocky mountains soaring as much as 9000 feet above me. I can't even desribe the scale of how it felt to be there! Mountains everywhere you looked as far as your head could tilt back.

I slowly began my journey back over the pass toward Leh. The ride back turned out to be a bit more eventful than on the way over. I spent a good deal of time trapped in the middle of a military convoy of massive trucks. The convoy finally came to a stop in order to take a look at a car which had recently tubmeled over the edge of the mountian killing the 3 occupants inside. Appareantly, this sort of thing is a pretty regular occurence here as people tend to drive extremely fast down this treacherous road.

Getting closer to the pass it started to look like it was going to rain. I was wrong however, it decided to hail upon me instead! The hail didn't last long as it quickly turned into snow. Crossing the pass, the snow continued to fall and I have to say that I actually had a smile on my face to see snow falling in the middle of August! The snow gradually ended and I slowly rolled down the opposite side of the mountain back toward Leh. Happy to still be alive after surviving a journey over the world's highest road, I arrived at my guesthouse where I hoped for a hot shower to be waiting but instead settled for one that was quite luke warm. Having not bathed in three days, it sufficed to do the job and I followed it up with a banana shake and an enormous meal before wrapping myself up in my sleeping bag to avoid the cold cold night.

Still sick in the Himalayas

2008-08-20T21:55:00.001-06:00

I haven't yet had the opportunity to do much exploring here yet as my stomach is still in the worst condition of my life. A quick visit to the hospital yesterday left me taking more pills than a 110 year old man. That's ok though as I finally ate my first full meal in 3 days last night and I am feeling a lot better as of today.

Welcome to the Himalayas!

2008-08-18T21:45:00.000-06:00

I awoke at 2:30 this morning to catch a 5:00 a.m. flight from Delhi to Leh. Still felling quite ill, it took a good bit of effort to actually get on board the plane. Fortunately, the flight was just over an hour long and the views from the window were incredible! Snow covered mountains and glaciers extended as far as the eye could see! For about half the flight, we were barely hovering over the towering peaks of the Himalayan range, the rooftop of the world!

Coming in to land was probably the most fantastic airplane journey I have ever taken. The plane wound it's way in and around the mountains so it felt as if we were flying through a series of giant canyons. As we made turns barely missing the lower mountain tops you could look out the window and see ridge lines still soaring high above.

We touched down in Leh, elevation 11,000 feet and were greeted with mountain views and rich blue skies. It was quite a change from the polluted and overcast weather in Delhi. It looks like it is going to be an incredible place to explore and I can't wait to get started. I only hope this damn stomach problem doesn't hinder me along the way!

Trying to avoid the monsoon season

2008-08-17T21:41:00.000-06:00

A couple of days in Delhi (officially the dirtiest place I have ever visited) was more than enough for me. It is the monsoon season right now and the sky stays gray with a couple of heavy downpours each day. While the Taj Mahal is high on my list of things to see in India, I decided to wait until the remain and clouds are gone in just a few weeks time. In the meantime I decided to head up into the heart of the Himalayas that fortunately lies in the shadow of the monsoons.

I was originally going to fly to a city called Leh today but fortunately the flight was cancelled and changed till tomorrow. I say fortunately because I have come down with the worst imaginable Indian Stomach sickness that ever existed! Seeing as how I only left my hotel room to get water and a bowl of cornflakes today, there is no way I would have ever made that flight!

When not to arrive in India!

2008-08-15T21:39:00.000-06:00

When the plane touched down in New Delhi, it was 9:15 at night but for me, with the time change, it was actually 11:45 at night. It took a while for the bags to come out and I could see that the airport was pretty chaotic. I wasn't sure if it was because the following day was India's independence day or if it was just the nature of being in Delhi. My bag finally showed up and I tracked down a British girl whom I had spoken to in the Hong Kong airport so that we could split a cab into town. Normally, I would take a bus but the cabs here were only about six dollars so being as how it was so late at night, I really didn't want there to be any hassles so I could find a room and fall asleep.

There were several taxi stands at the airport and all were pure chaos of Indian men and women pushing their way to the front of the window. After attempting to join several different hordes of people and making no progress what so ever, I decided to try a different approach. Inside customs, I had seen a pre paid taxi stand similar to the ones that people outside the airport were fighting for but there was no one there. With a little careful planning, I managed to slip through a few security checks and make it back to the taxi stand. There weren't that many people there and at least none of them were pushing and shoving. I stood in line for a minute and quickly realized that no one was moving. I asked someone in line what was going on and they informed me that there were no more taxis. I didn't understand, how could a city with 13 million people run out of taxis? It didn't make much since so the British girl and I decided we would brave the crowded bus into town.

We found the bus stand immediately and saw people loading onto a bus that we assumed must be the correct one to our part of the city. Outside there were at least a thousand people waiting with the most enormous collection of baggage you have ever seen. While people shoved their way into the back door and we debated what to do, I grabbed the British girls arm and dragger her on the front of the bus where we found just enough room to stand. For some reason, no one else followed us on and the over crowded bus closed it's doors and we slowly began to pull away from the airport. Happy to be moving now as it was already 10:45 and I was beginning to feel tired so I didn't mind be crammed amongst a ridiculous number of people standing in the aisle of a hot and sweaty bus.

Traffic was really bad and I didn't think much of it at first but as our journey slowly inched away from the airport, I began to realize it could turn into a miserable ride. Cars, trucks, buses, and motorcycles filled up every inch of the road. We would stop in one place for a solid ten minutes before creeping forward a few feet only to stop and wait again. An hour and a half into the ride, sweating profusely and extremely tired, I began to see signs for the domestic terminal that would be coming up in three km. It was only Eight km away in the first place! The comedy of the situation at that point was somewhat entertaining but I new as the night wore on and I became more and more tired, my attitude would take a turn for the worse.

As miserable as myself and my British friend were, the people on the bus were so kind and friendly. Everyone was offering to make room in their seats for us and some people who had bottles of water kindly offered us sips. We talked amongst those who could speak English about the different aspects of life in New Delhi and the different parts of their history that would help us to understand their culture. It was an incredible experience so different from how I would have felt in a similar situation back home and I knew that I was really going to enjoy my trip to India!

At 1:30 in the morning, we were still on the bus creeping along in a mass chaos of traffic. The people on the bus explained that it had to do with the fact that it had rained heavily that day and there were extreme security checks along the way because it was their independence day in the morning. It was hard to believe that was the cause of all of this traffic in the middle of the night but thus far having seen no signs of accidents or anything, I was beginning to believe it.
Around 2:00, the traffic finally broke apart as we passed a check point with literally thousands of people standing on the road side. Five hours now after I landed, I finally arrived at the guest house I would be staying at for the next few days. It was 2:30 a.m. And I felt horrible. I wanted nothing more than to lie down in a bed no matter how clean it actually turned out to be and get some sleep. It was a difficult beginning for my trip to India but at the same time it was exactly what I expected. Irritating yet exciting, it was the essence of what you can expect from traveling in a country like India. I can't wait to get started!

Off to India!

2008-08-13T18:32:00.001-06:00

Well, it has been a long trip to Hong Kong and I am glad to be leaving and moving on with my life. Things went really bad with Allison and I had a tough time dealing with the circumstances that it caused. It definitely wasn't anything to enhance my trip to Hong Kong but I did manage to spend plenty of time walking around the streets to discover that most of what Hong Kong has to offer is shopping. I have never seen an entire city that is so geared for just shopping! On top of that, it is really really expensive here. I mean, the people here must make a ridiculous amount of money just to survive.

Mixed in with wandering the streets, I managed to get out to a few of the sights around town. The skyline of Hong Kong at night is a pretty amazing site. The only place I think I have ever seen more electricity being used was the opening ceremony for the Olympics. A couple of days ago, I made my way over to Macau. It is a Portuguese settlement about 65km away by ferry. Macau was an interesting mix of old Colonial buildings interspersed between enormous casinos. Sky scrapers are going up everywhere yet there are plenty of pockets that still maintain a bit of old world charm. It also feels a bit more tame than the chaos that surrounds you at every moment in Hong Kong so it was nice to have a bit more relaxing pace to my day.

Yesterday, I finally managed to get my Indian Visa in hand, the only thing that has been keeping me in Hong Kong. I am flying to Delhi this afternoon, a city that is know for a mix of damn near everything. I am not a city person and only plan on spending a couple of days there before venturing out. The Taj Mahal is needless to say a big priority for me so I will most likely end up there not long after I arrive and then it is off to the Himalayas! I can't wait to get up there! The photos I have seen look amazing and I hope to spend plenty of time trekking, mountain climbing and riding motorcycles along the highest road in the world! It should be an amazing time and I can't wait to get started!

The difficulty of being in Hong Kong

2008-08-06T17:57:00.000-06:00

Well, here I am in Hong Kong. I flew in from Mongolia last night, met up with Allison for a bit and am now I am sitting at a starbucks, waiting out a typhoon that has the city in total lock down. Strange however that the starbucks is open? The worst part of the situation is that I have finally made it to Hong Kong where I get to spend the last bit of time I can with Allison, she even has the day off work because of the storm and there is no way to get to see each other today. I think I enjoy the hurricane parties that we throw in the dark back home a lot better than this sitting around watching the wind blow and the rain fall with nothing to occupy your time.

Hong Kong is going to be the most difficult part of my trip so far. I am saying goodbye to Allison and don't know when if ever I will see her again. After entertaining the idea of a long distance relationship while she is back in Canada and I am trekking through Nepal, we have decided that it is not in either of our best interests to even attempt it. As difficult as it is going to be, I am going to try and not let it get me down while I am here and enjoy the last few days we will have together. She has been an incredible addition to my travels and my time with her has meant more to me than any other aspect of this trip. Though she is so different from anyone I have dated before, I found myself in love with her never wanting to let her go. If she would only ask, I would stop this trip tomorrow and take my life to her to further discover the reality of where our feelings could lead. I am heart broken, sad and at the same time happy to have found someone I can care about so deeply.

The Trans Mongolian Railway

2008-07-06T05:32:00.000-06:00

Words cannot describe the landscape that is passing by my window right now. A poet could do this a lot more justice than I but I will try and make an attempt. It's ten o'clock in the morning and I boarded the train 27 hours ago. I am bound for the capital city of Mongolia, Ulannbaatar. The sights from the train have been some of the most amazing that I have seen on my trip so far. We departed smoggy Beijing and four or five hours later on an overcast and gloomy day, the horizon began to show it's face. Even thought the clouds were covering the blue skies, the sight of the horizon after being in Beijing was a welcome and refreshing site, restoring my mental state back to the happy nature that it usually is in when I travel to unique and beautiful places.

The sky gradually began to clear and the landscape turned to rolling hills that eventually dissipated into flat plains extending as far as you could see. With the sun setting last night, I thought we must be passing through the most beautiful part of the journey. I was wrong. I awoke this morning in the middle of the Gobi desert. Rocky and dusty plains extending everywhere only broken up by the occasional camel wandering the harsh desert landscape in search of it's next source of fresh water. After several hours of the dusty plains of the Gobi desert, the earth began to reveal small patches of grass, usually surrounded by wild horses, camels and cows. The patches of grass became fields and the fields began to stretch out as far as your eye could see. The occasional camel was now replaced with herds of wild horses, sheep and even gazelles. With an enormous blue sky overhead extending out over a sea of green, this is one of the most beautiful places I have seen in my life.

Polluted Beijing

2008-07-06T05:31:00.000-06:00

After three days in Beijing I am ready to move on to Mongolia where I can actually see the sky and breathe the air without a burning sensation in my throat. I imagine all of the beautiful buildings and sites of Beijing would have been amazing to see on a clear day, but looking at the city I cannot comprehend that ever happens. It is the only place in the world that I have ever been where you can stare directly at the sun for a full minute and it doesn't even burn your eyes. The smog is so thick that on my way to the great wall, the bus I was on got off the interstate about an hour outside of the city and I noticed the faint outline of a mountain range nearby. Not too long after, we were right beside the mountain and it was only a couple of kilometers away. Here I had been just two or three kilometers from this enormous mountain range and could hardly even tell it was there! This smog is disgusting and it's sad to see that we are so capable of doing so much harm to the world we live in.

Trekking the Great Wall of China

2008-07-06T05:29:00.000-06:00

What an incredible day! I never could have imagined it would have turned out to be as beautiful as it did but I have to say, it was fantastic. I boarded a bus in smog filled Beijing looking up at the white sky and thick atmosphere that enveloped everything around. As the bus drove on, the smog continued and I accepted that my day on the great wall was going to be filled with the same disgusting atmosphere that I have been trapped in since leaving Western Yunann. About an hour and a half outside of Beijing, I started to notice the slightest hint of blue in the sky. I thought that my eyes must be deceiving me as I haven't been able to see the sky through all of the pollution since leaving Yunann. Gradually, the blue began to become brighter and more brilliant. Mountains started appearing in the distance and even the hint of white pillowy clouds began to show up. Two hours away now and suddenly there was a drastic change. It was like emerging from a long dark tunnel that cuts through a mountain pass. The sky was the brightest shade of blue and the hills a rich color of green. You could see for miles in every direction and that is when I got my first glimpse. The Great Wall was crawling along the ridge of a nearby mountain. Like the spines on the tail of a dragon it stretched into the distance as far as your eyes could see.
I chose to visit a couple of sections of the great wall that were a bit more remote than the main tourist destinations. They haven't been restored like most of the tourist spots and you could actually walk for about 8 miles between the two sections all on top of the wall. It sounded like a great way to experience the Great Wall and now at the end of such a wonderful day, I can say it was everything I imagined it to be and more.

As a child, I remember learning about the Great Wall of China in history class and it brought up all kinds of visions of how work on the wall was done. I pictured what it looked like and how anything like it was humanly possible. I think we tend to build up a lot of sights in the world to be something more than they actually are but the Great Wall more than exceeded my expectations. Stretching to the horizon along the ridge of the mountains and still slowly crumbling beneath my feet, it was a spectacular experience to be following in the footsteps of time and history. There were hardly any tourists where I was which made it the type of exploration you conjure up in your mind when you picture something as ancient and grand as the Great Wall. Old guard towers were still crumbling down to the rugged path on top of the wall while grass grew between the mortar and all the while the whole structure just sat clinging to the narrow ridge of the mountain where it has stood for the last thousand or so years.

A weekend in Xian with Allison

2008-07-06T05:25:00.004-06:00

There is not much more I can ask for out of a long weekend in China. Lots of good food, climbing an absolutely stunning mountain and I was able to spend four adventurous days with Allison! I can't ask for much more out of China! Well, maybe that they actually clean up some of the pollution in the air, quit spitting everywhere, be more helpful, more polite and try not to run over me every time I cross the street. We won't get into all that for the time being however.

After I picked up Allison at the airport, we dropped her bags off at the hotel and headed out on the town to find some dinner. Since she had been here before, she recommended we head into the Muslim Quarter where we could find numerous great places to eat. There are all kinds of different food vendors, stalls and restaurants lining the narrow cobbled streets of one of China's oldest Muslim populations. It was a beautiful area to walk through and the smell of all of the tasty foods filled the air. After eating a bit of “street meat” as Allison calls it, we noticed a popular restaurant that spilled out into the streets. It was filled with Chinese people sitting at tables with piles of meats and vegetables all cooking them in a dish with a couple of kinds of boiling liquid. It looked familiar to Allison from her previous trip to Xian a couple of years ago and to me any place where you cook lots of meat in a big pot at your table is always a good pick.

Dinner turned out to be pretty good and a great time as well. We cooked all kinds of things in the pot and but seeing as how we were in the Muslim District, there was no alcohol to be consumed. A few bottles of sprite and a fanta for Allison was all that we could find. With our stomachs swelling, we asked for the bill. Fortunately, the Muslim owners of this place spoke good English so there shouldn't be too many questions about it. The bill came and I glanced at it and thought there must be some mistake. It looked like it said 295 RMB which is about $45. This is crazy for China. I mean, I haven't asked the price on any food I have eaten here and I have never had a meal that cost me more than 40 RMB. That too would have been an expensive one. Normally, 20 to 30 is a safe number including a beer or drink of some sort. I asked the owner about the bill and he pointed at the table and said it was correct. It was so obscene that I was in shock. I couldn't even begin to argue with him. I think if it had been less I would have most likely put up a fight but being so high, I just laughed and gave him the money. This simple meal which is similar to food I have had so many times in China costs me almost as much as the room in the four star hotel! I have been scammed! After three weeks in China of never asking the cost of food, I am officially changing my policy! I refuse to believe that all of the Chinese people in that restaurant were paying the same for their food. With prices ten times higher than everywhere else in town, I refuse to believe this place could still be in business.

After a leisurely morning and an enormous breakfast in Xian, Allison and I hopped on a bus and headed out to Hua Shan. I have wanted to climb this mountain for the past eight years or so. In fact the day I met Allison in the Hanoi airport, she mentioned that she had been to China before and I was anxious to find out more about the mountain. She hadn't been there but was definitely intrigued about it from my descriptions. If she ever made it back to Xian, she would definitely climb it. Who would have ever guessed that sitting there in the airport talking to her about the mountain the two of us would be climbing it together a couple of months later!

I mentioned wanting to climb this mountain for the last eight years. I am sure that everyone reading this at some point in time has gotten an email showing the ridiculous photographs of the journey up this mountain. In fact, I received the email again just a few days after climbing the mountain. It starts with something showing a ridiculously long cable car ride followed by a climb up steep granite slopes and ridges, some planks and chains hanging off the mountain thousands of feet in the air and concludes with a small tea house on the mountain top. While the email shows a lot of the mountain, I have to say, it makes things out to be a bit more difficult than it actually turned out to be. It was however one of the most incredible sights I have ever seen!

It was a strenuous climb to the top with a multitude of vertical stairs cut into the rock with only a chain to hold onto but we managed to survive the journey. Sheer granite cliffs lurked around every corner and the higher we climbed, the more incredible the views became. Allison held up pretty well on the journey up. No complaining and she kept up a pretty good pace as well. What more can you ask for? I think I will have to keep her around for a bit longer. Every day that we are together, she surprises me again at how great we travel together! Someone needs to convince this girl to take some time off law school! Well, no, lawyers make lots of money don't they? Someone is going to have to support me when I run out of money!

We spent the night on the mountain and were forced awake for sunrise by the yelling Chinese tourists that were also staying in the guest house on top of the mountain with us. While the sunrise was quite uneventful, sipping coffee in the cold breeze with Allison while the first light of the day appeared was something I will remember for the rest of time. Moments like that are so much better when there is someone around who you care about. I would have enjoyed it alone but with Allison there, it was a truly unforgettable experience. I wish I could keep her around for the rest of my journey.

With our mountain climbing experience behind us, we headed back into Xian for an afternoon of recovery for our now very soar legs. I had investigated some places to stay before Allison arrived and as I can't afford to continue staying in four star hotels, I found us an amazing room in an International Youth hostel right in the heart of Xian. This is one of the best rooms I have stayed in anywhere in the world. Filled with oriental character and charm, our home for the next two days would be more than adequate and definitely put our four star room a few nights before to shame. The rustic granite floors and intricate wood work stained a deep brown hue combined with the rich burgundy drapes shrouding a bed that was about 10 feet across and built into the room taking up it's entire width are just a few of the things that gave our room so much charm. On the bed was a small oriental table with a tea pot and some fancy little tea cups waiting while in the bathroom we found all the surfaces clad in a jade and black colored marble complete with a shower big enough to house a small Chinese family!

Our last two days of in Xian turned out to be pretty relaxed compared to the first two. The most difficult thing we did was a bicycle trip around the city walls of Xian that lasted just over an hour. With legs still soar from the mountain climb, that was about all we had left in us. It wasn't such a bad thing as it started raining shortly after returning the bicycles which gave us the opportunity to rest and enjoy the comfort of having such a wonderful room. Other than that, the next day and a half were filled with walks around the city and trying out the different foods that seemed to lurk around every corner. It was a perfect way to spend my short time with Allison. No pressure to see all the major tourist sights or over exert ourselves with climbing any more mountains, just time to spend together and take the opportunity to get to know each other a bit more. It turned out to be an incredible time with Allison and now I am in Beijing and she is back working in Hong Kong. While I will get to see her in a month or so back in Hong Kong, I can already tell how much I am going to miss having her around. She adds so much to my trip and when she is around it enhances every moment of the day. For now however, she is gone and I am left to make the most of this solo journey around the world that I have chosen for myself.

Waiting on Allison

2008-07-06T05:17:00.000-06:00

Just a few more hours till Allison flies in to meet me! I can't wait to see her! We had such a wonderful time in Laos and Vietnam that I wish she could come along with me for the rest of the journey. Unfortunately she is interning in Hong Kong for the summer and then heading back to Canada for two more years of law school. For now however, we have a chance to spend a weekend in Xian climbing Hua Shan, one of Buhdism's five sacred mountains in China. I spent the entire day preparing for her arrival. A good bottle of white wine (hard to find in China), some fresh fruit and a room in a four star hotel for her first night in town. It should turn out to be another wonderful weekend in China!

The disgusting habits of the Chinese

2008-06-26T22:15:00.001-06:00

I haven't talked too much about the personal hygiene habits of the Chinese people I have come across but after a few recent conversations, I feel I need to reveal the course of today's events. Keep in mind please that nothing about this is abnormal here in China in anyway. This is just how it is here. To everyone around, every bit of this is completely normal not to mention completely acceptable.

After breakfast at my guest house in Chengdu I flagged down a cab, showed him my bus ticket and we were off to the bus station. The windows were of course down as always so I was enjoying the morning air even though we were in the middle of rush hour traffic. I was excited about the journey before me as I was heading to Xian where in two days, Allison would be meeting me. As I watched the city come to life from my window, I heard the first hocking sound of the day. The cab driver gave a good snort and hock and managed to score some phlegm from deep down inside before spitting it out of the window. I don't know why this surprises me every time I hear it seeing as how, everyone here does it quite constantly. We continue our ten minute journey to the bus station and are stopped at an intersection where I glance out the window to notice a frail little Chinese man come out of a restaurant wearing an apron and stoop down by the curb. He is carrying a pan of water which he proceeds to set down at his side. It is pretty early and there is some food cooking just outside the restaurant on the sidewalk as is typical here in China. After setting the pan down, he proceeds to splash some water on his face, takes a finger and smashes one side of his nostril and proceeds to blow enough snot from his nose to fill up a small glass. From there, he moves on to the other side where he performs the same exercise and is again equally successful. The man then promptly wipes his hands on his apron to remove any excess snot, dips them into the pan of water, washes his face and repeats this same morning ritual before returning to the food he was cooking just outside of his restaurant.

Waiting on the bus, I am sitting on my backpack on the asphalt in between two buses waiting on mine to pull up. I am surrounded by the smell of diesel fumes and cigarette smoke. Along with the low pitched hum of the engines around me, I also hear the continuous hocking sound coming from the throats of so many of the men around me. Standing right next to me is a man who in the fifteen minutes I have been sitting there has created at least ten small pools of saliva and phlegm not six inches from my feet and the bag that I am sitting on. My bus arrives and I need to move over a bit to make room for it to park. I pick up my bag and stand off to the side. The bus is finally settled into it's spot, I know I will need to wait a bit so I start to set my bag down. As it touches the ground, I look down and see the spots of phlegm right next to it. Realizing my bag is probably sitting in more of the disgusting discharge, I search the ground for a cleaner spot and am unsuccessful. I will have to wear my bag until I board the bus.

When the bus originally pulled up, I thought I noticed a kind of fishy smell but I didn't think anything of it. Now, you have to keep in mind, that this is actually a really nice bus. Super fancy, toilet inside, cushy seats, give you water bottles, you name it, this bus had it. It was time to put my luggage beneath the bus and as usual, everyone shoved me out of the way to be the first to get there bag on board. Waiting in line here is unheard of. As I lifted my bag to set it beneath the bus, I realized where the source of the fish smell was coming from. Obviously this bus had either been transporting fish recently or was doing so now. There were streaks of liquid all over the bottom of the luggage compartment so I reluctantly set my bag down hoping that it would not smell like a can of tuna fish when I retrieved it in Xian.

At 9:00, the bus engine cranked up and I realized that the bus was not even half full so I moved towards the back where there was some empty seats and I could have two seats to myself for the rest of the journey. We rolled out of the bus station and the man sitting near me decided he would take advantage of the very back row which consisted of five empty seats. After changing into a pair of shorts in the wide open bus, he then took off his shirt and shoes and stretched out across the seats. I couldn't believe the guy was on this nice, VIP type bus and had his shirt off. I mean, the A/C was working quite well and I was even a bit cold but this guy was lounging around on the bus as if he were sitting by a swimming pool.

In the aisles of the bus were small cardboard boxes with plastic bags lining them that I assumed were for trash. While my assumption was correct, I realized that these boxes were also for the phlegm that everyone would be generating throughout the trip. It was like clock work. About every two minutes, another good hocking would come and someone would lean into the aisle and let the saliva and snot drip from there mouth toward the box and let it hang down until they were sure that it would not hit the floor and make it's way into the container. This would continue for the entire journey.

Now, I am not sure what it is about the culture here that makes everyone enjoy listening to everything so loud, but that is just how it is. People talking seem more like they are shouting at each other than having a conversation. It is almost like they are stuck in a cycle that they can't figure out how to get out of. Everywhere you go, there is music or television blaring so loud that you can't here yourself think. This includes on the bus. Combine that with everyone shouting in lieu of talking and it is really really loud all the time here. Do you think the people are loud because they have to talk over the tv or is the tv loud so that everyone can hear it over the loud talking? It is a difficult question to figure out. I don't really believe there is an answer to it. I feel over time, it has all just become acceptable and such a part of life here that no one questions it, excluding of course any foreigners that happen to visit the country.

The bus pulls into a typical Chinese bus stop for some lunch. It consists of a shed that they refer to as a toilet and a restaurant with a buffet set up with all kinds of strange foods. I am starving and I need to urinate before lunch. I walk to the toilet where I find exactly what I expect. A room with no walls and several slots in the floor. The floor is covered in piss and shit and the slots reveal small slides covered in shit and toilet paper that lead down to a massive pile of shit, connected on the other side by the girls slots which I can only assume to be the same. I straddle one slot while men squat down doing their business on either side of me and I attempt not to pea all over them. Staring down at the massive pile of shit and holding my breath, I am rapidly loosing my appetite.

I get into line and am handed a tray with rice and I pick a few scoops of food that looks like it won't send me back to squatting over one of the slots in the toilet with all the world to see. The only seat in the restaurant left is next to two men who were on the bus with me. I begin eating my food with my chopsticks when I look over and see the man next to me put his face directly into his rice with his chopsticks laying just beneath the surface of the rice pile as if it was gesture of courtesy to say, I am actually using my chopsticks and he begins sucking rice directly into his mouth without an attempt at moving his chopsticks. I am disgusted but at the same time, I analyzed the situation. Most of the time, you are eating out of a small bowl which you usually hold in one hand and bring it close to your mouth to avoid spilling food. It is even acceptable to put your lips on the bowl and scrape food from it into your mouth. Now, without the small bowl, the man is essentially recreating the situation in the best way he can figure out with the large tray of food in front of him. The situation only serves to reinforce my hatred of chopsticks as being an archaic way of transferring food from your dish into your mouth. Had you given the man a fork and a spoon, he could have easily eaten everything on his plate without having to stick his face directly into the pile of rice to slurp it up. Did I mention that this is also happening everywhere around the restaurant?

Let's move on now. There is plenty more I could say about the meal and the way in which everyone was eating but that would make my already long story even longer. I am feeling a bit malnourished since the only protein in the meal was tofu so I buy a couple of packages of peanuts and sit down at a now empty table and wait for the bus to depart. I find myself sitting in front of the sink that is out in the open where the dishes are washed and everyone is able to wash there hands after their meals. The floor is covered in spit, bones and bits of food in every direction. I realize I can't find a decent spot to set my small bag down that won't coat it in bodily fluids and half digested food so I set it on my lap and calmly wait.

From across the room, or actually more of a porch kind of thing that we are all eating on, a man walks over to the sink. He washes his hands, splashes some water on his face and then proceeds to put his lips around the tap and begin sucking water in so that he can spit it out into the sink. I don't mean that he is just getting water out of the tap, he physically has his lips wrapped around it to avoid getting any water on his face I guess. After a few runs, it is the next mans turn. He washes his hands and rinses his face and then proceeds to close off one side of his nose, discharge as much snot as he can get out, follows that up with the other side, washes his hands again, gives a good solid hock and spits the final bit of phlegm that he has in his system into the sink. Several other men and women in line and pretty much repeat this same process until I finally re board the bus.

Back on the bus, the journey proceeds as before, men lounging with shirts off, constant hocking and spitting sounds filling the air and the loud television blasting some Chinese comedy that everyone on the bus really seems to enjoy. It is just another day in China and observing the personal hygiene has been something that has built up over time. I haven't talked about it much as it is so overwhelming that I didn't think I could convey it in the form of a story. This isn't the half of it. Of all the places in the world I have been, I have never seen or smelled worse toilet facilities. I haver never observed such commonly accepted public body discharges of all sorts (there is still plenty that I have not mentioned) and I have never heard anyone talk as loudly as the people here do. You could easily take a trip to China, spend a bit more money and never see any of this, but throughout my travels here, it has been commonplace and something that I accept. It is ingrained into their culture and no one here seems to mind. They probably find us strange for demanding clean toilets, talking amongst ourselves in a reasonable tone, never spitting anything up in public and using strange little tissues to blow our noses.

The really big Buddha

2008-06-26T21:58:00.001-06:00

Years ago I had seen something on the discovery channel about the largest Buddha in the world. He was 240 feet tall and carved directly into the side of a cliff. Ever since then, I have wanted to see this colossus! I had no idea where it was until a week or so ago when I was flipping through a book about China and saw a photo of the Giant Buddha. I realized he was just an hour off my expected route to meet Alison in Xian so I figured it would provide me with a great opportunity to be in the presence of such an enormous statue.

I arrived at the Buddha park unsure of what the actual scale was going to be like. I had read that you could have a picnic on his foot and his toenail was longer than I am tall. When his head came into view (you approached from high up near his head) I couldn't believe what I was seeing! This sucker was friginn huge! I mean completely ridiculous scale! I have never seen such a spectacle. After climbing down the cliff side just beside the Buddha, I found myself at the base of his monstrous feet staring back up to the top. I was in awe. It took 90 years to complete but I feel they must have been working to death to do so in such a short period of time. Check out the photos when you get a chance, it's well worth the spectacle!

Climbing Emei Shan

2008-06-26T21:42:00.001-06:00

A three day climb? Hardly! Surely I can do it in two! From top to bottom, a mere 2600 meters or just over 8,600 feet. Total distance? 95Km or 57 miles. Stairs? Well, there wasn't much of anything else other than stairs. I guestimate that between the path up and the path down I easily covered 40,000 or more stairs. Emei Shan is one hell of a mountain but I conquered it without a hitch! Even after being attacked by a bunch of monkeys, I persevered on. Cold rain pouring down on my head, no problem. Electric Blankets in a monastery that provided me refuge solved that problem. It was a hell of a journey to make in two days and would probably have been easier to do in three but I feel I have made a proud accomplishment in my life. Considering I didn't have the extra day to spend on the mountain anyway since Alison is meeting me at the end of the week in Xian, the rewards will be more than worth the effort.

Tibetan Yunann

2008-06-26T19:51:00.001-06:00

After leaving Tiger Leaping Gorge, I headed further North into the Himalayas to the Tibetan township of Shang Ri La. The town was even higher up in the mountains than Lijang and the buildings here had a similar feel just on a much smaller and less commercial scale. I spent a few days exploring the mountains and valleys that surrounded the town as well as the enormous Tibetan monastery clinging to the hillside, standing guard over the city. With cool air and blue skies, it was a wonderful place to spend a couple of days exploring, relaxing and meeting other fellow travelers.

While in Shang Ri La, I managed to make a few friends who were interested in heading further North into the mountains as well. We all complied the few maps we had found and any information that we had learned about the road further North. The guide books didn't have much information on the area but we had heard rumors that there was supposed to be some incredible trekking through small Tibetan communities that were tucked away in the surrounding mountains.

Myself and five friends set out for our journey North in a small little van that we hired for the day. Although only 180 kilometers away the drive there was supposed to take 8 to 9 hours. I wasn't sure how this was possible but needless to say I soon found out. Now I have seen some pretty crazy mountain roads in New Zealand, the Andes in South America and Sumatra but nothing that compares to the drive between Shang Ri La and Dequin. Sheer drops the entire way on mostly dirt roads with landslides being cleaned up around almost every turn. Trucks passing us, us passing trucks, all the while, nothing to prevent us from sliding off the road and tumbling down thousands of feet to the Yellow River below. It was a terrifying experience that I can now say I am happy that I lived to talk about.

Nine and a half hours after we began our trip, we finally made it to the town of Feile Si where we took refuge for the night in a small hotel that fortunately provided us all with electric blankets. That seems to be the alternative to heat in this part of the world. Early the next morning, four of us set off into the mountains. After another hour and a half drive, we made it the beginning of the trail that we had be told would lead us into the heart of the massive mountain that had been looming high overhead since our arrival the previous night before. Standing at 6,700 meters, this was by far the tallest mountain I had ever seen. So tall and steep that in fact no one has ever survived a journey to it's summit. The last expedition that attempted it was in 1991 and resulted in the death of the entire party. Needless to say, a summit attempt wasn't in my plans for the journey. I was happy just to explore the area without need of risking life and limb.

Most of the first days trek was all uphill. We climbed through endless forests that revealed the enormous valley that separated us from the small town that we had slept in the night before. As we neared the pass, the trail became covered in Tibetan prayer flags and just as we crossed over the ridge, we were given our first glimpse of the mountain that we until then only knew to be looming above. Crystal clear blue skies were the backdrop for the snow and ice covered mountains. A few clouds hung just around the peaks but were moving around fast enough to provide us with incredible views of each of the mountains seven peaks. You could see the Tibetan towns that we would be sleeping in tucked away in green fields far down below. I don' think I have been to a place anywhere in the world that was more beautiful. A bold statement I know but words cannot describe the place that lay before me.

On the decent down to the town, I must have taken two hundred photographs. Each turn revealed another breathtaking view and the sky just kept getting clearer while the light kept getting softer. I was ecstatic to be there and have the opportunity to explore the lush valleys, misty waterfalls, frozen lakes, and ancient glaciers that lurked around every corner.

I spent three incredible days in the little Tibetan town that I can't seem to remember the name of now. I climbed muddy slopes in the rain, wandered around on frozen lakes, had snowball fights, warmed myself in a yak herders hut and all in all had an amazing time in the mountains. If I didn't have to meet Allison on the other side of the country in a week, I could have easily spent a month here. It seems that this is just a predecessor to what I can expect when I reach Nepal. Hopefully by then, Tibet will open as well and my journey will take me further into this area which is known as the rooftop of the world.

Tiger Leaping Gorge

2008-06-26T18:49:00.000-06:00

It only took a couple of days to realize that I didn't want to stay in Lijang for very long. While I took some great photos of a beautiful town, it is ashame that the character of what was really there is so very different from the moments in time the photos themselves captured. I decided that heading North towards the Himalayas would be the best option as there was a place called Tiger Leaping Gorge not too far away. I had been hearing about Tiger Leaping Gorge ever since I reached Asia and had even looked it up online a few times but never really saw a photo that impressed me very much. Every traveler who had been there said it was an incredible place and trekking through the gorge was an unforgettable experience. Skeptical as I always am about what to expect, I set out on a bus early in the morning on an unfortunately not so beautiful day.

After following a winding mountain road up down and all around with the headwaters of the Yangtze river always by my side, the bus dropped me off in a small town at the entrance to the gorge. Though the sky was cloudy, I did manage to get a peak down the gorge on the way into town and I have to say that it looked pretty damn impressive. It was hard to tell much about it as all the mountains disappeared into the clouds so I wasn't sure how high and how steep the sides of the Gorge actually were. It is reputed to be one of the steepest gorges in the world with the distance from mountain peaks to the Yangtze River down below being about 3,900 meters or almost 13,000 feet!

I dropped off my big backpack at a small cafe and packed a few necessities in my small pack for the trek ahead of me. While I think you could actually do the entire 30 something kilometer trek in one day, I was getting a late start and was looking forward to spending a night at one of the guest houses along the trail. The trail itself wasn't too difficult and was relatively easy to follow. It stayed high up on the hillside above the river at times with nothing more than a sheer drop to a few thousand feet below. The scenery became more and more striking every minute until I came around a turn and there it was. A view down the entire gorge revealing one of the most amazing sights I have ever seen. The sky was still gray but through the thinning misty clouds that hovered around the mountain tops I could see the jagged snow capped peaks dropping straight down to the river below. I was in awe of the sight before me on one hand while on the other I was disappointed for it to be such a sullen and gray day. It was then that I had a wonderful revelation. Today may be gray, but who knows what tomorrow or the next day would hold. I don't have anywhere to be and while most people finish the trek and take a bus from the other end of the gorge back to town I decided that I could just walk it back in reverse. Ahh! Not a bad idea!
The first days trek ended in rain as I approached the Tea Horse Guest house where I spent the evening eating wonderful local food, drinking lots of hot chocolate along with a few beers and hoping that the sky would clear for tomorrows journey down to the river. After a good nights sleep on a very uncomfortable bed, I awoke to find the skies yet again to be gray. Not surprising for this time of year but I not only had all day for the sky to clear but the next day also on the trek back to the beginning.

It didn't take long for the clouds to begin to open revealing the first patches of blue sky that would be prevalent for the next two days. As the day warmed up, the clouds gradually lifted off the mountain tops transforming what was a depressing and cloudy morning into one of the most beautiful days I have ever seen. With all the rain they get this time of year, when the clouds are gone, the skies is the deepest color of blue you can imagine. Decorated with small villages on the green hillsides, snow capped mountains, and sheer granite cliffs everywhere you looked, this was one of the most breathtaking places I have ever seen. I mentioned earlier that I have never seen a photograph of this place that ever impressed me and now I can clearly see why. No photo could ever do it justice including the hundred or so that I took while there. To capture the striking qualities of Tiger Leaping Gorge on film appears to be an impossible task. I can only hope that one of my shots will help me recall the striking character of the gorge but I think the memories I will carry with me will serve to do it much much more justice.

Old Lijang

2008-06-26T17:46:00.000-06:00

I spent a few days in the old town of Lijang which I had heard so much about. Even Allison was jealous that I was getting to go there since she missed it on her trip to China a couple of years ago. I arrived in the early morning hours before anything was open. It was nice and cool being situated between some of the smaller mountains of the Himalaya range. I spent an hour or so wandering the empty streets trying to find a place to say and managed to come across a nice hilltop spot to watch the sunrise giving excellent views of Jade Dragon Snow Mountain which standing at 5,800 meters is an impressive sentinel overlooking the small city. After sunrise, I managed to find a Tibetan cafe that served a great cup of coffee and a filling breakfast. I finished my breakfast, checked some emails and could see that the streets were starting to fill with life. It didn't take long after walking out the door of the Tibetan cafe to find a place to sleep for the night and I set out for the day to explore the rest of town.

The streets of old Lijang wander and wind amongst themselves while a series of interconnected tiny canals rush by carrying cold glacial water that has run down from Jade Dragon Snow mountain. It is a picturesque place with every building being only a couple of stories tall and constructed in the traditional wooden style of the Naxi people who are indigenous to this part of China. After enjoying my morning strolling around the city, I quickly became aware that there wasn't a real purpose to this town anymore other than it being a tourist trap. I am sure that at one time, the local people lived here and worked in various trades around this quaint little community. Now however, the town is filled with expensive restaurants and there isn't a single shop selling anything useful. All I can find anywhere are Chinese souvenirs. If anyone reading this has been to Gatlinburg Tennessee, this is the Chinese equivalent. More tastefully done by all means and lacking the heart shaped jacuzzis in every room but essentially it has the same qualities. There is absolutely nothing to see or do here that doesn't cost money. I kind of wish the early morning hours had lasted the entire day and the town hadn't had the opportunity to show it's real face.

Intitial thoughts on China

2008-06-26T17:43:00.001-06:00

My first day to enjoy China turned out to be quite pleasant. Kunming is a small city by Chinese standards with only 5 million inhabitants but it is also one of the cleanest cities in China. There is not much pollution, not much traffic and it is the most orderly location I have been in since visiting the states over the Christmas holidays. The only chaotic thing going on was setting up for the olympic torch to pass through the next day with everyone on the streets selling t-shirts and flags to all of the people who intended to line the streets watching the ceremonies.

After realizing that there wasn't a lot to see as a traveler in Kunming, I decided to hop on a night bus to Lijang. I booked the sleeping bus at the hotel and was able to choose which bed I wanted. When I arrived at the station, I began showing my ticket to people who each pointed me in the direction where I would find the bus I would be taking. Once at the door of the bus, I met a man who surprisingly spoke English and he told me he was the “boss”. He helped me put my bag beneath the bus and then said that I needed to pay a fuel surcharge to transport my luggage. He wanted me to pay about thirteen dollars which was almost the same cost as the ticket. I told him no and argued with him for a while. He then claimed that on the back of my ticket it explains that everyone has to pay for this service but it is written in Chinese so I can't understand it. After a bit more arguing, I had him down to about five dollars which was still ridiculous. He was the one who kept lowering the price with me just saying I wasn't going to pay it. At about five dollars he said that it was the last price and if I didn't like it, I could get off the bus and wait till morning for the next one. I couldn't believe this guy was scamming me and there was nothing I could do if I wanted to get on the bus.

After reluctantly paying the scam off, I boarded the bus looking for my seat that was supposed to be near the front. The “boss” immediately sent me to the back of the bus where there is two stacks of five beds all hooked together. The other beds are all individual beds and I said no that I had booked this seat near the front. The man looked at me and said “This is my bus and those seats are for Chinese. This is your spot, you don't like it, get off my bus.” I couldn't believe this! Not only am I too tall for the bed at the back, but I am also too wide. Combine that with the fact that the back is the bumpiest and loudest place on the bus and I was not happy at all. I spent the night without any sleep with the leg of one man on me as well as the arm of another. I am not happy with the way things work over here.

On another note, I find the lack of English here to be extremely difficult. On top of that, I don't find the people to be very helpful and many of them laugh at you when you are trying to figure anything out. No one puts any effort into helping you in whatever your needs are. This is such a strange feeling after being around some of the nicest and most helpful people in the world for the past few months. Combine that with the fact that I left one of the most wonderful people I have ever known back in Vietnam and I am having a rough start to my Chinese adventure. Hopefully things will get better soon!

Crossing into China

2008-06-26T17:41:00.001-06:00

It took an overnight train followed by a frustrating border crossing but I finally made it into China! After crossing the border and managing to hide my guide book which I had heard rumors of them being confiscating at this border in particular for various communistic reasons, I hopped on another bus for yet another 12 hour journey. Being that we were in China, I expected the bus ride to be across some massive highway speeding along across the country side. The reality however was much much different. We followed what seemed to be a service road that followed beneath a brand new highway. There were however no cars on the highway and no ramps to get on or off if it. I don't think it was open yet, but I can honestly say that I have never in my life seen a highway that could have cost as much as this one. We must have driven over a hundred miles on slow and bumpy roads beneath this thing all the while, it was nothing but elevated highway that was usually soaring at least a hundred feet above our heads. Chinese style highway building for sure.

The bus ride continued to be bumpy and we never managed to get on any major roads, just small worn out two lane roads through small towns. The views of the mountains and valleys we were passing through were absolutely stunning and I was ecstatic to be looking out the window for the entire day. The one thing that wasn't impressive however was the lack of food. Everywhere I have been in Asia, the buses stop a ridiculous amount of times so people can get out, use the toilet and get something to eat. Even a two hour bus ride usually included a thirty minute stop plus two toilet breaks. My 12 hour bus ride consisted of two toilet breaks that were at the worst toilets I have ever seen in my life and no food for miles in sight along with one dinner stop for 20 minutes at a small building serving noodle soup. I have to say that after not eating anything in the last 14 hours, that meal was one of the best I have ever eaten.

The bus finally arrived to my first Chinese city, Kunming. I checked into a youth hostel and fell straight to sleep although there was someone snoring as loud as I have ever heard in another bed in the room. When the sun came in through the window the next morning, I awoke and took a shower and then realized I wasn't feeling very good. It must have been a slight case of dehydration as I didn't drink much water on the train to avoid having to go to the toilet and again did the same on the bus. I realized I hadn't drank but about a liter of water in the last 24 hours where ordinarily I would have gone through four liters in that time period. With my head hurting while feeling nauseated, I laid back down for an hour to regain enough strength to find a spot to eat breakfast.

Recovering on the beach in Nah Trang!

2008-06-06T02:56:00.001-06:00

Around 5:30 this morning, I awoke on the ground outside of a hotel I had found in the guide book to find signs of life all around me. Some of the other hotels were opening their doors, a man was watering plants outside another and a little food vendor was setting up for breakfast. I stood up, wiped most of the dirt off my already filthy body and decided I would try and find a room to get cleaned up a bit before heading down to the beach. The first one I found turned out to be quite nice and at five dollars, I wasn't going to complain much anyway. I dropped my stuff on the floor, went into the bathroom and beheld a broken man. In need of a shave and a shower, I looked like I had been without a bed for a couple of weeks rather than the two nights that I had spent on the road.
The number one priority was to brush my teeth. The shower could wait but it had been about thirty hours without toothbrushing. After the teeth came a bit more sleep. A couple of hours later and I was starting to feel like myself again. I arose from my bed to a sunny day and stood beneath the shower and felt the life returning to my body. Following the shower, I got rid of the five day growth that was covering every inch of my face and neck. I looked in the mirror and was beginning to recognize myself again.
Next came food. An enormous English breakfast, a cup of coffee with sweetened condensed milk and as always, a banana shake. I devoured my food and had just enough money left on me to pay the barber for the use of his services. Since the voltage on my clippers is different is Asia, I now am forced to pay the two dollars here for a haircut but I still hold true to my principals and cut it myself. They usually laugh when I take the clippers from their hands and begin cutting my hair on my own. Today was no different but seeing as how my hair was the longest it has probably been in years, it felt damn good to have a haircut!
After a quick trip back to my hotel, I recharged my depleted funds at the atm and then began searching the town for a new beach towel. During a big storm in Loas, my favorite Auburn towel that has been around the world with me was destroyed. The wind blew it down below and covered it in mud and all forms of animal feces that you can imagine. I had seen dogs, pigs, chickens and ducks all occupying the area it landed in for the past few days and since it was fraying pretty badly anyway, I decided it was a total loss and left it as a blanket for the animals in case another wild storm came up and they needed some protection.
It wasn't long before I had located a new towel and made my way to the beach where I secured an nice adjustable chair with a thick cushion, small wooden table and a massive thatch umbrella. I took a big sip of water, grabbed my book and began to enjoy the endless blue sky over the turquoise colored water. Around lunch time, I was getting hungry but I had no desire to leave my little piece of paradise. The chair I was in belonged to a restaurant that looked rather expensive so rather than leave, I was just planning on skipping lunch. At this point, a woman carrying a small grill and some seafood began waving a nice sized lobster in front of me. Seeing as how I had missed lunch the day before, for six dollars, I couldn't resist! The nice little lady put her spices and portable bucket that had been transformed into a grill to good use. Fifteen minutes later and I had the most wonderful grilled lobster that I have ever eaten.
After lunch I got back to my book for a while and after another hour or so, another woman approached selling pineapples. A little deserted sounded pretty good by then and after paying her a dollar to slice up an enormous pineapple, I had to work hard just to get it all down. Lobster and pineapple on an incredibly beautiful beach reading an incredible book is one hell of a great way to get over a miserable journey like the one I made to get here. All I am missing now is a beautiful woman to share the experience with. Any one out there feel like joining?
A side note: The book I read today was Paulo Cohelo's The Alchemist. I have to recommend this book to everyone I know, especially if the journey I am on is hard for you to imagine. I must warn you that it may have an impact on your life and cause you to chase some of the dreams that you have always held close to your heart.

The long journey back to Vietnam

2008-05-28T23:36:00.001-06:00

I had been in way to good of a mood for the past week and I knew things were sure to come crashing down soon. That's the way it is when you travel. When things are good, they are really good. When they are bad, they are really bad. Having had such wonderful luck working out my Chinese Visa and then following that up with sorting out a Vietnamese visa in no time at all, I knew I was destined for a downfall. I had bumped into old friends, enjoyed every minute of every day, and found a good price and time for every bit of transportation that I took. The food was great and the beers were cold. My jokes were funny and women half way around the world were falling in love with me. Things couldn't get any better! It could however get worse.

I said good bye to three new friends I had dinner with in Savanahkett, Laos, picked up my bags and walked out the door of the guesthouse where I spent the day waiting on a night bus to deliver me across the border and on to Danang, Vietnam. While the woman at the bus station had told me that the trip was fifteen hours, I definitely believed her but I couldn't figure out where in the world all that time was coming from. Looking at the map and knowing the distances in Vietnam, it seemed like the trip should only take half as long. Oh well I thought, fifteen hours on a night bus is usually not that bad.

After flagging down a tuk tuk driver and being dropped off at the bus station, I promptly paid my driver the 10,000 kip he requested with one of my only three Laos bills left, a 50,000 kip note. He put it in his pocket and handed me back a 10,000 kip note. I looked at him and realizing that he didn't speak English, held up four fingers signifying that he owed me 40,000, not 10,000. We began to argue each in our own language and for the first half of the argument I assumed he was pretending like it cost 40,000 for the ride although we had agreed upon 10,000. I began to raise my voice, yell out into the bus station if anyone spoke English and proceeded to call the man a thief. As I stared him in the eyes with a threatening and extremely angry look to convey my point, he then began to yell something else and discuss the matter with a man standing beside him now. During the discussions, he began to point at me and laugh. Not pleased at being ripped off and now laughed at, the man again pointed his finger at me, extending his arm close enough to grab and grab I did. I grabbed the man and yanked him out of his tuk tuk and onto the ground. At this point, I think he realized how serious I was and that he wasn't getting out of here with my money.

The man began to pull money from his pocket and put it into my hand. When he got to forty he stopped and I said thank you, still madder than hell though. He then held up a 20,000 note and waved it in my face, I think to say what he may have been arguing the entire time that I had only given him a 20,000 kip note instead of the 50,000 kip note. I turned my back on him while he tried to show that he had no 50,000 kip note and knowing how much the two look alike, I had a moment of doubt. Earlier in the day, I tried to pay for something that was 20,000 kip and I didn't have anything but three 50,000 notes. A girl that was with me paid the money as the person we were paying didn't have any change. We settled up our debt at dinner. My meal was 30,000 and since I owed her 20,000, I gave her a fifty. I then proceeded to check my funds to make sure I would have enough to buy some water, get a tuk tuk to the bus station and a snack in the night if I needed it at one of the stops along the way. I am positive I only had two fifties left. Walking away, with that slight moment of doubt and then the thought that what if I had given him a 50 and he thought it was a 20? What if he really wasn't trying to rip me off and I had really given him a 20? With that slight doubt in my mind, I turned around, still angry and threw all of the change back at him including the fee for the ride. He began to pick up the money and departed shortly after. The ride cost me five times what it should of in my moment of rage but I decided he needed the cash worse than I did no matter if he was ripping me off or if I had made the mistake. I would hate to have taken the money out of the hand of an honest man for a mistake I made. I felt bad for my behavior but in retrospect, I am confident that I gave him a fifty originally. Five dollars will make a big difference in that man's life and if he was ripping me off, then maybe my yanking him from his tuk tuk to the ground will make him think twice before he tries it again on someone else.

I boarded the bus at 9:30 to give my bag to a man inside which at first seemed odd as my bag usually goes beneath the bus. Upon boarding I quickly realized that this might be a really really long bus ride. All of the seats in the back of the bus had been removed and in there place was a massive stash of enormous white rice bags and brown cardboard boxes carrying god knows what. The normal seats seemed strange in some respect and it took me a minute to realize that they were actually raised up higher to accommodate more cardboard boxes from beneath. You might think that this would make it hard for your feet to touch the ground but you have to realize that there were also cardboard boxes stacked up to the level of the seat itself, and in some cases even higher on the floor where your legs would normally go. The seats were filled with other miscellaneous things and as I looked around trying to choose a seat, the man who took my bag and tossed in in the back amongst all of the other cargo directed me to get off the bus. At this point I began to feel a bit of relief as he must be moving all of the stuff in the seats to the back, I hope.

A few minutes before ten, something came over a speaker in the bus station which obviously signaled that it was time to board our bus as everyone ran for the door in a mad chaos, actually, more like a complete panic. I stood up and joined the back of the line from where the man who was checking tickets waved me to the front and pushed everyone aside to let me through. I am not sure why I was getting special permission, I can only think that it had something to do with the fact that I purchased my ticket earlier in the day and had probably paid a bit more for the privilege of one of the actual few seats on the bus.

Once on board, I found a seat that had the least amount of cargo stored in front of it and as I was making my way to the window seat, a man who had obviously claimed that seat with the bag on the floor nearby climbed over me and left me in the aisle seat. No place to rest my head. Great! I would shortly learn however that it would not matter in the least bit.

11:30 and the bus had not moved an inch. The seats were full and the top of cargo area became like a massive human storage compartment. People were lying down in the aisles and sitting on boxes everywhere. Cell phone radios played and the heat, the heat was unimaginable. The only time I have ever been in Sauna was as a child at the local fitness club. This heat was ten times worse than that ever felt. Sweat poured from every bit of my body and there was no relief in sight. Imagine if you can that this would be the way I would feel until about three o'clock in the morning.

12:00 and we were finally on our way. Five minutes from the bus station we did the typical Asian stop for gas as soon as you get started. Another five minutes and we did the next official stop which was for everyone to enter into the woods to pea as the bus stations charge you about twenty cents to use the toilet. The toilet break ended and I thought we would finally get going. With all the operable windows on the bus closed as the locals fear being cold worse than anything, I along with everyone else on the bus continued to sweat profusely. As I tried to find a comfortable position to adjust my feet atop the cardboard boxes in the floor and spread my knees around my backpack, the bus came to another stop. I had no idea why we were again stopping but when the bus driver turned off the engine, that was the signal for most people to take another pee break or just stand outside and smoke. Seeing as how it was 12:30 in the morning and we had been going for only a half hour at an extremely slow pace, this could not be another toilet break.

A man with a flashlight in his hand, a big gut beneath his shirt, and a pistol in his pocket came on board shining his light at everyone and all of the cargo. Now I am sure there was plenty of illegal stuff in the bus, rice, or alcohol or drugs or something that was taxed more heavily in Vietnam than Laos, but I really have no idea what we were actually carrying. Another man came on board in a uniform shining a flashlight and asking lots of questions. When I looked outside again, I realized that they had emptied a bunch of baskets from under the bus and were looking through those as well. I decided I couldn't take the heat any longer and would stand outside with the others who had decided to disembark until the matter at hand was solved.

Packages came out of the window for the next twenty minutes until the ground had about half the stuff that was on the bus lying around. When the forces who had stopped us felt they had emptied whatever it was they didn't want on the bus, we all re-boarded. I expected to see cries and pleas from some of the people on board because they were having to leave all of their stuff on the side of the road but the cries never came. Everyone promptly returned to their seats , boxes and designated spots on the floor and we continued on our way in the slowest moving sauna you can ever imagine.

You would think the half emptying of the bus of all that stuff would have made a bit of room but it looked just as crowded as ever. You couldn't even tell that anything had been removed. We had now been underway for a solid fifteen minutes this time and I thought we were finally on our way when the bus began to slow down, again coming to a complete stop. This time, we were in a very dark spot and five men quickly ran from the bus to a tree where they began picking up boxes and loading them onto the back of the bus. I again have no idea what was in those boxes, but I am pretty sure they knew that we would be boarded where we were and we were now picking up the really illegal stuff.

Now, 1:30 a.m. and we were finally moving along the road, still sweating but at a decent pace now. We rode on until 3:15 with only a few quick stops in between and I felt that other than the heat inside the bus and the sound of ten cell phones all playing different tunes, I was going to survive this journey. Just as I said that, the bus came to a stop, the engine cut off and everyone began to disembark. I thought this was just a routine food stop as they seem to do them at all hours of the day here and everyone always seems to be hungry and ready to participate in each and every meal. At first I thought I would just wait on the bus and try and get some sleep. After a while, I noticed people weren't eating but were just standing around. Some had even walked off down the road and had yet to return. Could we already be at the border? Surely not. The border isn't supposed to be open until 7:00 in the morning. Why in the world would we leave so early to get to the border three and a half hours before it opened? That question will never be answered but that is exactly what happened.

At the roadside stall I found another white person who was experiencing the same trip as I from a different bus that had originated a few hundred kilometers further away than mine. She informed me that after lots of work she determined that we were at the border. She had been there since 2:00 a.m. and it didn't look like anything was happening till sometime between 5:00 and 7:00. We chatted for a minute about how miserable we were both feeling and I finally said I am sorry but I need to get some sleep and I put my head on the table and tried to recall the wonderful art I had learned in high school of how to sleep with your head laying on your arm on your desk.

I think I got a full hour or so of sleep and I have to say that made a huge difference in my mental state this early in the morning. It was now 5:45 and I gathered that pretty soon we would make it to Laos immigration. Around 6:20, the bus started and drove us the five minutes to Laos immigration where there was already a horde of people gathered around the window that read departure. For some reason, Asian people have no idea how to form a line or for that matter any concept of what one is. Even if there is a group of people standing in line, the sweetest of people here will barge their way up to the front and cut everyone off. Now, imagine there are several hundred people trying to do this at three small windows. Complete and utter chaos. After a thirty minute fight, I managed to get my passport into the window where a few minutes later, I watched the officer flip through the pages, find my Laos visa and put a stamp inside. After completing this process, he threw it off to the side in a pile with all of the others he had taken. Fifteen minutes later and still no passport in hand I was confused and beginning to worry about receiving my passport again. I went around to the arrivals side where there was not a line yet as the border wasn't actually opening for another five minutes or so and she informed me that at 7:00, they would begin handing the passports back out.

Sure enough, at 7:00, they began placing passports against the window showing the picture and name. People struggled and fought to see the faces of each passport. This is the most ridiculous process I have ever seen at any border anywhere in the world. Eventually, my passport showed up, I threw a few elbows here and there and made my way to the window where I retrieved one of the most important possessions I have over here.

From there, I walked 500 meters across the border where I was again amazed at the spectacle before hand. The same mass of people was now mobbing the Vietnam arrivals window in the same fashion that they were in Laos. Fortunately, the Vietnamese immigration officers didn't approve and waved and yelled everyone into a cue. This didn't stop people from cutting into line with every given opportunity. I even took the liberty of pulling a couple of people who stepped in front of me back out of line and directing them to the end of the line. When I had finally neared the window, a little old woman broke in line in front of me. Everyone including her smiled at me, and I think those who had seen me pull several men from in front of were quite surprised that I could let a woman do the same thing.

Finally through immigration and customs and the bus was again rolling. I boarded the bus as quickly as possible and decided that I was taking the seat next to the window this time. I wanted control of the window and no one was going to take that away from me. With the sun now out, the bus had the potential of becoming an oven on wheels, cooking the flesh off of my body. No one, was taking me out of that window seat! The man who sat by me and who by the way made frog sounds in his sleep, how he could sleep I will never understand, came and sat beside me. He pointed to his window seat, and I shook my head, gave a few jerks to the front of my t-shirt, wiped my brow and pointed at the window. I think he got the point and sat down.

Rolling along with the wind in my face, I thought now that I might somehow manage to survive this ordeal. Ten minutes later the stops began. We began to stop constantly to unload all of this cargo we were carrying and ever so slowly, the people also began to depart. By ten o clock, we had probably not traveled 30 kilometers, but the bus was getting to be pretty empty. Most of the cargo in the back and beneath my feet was now gone. The man beside me had left as had most everyone riding in the back. Things were looking good! We rolled on down the road and I was determined to try and get some rest. The bus and my seat were determined to not let that happen. With the emptying of all of the cargo that had my seat smashed into a nice vertical position, it changed the whole nature of the stiff and stubborn seat to which I was riding in. It now felt like I was riding on the biggest spring that had ever existed. My seat squeaked and was set into harmony with every bump we went over. At times, it felt as if I was floating in the air, suspended between the bumps until my seat would again tap me and shoot me back to the air as I settled back down.

By noon, the springiness of the seat had not settled down but we had managed to pick up an old woman who was selling some form of food wrapped in banana leaves on the bus along with some baguettes. Unable to identify the food in the banana leaves, I purchased two baguettes which I promptly devoured like they were the last morsels of food on earth. The woman came back around for a second time and having no clue as when we might actually stop for food as we had yet to do so far, I purchased a second round of baguettes and devoured those as quickly as the first two. Five minutes after I had eaten the bread, the bus came to another stop. Everyone stood up and the woman sitting nearby me looked at me and made a signal that it was time to eat. Still hungry, I was happy to eat but needless to say four large baguettes in my belly might make it difficult to fit much more in.

Lunch ended and we were now what I knew to be a five hour journey in a normal bus away from our destination as was written on the ticket in my hand. We bounced on down the road and with some food and my belly and the wind upon my face, I felt good enough to pop my headphones in and enjoy the rest of the days journey. Around 1:45, we entered into the city of Hue and the buss pulled into the bus station. The driver promptly told me to get off the bus and handed me my bag. I tried to explain that I thought we were going to Danang but it was quite clear it didn't matter. All said and done, I was hoping to get off this bus in Hue anyway and catch a much better bus further on.

At the bus station, everyone wanted me on their bus. It was quite obvious that I was white and to them that meant I was not only rich, but a sucker as well. I boarded one luxury bus and when they tried to charge me twice the going rate that I knew of to get to the next town further South, I jumped right back off. The ticket people weren't making any sense either and fortunately a security guard who spoke great English stepped in and offered help. He helped me get a ticket on a mini van that left in ten minutes. I grabbed the front seat and with only a few people in the back, we pulled onto the highway. We were on our way and I might actually be able to catch the night bus to Nah Trang that I hoped to get in Danang. Once on the highway, the bus pulled to a stop. The driver and his assistant spent the next forty five minutes packing people who must be getting some sort of a discount for not going to the bus station into the back. The mini bus was as full as any I have ever been on and the AC was working about as well as most as well.

We finally pulled off towards Danang with our packed mini bus and although the AC was on full blast, I was again sweating profusely. I attempted to crack my window and place my hand out of it to direct some of the air towards my face but the driver didn't seem to like this and decided to roll the window up on my hand. Ouch! Nothing to him. He just kept driving. What a bastard!

We arrived in Danang and were of course bombarded by the motor taxis. I told them I wanted a bus and one took me to his friends bus that he must be getting a commission from. The bus was headed South, leaving in just a few minutes and would reportedly arrive in Nah Trang at five in the morning. I asked if there was a bit later one so I could get some food and the motor taxi man and the bus ticket hawker reminded me that the bus would stop for food in a couple of hours. I thought it to be a good point and agreed to buy the ticket. The price started at about 400,000 dong. Way too much. I had made a similar journey on a similar bus for half that price and wasn't going to pay a penny more. It took persistence and hard negotiating but I managed to get the cost down to 200,000 dong or about $12. A fair price on an all night bus that is complete with full size beds!

Aside from the blaring loud music and comedy show that was on the tv, the bus was perfect! Air con blasting so hard that I needed the blanket provided and my ipod with sleep timer allowed me to sleep through till our dinner break a few hours later. After dinner, I fell back asleep and didn't wake except to shift my position until a man poked me at around 3:15. He said we were in Nah Trang. I gathered up my things and knew that nothing was going to be open, but who cares, I had finally made it to my destination!

When I disembarked from the bus, I was greeted of course by a motor taxi driver who showed me a card for a hotel and said it was only 40,000 dong, the same price he wanted to take me the “very far” five kilometers across town. I got him down to 10,000 dong for the ride and we rode into the dark streets of Nah Trang toward the hotel. The hotel had a security staff and receptionist who were actually awake. I immediately had my doubts to the 40,000 dong this was going to cost. I asked about a room and how much it would be and she replied 400,000 dong! Shocked, I walked out the door. The best price I heard on my way out was 350,00 dong. I do actually think my driver mis understood their prices and had not maliciously brought me there. I told him to take me to the original place I had requested which I knew would not be open but it at least put me in the vicinity of other hotels that I wanted to check out in the morning. He dropped me off at the dark and closed up hotel and of course asked for more money. Entertained by his proposition I just laughed at him and waved him off. He didn't put up much of an argument and left me there on the street. I turned my bags into the bed that they have become so many times before and fell asleep on the ground on the dark and empty streets of Nah Trang. I was finally there after thirty hours of miserable hell and bed or not, I curled up with my small backpack in my arms and fell asleep.

Recovering on the beach in Nah Trang

2008-05-28T22:58:00.000-06:00

Number one priority was to brush my teeth. The shower could wait but it had been about thirty hours without toothbrushing. After the teeth came a bit more sleep. A couple of hours later and I was feeling like myself again. I arose from my bed to a sunny day and stood beneath the shower and felt the life returning to my body. Following the shower, I got rid of the four day growth that was covering every inch of my face and neck. I looked in the mirror and was beginning to recognize myself again.

Next came food. An enormous English breakfast, a cup of coffee with sweetened condensed milk and as always, a banana shake. I devoured my food and had just enough money left on me to pay the barber for the use of his services. Since the voltage on my clippers is different is Asia, I now am forced to pay the two dollars here for a haircut but I still hold true to my principals and cut it myself. They usually laugh when I take the clippers from their hands and begin cutting my hair on my own. Today was no different but seeing as how my hair was the longest it has probably been in years, it felt damn good to have a haircut!

After a quick trip back to my hotel, I recharged my depleted funds at the atm and then began searching the town for a new beach towel. During a big storm in Loas, my favorite Auburn towel that has been around the world with me was destroyed. The wind blew it down below and covered it in mud and all forms of animal feces that you can imagine. I had seen dogs, pigs, chickens and ducks all occupying the area it landed in for the past few days and since it was fraying pretty badly anyway, I decided it was a total loss and left it as a blanket for the animals in case another wild storm came up and they needed some protection.

It wasn't long before I had located a new towel and made my way to the beach where I secured an nice adjustable chair with a thick cushion, small wooden table and a massive thatch umbrella. I took a big sip of water, grabbed my book and began to enjoy the endless blue sky over the turquoise colored water. Around lunch time, I was getting hungry but I had no desire to leave my little piece of paradise. The chair I was in belonged to a restaurant that looked rather expensive so rather than leave, I was just planning on skipping lunch. At this point, a woman carrying a small grill and some seafood began waving a nice sized lobster in front of me. Seeing as how I had missed lunch the day before, for six dollars, I couldn't resist! The nice little lady put her spices and portable bucket that had been transformed into a grill to good use. Fifteen minutes later and I had the most wonderful grilled lobster that I have ever eaten.

After lunch I got back to my book for a while and after another hour or so, another woman approached selling pineapples. A little deserted sounded pretty good by then and after paying her a dollar to slice up an enormous pineapple, I had to work hard just to get it all down. Lobster and pineapple on an incredibly beautiful beach reading an incredible book is one hell of a great way to get over a miserable journey like the one I made to get here. All I am missing now is a beautiful woman to share the experience with. Any one out there feel like joining?

A side note: The book I read today was Paulo Cohelo's The Alchemist. I have to recommend this book to everyone I know, especially if the journey I am on is hard for you to imagine. I must warn you that it may have an impact on your life and cause you to chase some of the dreams that you have always held close to your heart.

Russian Visa!

2008-05-28T22:57:00.002-06:00

It is looking like obtaining a Russian visa may actually be more difficult for me than obtaining a China one! This is not good!!!!!

How to obtain a Chinese Visa

2008-05-28T22:57:00.001-06:00

I am not going into the specifics on what exactly I did to obtain a Chinese Visa but I will give you the basics. First off as many of my fellow travelers have asked, it didn't involve any strange sexual favors. I simply thought long and hard about the documents they requested seeing. These are all fairly new regulations due to the Olympics. The sweeping hand of the Chinese communist government decided that in order to be considered for a visa, you first needed hotel reservations as well as return flights into and out of the country. For some reason, they chose to ignore those of us hovering around the borders hoping to enter by bus or train. Along with the flights, you needed hotel reservations. Most other backpackers I know were stressed about this, but to me, that was the easy part.

Hotel reservations are easy, I just found a website and made reservations at a China hotel. No problem and no credit card needed. As soon as they emailed a confirmation, I printed off the document and canceled the reservation. The flights however were a whole different issue. Let's just say that making a few bookings to obtain some itineraries as well as an old American Airlines Eticket in my email and a little bit of photoshop went a long way. In hindsight, I figured out that Laos airlines would give you an eticket print off with your name and itinerary and passport number on it without even paying and you could use that just as easily.

From that point, all it took was a ten minute bicycle ride to the embassy, a ridiculous fee for American's only, one small photo and a few hours later I had a Chinese visa! The guy looked at my hotel reservation, my doctored up plane tickets and handed them right back to me. He had no concern at all of how I actually get into the country, he just needed to see the documents for an instant. Beautiful! China here I come!!!

Hanging out in Luang Prabang

2008-05-28T22:56:00.000-06:00

I bumped into my friends Allison and Andrew in Luang Prabang again. They arrived the same day as me and after having dinner that night, we decided to explore the area together. After a long walk around the city and a couple of days exploring the local waterfalls, we ended up having a really good time together. The end of the second day took a short turn downhill when Allison's camera decided to quit working. She had also received some of her grades the day before and wasn't too happy about that either. As the sun was starting to set, I made the suggestion that we look past all those troubles, buy a bottle of tiger whiskey and head down to the river to watch the sunset.

Tiger Whiskey mixed 1 to 1 with coke goes down ever so smoothly. Seeing as how the coke is actually more expensive than the whiskey, I would have to say that it is pretty damn amazing. A full liter and a half of Tiger Whiskey costs $1.50. I have seen it for as low as $1 but here in a tourist town we have to pay the inflated cost. Now, the other beautiful thing about Tiger Whiskey is that you don't have a headache the next morning. I don't know what the magic substance inside is but as good as it tastes, as cheap as it is and the fact that you don't get a headache the next day makes this stuff as precious as gold. You could make millions if you sold it back in the states. I think I may have to go into business importing this stuff when I go back home!

An hour long sunset and between the three of us the bottle was gone. We set out from there to take a quick shower followed by the best pizza I have eaten in Asia. I try to avoid the western food over here because it usually turns out to be so bad but Andrew was set on pizza and he claimed he had seen someone eating one of these pizzas earlier in the day and they looked pretty good. I am now happy to say that he was dead on. I felt quite nourished after devouring an enormous thin crust pizza! Not sure of what to do after dinner, I suggested we get another bottle of Tiger Whiskey and wander around the market.

I think it was the first bottle of whiskey talking in me that thought it was a good idea but it must have been saying the same thing to Allison and Andrew as they both agreed that another bottle was a great idea. We bought a cheap bottle of water to use to mix half of the whiskey and coke in and the rest we just mixed in the whiskey bottle. Looking like a bunch of drunken winos with our bottles in hand, we set out to explore the night market.

Andrew was the only one still capable of drinking by the end of the whiskey but Allison and I managed to follow along to a bar later on that night. I watched Andrew drink one beer and he didn't appear to need it at all. When he was about half way finished, I called it a game for me and headed for home. I definitely had a good nights sleep that night, but the next day was a whole other story. We all woke up feeling a bit strange yet no one actually felt bad. The whole day however, we were walking around like a bunch of fools. Math was extremely difficult, we couldn't remember words and we were all around pretty much worthless. The only thing that was accomplished was a ride to one of the local waterfalls in a tuk tuk late in the afternoon to go for a swim in the cool waters. Even that felt like work! While I think I can still recommend the Tiger Whiskey to anyone who finds themselves around Laos or Southeast Asia, I don't recommend consuming a liter for each person throughout the course of just one night!

Spring Break ruins Vang Vieng

2008-05-28T22:55:00.000-06:00

Sitting outside an internet cafe my second day in Vang Vieng I met a British guy who asked me if I had been tubing yet. I told him no but I had heard a lot about it here and wasn't sure that it was something I would enjoy. I have been tubing elsewhere in the world and floating down a stream in the middle of nowhere is always a relaxing experience. You can even tote a cooler full of beer behind your tube while you sit back and relax for the day and just let the scenery pass you by. My impression of what tubing in Vang Vieng had to offer however was somewhat different. My suspicions were confirmed when the British guy to whom I was speaking told me “Hands down, it will be the best day of your life!” I stared at him for a moment to see if he was being serious. I said “I hardly doubt that. I have had a pretty amazing life and somehow I don't imagine that tubing down this river that I have heard so much about will turn out to be the best day of my life.” His response, “You won't believe it. Hands down it will be the best day of your life.” I quickly recalled my last day in Tonsai, Thailand where in my current thoughts, I don't think there are many days that can ever live up to that day. I won't get into too many specifics but I have to say that there aren't many days that will ever compare to that one in my book. If tubing here comes even close, I will rebuke all I have said, but somehow I don't think it will.

After another day of exploring more caves, this time on my own and this time in a much more adventurous fashion, I found myself with nothing to do for the remainder of the afternoon. The sun had finally emerged from the clouds so I decided to give this tubing thing a try and find out if it was as horrible as I expected. Originally I had thought I could come here and not go on this tubing adventure thus setting me apart from all of the other travelers in the area. I have never met anyone else who came to Vang Vieng and didn't go tubing. I thought it might set me apart from everyone else as being above and beyond ordinary. Here I was however with nothing else to do so I paid a few dollars for a tube and a lift upstream.

My suspicions were immediately confirmed with there being a small shack selling drinks right where you are dropped off along the shore of the river. A few people who had shared the tuk tuk with me on the way up stopped off and had their first drink. The party had begun. I passed the bar and plopped down in my tube and silently floated away. After an entire minute of silence, I began to hear the music. Loud dance music blasting through the air and screaming and whooping and yelling from further on downstream. As I floated closer, I could never have imagined that the state of things along this amazing and scenic river could be as bad as it was. Bar after bar lined the shores as all of the tubers made it a priority to spend the day bar hopping all the way down the river till they could no longer comprehend where they even were. Each bar was equipped with massive rope swings departing from platforms about twenty five feet in the air where they each launched the drunken tubers high into the sky. It was a new experience that most of these people never had before.

Now, I am all for rope swings and even tubing down rivers with a few beers in hand. I stopped at the least obnoxious bar I could see, went straight past the alcohol and took a few turns on the rope swing. After a few swings in between the already drunken people at 2:00 in the afternoon I made my way back to my tube with the decision that there would be no more stopping and even purchasing a beer at any of these places would be against so many principals that I believe in.

Most everyone reading this knows that I am an avid outdoor enthusiast and whitewater kayaker. What I as most people enjoy about being out in nature is getting away from the crowds, the loud music and the sounds of everyday life. Whenever I am kayaking on a river where commercial rafting takes place, it takes away from everything that is so wonderful about being on that river. Vang Vieng is the epitome of how our society can take a place so pure in it's beauty and turn it into a circus or disney world type of attraction. It wasn't good enough for the backpackers to come here to float down a river in one of the most beautiful settings I have ever seen. They couldn't just come here to enjoy the incredible surrounding mountains and streams with the small thatched hut villages scattered along the shores. No, they had to turn it into Spring Break 365 day a year! God forbid you aren't stoned and drunk to actually enjoy something. For me to have had a drink at any of these bars would be condoning the destruction of this stunning place and I wasn't having any part of it. It has left me with a bitter taste in my mouth and I wish I had by passed the entire tubing experience here. What I saw was 100 times worse than I could have imagined and I felt sorry for the lost souls who actually believed that this was “Hands down, the best day of their lives.”

Spelunking through Vang Vieng

2008-05-28T22:54:00.003-06:00

I took a day to explore the many beautiful Wats, Stupas and temples that abound throughout the Colonial capital of Laos, Vientiane. It is probably the smallest and most basic capital city that exists anywhere in the world with the tallest building probably not exceeding five stories. Most of the city (town would be more appropriate) is only two or three stories and stretches out from the banks of the Mekong River, the lifeblood of all of the countries throughout IndoChina. Along the river are countless places to eat and drink. Simple local run places with nothing more than a platform and some plastic tables and chairs. At the end of the day you can sit along the riverside, sip on a coconut, a banana shake or a beer lao and watch the setting sun turn the sky into a dance of different colors until at last the light of day fades away.

Happy to have taken my time enjoying the capital, I felt sorry for the many people I met the night before who were skipping out on all of the cultural and historical sights of the country in exchange for partying and tubing down the river in Vang Vieng, the place that put Laos on the map as one of the top backpacker destinations in Southeast Asia. I wasn't sure what to expect from the town or the surrounding area but since all I had heard about was how great the tubing experience there was, I had to make a visit just to check it out for myself.

When I arrived in Vang Vieng, I knew that I wanted to be out of the main town as the streets are lined with bars and restaurants all broadcasting reruns of popular tv shows like Friends on multiple televisions throughout. Inside these tv bars were endless rows of backpackers sipping on cocktails and beers while wasting away their holidays in one of the most stunningly scenic places I have ever visited. I cared so little for this part of the town that I couldn't even bring myself to have dinner in the area as the sound of Ross and Rachel could always be heard in the background. Just seeing that these type of places existed and were actually successful here made me sick.

After doing a bit of exploring around town looking for a decent place to stay, I found a rickety bridge that crossed the swift moving Nam Song river. Arriving on the opposite side without slipping through any of the holes in the bridge, I found myself at a family run guest house that consisted of a series of small huts situated along the river complete with hammocks on each porch, a fan, a large bed and a mosquito net. For just under three dollars, this was exactly what I was looking for. I set down my bags, had some lunch and stretched out in the hammock and spent the remainder of the day relaxing in the shade of my porch slipping in and out of sleep between chapters in the book I was reading.

The sun began to set and with it the air cleared from the hazy and cloudy day that had enveloped the area. It finally gave me the opportunity to have a look around. I found myself to be situated against the base of stunning limestone formations for as far as the eye could see. It was pretty apparent to me that I could find a lot more to do here than partying and watching television.

My first full day, I rented a mountain bike where I made the mistake of inviting a British couple along to join me for the day in my exploration of the area. I had read about some caves around the area that I wanted to check out and in the meantime get some good exercise by covering a lot of ground on a bicycle. Five minutes down the road and moving extremely slowly, I realized that this may have been the first bit of exercise that the British couple had done in the past ten or so years. I was actually having a hard time keeping my bicycle balanced by traveling so slow. I felt guilty about ditching them after inviting them along so I just began pulling ahead and riding back behind them and then repeating the process till we actually reached our first destination.

Although we hadn't intended to find the first cave that we came across (it wasn't in the book or on the map we had) it turned out to be quite and interesting find. After parking our bicycles and paying the man that lived on the property a dollar to let us into the cave, he provided us each with a torch and pointed us toward the entrance to the cave. Seeing as how he didn't speak English, we weren't sure what we would find in the cave or how far in we could actually go but in that lies the excitement of exploring subterranean passage ways.

Having left my headlamp on my bed that morning even after going back to get it, I was not happy with the torch that the man gave me at the entrance to the cave. It lit up only a small spot wherever I shined it's pathetic little beam. As we ventured in through the entrance, we could hear the sound of water rushing inside and after a short walk we were greeted by a rushing stream that poured forth from the depths of the cave. Seeing that the water wasn't too deep, I gladly began trudging up the stream. The British couple just went to the edge of the water and stared. I continued on slowly, thinking they would eventually come along. After walking for a bit, I again found dry land and began to wait for the other two to catch up. Ten minutes later and no sign of flashlights through the darkness and I decided to go back and check on the other two. They were still at the edge of the water and I asked what the problem was. The guy was wearing his trainers and didn't want to get them wet. So sad, I didn't even think that the poor guy would have had to get his feet wet. I suggested he take his shoes off as all of the stones are very smooth and wade across with them to the dry ground that I had found shortly up. Although he seemed reluctant, I think he did not want to appear to be the scared little boy that he was and conceded.

With the British couple walking at the pace of a child through a haunted house, I made my way deeper into the cave where again I was forced into the water. The cave was more of a tunnel that housed a small river that poured forth from it's depths obviously the source of it's creation so long ago. Seeing as how I had just finished reading journey to the center of the earth, finding myself alone in the darkness going upstream in this cave made me feel as if I was a character in the book. I imagined myself going further and further in until I found an entire other world in the depths below.

By now, I had given up hope of the British couple making it further into the cave and resolved to proceed on my own as I have done so many times before in the multitude of caves I have explored throughout Southeast Asia. As the stream went on, I continued to emerge onto it's dry banks for short periods of time before splashing back in again. At one point, I had to take my shirt off and carry my backpack above my head to make it through and keep all of my gear dry. It was becoming an all out adventure!

I had now been walking for a solid hour and the cave was showing no signs of closing up. Normally, having my trusty LED headlamp, I would have pressed on. Here however I found myself at the mercy of a cheap torch that recharges itself by plugging it into a wall. If the other couple had joined me I would have gladly pressed on but the thought of having my torch fail me this far inside began to get into my head. I could easily follow the stream back out in the dark but there was one catch that worried me. Along the way I had passed several spots where some of the water disappeared into small passages that were just big enough for a human to slip through into the unknown depths of the cave. At these points, the water picked up speed and forced it's way into the earth with enough power to take me along with it. All it would take in the dark would be one wrong step and off I would shoot into a passage that would most likely swallow me up, never to be seen again.

I reluctantly turned back where I eventually found the British couple where I had left them making excuses of why they had not followed. “The formations are just so beautiful here that we could spend hours just looking at them!” Bullshit I thought, go back to your pampered lives in London. We made our way out of the cave, thanked the man and remounted our bicycles on a quest to find a cave that I read about where after exploring it's depths it was possible to find an underground lake that made a fine place to have a relaxing swim in the dark.

We pulled back onto a dirt road and the British couple resumed the pace of a child trying to learn how to use a bicycle with training wheels. At this point, I made the decision to move on without them. There was lots to see in the area and the day was already half gone. I wasn't going to let them spoil my adventures. As I cruised down the dirt road turning every bump and hill into a small ramp, I suddenly heard a loud “pop!” and saw the end of a glass bottle fly up from my front tire into the air. I immediately began to swear and brought the bicycle to a halt to find what I knew to be true. The front tire was as flat as could be. Stranded in the middle of nowhere, I could only think that my adventurous plans for the rest of the day would now be replaced by the sad and slow process of pushing my bike the twelve kilometers back to town.

As I pushed along the dirt road, there was still no sign of the British couple behind. As slow as they were, I was surprised that they had not yet caught up to me. Walking along, I was reminded that there are motorcycle tire repair men everywhere here. Even the smallest of villages has someone who repairs the motorcycle tires which are all equipped with tubes here. I started to think that surely it wouldn't be too long before I found a place to repair my tire. At th first sign of life, a few ladies walking along the road, I pointed at my tire and they pointed me on down the road in the direction I was heading. Five minutes later and a few more people pointed me on down again. Ahead of me I could see a group of children playing in a small stream which I took as a good sign that there might be a village nearby and that is where the people I had met along the way were pointing me. Sure enough when I reached the children there was a small path leading into a little thatched hut village. The people I met there pointed me toward the village where I found exactly what I was looking for, a small shack with motorcycle tires hanging on the outside.

Ten minutes and fifty cents later, I thanked the man for his help and picked up my bicycle ready to continue on my way. As I started off on the bike, up walked the British couple now pushing there bikes as well. I said “you too?” The girl only responded by holding up a pedal in the air. “It fell off” she said. Huh, this is something I had never seen before. I decided to wait on them and showed them the way to the repair shop where I was sure the man could figure out a way to get her pedal back on and send us on our way. With the help of a hammer, a file, a screwdriver and a wrench, the pedal was forced back into place and the three of us were again on our way at the miserable pace our day had begun with.

The next cave was much larger and a local man offered his services as a guide which we gradually accepted. After walking in through a large cavern for a while we came to a small throat in the cave where you almost had to crawl under. Along with crawling, you would be forced to again get your feet wet. The man also informed the couple that further up you would be knee deep, then waist deep and then chest deep. This did not sound so exciting to the other couple so they decided to stay back and wait while our guide and I continued on our way.

After walking a good deal further, wading through water and crawling through passages we came to a spot where the guide told me that the water would get chest deep and I could see that there was barely enough room above the water for my head to pass through. He said it would only be that way for about thirty feet and then the cave would open up. A further twenty minutes or so, we would reach the underground lake where I could go for a swim. The catch to this as I saw was that I would have to leave my backpack laying on the ground outside of the passage. With two cameras, an ipod, my wallet and passport I wasn't too happy about this idea. If only the damn British couple had made it this far, they could stay here and stand guard over my things. It seemed like the perfect scam to take people into the cave while someone else waited to take all of your things hiding in some unknown passageway. As excited as I was to find the underground lake, I told my guide that we should get back as it was late in the day anyway and I didn't particularly care to ride the bike the fifteen or so kilometers down the unlit road back to town.

Returning we found the British couple where we left them, the guy still making excuses about not wanting to get his shoes wet. We all followed the guide out of the cave and after sorting out a reasonable amount to the pay the man who was demanding a ridiculous sum for the hour of his assistance we made our way back to Vang Vieng. I have to say at the end of the adventurous day that I had just had, I was disappointed that it wasn't that much better. While I enjoy the company of others, if they lack that sense of adventure of exploring unknown places, it really can detract from what you can accomplish in a day. I think tomorrow I will set out again on my own and attempt to explore more of these incredible limestone formations from the outside as well as the inside without the burden of a my new found friends.

A disatrous dinner conversation!

2008-05-28T22:54:00.001-06:00

After meeting Allison and Andrew in front of their hotel, I was introduced to a group of students from California who were all traveling together and were going to be joining us for dinner. At first this seemed like a great idea as most of them were twenty year old girls but as we began walking around looking for a place to eat, I quickly remembered the biggest advantage of traveling alone, only one person has to make a decision. After passing plenty of spots that looked great to me, everyone seemed to be torn in different directions. I had suggested a place that had a great local menu and the cheapest price on beers. It was pretty obvious it didn't look “Western” enough nor did it have any other backpackers at it so the majority of the group thought it looked dirty or something. Allison and Andrew hadn't commented much as they were chatting amongst themselves at the time so I was left to converse with the California girls on my own.

We kept walking and one couple from the California students began to talk about an Indian restaurant that they had seen in town. Now that we had walked past fifteen restaurants over the last twenty minutes, I was frustrated and just when I was about to walk off and go eat at the place I had chosen with whoever wanted to join me, one girl from California took the words right out of my mouth and said that was where she was headed if anyone wanted to join. Hurray! I was impressed with this girl for being so bold. It sounded like me around my friends when I am in the same situation. The only reason I hadn't already done it this night was that I was trying to make some new friends and didn't want to seem like a jerk or something. Everyone followed along except the couple searching for the Indian restaurant and it looked like it was going to be quite the pleasant meal.

After ordering dinner and drinks, myself, Andrew and Allison having beer Lao and the five California girls ordering magic mushroom whiskey, the conversations gradually began to go downhill. Andrew and Allison kept to themselves as they had not seen each other in a while which left me with the five California students. Ordinarily this would be a good thing but I quickly realized that these girls were not a group that I had much in common with. We first discussed the potency of the magic mushroom whiskey that they were consuming at a pretty astounding pace. At twenty years old being the average, they refused to believe that you could turn the magic mushrooms into whiskey. Having seen many a party throughout the world where mushroom tea was served, I assured them it was possible and that it did have the same effects. As intelligent as they thought they were, they then asked why it was possible to sell it at a restaurant in a country where drugs were illegal. While I have no good answer for that, I assured them that I had been to almost every country in Southeast Asia and mushroom shakes, whiskey and tea were a common item on the menus here. As well as magic mushrooms in your food, you can also get a variety of brownies, pizzas and various other things with pot thrown into the mix. Add the fact that every motor bike driver and guest house employee, no, change that, everyone that is breathing over here tries to sell you drugs and you would never really know that drugs were illegal unless somehow one of the cops who didn't use drugs, if that exists, decided to bust you with some.

After a short debate about the mushrooms, the conversation turned to the culture of Thailand where I quickly realized that these girls were not only poorly educated but also not very well traveled. They distorted a few of my statements and changed them into arguments. All five girls were quickly angry with me and fortunately Allison tried to help us end the conversation with the whole, “let's just agree to disagree” theory. I too thought it was a good idea and looking at her I could tell she actually said it for her own benefit as she looked like she was ready to jump into my corner of the argument and put these girls in their place. Apparently she has much more tack than I do and just decided to keep to herself instead and let me look like the fool.

Now, the conversation gets even better. One girl during the heat of the argument decided to walk outside to have a cigarette. Now that she had rejoined us, she sat back down and made a comment about her head spinning. The other girls asked if it was the three glasses of mushroom whiskey but she wasn't sure since she had just met a tuk tuk driver on the streets and had smoked a joint with him along with a bunch of opium. To the other four girls this was perfectly normal to do just before dinner and they didn't even seem surprised. They were actually more interested if the guy could sell them some more pot and opium and thinking ahead, the girl had already sent him out to get some.

With drugs the main topic, I sat back and watched these five girls go into their personal drug histories with miserable stories of “The first time I tried this and the fist time I tried that . . . “ Followed with “Oh, this one night I was so messed up on this that and the other that I thought I was going to die!” Very intellectually stimulating for me to say the least. With Andrew and Allison at the other end of the table I found myself in the middle of one of the worst conversations I had ever heard in my life. After remaining quiet for a bit, one of the girls finally looked at me and said, “You don't do drugs do you?” I responded with a simple no and she quickly followed with “I can see you don't, you don't look like you do.” It took everything in me not to tell her that unfortunately she did look like she did drugs, and plenty of them at that. You could see it in every bit of her skin and looks. Maybe it wasn't the drugs that had given her that look so young, but the non stop chain of cigarettes that moved between her hand and her mouth ever since we had met probably hadn't helped anything.

After dinner we stood outside the restaurant with a couple of the girls talking to a tuk tuk driver discussing possibilities of anyone going out for another drink. Allison and Andrew decided to head to bed and that was all I needed to hear. I wanted to be as far away from these five girls, whom I found to be a perfectly good waste of oxygen, as I could be! Smiling for this miserable dinner to be over and heading home for a good nights rest, I waved goodbye to the girls talking to the tuk tuk driver and overheard them arguing about the cost of Opium. I really hope everyone in Laos is not this pathetic!

Heading to Laos

2008-05-28T22:52:00.000-06:00

My last day in Hanoi began with a casual morning walking around town taking care of a few things that I needed to deal with regarding banks, emails, and phone calls. After sorting out everything I had set out to do, I packed my bag, left my hotel and stopped by a place that I knew not only had good food but was one of the cheaper places to get a bite to eat in the Old Quarter of Hanoi. With plenty of time to spare I opened up my handy guidebook and began looking at what sights Laos had to offer. As I read on, I realized that the meal was taking a really long time to come out and I needed to catch a bus to the airport at noon.

I still had a fifteen minute walk ahead of me and was going to need time to eat my food and here I was at 11:30 with nothing to eat yet. I sat there impatiently looking around and informed the staff of my travel plans. 11:40 came around and still no food on the table and as I watched the minutes go by on my watch, I continued telling myself that if it didn't come in the next minute I would just leave. 11:48 came around and I finally grabbed my things, said sorry, you took too long and walked out the door in the direction of the bus station.

Now I had investigated the location of the bus station earlier in the day so that I would be able to find it without any problems. The catch now was that I was approaching from a different way and things were beginning to look a bit different. I quickened my pace and began looking at street signs anything remotely familiar while constantly being bombarded with shouts of “Moto? Moto?” from every direction. The sensible thing to do would have definitely been to pay a dollar, jump on the back of a motor taxi and travel the quarter mile or so to the bus station, wherever in the hell it actually was. Instead, I continued walking, actually by now, I was almost running in order not to miss the bus that I needed to the airport. My watch now read 12:00 and I still had no idea where in the world the bus station could be. Sweat was pouring over my body as I turned yet another corner and finally saw the armada of mini vans waiting to take passengers to their various destinations. The bus was ready to leave and about to shut the door when they saw me hobble up under the weight of my backpack after running for nearly a full ten minutes now. There was one seat left in the back, sitting more on top of the luggage than the actual seat but at least I was on the bus and off to another country!

At the airport I checked in and finally got some food in my stomach helping me to feel normal again. I wandered around the airport for a while checking out the small duty free shops in the hopes of finding a good price on some M&Ms. I can't really explain why I had a craving for M&Ms but lately I have really been wanting some. You can find them every now and then along with a few other kinds of American candy bars but when you do find them, they tend to be pretty expensive. As I walked into the first duty free shop I saw, I found a decent size bag of M&Ms. I picked the bag up and my mouth began to water. Turning the bag over in my hand, I searched for a price tag. After searching for a bit, I finally noticed a small white tag with 8usd written on it. Surely this wasn't the price, it had to be some kind of code that they used to identify the price to the Vietnamese sales clerk.

Since there were plenty of other stores at the airport to choose from, I decided surely some of the others would have the prices marked much better. I realized my intuition was correct as I began wandering through all of the candy in the second store. I quickly spotted a bag of M&Ms and on the shelf was a clear label with the price, eight dollars. I mean come on, here I am at a duty free shop and the M&Ms are costing four times what they would in the U.S. I couldn't believe my eyes! While I really wanted an M&M, I decided these M&Ms were out of my price range and I would have to do without for yet another day.

With nothing else to do in the airport but wait, I took a seat and began reading my book. It didn't take long for me to get distracted when a cute girl sat down across the room from me. She had the look of an Asian person but for some reason, I could tell she must be from a western culture. I am not sure if it was the way she walked or the way she dressed or what, I could just tell she was not a local. Shortly after seeing her sit down, I saw her swing her backpack around embroidered in the typical Canadian fashion with a large Maple leaf. Out of the backpack came a Lonely Planet guide book for Laos and in an instant without even speaking to her, I not only knew she was Canadian but that she was also on my flight heading into Laos.

Seeing as how I was alone as was she, I decided to go for a stroll around the duty free shops again allowing myself the opportunity to take another seat that would be closer to her. Hoping that she hadn't noticed me sitting across the room already, I did a loop through all of the duty free shops and wondered who in the hell it was that actually purchased these eight dollar M&Ms in one of the poorest countries in the world. When my loop through the duty free stores ended, I took the seat next to the girl I had noticed before and realized that in my absence she had put her headphones in. Now, it is a difficult thing to strike up a conversation with someone wearing headphones and I usually tend to not even make the attempt. It usually signifies that they don't have any interest in talking to anyone else around as that is what I tend to do in the same situation. Feeling like I had failed in my attempt to meet the girl, I opened my book again and began to read.

It didn't take long, maybe one chapter or so but this petite little Canadian girl who looked very Asian pulled her headphones out and looked over at me in a perfectly clear North American accent and asked “Do you know what time it is?” Another great reason for wearing a watch I thought as I told her the time. From there our conversation started and my suspicion was confirmed that she was heading to Laos and she was Canadian. She was doing an internship for law school in Hong Kong for the summer and was meeting a guy she was friends with at the airport in Laos. I wasn't sure what “friend” meant but either way, it was nice to make a new friend who would be traveling in the same country as me and on top of all that seemed pretty intelligent.

After a short flight on a small prop plane on what is supposed to be the airline that has the worst safety record, our wheels touched down and we exited the flip down staircase onto the runway. Allison, the Canadian girl and I decided to wait together for her friend so that we could all split a cab and meet up for dinner later on. With the bags already waiting on the revolving belt, we quickly made our way through customs where we then found her friend Andrew waiting on the other side. After they hugged and caught up for a few minutes, I was introduced and we all took a cab into town and decided on a good spot to meet for dinner. I can't describe how important it is when you arrive somewhere to make new friends quickly. Having people around who's company you enjoy can make or break your first day in a new location. After eating a multitude of meals by myself on my first nights in new locations, I was happy to have two new friends to share my dinner with along with several of the local brews, Beer Lao!

Trekking through the Northern Highlands

2008-05-08T03:57:00.001-06:00

A breath of cool air! Wow, I had forgotten what cold weather felt like! I even needed my jacket at night just to stay warm. My time in Sapa, situated in the mountains of Northern Vietnam, has been long overdue. Everyday for the past two and a half months has been as hot as a day in the middle of July back home in Alabama. Combine the cool weather with stunning mountain scenery and Sapa has been one of my favorite stops so far in Vietnam.

I spent one night in the cool air of Sapa before heading off into the nearby valley to explore all of the rice paddies and minority cultures that cover the area. The trip ended up being quite spectacular with beautiful views everywhere, interesting cultures working and inhabiting the land, not to mention relaxing afternoons swimming in the cool waters of the rivers that come down from the mountains into the valley. Having seen plenty of photographs of Sapa and the nearby valley for so long, I had really wanted to visit ever since arriving in Vietnam. Now that I am here, I have to say that it is as spectacular as I imagined.

A long and miserable day

2008-05-08T03:54:00.003-06:00

I am rapidly finding out that the North of Vietnam is not quite as friendly as the South. From the time I woke up yesterday till the time I went to bed, it was nothing more than scam after scam after scam. And now, I awake with a bad headache from trying to take my mind off of such a shitty day on the road by rapidly consuming the tasty local brews last night.

It all began when I was handed my bus ticket at the guest house where I had spent the night in Ninh Binh. I had intended to travel to Halong City and sort out a boat to cruise the waters of Halong Bay for a few days. I looked at the ticket and realized they had put me down to go to Haipong, a city near Halong city, but much less accessible for what I needed. When I inquired, the lady told me it was the same, or in her words, "Same Same." She said that it was easy to get a ferry to an island and then another to Halong City. I consulted a map and my guidebook to see how easily this was done and quickly realized that the process could take me a full two days and cost me a good deal of money. Again I spoke with the owner of the guest house and when the bus arrived, she yelled something to the driver in Vietnamese and said that he would get me to Halong City, same ticket, no problem.

With the bus leaving, I didn't have much choice but to get on. I however now had no ticket in my hand and the lady handed the bus driver the 70,000 dong I had paid and off we went. Not sure of where exactly I was heading, I popped in my headphones and started to enjoy the ride. It didn't take long before the bus stopped and began gesturing to me to get off. They pointed at another bus that had pulled off onto the highway and directed me towards it. Everyone was waving from the other bus to hurry and my bus was pointing at that bus. With no one speaking a bit of English, I was stuck in a tough position. I wanted to inquire if they had a ticket or money for the other driver, but without any Vietnamese language skills I was forced to go with the flow.

I boarded the other bus which I did notice was actually bound for the correct destination and found a seat near the back. A few minutes passed and the man who collects money came around and gestured that I needed to pay him fifty thousand dong for the ride. Seeing as how the entire journey was supposed to cost 70,000 dong (four dollars), I wasn't about to pay again. With no one on this bus speaking English either, I made a few hand gestures and held up some fingers indicating that they should have gotten money from the other bus and that I had already paid for the journey. He kept pointing at himself saying that I needed to pay him. There was no way in hell that was happening. I gestured for him to call the other bus and even gave him the phone number of the guest house so that they could sort out his money. On principal alone, there was no way this bus was getting money from me.

After a half hour of arguing with me in Vietnamese and lots of hand gestures, I figured I was about to get kicked off the bus. The collection agent eventually walked off, made a few jokes about me to others on the bus and kept looking at me. He eventually made a second attempt with no luck again and finally left me alone for the rest of the journey. When we neared Halong City, they indicated that we had arrived at where I wanted to go and kindly dropped me off smiling. Amazed that I had successfully made it, I was dropped off into the usual armada of motor taxis all begging to give me a ride. I told them which hotel I wanted to go to and the bargaining began. The first shouts were for 50,000 dong. I just laughed and kept walking. The price began to drop and I said I would pay 20,000 dong. They all said no. I smiled and said thanks anyway and goodbye. Two steps later, I hear the familiar Ok, Ok and off we went.

Zipping across an enormous bridge on the back of the motorbike, I was enjoying the surrounding view when another motor bike pulled up next to us. Driving along, he began to discuss something in Vietnamese with my driver. I was pretty sure that they were talking about me and my suspicions were confirmed when we pulled over the new motor bike driver paid my driver 20,000 dong and gestured for me to switch motorbikes. I agreed and made it clear that there was a good chance I might not even stay there and I wanted to be taken to a certain hotel, but only because it was in the center of the city. I wanted to eat lunch, check the weather and see what it was going to be like around Halong Bay for the next couple of days. This was only because it was an extremely overcast day and I could hardly see my hand in front of my face. It was not the type of weather I wanted to enjoy the 1,900 or so islands of Halong Bay with.

We shortly came to an intersection with the name of two towns on it. One was the town I wanted to go to and the other I had never heard of. We turned towards the one I had never heard of. I quickly asked my driver who fortunately spoke good English where we were going. He said he was taking me where I wanted to go. I reluctantly went along with the idea. A few minutes later, I decided we were heading in the opposite direction of where I wanted to go. I made him stop the bike immediately. I argued for a bit with him and then explained again where I wanted to go. He was trying to take me to his office where I could book a trip to Halong Bay and then was planning to take me to my hotel, or so he says.

We finally arrived at the hotel where the owner was anxious to check me in and I told everyone the same thing I had told my driver who was now waiting to assist me in booking a boat for Halong Bay. I was very clear that I may not even stay once again and only wanted to eat lunch and check the Internet before I made my decision. After a quick bite to eat at a local Vietnamese restaurant I picked up my bags and walked across the street to an Internet cafe where I quickly was able to confirm my suspicions that the weather was going to be less than appealing for the next few days.

Now that I had decided that I wasn't staying in town, I needed to catch a bus to Hanoi so I walked back over to the hotel I had been dropped off at and asked how much the bus to Hanoi would be. "Ten dollars" the man replied (he claimed to own the hotel). I laughed at him as it was only a three hour journey and the only bus ticket I had paid ten dollars for in Vietnam was a sleeping bus that had your own bed, pillow and blanket and lasted fourteen hours. When I told him that, he was quick to inform me that it is different here. The road is very busy and there is lots of traffic. I again laughed at him and told him that I was going to walk next door and ask them what the bus costs. He said that it would be the same an to go ahead.

"Five dollars" the nice young woman said. "They will pick you up in twenty minutes out front and drop you at whatever hotel you want in Hanoi. It was like magic. No problem whatsoever when you talk to honest people and take a little time to sort things out. The bus ride to Hanoi was quite uneventful as I slept most of the way there. I arrived at a nice little hotel, checked into a shared dorm room and went straight for the shower. It was time for a beer and I felt I deserved it after spending the day doing battle with all of the con artists and scamming hawkers that litter the streets of Northern Vietnam.

Seeing as how it was happy hour when I arrived at the restaurant and that would be ending ten minutes later, I managed to squeeze three beers down before happy hour was over. With a slight buzz, I ordered some dinner and proceeded to make friends with a couple of people nearby. The night went on and we left the restaurant and made our way a short distance down the road to another nice spot to have a drink overlooking the streets of Hanoi.

I am not sure what time it was but it was definitely time to go. I was feeling quite good and my thoughts about the miserable day that I had were far from my mind and now, all I wanted to do was get to bed. Now all of the streets in the old quarter of Hanoi look fairly similar. I had a map in my pocket but I decided that I could find my way back to my hotel without it. As I stumbled along the streets saying no to every moto taxi that asked me if I needed a ride, I quickly found I would be needing the services of my map. Opening it up in the dimly lit street, I couldn't figure out where I was. I continued to walk to the next intersection thinking that might help but when I arrived, it was the same thing. I had no idea where I was. I began to say the name of the street I was looking for to anyone I saw and occasionally someone would point down the road in the direction I was traveling.

Now, at this point, I should have hopped on the back of a moto taxi, said the name of my hotel and gone straight home, all at the cost of about one dollar. For some reason I had it in my head that I was going to make it home on my own. I wasn't about to give up and let a taxi do the work for me. While standing at yet another intersection alternately staring at the names of the streets and my map, looking as confused as ever, I heard a man with very good English ask me where I was going. I walked over to the doorway he was standing in and told him the street I was looking for. He ignored me and asked to see my map. I don't know why everyone in Asia wants to see your map when you ask for directions. I have yet to find anyone here who can actually read one. They usually spin it around about six times before letting it finally come to rest in an upside down position as they stare intently at the words written all over it. Of course, the same thing was happening here and the guy walked back into the store or house or whatever the hell this place was and told me to come into the light so we could see it better.

I thought we could see it just find where we were and tried to say no before he walked to the long fluorescent bulb that was located on the side of the wall of the empty room I was looking into. As he further studied the map, I analyzed the situation and determined that someone would have a hard time shutting me in from outside and that this guy had better pull out a gun if he was going to be beat me in any kind of fight. The situation seemed odd but I felt confident I would come out of it ok. I needed my map back!

After walking in and finally getting the man to understand that I just needed him to point me to Hang Ga, he put his hand on my shoulder and asked where I was from. I could tell the hand on the shoulder was supposed to mean something and I shrugged him off as I told him where I was from. I asked again to have the map and the man kept talking but this time changed the subject. "I bet your pretty big" he said as the hand that was on my shoulder was now making it's way toward my crotch. Instant sobriety immediately set in and before the man managed to grab a hold of my most sacred possessions I grabbed him by the hand, twisted his arm behind his back and threw him into the wall. "Don't even think about ever touching me!" I told him as I pulled his right arm high up behind his back with one hand and with the other pressed his face against the wall. I quickly grabbed my map, released this strange man and walked out the door.

At this point I probably should have hopped on a motor taxi but I walked another block and finally realized where I was. Just a few blocks away from my hotel fortunately! I picked up the pace in case the strange man had decided to follow me and finally reached my hotel. It was a long, strange and miserable day and I was glad that it was finally over. It seems when you travel that most days are really quite amazing but when one thing goes wrong, everything seems to go wrong. I am kind of glad that is the case as it gets it all over with all at once and allows your good days to be that much better!

The DMZ and Tony's last night

2008-05-08T03:54:00.001-06:00

After a day of exploring combat bases, important bridges, underground tunnel systems and old battlefields throughout the demilitarized zone, Tony and I were pretty warn out. It was however his last day night in Vietnam and our friend Clark has sent over a twenty dollar bill to buy us some drinks for a night out on the town. Twenty dollars can by you a ridiculous amount of beer in Vietnam and we made sure to put it all to good use. At about fifty cents each for a beer, it turned out to be a pretty fun night!

At dinner we met a couple of girls, Amy and Jo and invited them to join us at our table. They turned out to be pretty fun girls and even offered to pose for pictures holding Clark's twenty with their teeth. We followed dinner with some more drinks and a few games of pool before the girls decided it was time for them to get some sleep. Still awake and with a few dollars left, Tony and I decided to find another place to have a drink. My guide book for Vietnam had mentioned that the best place to have a drink in town was on the rooftop of the Imperial Hotel with views overlooking the city. It was really late and the lobby of the hotel had all of the lights off, something that is pretty typical over here, but back home would seem really strange. We waved to the man at the desk and found the elevators and pushed the top floor. A few seconds passed and we were on the top floor. The doors opened revealing complete darkness. The only light was coming from a window at the end of the hall. We set off exploring the deserted hallway and found no bar or rooftop at all for that matter. It appeared that this floor wasn't even in use as it was completely dark and completely quiet.

After unsuccessfully finding the rooftop bar, we were determined that their was a place in this fancy hotel to have a drink. We explored a few more dark and empty floors without any luck. With one floor left between us and being back in the empty lobby, we pushed the two button and heard some sounds and saw a bit of light coming from around the corner. As we walked into the lighted room, emerging from total darkness, Tony and I found ourselves to be the only patrons of a twenty four hour casino. With electronic black jack dealers and all kinds of games in this tiny little casino, I found it quite hard to believe that I was in a Communist country. We stuck around long enough to down a couple of beers and long enough for Tony to loose twenty bucks to the electronic black jack dealer. With no luck at the tables, we decided to call it a night.

New Suits!

2008-05-08T03:53:00.000-06:00

Tony and I are now the proud owners of custom tailored silk lined Italian Cashmere suits. We stopped in Hoi Ann, the best spot in the world to have anything you could ever want custom tailored to fit you at a price that is so cheap, you almost can't believe it! I have to say that it was quite strange trying on the finished suits and looking in the mirror to remember what I looked like in a much more professional environment. In the mirror I could only see the future where the lackadaisical traveling lifestyle would one day disappear forcing me back to work in the professional world. I am doing my best to avoid that happening but unless I manage to win the lottery, I find that will be inevitable. For now, I must press on!

Easy riding through the central highlands

2008-05-08T03:52:00.000-06:00

Six days and over 800 miles of riding and we finally made it to Hoi An! That is a long way to go on a 100cc motorbike! Forgetting the fact that I no longer have feeling in either of my butt cheeks, it was an incredible trip to get a feel for how the people in the countryside of Vietnam live as well as to get up close to a lot of the battlefields and remnants left over from the terrible war that occurred over here. Our days were filled with riding through winding mounting roads stopping to check out waterfalls, old battlefields, minority villages and plenty of great Vietnamese restaurants.

As for the waterfalls, these were some of the most impressive I have ever seen. I can't even imagine what they would look like when the rainy season comes around. I don't think I have ever been anywhere where I have seen so many large waterfalls so close together. Drop after drop, each one taller and wider than the last seemed to keep appearing. Just when we thought we had seen them all, we followed a trail over a suspension bridged and were greeted by the most enormous of them all, Dry Sac falls.

After two days of exploring waterfalls and a couple of minority villages, we started to explore many of the different battle sights from the war. Sometimes, it was just a barren hill where the soil had been poisoned by the chemical agent orange that we dropped all over the place in order to kill off all the vegetation. It is sad to see that the trees still don't grow on this land today. That however is the least of the problems caused from agent orange. Everyone who came into contact with it has had deformed children. Those children our now between the ages of twenty to forty and can be seen throughout Vietnam. Even some of them who have been able to have children have had deformed children as well. It is a sad sight to see the affects of these chemicals that I had no prior knowledge of before visiting here. From a country that is so anti chemical weapons, it is horrible to see the affects and pains that continue to exist here today in Vietnam.

Along with the expanses of poisoned earth are endless fields where the local people continue to scrounge for scrap metal left from all of the artillery that was dropped throughout the country. The bomb craters can still be seen everywhere you go. Old sand bags litter the ground everywhere and all the farmers who now try to work this land are constantly pulling up more remnants of the war. We saw parts of old guns, shrapnel from bombs, old army boots and even a few bullets lying around. The other thing these poor farmers are still finding beneath the ground is plenty of land mines. It is evident everywhere you look. You can't go but a few hours a day without someone walking by with one leg, or no legs at all. Small children and adults alike are injured almost everyday throughout the entire Indochina region because of land mines and unexploded artillery.

To go along with the sad sights that the war over here left behind, Vietnam has also managed to destroy over 50% of their native forests since the war ended. It is evident everywhere in the Central Highlands where you can look at the hillsides and still see much of the land smoldering from the people still practicing slash and burn techniques. We road through barren hillsides with the occasional rubber tree farm for almost three straight days without seeing one bit of jungle. All I can think back to is all of my science classes talking about how fast the rain forests of the world are being destroyed and after traveling throughout Southeast Asia for four months now, I believe every bit of it.

Slidning down the sand dunes of Mui Ne

2008-05-08T03:51:00.000-06:00

On our first day in Mui Ne, Tony and I decided that relaxing on the beach was going to be our first priority. Walking out onto the sand, we quickly realized that there wasn't going to be too much shade to be found so we just dropped our towels on the sand and laid down to enjoy the hot sun and the sound of the waves breaking just a few feet away. It didn't take long before both of us had to evacuate the heat on the beach and go for a swim in the cool clear water. After having cooled off we returned to the beach where the process of baking ourselves began again. This time, we didn't last half as long as the first and were both back in the water. Our third attempt to relax in the sun was even shorter and for several hours we went on with the process of lying on the beach for ten minutes and then going for a swim for twenty. I don't think I have ever been to a beach as hot as this one here in Mui Ne. I am shocked that the local people have not come up with the idea of renting umbrellas and beach chairs here. I would have gladly forked over a few dollars for the chance to get out of the sun for a bit!

We finally gave up on enjoying the beach as we were both beginning to be roasted alive so we decided to rent a couple of motorbikes and head off to visit the nearby sand dunes. After a few wrong turns and various pointing by locals we finally made our way to the nearest sand dunes that were not only red but were also covered by hundreds of children holding little plastic sheets. With women waving us to park in front of their stores, we pulled over thinking we had made it to our destination when we were suddenly boarded by multiple children. Each of us now had one child on the back and one more standing between our legs holding onto the handle bars. They carried these plastic sheets that looked like the remnants of a plastic ball you might see at a grocery store for a dollar. The children were yelling that we should go to the big dunes, the white ones. Each yelling and pointing down the road in the direction in which we were heading, they convinced us to head that way.

Fighting off the attempts of other children trying to board our motor scooters, we slowly eased out onto the road and began the fifteen kilometer drive to the white sand dunes. Now, I was a bit worried about Tony driving a motorbike, especially with two children on board but he seemed to be holding up just fine. We eventually turned off the paved road onto a dirt road where we slowed down the pace to avoid sliding around. As we wound down the dirt road, we were separated from the big white sand dunes by a small lake. It was a stunning sight to see these massive white sand dunes in the afternoon sun reflected on a perfectly still lake. With the sun fading fast, we decided not to waste time taking a picture and continue on our journey to the dunes. After passing the lake, we began a slight decent where I noticed a big patch of sand on the road. Knowing how easy this can make the bike come out from underneath you, I quickly slowed down and made my way through the sand, slipping and sliding all the way through. It occurred to me to stop the bike and wave to Tony to go extremely slow. For whatever reason, I decided he would be fine and continued on.

Not long after crossing the sand, the children showed me where to park the motorbike where we could walk up to the sand dunes. As I pulled in and hopped off the bike, there was no sign of Tony. Immediately I knew what had happened. The sand had gotten him! All I could do was hope that he along with his two child passengers were ok. A few minutes passed and still no sign of his motorbike approaching. I started the engine on mine to go back and look for the remains of my friend when suddenly the children began yelling that he was coming down the road. I waited and as Tony pulled in, I could see the blood pouring from his leg and his arm. It was obvious that the injuries weren't serious so I was more concerned about injuries to the children. Somehow, Tony had managed to take the brunt of the fall and was the only one on board the motorbike who sustained injury. A few minor scrapes here and there, but nothing to worry about. He did however claim that he was finished with motorbikes for the rest of the trip. We shall see about that one!

The children led us into the desert abyss of these enormous white sand dunes. The sun was fading fast and I wanted to get some good photos so I picked up the pace a bit and managed to get some great shots of the untouched and unmarked sand dunes. It was a stunning sight to be so far away from everything and have these massive sand dunes all to ourselves. In the distance I could see where the tour buses were leaving after dropping their passengers off for a photo of the dunes but here we were standing on the tallest of them around with no footprints to be seen but our own leading back down from where we came.

At the top of the biggest dune, the children took turns with their plastic sheets flying down the hillside. It was a steep and long ride down and watching them climb back up the hill with the sand slipping beneath their feet even made me tired. After the children had their turns, they brought the plastic over to Tony and I and the next thing you know we were flying down the hill. I have no idea how fast we were going but I think it definitely exceeded the top speed that we had made it that day on the motorbikes! After struggling through the climb back up, we took a rest and spent the rest of our time enjoying a terrific sunset over the enormous sand dunes. An incredible end to another adventurous day of traveling.

Welcome to Vietnam!

2008-05-08T03:49:00.000-06:00

After spending a day on my own in Saigon otherwise known as Ho Chi Minh City, I was ready for my friend Tony to arrive. I had agreed to meet him at the airport but had not told him about how we would be making our way to the hotel. I really wanted Tony to experience Vietnam from the moment that he arrived. At the airport, I saw him through the window finally clearing customs after 27 hours of flying time. It wasn't hard to spot a 6'4" white guy walking amongst an army of small Asian men by any means so I quickly got his attention and welcomed him to Vietnam.

After fighting off the aggressive taxi and motorbike drivers, Tony and I made our way to the parking lot where our chariots were awaiting. As we approached the dimly lit parking lot, Tony asked where we were going. I said I wanted him to start experiencing Vietnam from the moment he arrived and I had arranged for the traditional form of transportation to get us to the hotel, motorbike taxis. Tony could only respond with an "Oh shit, are you serious?"

Motorbikes are the most common form of transportation in Vietnam. The streets always appear as if a race is about to begin as the motorbikes line up and fill up every inch of asphalt, not to mention the few free bits and pieces of available sidewalk as well. With our cheap plastic helmets buckled on, we off into the darkness. Leaving the airport, the traffic was fairly calm and spread out. This however didn't last very long. As we came closer and closer to the city, the weekend traffic was in full swing! With our drivers trying to keep up with each other, we weaved in an out of traffic, through red lights, over street corners and down narrow alley ways. Every now and then, we were riding alongside each other, both holding on for dear life but as we would look over, we couldn't help but laugh and enjoy the theme park like ride that we were on! When we arrived at the hotel safe and sound, Tony looked relieved to be dismounting his motorbike and getting his feet back safely on solid ground. I looked at him and laughed and could only say "Welcome to Vietnam!"

Paradise Found!

2008-04-08T03:43:00.000-06:00

I have discovered a quaint little beach called Otras beach just a few kilometers away from Sihanoukville. Crystal clear water, clean white sand and no one around to disturb you. With plenty of great little restaurants lining the waters edge complete with comfortable cushiony chairs and massive beach umbrellas, I couldn't imagine a better spot to be. That is until I met three girls from Sweeden.
I spoke to them at one of the bars in Sihanoukville one night and told them about this great beach that I had found with much cleaner and clearer water than the beaches in Sihanoukville. There was hardly anyone there and if they wanted to come along, they could join me the next day. To them, the beach sounded incredible compared to the crowds that lined the shores of Sihanoukville and decided to come along.
As soon as we sat down, their tops came off and I found myself on a remote stretch of paradise with three beautiful topless women surrounding me. After two days of this torture, I am not sure that I can take much more. While I have seen my share of topless girls along the way and spent days upon days on the beach with them, I don't think that I have had my own private beach with my own private entourage of beautiful topless women splashing in the water and strutting around the sand. As the old saying goes, if you stare to long you are likely to go blind. I am still waiting for that to happen.

Cambodia's beaches

2008-04-08T03:42:00.000-06:00

Seeing as how my farmer's tan has become quite noticeable, I thought it was time to get back to the beach. I haven't seen the beach, or at least not one that had blue skies and clear water in quite sometime now. It may not seem like a long time for anyone else but for me, being away from the beach for over two months is the longest I have gone in the past two years! After spending most of the past two months in the rainy season of Borneo and Sumatra, it was time for a change and so I headed to the beach, looking for some good food, cheap beer and beautiful women!
I spent a half hour or so looking around the different guest houses of Sihanoukville for one with a view of the ocean. I had met several people who told me that I would not find a room with a view as most of the guest houses were situated across the road from the beach with their views being blocked by the many shacks that made up the beach bars and restaurants. At first glimpse, this appears to be true but after noticing a slight hill at the end of the beach, I made my way down to further investigate. After inquiring at the small reception desk if their was a vacant room at Coater's guest house, I was shown to a beautiful wooden bungalow complete with it's own bathroom and balcony with a stunning view of the sea. At over three times the cost of my room in Siam Reap, a whopping eighteen dollars, I couldn't resist the opportunity to wake up to a view of the little strip of sand known as Serendipity Beach.
I checked in, took a shower and watched the sunset from my quaint little balcony and then headed down to the beach to find some food. As I walked along the waters edge, I was greeted by the smell of grilled meet, chicken and seafood. The beach had come alive with restaurants replacing umbrellas and everywhere you looked another sign for a beach bar b que for only three dollars. Just under this almost always read Anchor Draft fifty cents! Three dollar bar b que and fifty cent beers all sitting right on the beach. I joined a couple of people already sitting and as I sat back in my cushiony round chair enjoying my beer, I looked up to see the Southern Cross and Orion filling the night sky alongside countless other stars and remembered what it is about the tropics that I love so much.

Beng Melea- The Jungle Temple

2008-04-08T03:41:00.000-06:00

So, I thought Angkor Wat was impressive? Beng Melea is officially one of the best places I have visited in the world. A two hour tuk tuk (motorcycle trailer taxi thing) ride away from Siam Reap, my base for exploring Angkor Wat, there is a temple that is rarely visited known as Beng Melea. It is still covered in jungle with trees growing all over and on top of the walls as well as on the insides of all of the buildings. After reading about the place, I knew I had to go and only hoped it could be half as impressive as my expectations. Upon arrival, I immediately knew that it had more than exceeded my expectations. With hardly anyone in sight, I approached the crumbling entrance gate and walls and found my way into the complex through a small ramp that had been built over a portion of the rubble to allow visitor to access the inside. Within the walls, I looked on at what seemed like the set of the most incredible Indiana Jones film that could ever be imagined. Crumbling temples amongst the bright green leaves of tropical foliage every where in sight. I can only imagine that it doesn't look much different today than when it was actually discovered a hundred or so years ago.
Setting out to explore the ruins was a childhood dream come true. At Angkor Wat, you were able to explore all of the grounds around the temples and most of the insides, but crawling on top of the temples was definitely not allowed. Here, the collapsed portions of walls became staircases leading you up as high as the rooftops of many of the temples providing views that could otherwise not be imagined. The feeling of isolation, as if you had just discovered the place yourself lurked around every corner. As I sat there enjoying the solitude of a portion of the temple and studied the roots of the trees that were slowly breaking apart even more of the ruins, I couldn't help but smile as I sat there watching nature recapture the land that man had once taken away. I pictured places like New York City, long after the human race has eliminated itself from the planet. The spire on the top of the Empire State building being replaced by the trunk of an enormous tree, with it's roots crawling down the sides slowly making their way towards solid ground.

Exploring the ruins of Angkor Wat

2008-04-08T03:38:00.000-06:00

rAfter securing one of the nicest guest houses that I have stayed at in Asia at a cost of five dollars a night, I managed to spend almost every daylight hour over the past four days exploring the ruins of Angkor Wat. Having seen ruins of ancient civilizations throughout other parts of the world, I have to say that Angkor Wat may be the most impressive of them all. It is an incredible sight to see so many different temple complexes laid out in perfect geometric forms with such intricate carvings covering every surface in sight. The sheer manpower that it would have taken to move all of the heavy stones that make up these temples is hardly a feat at all when you consider the artistic talent that so many people must have possessed to create the beautiful carvings that soften the surface of Angkor
Wat. From a distance, you only notice the massive stones that make up the temples that you see but as you get closer you find the surface of every perfectly cut stone to be covered in the most detailed and intricate carvings. Some are just purely decorative consisting of intertwined shapes and curves while others tell the stories of historic battles and religious ceremonies. Many are shaped like animals that seem to emerge from the surface of the stone as if they are coming through from a different world. Others are female deities keeping watch over what remains of temples that honored them in a time now past.
While most people may be ruined or templed out at this point, I think I could spend another week out here. Forget that I am an architect as I don't believe that has anything to do with my appreciation of the site. Anyone who visits would be overwhelmed by the scale and beauty of the ancient temples of Angkor Wat. From a photographer's perspective, it is like a dream come true. I worked hard to figure out when would be the best time to visit each of the temples and avoid the mass of tourists that seemed to cover the grounds like hungry ants who have discovered their next meal. With only a few monks whom I wanted to capture in my photos, I think the only photos that I wound up having people in were the ones that cover the great distance of the approach from the front and the back of Angkor Wat. While there were usually a few other people there, the time of day and the route that I chose allowed me to enjoy the feeling of peace and serenity that you find when you are exploring something so fascinating and beautiful without the sound of the crowds being horded through by their tour guides.
Catching photos of the the Buddhist monks exploring the temples in their bright orange robes was a joy in itself. I felt as if I was stalking these peaceful men while they wandered around the temples but I found that I couldn't resist the opportunity. After first seeing the monks back in Thailand, I had hoped for the opportunity to photograph them amongst the ruins of some old, gray and crumbling temple. Finding them here at Angkor Wat was a dream come true. Sometimes, they would stop and smile for the camera while at other times they would stop walking, thinking that they were going to ruin a photo that I must be trying to capture of the ruins themselves. When this would happen, I would wave them on and again raise my lens to capture them meandering amongst the ruins. As I put the camera to my eye again, another pause. I usually wound up smiling and pointing to my camera then pointing to them and waving them on by. For these monks, the ones who had realized my true intentions, I would take the photograph and then approach them with their images on the back of my camera. With a smile on their face, they would place their palms together, fingers pointing to the air and give a slight bow. As is customary here in Asia and although I am unsure of the true meaning, I would respond with the same gesture and set out to find my next subject.

Chili's, mmm mmm good!

2008-03-28T04:28:00.000-06:00

So, I was taking some night photos (which turned out incredible by the way) of the Petronas towers in Kuala Lumpur the night before my flight to Cambodia. While waiting on the timer on my camera to fire the shot from the tripod I looked up at the towers and saw a sign for a Chili's in the window. Suddenly I started to salivate thinking about a taste of back home. I entered the mall at the base of the towers, made my way up five escalators and sat down at the bar which could very well have been a Chili's back in Birmingham, Alabama. I ordered my favorite thing on the menu, the chicken crispers and I have to say that it was one of the best meals I have ever eaten. With nothing left on my plate, for the first time in several months I can actually say I was full after my meal. I would gladly eat there again if I find myself in Kuala Lumpur. While I really enjoyed taking photos of the towers on such a stunning night, I have to say that my night out at Chili's was a close runner up for the best experience in Kuala Lumpur.

Singapore

2008-03-28T04:27:00.002-06:00

I find myself here in Singapore and can't even comprehend that a city or actually country for that matter can somehow exist in the middle of Southeast Asia. The prices are sky high on everything, I would have to say that the food and drink prices is right on par with any city in the U.S. In fact, if you could look past the fact that all of the people here have slightly darker skin and different shaped eyes, it could actually be a city anywhere in the U.S. Actually, I have to take that back. It is ten times cleaner and than anywhere I have ever visited and it has the most sophisticated, smooth operating and overall absolutely incredible public transportation system you could ever imagine. Even the bus stops have computerized boards that say what bus numbers are coming and how far they are away. While I am not a city person, I have to say that Singapore is a nice stop over for a few days to get a quick glimpse of civilization before I head off to Cambodia.

Exploring Bukittinggi

2008-03-28T04:27:00.001-06:00

I am not going to attempt to describe the details of all the exploration I have done around Bukittinggi but I have to say that it is one of the most stunning landscapes that I have seen in my entire life. Mountains, valleys, cliffs and waterfalls everywhere you looked. I spent four days on a motor scooter going everywhere I could. It is a place where the people are not only happy to see Westerners and invite them into their homes but they truly want to talk to you and become your friend. That is something I have found to be very rare in the more touristed areas of Southeast Asia and one of the reasons that I have fallen in love with Indonesia.

Thirty Hour Bus Ride!

2008-03-28T04:26:00.001-06:00

When I bought a bus ticket from Lake Toba to Bukittinggi, I was ready to move on. Knowing that the journey was supposed to be fifteen hours was obviously not something to look forward to but for this trip actually had a proper bus service and I was on an “executive class” bus. The super executive bus was about five dollars more and I now realize that I should have upgraded. Maybe you wouldn't have been able to smoke on that one? Anyway, so the bus sets off a bit over an hour after it is supposed to. Leaving late is by all means expected here so I patiently waited on the bus to show up. Now on board and winding our way through the Sumatran Jungles as the sunset, I was happy to be on my way.

It was now dark, the sun had set and we had just taken a break for some dinner at one of the roadside food stands. A bit of chicken and some rice and I was ready to attempt to fall asleep and wake up the next morning in Bukittinggi. It took a while to fall asleep so I enjoyed looking out the front window of the bus to see the densest jungle you can imagine and our driver expertly navigate roads that are barely wide enough for one car up and down the mountains on the absolute most curvy road I have ever seen. Combine that with the fact that there was a non stop downpour the entire trip and it was an incredible sight to watch, better than any movie could have been had they actually played one. There is no telling how slow we were actually going but this was like a ride in a theme park. How we didn't run off the road or collide with another vehicle I will never understand but all in all I wish it had been daylight so I could have enjoyed the amazing scenery that surrounded this tiny little road that is the main highway across the island of Sumatra.

When I awoke the next morning, I felt the bus come to a stop. We were in the middle of the jungle and I could see a few cars lined up ahead and didn't think much of it. It was just past sunrise and after a quick look around I fell back asleep. A couple of hours I woke up again and we still hadn't moved. I spent most of my morning reading my book as it was raining outside and I didn't want to soak everything I was wearing for the rest of the journey, how ever far that may have been. The rain finally began to let up and it was just in time as I was beginning to feel a bit sick from the stagnant smoke from all of the passengers on board. Unsure of what was going on, I began walking ahead to find what was blocking the road. Not too far up the road, I found there was a massive landslide that had taken a huge portion of the hillside and deposited it on the road.

Although the landslide had happened six hours previously the only people trying to clean it up were a few guys who had shovels and picks in their cars and one man who fortunately had a chainsaw to cut up all of the trees that had washed down. With a couple of hundred people watching, I was unsure what to make of the situation. After a few hours of watching the pathetic display of a cleanup, the trees around the previous landslide began to shake and everyone began screaming and pointing at the hill when suddenly another chunk of the mountain slid down onto the road. I couldn't believe what I was seeing. Just when I thought they were making progress and we would soon be on our way, the road was now blocked even worse than before.

Several hours later and I was beginning to think that it was going to be another night on the bus without food or water. As I finished the last page of my book, a bulldozer came rummaging along the side of us. Everyone on board let out a big cheer and I couldn't have been happier. Twenty minutes later and the road was cleared and we were off on our way. Traversing down the mountain we came across signs of many other landslides and trees that had been across the road which had already been cut up and moved out of our way. At the base of the hill, we came across a village who had suffered from the heavier rains far worse than we had. Every home and structure in sight had about a foot of water inside of it. For miles and miles it looked like we were driving alongside a lake with a bunch of floating houses. Strange however, everyone seemed to be enjoying the river that was now running through there homes. Children played and the adults just smiled and watched. I can only imagine that this is such a regular occurrence that they are used to living with it and just see it as a part of everyday life there in Sumatra.

Thirty hours after my fifteen hour bus ride began, we finally arrived in Bukittinggi. Tired and hungy, I found a guest house and after tossing my bag in my room I headed for a place called the Canyon Cafe that was just across the street from where I was staying. After first ordering a beer I managed to order about half of the menu and had my first meal in over 24 hours! Needless to say when I went to bed that night, falling asleep was definitely not a problem. I think I am through with long bus rides for the remainder of my time in Sumatra. It means scratching a place I wanted to see off my list but I don't think the reward of making it there would be worth all of the effort!

Relaxing on Lake Toba

2008-03-12T20:26:00.001-06:00

I arrived at Lake Toba which is actually the crater of the largest volcano in the world, five days ago. Being that this is the number one tourist destination in Sumatra, I had heard many good things about it. However, saying that something is the number one tourist destination in Sumatra may seem like it would be quite crowded. Although I have seen more westerners here than anywhere else in Sumatra, I don't think that number exceeded about twenty. Apparently back in the early 90's before a lot of Indonesia's political troubles, this place was as popular a spot to visit as Bali. Now however, there are just a few people on the backpacker routes along with a small weekend crowd that comes down from Medan, the largest city in Sumatra. Seeing the overwhelming number of guest houses, restaurants and half finished hotels here would break anyone's heart. Everything is empty and the people are so kind to you and hopeful that they can persuade you to have a meal at their restaurant or buy just a bottle of water so they can have just a bit of money. I don't think that I have eaten anywhere on the island in the middle of the lake that I am staying on where there has been another person in the restaurant with me. While having your own private restaurant could in some ways be a wonderful thing, here it is a sad story of people who have built a life on a now non existent tourism industry that has virtually disappeared.

When I arrived here, I knew that if I really wanted to relax and enjoy my stay, finding a nice guest house was going to be a very important factor. I spent a couple of hours walking around the village of Tuk Tuk where I am now based on the island of Samosir in the middle of Lake Toba. After visiting about ten different guest houses, all with a lot of character as well as very affordable, I finally made my way to a place called Bagus Bay guest house. When I asked to see a room, they took me up to the second story of a little villa and when the door opened, it was like a seen from a movie. The wind was blowing through the open windows onto the balcony making the curtains that were a deep shade of blue flutter through the air. With deep red colored tiles on the floor, white walls and the ceiling, doors and other wood work all stained a rich brown, the blue curtains, matching bed spread and mosquito net completed the picture of the most pleasant place to stay I could imagine. It had a private balcony with an obstructed view of the lake through the dense tropical foliage that surrounded the guest house. All of this for 50,000 Rupiah, or just over five dollars!

While here, it has been a series of rainy days with some intermittent sunshine. My first day here it practically rained the entire time but after the miserable bus ride down, I was glad to take some time to sit on the porch, listen to the rain and read a good book. It reminded me of my days living on board Seawanhaka when most of the days were filled with nothing more than complete relaxation. Sometimes on a rainy day aboard the boat when we weren't sailing, we would all find a spot inside and sit down and read. By the end of the day, we had all finished our books and were ready to start another. When you have the time to enjoy the rainy days it is in my opinion the essence of what traveling is all about. There is no rush to see things, they will be there the next day and as you don't have a schedule to worry about you just sit back and wait until the rain quits even if it takes a week to finally come to an end.

The next day, the morning sun was coming through my window and I knew it was going to be a beautiful day. The overcasts skies and rain that had been around for the past week or so were gone and I got out of bed and had a wonderful breakfast overlooking the lake and the steep mountains that make up the rim of the volcano that surrounded me. I rented a motor scooter to set out and explore the bumpy road of the island as well as the nearby shoreline of the lake that is connected by a small bridge on the Western side. It didn't take long for me to acknowledge the fact that I should have put on a bit of sunblock as it was only nine in the morning and I could already feel the equatorial sun cooking my arms along with the back of my neck. Ignorantly I pressed on without turning back and would rapidly begin to regret that decision.

With the roads to the South blocked by a massive landslide I took my time cruising down the shores around the Northern end of the island until I had circled about halfway down the Western coast to the town that is home to the bridge connecting the island with the mainland. I crossed the bridge and ventured up to the nearby hot springs that was on my map I had picked up back in Tuk Tuk. After paying the 1,000 Rupiah entrance fee (about 15 cents), I parked my scooter and began walking up what looked like a landslide with a series of pipes running up the middle of it where many of the nearby guest houses had obviously tapped into the springs to provide thermal baths for their guests. I soon realized that what at first had looked like a landslide was actually more a small area of volcanic activity. A stream of steaming hot water flowed over the rocks covered in white and yellow sulphuric deposits. At the end of the stream was a waterfall, pouring straight out from the rocks from deep beneath the ground. From the heat being generated through all of the rocks around me, I knew it wasn't just the warmth of the sun that was heating this place up. I bent down to have a feel of the water running down the springs and yanked my burned fingers quickly back. The water was as close to boiling as any other hot spring I had found before. I don't know that I would have braved those temperatures in the middle of a Canadian Winter, but I sure as hell was not sticking my already toasty skin into the water here today.

The hot springs were about the only thing shown on the map on the mainland including roads but I decided to risk the chance of getting lost and headed down a bumpy, not to mention muddy road that seemed to follow around the edge of the mountain that the hot spring poured from. The road at first followed the edge of the lake revealing incredible views of the nearby shores and then slowly began to climb and make it's way inland. At one point, I had brought the bike to a stop and was taking a picture of the island where I was staying when I turned around to discover a small old Indonesian woman making a motion pointing at the motor scooter and pointing up the mountain. I determined she wanted a ride up the mountain and I have to say that even though it is pretty common here to see an elderly woman either driving or riding on the back of a scooter, I am still impressed by there capability of riding on the bumpy roads without a complaint of a soar muscle in their bodies. The woman who had to be at least eighty years old climbed on the back and we took off up the hill. It only took about fifteen minutes till we reached the top of the hill where she pointed to a woman who was drying some rice in front of a little shack that looked like it must be her home. I dropped her off and she thanked me in Indonesian and I responded with Sama Sama, “your welcome” the extent of my Indonesian language skills.

The road continued to circle the mountain as I hoped it would and seemed to be leading me back to where I began. The views of the valley on the backside were incredible. The entire time I was looking down on an enormous valley with a multitude of waterfalls pouring in off the nearby mountains. All of the communities that lived in this area were traditional Batak communities that still dwell in these massive houses with enormous sweeping roof lines. If you took away the satellite dishes that seemed to be everywhere, it was like looking through time into the lives of a civilization that existed hundreds of years ago. Realistically, the only things that have changed for the people living here is the invention of electricity and the motor scooters that they all get around on. Apart from that, there simple lives as farmers, sustaining their families off of the land still continues today.

When the road finally ended in a “T” and what felt like I must be almost back to the lake but now on the other side of the mountain, I noticed another road winding high up one of the tallest mountains that I could see. Not knowing exactly where I was or if the fuel gage on the motor scooter actually worked, I couldn't pass up the opportunity to see where this road would lead. For a full hour, I wound my way up the multitude of switchbacks and turns on the bumpy road towards the top. The views along the way of the nearby valleys as well as back toward the lake and Samosir Island were among some of the best sites that I have seen anywhere in the world. While the air had significantly cooled off near the top, I could definitely tell that the sun was wreaking serious havoc on my arms and neck.

At the peak of the mountain, I came upon a sort of viewing tower and made my way up to the top. From here, I was rewarded with a panoramic view of the massive island I was staying on as well as a view in all directions of the entire crater of this enormous volcano. Along with the incredible scenery, I could also see the extent of the dark clouds that had been slowly creeping up on me throughout the day and that I had chosen to ignore since the sky in the direction I was heading was always blue. I was hoping for the “it will blow over” scenario but now sitting at the highest point for miles around, I could see the rain overtaking the North end of the island along with everything else beyond.

After enjoying the view for a bit, I decided I better make my way to the nearby town and try and beat the rain. My plan was to zip down the mountain to the town where the bridge was that crossed back to the island. If I could beat the rain there, then I could find a restaurant to sit down and have some lunch at and wait out the storm. Racing the clouds, I pulled into a small cafe just as it began to pour. I was pleased with my accomplishment and smiled that I was still dry while the rain came down around the small patio that I was now sitting on ordering some lunch.

With my meal complete and the rain pouring down even harder, I began to wonder if this was the kind of rain that was ever going to end. It's funny but I couldn't help thinking about the fact that when I considered bringing sun block with me this morning, I had also thought that it would be a good idea t throw my raincoat in my pack. No, I said, it is too nice of a day, it won't rain! Ha!, my own stupidity! I now found myself faced with a severe sunburn which I knew would turn into a somewhat unattractive farmers tan as well as the decision to ride back to Tuk Tuk in the rain. Even though we are practically sitting on the equator, the elevation of the lake is pretty high which provides for mild days and cool nights. I knew that riding a scooter here in the rain was not going to be a fun experience at all. I could only think back to how many times I had been caught out in the rain on my motorcycle back home in cold weather and found myself uncontrollably shivering by the end of the journey.

I gave up on waiting and set out into the cold rain for a full hours long journey back to Tuk Tuk. After shivering most of the way and feeling like my sunburned face was being constantly jabbed by needles in the form of sharp raindrops, the rain finally let up. I was almost back to Tuk Tuk and there was hardly even a sign of rain there! It was a sunny afternoon with a few puddles of rain left over from the rain that had passed through. Looking back at the North end of the island, I could see however that the rain was continuing and seemed to be lingering there blocking everyone's path who wanted to cross to the other side of the island. Soaking wet and as sun burnt as I have ever been, I made my way back to my wonderful little room where I found some warm clothes and applied some lotion to help ease the suffering of the pain on my arms, face and neck. I may have been in pain, but I have to admit that it was a truly amazing day filled with scenery like no other that I have scene before.

The torture of traveling by bus in Sumatra

2008-03-08T02:19:00.001-06:00

I know I have talked as if everything in Sumatra is quite wonderful but I have failed to mention how difficult getting around here is. The journeys between towns are the most difficult and miserable of anywhere I have been before. While you can probably imagine crowded buses and bumpy roads, unless you have been here, you can't imagine what it is like to be stuffed into a small van or mini bus with a ridiculous number of people not to mention the fact that there is always room for one more on board. I can only say that the short trips I have made so far on the island have been some of the most trying and difficult times in my life and it honestly makes me feel sick every time I think about the distances between all of the places I want to visit here in the future.

On my journey between Bukit Lawang and Berstagi, I began my day by walking a couple of miles carrying all of my gear through the rain to where I was able to find a motorcycle taxi who in turn brought me to the bus station. This was the only real bus I have ridden on here and was also the most comfortable portion of any of the journeys yet. While it was bare bones, extremely cramped and very bumpy, it was a virtual luxury compared to the vans and mini buses which are the main forms of transportation to so many of the remote places I am visiting here in Sumatra. It took three and a half hours to travel seventy five kilometers or about forty miles. Not so much because of the constant stopping but the roads were more like a four wheel drive path through deep muddy puddles and rocky escarpments scattered throughout the jungle.

After the long bus journey I had to switch to a mini bus. I boarded a half empty mini bus which is basically nothing more than a big van with a ton of seats inside. It is set up to have five rows of five seats plus three passengers in the front with the driver, totaling 29 people in the same space that back home we would normally have room for maybe 12 to 14. Now just because the bus was half full when I got on didn't mean a thing. In the hot tropical sun, we all sat for over an hour waiting on the bus to fill up before departing. With half the passengers smoking, the heat from the sun cooking the van and my shoulders jammed between the window and a wall of people I was beginning to feel absolutely sick. Just when I had reached the point where I didn't think that I could take it any longer, we started moving and the breeze began to flow through the window making at least the cigarette smoke dissipate as well as the sweltering heat. For two and a half hours this time on fairly decent roads we manged to cover about sixty kilometers (about 35 miles). When we finally arrived, I gladly exited the the torture chamber that the driver kept referring to as a bus in the chilly mountain town of Berstagi.

Traveling yesterday however was even worse than the previous trip. This time there was no chance of riding on a regular bus at all and I would have to make my way through three different mini bus transfers over the course of four and a half hours covering around 100 kilometers or sixty miles. Of the three mini buses I was on yesterday, only the second one which also happened to be the longest was completely miserable. The other two probably would have been worse had I not experienced an arduous journey a few days prior but I don't think I have ever been as cramped and miserable as yesterdays travels.

When I boarded the mini bus just outside of Berstagi on my way to Lake Toba, I looked at it and it seemed to be a step up in quality from the one that had almost driven me out of my mind a few days ago. They pointed me to the first row of seats where sat the two heaviest Indonesian people I have ever seen. Seeing as how I am bigger than most of the people here, it is strange to come across two people who are extremely fat and swollen to at least twice the width of my body. Most everyone else is smaller and very thin so I can see where putting five people in a row of seats is not so bad to them. As I sat down next to the heavy set couple, I was feeling a little cramped but I thought that this would be a bearable journey and I began to relax.

As the bus filled up waiting to depart, the driver made a motion to me which I soon realized indicated that there was going to be another person sitting in the row with us. I looked around and realized that there were actually four headrests on my seat instead of the three I thought I had noticed. The large couple and I squeezed in as tight as possible and made about half of a narrow seats width worth of room for the Indonesian man who would be sitting next to me for the entire trip. Without enough room for all of us to sit with our shoulders side to side, my left shoulder was digging into the middle of the back of the man to my left while the squishy arm and shoulder of the woman to my right came to about the middle of my chest. Every turn was excruciating as I we leaned from side to side with the motion of the van careening down the narrow and bumpy road. I don't know if I was in more pain or the poor man whose back was taking the full force of my shoulder digging into it along with the weight of myself and the Indonesian couple beside me.

Just when I thought it couldn't get any worse and all the seats were filled, we began stopping and picking up more people. In the front seat next to the driver was a double stack of three people in the seat and three people on their laps which completely blocked my view out of the windshield. All said and done, for me that was probably for the best as I didn't have to look at my life flashing before my eyes every time we passed someone or went around another turn. Now in the row with myself and the three other people was a man standing directly in front of me. Hunched over and holding onto the front row of seats with a cigarette in his hand, he continuously ashed on my legs and blew smoke into my face. To the left and the right of my head were the faces of two other people who were in a similar position to the man standing in front of me only they were positioned one row back. Using my shoulders as grips around the turns they pulled and tugged to avoid being tossed around as we followed the narrow road a little further down to where we could find more people to stuff in the tiny little van.

I never took count of how many people were actually in the van but at one point I would have to guess from the amount of smoke as well as the number of times we stopped and another person crammed in behind me that this van held over thirty five people. With my legs cramping, my shoulders hurting and sweat running down every inch of my body, I don't think there are many things in my life that I have done that have been half as miserable as that journey. I admit that the rewards of the places I have seen have been worth the journey but this makes me miss the convenience of having my own car back home where I have my own seat, my own music, the ability to roll the windows up and down as I please, and most importantly the right to ban smoking from inside my vehicle!

HIking Gunung Sibayak

2008-03-08T02:15:00.001-06:00

While finishing my lunch that consisted of three pieces of chicken, some french fries as well as an order of ice cream, all for under three dollars, I laughed out loud at the wonder of being able to eat so cheaply and then I suddenly felt guilty for having such a wonderful time everyday and wondered how everyone back home was doing sitting at their desks, grueling through another eight hour day at the office. I can't say that the guilt lasted to long but I ran back through the events of my day and thought about just how lucky I am to be here in Indonesia right now.

Without the sound of an alarm clock, I slowly got out of bed on a brisk and cloudy morning in the town of Berstagi which sits in the heart of the mountains of Northern Sumatra. After getting dressed, I made my way down to the small cafe at the guest house I am staying at and as always started my day off with a cup of coffee. Not only is the coffee here in Sumatra some of the best I have ever had but they also pour sweetened condensed milk in it which makes it taste even better! Sitting at a table outside and watching the gray clouds begin to part allowing large patches of blue to fill the sky, I made my way through a couple of chapters of Amistad, the most recent book I have acquired. With the cup of coffee now empty, I spent a few minutes looking over the menu and ordered a cheese omelet, some toast and a couple of peanut butter sandwiches to take on my hike with me.

With my mornings energy needs met, I took my time packing my small back pack for my hike up nearby active volcano Sibayak. Departing from my guest house just after eight, I thought about what life back home was like this time of day. The phone was already ringing and my mind was already going in fifty different directions. Here I was however, strolling slowly uphill along the path to an active volcano with no one around and the only sounds I could hear were from the steam vents that lie just ahead.

The narrow asphalt path that led most of the way up the mountain eventually ended and I emerged from the jungle into the Martian landscape that surrounds the craters of active volcanoes throughout the world. With loose rock in every direction and now high enough to be immersed in the clouds, I could hear the constant roaring and hissing sounds from the steam vents that were all around me. Hearing that there was a large vent just off the trail, I wandered off into the mist to find the source of the angry hissing that the volcano was discharging nearby. It didn't take long before I found two small holes in the rocky surface surrounded by a yellow film that were emitting a stream of steam that looked like the largest tea kettle in the world was ready to be taken off the burner. The sound was incredible. It reminded me of standing near a jet engine on a runway but about three times louder and ten times more exciting!
After inspecting the steam vents, I could still hear others in the distance but decided I should make my way back to the trail to avoid getting lost in the clouds that were engulfing the top of the volcano. Once back on the trail, it wasn't long before I reached the crater and realized that attempting any photos of the cloudy landscape would be useless so I just snapped one of myself with everything white beyond just to have a memory from the top of the volcano. I sat down with the constant hissing sounds all around me as well as the noise from strong winds ringing in my ear and ate my peanut butter sandwiches to provide me with some energy for the long journey down.

It took a while to find the path that lead down the other side of the volcano to a nearby hot spring and after venturing off onto another of the many unmarked paths, I found I was going nowhere. I climbed back up to the crater and tried to figure out what to do. I had been wandering around for a solid hour but I couldn't figure out where to go to make my way down to the hot springs. Just when I was beginning to feel a bit of defeat and was going to follow my path back down, the clouds thinned out for a bit and I saw what looked like it could be a path leading over a nearby ridge. As I climbed the ridge, I still had my doubts as to weather or not this was actually the way to go or not. This is not the kind of place where they mark trails or anything. Most trails just exist and that is why they usually want you to take a guide. For this hike however, I had gotten hold of an extremely rudimentary map which at this point wasn't doing me any good. The one redeeming part of the map was that it did mention there was a point on the way down where there were “well maintained” concrete steps. As I followed the ridge down the other side and began descending the face of the volcano, I stopped to take a look around and see if I could tell where the trail was going to lead me. With not much hope on the horizon, I looked down at my feet and found the rock I was standing on was actually a chunk of concrete! There they were! The concrete stairs! I can't say that I would call them well maintained by any means but I was standing on one and not far from me was a few more that had slid down the mountain. It looked like the volcanic activity had destroyed or at least moved most of the stairs, but this was definitely the right direction!

As the trail down got away from the exposed face of the volcano, the stairs became more consistent and became an easy to follow but long path down the mountain through the jungle. On the way down I was hoping to spot more wildlife in the jungle but was only able to locate a few monkeys in one of the nearby trees. They were a different breed than any other that I have seen before so I was excited to at least find another creature that I had never seen before.
After what felt like an endless downhill journey, I finally emerged on the edge of a small town where I quickly located the hot springs and settled in for a relaxing soak to ease my aching muscles. All alone, I sat in the hot springs and looked back up to where I had just come from. It wasn't until then that I realized that this volcano was actually missing an entire side. It must have been blown off in the most recent eruptions and scattered throughout the rocky debris falling down the side were a series of enormous steam vents shooting the superheated water into the sky to add to the misty effect that the clouds were taking on the top of the volcano. It was a beautiful sight and a relaxing place to spend the early afternoon soaking away in the steamy baths after a hard day of climbing.

Feeling a bit hungry, I decided to end my soak in the springs and make my way back to town so that I could enjoy a late lunch. After withdrawing 1.2 million Rupiah out of the atm, I found a place called Mexican Fried Chicken. The first I have seen of anything like that here but seeing as how I am tired of rice and noodles, it sounded pretty good to me. Sitting there, I began to reflect on what a wonderful day it was. The daily adventures that my travels take me on never seem to grow old. I know they will end one day and I will be back at a desk somewhere wishing I was still visiting new places but for now, that is a distant thought as there are still so many places to see and visit.

Arrival in Sumatra

2008-03-08T02:12:00.000-06:00

Phenomenal! I think that best describes my initial reaction to Sumatra, an enormous islands that make up Indonesia. Having wanted to come here for years and see this mountainous island that is covered in forests, volcanoes and wild animals, my first day in Sumatra has shown me that it is everything I expected and more. I flew into Medan, the largest city on the island but had no intention of staying there. My destination was the town of Bukit Lawang which sits on the boundary of Gunung Lesuser National Park, home to tigers, rhinoceroses, elephants, and orangutans as well as many many more other types of strange animals and exotic birds. The guide book told me that it was about a four hour bus ride from Medan and after meeting a German couple at the airport we elected to save some time and take a taxi instead.

Now I had read that the roads here were bad but until experiencing it first hand, I could never have imagined what it would have been like. The journey from Medan to Bukit Lawang was only seventy five kilometers but it took about three hours in the taxi to get there. Some stretches of the road were quite smooth and we battled our way amongst the armada of motor scooters and other vehicles plowing down the narrow streets. The rough bits however were another story. Slowing down to the speed of a brisk walk, we traversed large stretches of road that had virtually disintegrated. More four wheel drive trails than actual asphalt, the roads were in the worst condition of anywhere I have seen in the world. Many other backpackers had told me stories of how bad the roads here were but until making the journey myself, I could never have imagined.

As we left the bustle and crowds from the city the road became enveloped by the jungle and the occasional small town along the way. We criss crossed our way over the river on small decrepit old bridges and every now and then were gifted with a stuffing view of the mountains we were heading towards. The last twenty or so kilometers of the journey were by far the slowest. Sometimes villagers on bicycles were traveling much faster than our little taxi as we crept over what was left of the what had previously been a road.

When we arrived to a small parking lot at the edge of town, I asked if the taxi driver knew where the jungle inn was so that we could be dropped off there. By now, the car was surrounded by people trying to show us to the different guest houses in town. They all said that there were no roads and we had to walk from here. We reluctantly agreed and found that everyone was correct. The town was a series of paths and rope bridges that crossed the river and followed it upstream with the surrounding forest almost overtaking all of the buildings that were gently tucked away into the edges. After a brief tour of several guest houses, I made it to my the Jungle Inn, my original destination. With a large outdoor patio overlooking the river as well as the entrance to the National Park, the surrounding rooms and buildings seemed to spill forth from the jungle and down to the river's edge. I asked to see a room and they led me to a spacious room with a king sized bed, my own bathroom and clear roof panels allowing the sunlight filtered by the surrounding jungle to fill the room. Through the screened in windows that were open I could see a small waterfall pouring out of the jungle just a matter of feet from my window which poured into a rushing stream running alongside the adjacent wall of my room. No other sounds could penetrate the rushing water going past and I knew this was the perfect place. I asked how much and the man told me it was 80,000 Rupiah per night. I didn't bother negotiating as I knew the German couple I had ridden up from Mean with was looking for a room and after having such a bad experience at my hostel in Kuala Lumpur, I was glad to dish out nine U.S. Dollars for such a wonderful place!

After setting my things down in what was like a palace for me, I took a shower and ventured back outside to the porch where meals and beer were served. Sitting down to enjoy a banana milkshake, I looked out at the forest on the other side of the river and noticed a couple of red blotches on the trees. After staring at them for a bit, the red blotches began to move around and I realized that as I suspected, they were wild Orangutans. I couldn't believe that I was already seeing wild orangutans here in Sumatra and I hadn't even left the guest house. What an amazing place this is going to be to travel! I can't wait to venture into the park and have the opportunity to spend several days immersed in the surrounding jungle along with all of it's wild inhabitants!

Kuala Lumpur

2008-03-07T03:27:00.001-06:00

A day and a half was more than enough time to have a look around Kuala Lumpur. The city wasn't such a bad place to visit but from a tourism point of view, there is just not that much to see there. I spent the first afternoon there wandering around the colonial district which is filled with fascinating examples of old Moorish style buildings and afterwards I strolled through the overwhelming markets that occupy most of China town. Between fake Rolex watches and pirated DVDs, I have to admit that it is a shoppers delight. While I didn't purchase one single thing there, I found it is cheaper to buy movies in the markets as is the case through most of Southeast Asia than to rent them back in the U.S.

My second day in Kuala Lumpur I awoke early and made my way to the Petronas towers where I stood in line for an hour and a half in order to obtain a ticket to walk across the sky bridge that joins the two towers together a little less than half way up. They only give out 1200 tickets a day so I was told to arrive early in order to obtain one. As I came down the stairs inside the tower I found there to already be a short line. It was strange however to see that there were no boundary ropes to contain the line in any sort of order. As the line grew, at the direction of a security guard, it began snaking it's way back towards the ticket counter now on the opposite side that you entered the room. To everyone who came in, it now looked like there were two lines and they would all come and stand behind me as I was standing at the turn where the line reversed itself. Even though all the people in the second line were facing the back of the room instead of the ticket counter, I still had to explain to everyone who came that this was not the back of the line. After three more lines of people built up in this same fashion, the end of the line was basically shoved into a corner and the space between the first line and the wall kept becoming more cramped and cramped while the side that you entered on remained wide open. To add to this, the wall that enclosed the other side of the line was a fitness club for the building and all of the health conscious Malaysians who worked there had to battle their way through the mass of people to get to the door. I kept wondering why in a building so complex the simplest portion was designed so poorly.

At the ticket counter, the line problem did something even stranger. Just before you walked up to the ticket counter there was a small rope near a yellow x on the floor that stated to please do not stand on the x to allow people to pass through. Seeing a slightly bland corridor leading in the direction the x on the floor let to, I figured that it was for security and other building personnel to pass through. To the opposite side of the ticket counter was a small museum which I assumed would eventually lead towards the elevator to take us to the bridge. After a quick exploration of the museum, I found that it was my turn to go up to the sky bridge and was quickly led through the other line, across the yellow x on the floor to the elevator that would take me to the top. I don't know if it was the architect in me thinking but this had to be the worst arrangement I had ever seen for something so simple. You don't typically find things like this is buildings that are not only amongst the tallest in the world but also the main tourist draw in the entire city.

Along with about 25 other people, I piled into a cramped and very drab looking elevator. It felt as if we had been stuffed into a cargo elevator at the back of some garage in order to not be seen by the wealthy occupants of a building. It was strange to see as everything else in this building was so first class. At the sky bridge level we all departed and were promptly discharged onto the bridge. Looking out the window was a pretty amazing experience as the roofs of nearly every other building in the city were below us and here we were not even half way up the towers! After our ten minutes on the bridge was up, our group was quickly ushered away to make room for the next group to visit.

I left the towers and took some photographs of the outside on an unfortunately gray and overcast day. Finding a place to sit down in the nearby park I consulted my guidebook to see what else I could spend my day doing in the city. Other than visiting the top of the KL tower, there didn't appear to be much left for sightseeing in Kuala Lumpur. Combined with the fact that I was staying at the absolutely worst hostel in Southeast Asia, I decided to visit the Air Asia office and move my ticket to Sumatra up one day thus allowing me to leave the following morning.

Orangutans Everywhere

2008-02-26T03:18:00.001-06:00

As of this morning, I only have three days left here in Borneo. After figuring out what I wanted to see around my last major town, Kuching, I went ahead and booked a flight back to Kuala Lumpur as well as another on to Medan, Indonesia a couple of days later. With nothing on the agenda for the afternoon I thought I would give the nearby Orangutan sanctuary a look. While the one in Sepilok had been thoroughly disappointing, I had heard so many good things about this place that I had to stop by for a quick visit.

It took a while to figure out which bus to take to get there but I finally succeeded and made it to the sanctuary. As I made my way down the path to the entrance of the facility, I saw several trees around me start shaking. I figured they were orangutans but I would have never expected four of them to come tumbling down to the ground to welcome me to their park. Feeling a bit intimidated and as the park regulations state not to get to close, I kept my distance a few steps back to avoid having my camera or backpack torn from me and flung up into the trees. It quickly occured to me that all of the orangutans who had come to greet me were in search of food. Knowing that I had about four banannas in my backpack, I began to wonder if they were like dogs and could smell food from a long distance away. Not wanting to risk it, I found the nearest trash can and deposited the bananas and found myself able to enjoy the show before me with a much slower heart beat.

As I took a few photos of the Orangutans wandering around the concrete path, a mom and her baby who was attached to her back entered the small souvenir store. The man working there was unsuccessful at chasing them out and the mother orangutan managed to steel a small stuffed baby orangutan which she quickly lost interest in when she discovered that it didn't taste very good. Eventually the man working managed to get the orangutans back into the forest with a few papayas but they didn't loom to far and kept up a pretty good show. Two young males were wrestling nearby on the ground and every time they decided to move to another spot, they seemed to enjoy rolling to it rather than walking. Tumbling down the path like circus performers the orangutans rolled past my feet as I smiled and took pictures. You would never believe that is there natural behavior but here they were, putting on a show for myself and the five other visitors to the park to see!

National Parks of Borneo

2008-02-26T03:17:00.000-06:00

I spent the past two days visiting what I have found to be two of the most amazing places in Borneo. The first stop on my journey South through Sarawalk was a place called Lambir Hills National Park. A short bus from the nearby town of Miri dropped me off at the entrance to the park where I spent the day hiking before retiring to one of the chalets I rented there. After looking at the map and feeling pretty confident about my hiking abilities I headed out for what appeared to be a relatively easy walk through the woods to visit the many waterfalls that the park is known for. I will tell you what, was I ever wrong! What I thought was going to be a leisurely walk through the rain forest turned into a series of climbs and descents over the many hills that give the park it's name. With not much food and nowhere near enough water, I found it to be one of the toughest days of hiking that I have ever experienced. With the sun heating up the jungle and moisture from the forest floor filling up the air, it didn't take long before I was feeling exhausted.

Apart from the exhausting hiking, the 15 kilometers that I walked were absolutely stunning. Massive trees with roots spreading across the ground were everywhere you looked. Often times I could hear rustling high up in the trees that I knew to be monkeys but was never able to spot one. As for the waterfalls, each one proved to be more spectacular than the last. Clear water pouring over the edge of the jungle into a pool of deep green water below. With no one around, I was able to sit at the base of each of the falls and enjoy the sound of the water flowing while dunking my head in the water to help cool off.

The next morning after leaving Lambir Hills, I flagged down a bus on the side of the road and made my way down the highway to another wonderful spot called Niah national park. Niah is not only known for having an incredible cave system but it is also an important archaeological site where they discovered some of the oldest human remains dating back to 40,000 years ago. The morning I arrived, I think I actually didn't expect to be as impressed as I was by the time I left. I even went so far as to tell someone that I am kind of indifferent on seeing caves as they all seem to have such similar characteristics.

After a short hike along a boardwalk through the jungle, I arrived at the first and biggest cave. There were no lights inside other than the headlamp I was wearing and the occasional light from the men who were climbing high up on the walls of the caves to scrape off birds nest which are in turn sold to the Chinese as some sort of delicacy. Entering the massive opening and walking into the darkness, I could have never imagined the size of the chamber that lurked beyond. With a couple of holes in the roof and another large opening in the distance, I realized I was in a cavern that was over 300 feet high and even bigger all around. It wasn't completely open space, there were lots of different formations all around blocking you from the different parts but the cavity itself was enormous! I followed the path down along some rickety wooden staircases where I found my self in a small passage way that seemed to go on forever. I couldn't see further than my headlamp could shine and the only sounds were from the bats hanging nearby on the ceiling above. After walking alone through the complete darkness for about twenty minutes, the path gradually began to show itself in the light that was entering the back of the cave.

After leaving the main cave and exploring a few others, I made my way back to the park's headquarters for a much needed meal. The people at the park told me that it was a good experience to go back to the entrance of the main cave at sunset to watch all of the birds return to the cave and all of the bats fly out. With darkness fast approaching I headed back to the cave and arrived just in time to witness the show. While most of the bats were fairly small, the sounds of their wings echoing in the cave as they flew over my head were what made it so spectacular. Amongst the sounds of the bats wings flapping like some sort of prehistoric bird were the squeaks of the swifts that were returning to their nests inside. With only one other person nearby, it was an wonderful sight to witness at the end of another wonderful day in Borneo.

Bruneii (this is a country by the way)

2008-02-23T06:32:00.000-06:00

I wasn't sure what to expect when I decided to pass through Bruneii on my way South to the Sarawalk province of Malaysian Borneo. All I knew was that it was a quiet country that everything shuts down early in and there was an enormous mosque in town built by the Sultan after oil was discovered here. Upon my arrival, I realized just how quiet the place was when checking into a hostel, there was no one to be found running the place. After finding a phone number to call, myself and a German guy I had met on the bus contacted a man who scheduled to meet us to check in a couple of hours. In the mean time, the German guy and I headed out for something to eat. Finding one open restaurant at six o' clock at night on a Sunday in the center of the capital city was quite surprising. We were joined by a young guy who was a teacher there in the capital city who gave us a little background and answered a few of our questions.

A few things I discovered about Bruneii is that there is no crime for the most part because the penalties are so stiff. There is no alcohol allowed in the country and if you are caught with it you go to jail and have an enormous fine. Gasoline here costs about 50 U.S. Cents a gallon. There are no taxes on anything. And lastly, there is absolutely nothing to do. Everyone here seems to be very bored.

I had heard that there was a nice rain forest nearby and inquired at the tourist information center about how to make my way there. The woman at the desk kindly told me that it had been privatized and if I wanted to visit on a day trip I would not only have to finds someone to go with me but we would have to pay about 150 U.S. Dollars each! I know this country is supposed to be a bit more expensive than the rest of Southeast Asia, but that is ridiculous!
Seeing my disappointment the lady told me that there most popular tour is up the river to see the probiscuis monkeys in the wild. The 2 hour trip she offered was about 50 dollars. I thanked her for the information and walked out of the store stunned by the costs of everything here. No wonder there aren't any tourists visiting Bruneii.

I still wanted to see the Probiscuis monkeys in the wild so I decided to take matters into my own hands. It was as simple as walking out the door of the tour company, waving to a boat in the canal and asking him how much it would cost me to go on a trip up the river in his boat and see the monkeys. It would up costing me all of about seven dollars. I did split the cost with the German guy I had met, but still for the two of us to pay fourteen dollars to do the same thing the tour company would have charged us a hundred to do is incredible. Once again, I succeed in avoiding the organized tour and come out on top. I private boat ride up the river to see the monkeys was pretty amazing. Buzzing along the mangroves with monkeys leaping from the trees all around us and no one to be seen for miles was amazing.

Rain in Kota Kinabalu

2008-02-23T06:30:00.000-06:00

Rain, Rain and even more rain. Oh, and my legs are really soar from climbing the mountain the other day. /Fortunately the hostel I am staying at is quite nice. An entire floor is all open air living space with free Internet and coffee! Other than that, there is not much to see and do in Kota Kinabalu so I have become quite the hermit here only venturing out into the rain for a bite to eat here and there. That is all I have to say about my stay in Kota Kinabalu.

Southeast Asia's highest mountain

2008-02-15T04:24:00.002-06:00

I am not quite clear on why Mount Kinabalu is called Southeast Asia's highest mountain. Burma, which is next to Thailand has a peak that is significantly higher but while the country is considered a part of Southeast Asia, the mountain that lies within it apparently didn't make the cut. The only thing I can guess is that so few travelers actually enter Burma, everyone just acts as if it does not exist. Therefore, Mount Kinabalu within the boundaries of the Malaysian portion of Borneo wins the title.

After floating around in the tropics for so long, I have been anxious to get my feet back on the slopes of a mountain again and give my neglected legs a bit of refreshing exercise. While I was looking into Borneo, I read about the grueling ascent on Mt. Kinabalu and was intrigued by the description of the tough climb through the rain forest followed by a strenuous final assault on it's granite peak. With an elevation change of over 2,600 meters (8,500 feet) in just eight and a half kilometers, it sounded like a challenging adventure that I was not going to miss out on.
With the rain pouring down as I sat waiting under the shelter of a decrepit looking bus stop on the side of the road, I began to wonder if the bus I had booked was going to actually show up. Several had already passed by around the time that I was supposed to be picked up and here I was passing the time by flicking the ants off of my backpack as they tried to discover what was inside. Wondering if my bus was going to show up I kept telling myself that this is Borneo and you are in the middle of the rain forest, it will show up. An hour late and just when I was about to stick my thumb out and try and get a ride for the five hour journey to the edge of Mt. Kinabalu National Park, the bus finally showed up.

When we arrived at the park, the rain was still coming down and now in the mountains the temperature had dropped significantly compared to the tropical heat I had left behind. Not knowing where exactly to go and not wanting my bags to be further soaked by the downpour, I dashed across the road to a small cafe just outside the park's entrance and took a moment to relax with a delicious dish of sweet and sour chicken along with a bowl of warm chicken soup.
Now I had read multiple times that I needed to book my accommodations on the mountain far ahead of time but I had decided to neglect the information provided in my handy dandy guide book and try to find a better price upon arrival. While space was not an issue, I did managed to discover that everything was manipulated by the park so the heavily inflated cost of the unheated dorm beds on the mountain was unavoidable. Frustrated by the cost of two nights on the mountain costing me more than a week's worth of stays anywhere else in Southeast Asia, I pulled out my wad of brightly colored money and apprehensively handed over the cash.

Curling up for a good nights sleep before the journey that lie ahead, I was happy to have a four bed dorm to myself. I turned off the lights and wrapped up in my sleeping bag keeping the fuzzy warm hat I picked up earlier in the day upon my head. Just as my eyes were closing, the door nob slowly turned followed by a flick of the light switch and in entered three Muslim men from Khota Baru on the Malaysian mainland. I said hello and accepted the fact that I would have roommates for the night but could never have expected the restless night that awaited me.
While the three men began shuffling through their bags, one pulled out some kind of portable radio and began playing music. Considering I was lying in bed trying to sleep and this should have been quite obvious to the three men, it was strange that they would have the nerve to turn on a radio and create even more noise as if they didn't want there to be any chance at all of allowing me to sleep. Frustrated, I rolled over and gave the one closest to the radio an evil look and without any words, I was successful in conveying the fact that they should turn the radio off, shut their mouths, and go to sleep.

Several hours later I was awoken by what sounded like an angry orangutan breathing and snarling in the corner of our room. Seeing that the door was still closed and knowing that I had left the Orangutans behind in Sepilok, I realized that the noise was coming from the man sleeping on the bottom of the other bunk bed. Snoring is a common problem with sleeping in dorms while traveling. Sometimes it is just slight and you can sleep right through it while other times it is down right outrageous. Still, I can usually grab my Ipod, turn on something soft and fall right to sleep. After confirming the source of the loud noises that had invaded my room I pulled my ipod out and turned the volume up as loud as I could bare as I attempted to drown out the snoring. With Van Morrison loudly singing and my ear drums ready to burst, I could still hear the horrible growling noises as if one of Mr. Morrison's backup singers had fallen asleep during the recording session. As the ipod wasn't helping this called for extreme measures which I have only had to resolve to using once before. I reached on the floor, picked up my headlamp and walked over to the bed of the man who was disrupting my sleep. Unresponsive to voices I grabbed him by the shoulder and gave him a good shaking. With a gasp and a terrified look, he awoke staring at me in fear. I apologized and told the man to roll over as he was keeping myself and all of the animals living nearby on the mountain awake. Although the man didn't completely understand my English, it was apparent that he knew what the problem was and quietly rolled over onto his side.

After making my way back to my bunk, I put my headlamp away, zipped up my sleeping bag and just as I closed my eyes I heard the snoring begin, this time even louder than before. Defeated and extremely tired I picked up my pillow and sleeping bag and made my way into the sitting area in a completely different building where I had seen a couch earlier in the day. With no one around, the only thing I had to do was turn out the lights, rearrange a few cushions and I was able to fall fast asleep.

The next morning I paid the ridiculously high park fee, the required insurance fee, and found a couple to split the cost of the unnecessary guide with me. At the checkpoint near the beginning of the trail, I told the couple that I was going to go on ahead as they were a bit older and had informed me that they would be pretty slow. Leaving the guide and the older couple behind, I began my assault on the mountain. The first days hike was supposed to be pretty strenuous with the elevation changing almost 1,900 meters (6,400 feet) in only six kilometers. According to the guides and the guide books it should take about six hours to reach the huts. As I marched through the rain up the muddy and rocky trail I could feel the strain begin. Ten minutes into the journey and I was feeling quite good about myself as I breezed past the first kilometer marker. Another fifteen minutes and there was marker number two. Not to bad to cover a third of what was to be a six hour journey in under a half hour or at least so I thought!

The third kilometer of my journey seemed to last a lot longer than the first two. I admit that I had definitely fallen off my initial pace due to the altitude making my breath so much lighter but I would have never guessed that it would have ended up taking me the same amount of time to travel the third kilometer as the first two combined. I accepted defeat and decided I was still making good time and marched on. With my steps gradually getting smaller and smaller and my heart beating faster and faster, I began to wonder where the fourth kilometer marker was. Maybe they forgot to install it? Even now as I write this, I am convinced that they did not space the markers out evenly as it had now been forty minutes since the last marker and I still had not marked another kilometer off my journey.

The fourth marker finally came around and the fifth one came up just as slowly as the fourth. I was feeling extremely tired but at just over two hours into the journey, I was only one kilometer away from the hut where I would spend the night! As I struggled to pull myself up over each rock and tree limb, I felt my legs burning beneath me. Walking at the pace of a ninety year old woman, I finally got a glimpse of the first of the huts on the mountain. Trying to find more information about where I would be staying and where the restaurant was, I began making my way up to the hut. I could see some people in the window and out came a man to greet me. He seemed to be smiling at me as if he knew me and when I pulled the hood off from my raincoat, he gave me a strange look.

Thinking I was his friend, a porter who was coming up that morning, he had come down to say hello. He asked me where I came from and I said that I had just come from the bottom of the mountain. The man didn't believe me when I told him that I left just after eight and here I was already up at 11:00 in the morning! He asked where my guide was and I informed him that I hadn't seen my guide since passing through the gate at the bottom of the trail. He laughed at me and after a short discussion about the hike, he pointed me to the main building where I could register for my bed and find something to eat. I slowly trudged across the path to the nearby building where I found the remainder of the people who had summited the mountain earlier that morning still finishing their breakfast before making the decent back to the bottom.

With no sign of my guide, my group or much less anyone else whom I had passed on my journey up the mountain, I tore into a pack of instant coffee I had carried up the mountain with me and gladly paid my one ringett for a cup of hot water. Now I could very easily have paid for a meal plan that the park was pushing but it would have cost me about fifty U.S. Dollars! Having already donated enough cash to support a Malaysian family for a month to the park, they were not about to get more money from me. I wouldn't pay fifty dollars back home for three meals at pretty decent restaurants so there was no way in hell I would be dishing that out for some rice, noodles and a few cups of instant coffee. At the bottom of the mountain I managed to secure several packs of instant noodles, a couple of cans of curry beef, three packs of instant coffee, several packs of peanuts as well as a couple of candy bars for just under about ten dollars. Not a bad savings I am quite proud to say!

As the rain continued to come down I finished my lunch and sat back in one of the uncomfortable plastic chairs to enjoy the pleasure of reading a few pages in a book I had been given a couple of days before. A few chapters later and over two hours gone by and the first of the people I had passed on my way up the mountain began stumbling in. Drenched in rain and extremely tired, most people looked as if they might collapse on the floor before making it to one of the tables in the restaurant. The room was gradually filling with people and there was still no sign of my guide or the couple that I had begun my journey with. I began to wonder if the they had run into problems or decided to turn back when at 3:00 in the afternoon, they finally walked in. I said hello and although I don't think he understood my humor, I thanked my guide for doing such a wonderful job of showing me the path up the mountain. He told us that we would all need to be awake at 2:30 so we could begin the journey to the summit in order to arrive in time for sunrise. Having read that this was pretty standard on the mountain, I didn't bother to argue that I would probably be able to reach the top without such an early start and I figured it would be quite nice to sit on the top in the pitch black of the night while waiting on the sun to emerge.

At about 2:00 in the morning the unheated hut I was sleeping in sprang to life. Gathering up their belongings, brushing their teeth and making cups of coffee and tea, everyone began gearing up for the final push to the summit. Around 2:30, the guides began showing up and taking off up the hill with their respective groups of travelers. With three o'clock fast approaching, there was still no sign of my guide nor the older couple who were staying in the comfort and warmth of a heated room at the lodge down below. As I stood staring off the porch into the freezing cold darkness with no one left in my frigid hut, my guide finally emerged from around the corner with the older couple at his side. I said hello and that I would see them at the top and began the final assault on Mt. Kinabalu.

Not surprisingly, it didn't take long before I came upon the mass of people who were only able to move up the mountain as fast as the slowest person up ahead. Like a human traffic jamb, everyone was virtually standing still, taking a few steps every now and then as people somewhere up higher took a break from their series of rests to take a few more steps up the mountain. Frustrated, I began stepping around and off the trail to pass by the mass of people who were doing more resting than climbing. After a twenty minute climb stepping over more people than rocks, I finally emerged from the pack and got into the rhythm of a smooth and steady pace up the mountain. Walking under complete darkness I could look back at the line of headlamps making their way up the mountain and it looked as if a giant glow worm was following behind me. By now the vegetation on the mountain had disappeared and all I could see was the slippery and wet granite surface along with the rope that I was to use to pull myself up the steepest parts of the climbs. Without any trees to block my view, far up ahead, there was still the occasional flicker of a few torches shining around and I was determined to be the first one up the mountain giving me just a few minutes to enjoy the summit on my own.

With my pace moving as slow as humanly possible, I somehow seemed to be gaining on the lights ahead. After passing the first couple of groups while they had taken a break for a rest, I could see that I only had one more group to go. With one and a half kilometers left, I came over a ridge and found the last group of climbers resting on a rock and eating a couple of snickers bars. I said hello and pressed on into the darkness. Beneath a starless sky I could barely make out the shapes of the jagged peaks that were now all around me. The only thing in sight was the face of the mountain I was hanging onto and the rope I was pulling myself up with extending as far as my light would shine into the complete black of the night.

Alone and in complete darkness hanging onto the face of the mountain I found myself thinking that this moment and this experience is exactly what I love about traveling and being in the outdoors. It is a feeling that I can't explain to anyone who has never been in a similar situation but if you have been there, you understand exactly what I mean. Looking up into the darkness at the face of the mountain ahead I thanked God for giving me the opportunity to be there, said a short prayer and slowly pulled myself up the remaining portion of the mountain.

Finding myself with nowhere left to go in any direction but down, I realized that I finally had arrived at the top. As I stood there catching my breath and was about to let out a primal scream of accomplishment to break the silence all around, I heard a quiet cough from nearby. Shining my torch in the direction of the cough, I found a Malaysian man wearing an id tag and nearby a couple huddled together trying to warm themselves from the chill of the biting cold and wind that surrounded us. Puzzled, I looked over at them and could only ask “What time did you leave to get up here???” They responded with a weary “Way too early.” I remembered waking up confused around 1:00 in the morning to people walking around and doors shutting and I asked if that was them and they confirmed my suspicion. After a slow ascent the previous day, the couple feared they would not make it to the top in time for sunrise and requested to their guide that they leave early. With me still lying in bed and a full two hours before I set foot on the trail, they had already begun climbing. The whole journey up only took me two hours as it was now five o'clock in the morning and these guys had a two hour head start! My hopes of having a few minutes to enjoy the summit alone were spoiled. Looking out into the darkness however, the couple disappeared and with only the sound of the wind filling my ears, it felt incredible to be standing there on the tip of the jagged and narrow peak, the highest point for thousands of miles in every direction.

Orangatans in the jungle

2008-02-15T04:18:00.000-06:00

It's an amazing feeling to be sitting on the porch of my own private bed and breakfast tucked away in the rain forest of Northern Borneo. While there is plenty of space for more people to stay here, since I have arrived there have been no other guests. With beautiful handcrafted furniture on an enormous porch cooled by the falling rain and the slowly spinning fans overhead, it's an excellent place to immerse yourself in a book after a long day of trekking through the soaking wet jungle.

I came to Sepliok not only to visit the Orangutan rehabilitation center, but to hike through the rain forest and have the opportunity to see monkeys and wild orangutans swinging from the trees above. With it raining, as it tends to do in the rain forest, I made my way down the side of the road to the rehabilitation center to see them feed the orangutans that are living in the nearby forest. While paying the entrance fee and additional “camera permit” I inquired about the trails that I had read began there at the center. The woman informed me that I had to have a permit. I said ok and asked where I could get a permit. She told me to contact the forestry department. I said how do I do that? She said with the telephone. Seeing that this was going nowhere, I thanked the lady, paid the fees and entered the park.
Surrounded by a crowd of people decorated in brightly colored plastic ponchos they had purchased at the park entrance, an official looking Malaysian man came out carrying some bowls, a bottle of milk and a whole bunch of bananas. As he approached a small wooden platform Orangutans began appearing from the tops of the surrounding trees and making their way to the platform to consume their morning meal. With thousands of cameras focused on these three orangutans eating a few bananas, I figured it would be just about as exciting to see these apes in a zoo.

Finding exactly what I expected at the orangutan feeding show, I departed from the group and began my quest to find the trail I was told I could not enter. It didn't take long to discover the path and with everyone distracted by the feeding apes, I disappeared down the trail and took off into the jungle. Not far down the path I stopped to read a sign that confirmed that I had chosen the right path for my rain forest expedition. While reading the sign and checking my boots for any initial sign of leaches, I heard rustling in the jungle all around me. I at first spotted a pair of eyes staring at me before they again began moving. Suddenly there were more eyes and more movement when an entire family of about twenty monkeys burst from the bushes behind me and ran up the path on both of my sides before again ducking off into the bushes. Not ten minutes from the circus I was just watching and here I was finding the same animals in the wild. Such a beautiful sight to see.

As my journey continued on, I found plenty more monkeys along with various other jungle inhabitants but not surprisingly, I didn't find a single orangutan. They are supposed to be pretty elusive and quiet and the chances are pretty good that even if I managed to pass any of them I most likely would never have seen them. While the monkeys were pretty prevalent, the leeches took the prize for the most frequently spotted creatures along the way. I think I spent more time pulling them off of my shoes and pants in hopes of preventing them from their feast of sucking the blood from my body. As a rough estimation, I think I must have pulled two hundred and fifty of them off of me before my morning's trekking adventure was over. While I found the occasional one crawling beneath my rain pants, only two managed to partake in the pleasure of sucking on my blood. Tired of fighting the constant battle on the most leach infested path I have ever come across and having been successful in spotting plenty of wildlife along the way, I abandoned my ten kilometer jungle trek about half way through and returned to the comfort of my own private bed and breakfast for a nice afternoon of relaxing on the porch and writing in my journal.

Diving Sipadan Island

2008-02-15T04:17:00.000-06:00

There is an island off the North Eastern coast of Borneo known as Sipadan. Sipadan island is supposed to be one of the top ten dive sites in the world. I am not sure who designates that kind of title or if it is something that can be self proclaimed but it seems to be pretty standard these days for anywhere you go diving. Even though almost everywhere I have been has claimed to be one of the top ten diving sites in the world, I had heard so many good things about this place that I decided a day of diving there would be a great way to begin my trip in Borneo.

After an hour long boat ride zipping past all of the fishing villages around Semporna followed by houses that have been built on stilts in the middle of the shallow bay we began to get into the clear waters surrounding the nearby islands. Cruising through the shallow spots it was easy to see all of the colorful coral everywhere you looked. Turtles were constantly coming up for air while the colorful parrot fish munched on the algae that covered the coral garden down below. So far the area around Sipadan was living up to it's reputation and I hadn't even gotten off the boat yet!

The diving turned out to be incredible! I can't say that many places in the world can even compare to the variety of sea life living there. During the first dive I was surrounded by thousands of giant barracuda swimming in a school all around me. On another there were so many different reef sharks I almost swam right into several of them without even realizing it! The most amazing thing I think I noticed about diving Sipadan was not just the overwhelming number of turtles but how tame they were. Many would be lying on the bottom or resting within the coral and would let you come inches from their face without even moving. Others while swimming would come right up to you allowing you to pet them on the head and rub on their shells. Along with all of the big stuff, the coral and tiny things were so overwhelming that it was difficult to concentrate on what I was seeing. At one point I had my nose about six inches from the mouth of a moray eel before I realized he was there! Sipadan truly has lived up to it's name as a top diving destination and I would recommend to anyone who is a scuba diver to make the journey to Borneo and dive Sipadan.

I don't wan't to leave Ton Sai!

2008-02-11T02:30:00.000-06:00

Wow! What an amazing place Ton Sai has been. After enjoying a few days of diving and hanging out on the beaches with my friend Nina, she departed for Malaysia and I decided to become properly trained in the are of usin all of the ropes for rock climbing. I have always wanted to do more rock climbing but found myself sticking to bouldering (rock climbing at lower heights without ropes) as I couldn't be bothered with picking up another outdoor activity that required more time and more gear. Well here I am and it looks like I am going to have to make time and find a place to hang up a rope and harness back home as I think after a week of climbing in Ton Sai I have become completely addicted.
When I wasn't enjoying the rock climbing, I found myself lying in a hammock on the beach, enjoying the sun by day and the stars by night. A couple of days after Nina had gone, I decided to take a day off from climbing in order to stay out a little later at the bars and hopefully make some new friends to spend the rest of my days in Ton Sai with. After eating dinner alone, I noticed a group of Canadian girls who I met the night before eating at a nearby table. I asked if I could join them and after having a couple of drinks there, we all ventured down to the beach and pulled up a few of the comfortable beach chairs into the shape of a circle. As we all talked and enjoyed several beers while sitting around a small candle lit table in the sand, one of the Canadian girls began to stand out from all the rest. A beautiful blond haired girl named Christie, she was amazing to look at and absolutely wonderful to talk to. In the early hours of the morning, the group eventually broke up and everyone else made their way home. Christie and I however found a couple of hammocks and spent the rest of the night sipping on beers beneath the stars and talking about everything from our travels to our lives back home.
Even though we stayed out late, Christie and I spent the next day on the beach together and hiking to the nearby lagoon. She toughed out a steep climb and was completely covered in dirt by the end of it but seemed to still be having a good time. I knew that since she enjoyed getting dirty and being dragged up a mountain with me, she was definitely my kind of girl! Throughout the rest of my stay in Ton Sai, if I wasn't rock climbing, I was hanging out with Christie. She became a temporary girlfriend of sorts and it was nice to have someone to spend my days on the beach with as well as my time exploring the whole area. Now however, it is time to leave and Christie will be heading back home to Canada while I am left here to continue on with my journey. I am sad to see her go and will miss having her around. I now know how much more meaningful travel can be when you have someone you care about alongside you to share all of the incredible experiences and memories with.

Arriving in Ton Sai

2008-02-11T02:23:00.000-06:00

After a short ferry ride followed by a quick hop around the corner in a local long tail boat, Jeno and I waded through the shallow waters onto the beach at Ton Sai. No piers, no resorts, just a long strip of sand with a backdrop of swaying palm trees and tall limestone cliffs in every direction. My friend Jeno recommended a place to stay so we both checked in and were given the keys to our huts that were tucked up under the trees with the beach just a few minutes walk away. Arriving at the front porch of my bungalow, I found it was already occupied by several monkeys who seemed to be making a lot of noise while standing over the remains of several beer bottles that they had manged to break. After a few loud noises and some flailing of my arms, I was able to run off my uninvited guests sending them back aloft to the trees above and allowing me time for a quick shower before meeting up with Jeno again for a dinner along the beach..
Jeno and I decided to grab a beer and make our way down to the end of the beach where there was a bunch of rock climbers enjoying the last bits of daylight for some difficult climbs underneath an enormous overhanging rock face. As I approached the face of the rocks, I noticed the face of someone who looked familiar. Standing on the beach, enjoying the show that the climbers were putting on was my friend Nina who I had met in Ecuador! I knew she was somewhere in Southeast Asia, but couldn't believe that I managed to bump into her again on the other side of the world! It's always good to see a familiar face somewhere so far away from everything you know and I was excited to have the opportunity to catch up with her and hear about everywhere she had been since I last saw her.
Nina, her friend Michael and I along with Jeno decided to have dinner at one of the little beach bars we had passed that was advertising free bar-b-q. We took a spot not far from the water on some of the large cushions that had been laid out on colorful grass mats surrounded by small flaming cans providing just enough light so that we could barely make out whatever it was that we would be eating. With Reggae music being played in the background we sat back and enjoyed a delicious portion of food from the grill and washed it all down with several cans of Chang, the local Thai beer. Even though this was my first night in Ton Sai, I could already see what an amazing place it was going to be and I was looking forward to spending many more nights on the beach here looking up at the stars and enjoying the cheap food and cold beer.

The island from "The Beach"

2008-02-11T02:18:00.000-06:00

After leaving Phuket, I spent a few days relaxing on the island of Phi Phi Don and visiting the nearby island of Phi Phi Ley where the movie “The Beach” was filmed. Both were incredibly beautiful islands with steep limestone cliffs, white sandy beaches and clear water. While the main attraction here was a tough day of sitting on the beach followed by a few sundowners at one of the beach bars, the atmosphere however was still not quite what I was looking for. There was an overwhelming number of people trying to sell you tours to visit all of the other islands as well as the cost of everything was nearly double what I had seen throughout the rest of Thailand. While I enjoyed my days on the beach and seeing the amazing island of Phi Phi Ley, I felt like there had to be a place that was a lot more laid back and definitely further off the main backpacker circuit so I kept looking.
Staying next to me in another bamboo bungalow was a South African guy named Jeno. His consensus about Phi Phi was the same as mine. It was just too overdone and way too expensive. He told me he was heading back to Ton Sai which I had never heard of and after finding that it wasn't even in my guide book I was intrigued to hear more. Jeno's description was that Ton Sai was a small little beach with steep cliffs on both sides, there were a few places to stay and some nice bars on the beaches. Most of the bars were quiet with good music, hammocks and small cushions sitting right on the sand. Along with the laid back atmosphere, Ton Sai was also the place that rock climbers from around the world visit Thailand for. This sounded like my kind of place and I wanted to know more. The next day, I packed up my bag and Jeno and I jumped on a boat and headed for Ton Sai.

Riding Scooters to the beaches of Phuket

2008-01-31T06:39:00.001-06:00

Motor scooters are by far the most popular way to travel throughout most places in Southeast Asia. Having met a Vietnamese couple named Lamb and Mimi at the guest house the night before, we all decided to set out early the next morning and take our chances of navigating the busy roads of Phuket by motor scooter. After paying 150 baht (about five U.S. Dollars) for a couple of beat up little motor scooters, we eased out into the traffic of the main town on the island with hopes that the streets would be a bit quieter and safer once we arrived at all of the world renowned beaches that Phuket is so famous for.

Even though I have been riding motorcycles for the past sixteen years, I was terrified about riding this tiny little scooter on the busy roads filled with motor scooters, cars and trucks all ignoring the stripes on the highway and the other vehicles surrounding them. Hugging the side of the road as cars passed by, I gradually got the feel of the scooter and realized that the brakes weren't much better than just dragging my feet along the asphalt in an attempt to stop. After finally making it out of town, the traffic died down and we began winding our way around the steep coastline of the island. We stopped at a couple of decent but dirty beaches on the south end of the island,snapped a few pictures and made our way up the coast to the first of a series of beaches that are supposed to be absolutely amazing.

In a crowded little beach town, Lamb, Mimi and I parked our scooters amongst about five hundred others and ventured down to the sand for a little time in the sun as well as a swim in the clear waters. As we penetrated the barrier of beach umbrellas and found one of the few bits of remaining sand that we could see, we found a place to set our towels and bags down and attempted to relax on the beach for a couple of hours. While Lamb went into the water, I grabbed my camera and took a walk down the coast to photograph a few of the traditional Thai long tail boats that were sitting along the shore. Navigating my way through the crowded beach, I realized that most everyone there was not only old, but extremely overweight as well. Most of them appeared to be European couples but mixed in with the vacationing retired couples were a series of white men toting one or two young Thai girls. I had seen this plenty of times in Bangkok, but I just figured they were with them for the night or whatever. Here, it is apparently pretty popular for men to come over and pay a couple of girls to spend the week with them and fulfill their every desire.

After taking a couple of photos and becoming more and more disgusted with the crowded beach, Lamb, Mimi and I grabbed some lunch and headed to the next beach in hopes of finding something a little more peaceful. As we approached the next beach up the coast, the brightly colored umbrellas were seemingly endless. Thousands of sunburned faces walked the streets while I couldn't even see the water through the endless sea of people who were swarming in every dircection on the beach. Without even slowing down, we passed the beach by and kept on moving North.

We went over a couple of more hills and made our way further North to the last of the beaches that had not been taken over by massive private beach resorts. Hoping to find something a little quieter and less crowded, we were again disappointed to find the same thing. I couldn't imagine all of these European tourists coming this far to packed into a small beach with thousands of other people all burning in the tropical heat. There has to be closer places that are even more beautiful than the beaches I have found on this island. When I had set out in the morning, my original plan had been to explore the different beaches for the day and decide which one to stay at for a few more. With our beach circuit complete, the plan had now changed. I was going to return my scooter and by a ticket for a boat the next morning to take me as far away from this island as I could!

A night bus to Phuket

2008-01-31T06:38:00.001-06:00

Often finding the need to travel across vast distances in order to reach a new destination, I have always found so many advantages in taking a night bus to get there. There is of course the obvious benefit that you don't have to pay for a place to stay that night offsetting the cost of a room with the cost of the bus ticket from your daily budget. Also, it gives you the ability to be transported between one place and the next from the comfort of your sleep giving you more time to do and see the things you want while not taking up daylight hours with a seemingly endless journey. Lastly and probably the most important benefit is that you can't see where the bus is going. You close the shades, turn on your ipod and fall fast asleep in hopes that the driver will manage to keep the bus on the road and you won't wake up tumbling down the side of a cliff or drowning in the bottom of a lake.

I decided to travel to Phuket, an Island off the West coast of Thailand after getting tired of the smog filled air of Bangkok. After purchasing a ticket and getting my things together, I arrived at a small tourist agency where I was to wait for the bus. Two hours later and several miles of walking around town with the bus operator myself and about forty other backpackers, we finally boarded a brightly colored double decker bus that would take us on our journey South throughout the rest of the night. Almost everyone was heading to different places which meant that there would be several stops throughout the night to interrupt my sleep on board. I was still half awake when I heard the familiar Thai accent of the bus driver shouting the name of our first stop. Shouting out the strange name of a city I had never heard of he walked up and down the aisle startling everyone on board. After quickly rushing a few passengers off to their stop, the lights went off and the bus started off again while I laid back down to try and get some more sleep.

Another couple of stops and I finally had the opportunity to fall fast asleep. Dreaming of the beautiful beaches that I was heading for, I was suddenly awoken by people shouting in a language that I didn't understand. An endless series of shouts from a couple of loud and angry Thai men came flooding up the stairs from down below. At first, I thought it was two passengers arguing amongst one another but I quickly realized that it was actually the bus driver and the other man that was working on board organizing our luggage and letting everyone know when their stop had arrived. As the shouting continued, I could only imagine what it was they were fighting over as we barreled down the highway at two o' clock in the morning. With everyone now awake and a bit afraid that a fight was going to break out causing our bus to careen off the highway, we all fearfully listened to a series of angry words that we couldn't understand.

A half hour after it began, the shouting stopped just as fast as it started. While finding it strange to be on this bus here in Thailand and wondering what the fight could have been over, I realized the strangest thing about the whole situation was the fact that the two men who were arguing never attempted to speak over the other one. It was almost as if the whole act had been practiced and rehearsed for a scene in a movie. Each man would stay quiet until the rantings and ravings of the other one had finished. It was almost as if it was a crime punishable by death to attempt to shout over the voice of another while you were in an argument with a man driving a bus.

Around five in the morning, the lights flicked on and one of the men who had been arguing came yelling throughout the bus that it was time for everyone to get off. “Quickly, Quickly, everyone off!” he yelled as we all, still half asleep, attempted to gather up our belongings and evacuate the bus. Sitting at a small roadside cafe with the twilight of dawn in the sky above, we were all unsure of where we actually were or how we would make it to our various destinations. The drivers assistant told us in his broken English that we would be taking small pickup truck like taxis to a different place where we would then board mini buses to take us to our final destinations. We had a couple of hours to wait in between so we had time to order food if we wanted.

A girl sitting nearby me decided she would have something to eat and started digging in her backpack that had been stored down below on our journey down. Looking in her bag, she realized that someone had gone through it. The small amount of money she had in her bag was gone and everything had been moved around. At the same time, I overheard a couple of guys nearby saying that someone had gone in their bags and one of them was missing a watch. Not really concerned about my bag as I don't keep much of anything in it, I took a closer look and found that my zippers were fastened in a completely different manner than the way I had left them. Other people discovered the small padlocks that they had on their bags had been broken off. It was pretty apparent now what the argument that we heard the night before was about, who was getting what and how much of all of our stuff!

Unable to confront someone who doesn't speak much English in a semi delirious and extremely tired state on the side of the road somewhere unknown in Southern Thailand, we ignored the petty theft of the driver and his companion and boarded our small trucks to our various destinations. Six hours later and another ten stops riding in the back of a cramped mini van and I was finally in Phuket. Tired but alive, I was happy to be there. A miserable experience of a journey and knowing that someone had attempted to rob me but couldn't find anything worth taking out of my back pack, I have definitely learned my lesson about the do's and don'ts for future night bus journeys in Thailand.

The Sreets of Bangkok

2008-01-31T06:36:00.000-06:00

A couple of days before leaving for this leg of my journey I finally took a minute to review my flight itinerary. As I glanced through the cities, Dallas, Tokyo and finally arriving in Bangkok, I realized that I didn't arrive until sometime around midnight. Without a place to stay in such a chaotic city, I was definitely feeling a bit overwhelmed with the thought of riding around in a taxi during the middle of the night and trying to find a hostel that would be acceptable to stay at for a few days. The biggest fear was not so much the ride or dealing with a taxi driver that did not speak English, but of the encounter I might have if I found the hostel I chose to get dropped off at without space, leaving me to walk to streets of such a foreign place with everything I own within ten thousand miles strapped to my back.

I arrived at the front of a small alley and the taxi driver pointed down the way saying that my hostel was down that way. The first thing I noticed was that even though it was now almost two in the morning, the streets were alive with people walking around, eating, drinking and laughing. Not to say that this is by any means more comforting to me, I mean who knows what kind of people these are on the streets? Maybe they hate Americans? Maybe I am in an area which is known for violent crimes? I really wasn't sure what to expect.

As I made my way down the alley, I was followed into the hostel by another backpacker who had just flown in as well. I told the woman at the desk that I needed a room as did the other guy standing next to me. With fate on my side having walked in the door just moments before the other backpacker, I managed to get the last room the hostel had to offer! As I watched the other guy turn away and walk to another hostel across the street only to be denied a room there as well, I was thankful to have the opportunity to lie down after such a long day of traveling.

After a couple of days of exploring Bangkok I realized that all my fears and worries on the night of my arrival were all in my head. The Koh San road area that I am staying in is an oasis of white faces amongst an overpopulated city of Southeast Asians. At all hours of the day, people are walking the streets going from one place to the next. Vendors line the sidewalks selling everything from fake student cards (I am now a 21 year old student at Auburn University) to roasted insects in a variety of flavors. While motorcycle taxis follow you around offering to show you the city, women bombard you from their storefronts with offers of cheap massages and at night, men approach you holding cards with pictures of half dressed women saying “You want to see ping pong show?” You can use your imagination to figure that one out! Bangkok is an amazing spectacle to see. It is filled with the incredible excitement and chaos that I expected from a world renowned city that caters to travelers providing them with cheap hotels, cheap food and most importantly cheap beer!

Into the Outback

2007-11-26T01:19:00.001-06:00

Roaring down a single lane dirt road on a big red bus, I look out the window to see the heads of kangaroos popping up from small patches of shade provided by the few gum trees scattered throughout this barren environment. Families of emus are walking in every direction looking for their next source of water in a sea of red sand that extends to the horizon. With a cloud or red dust flying behind, I am heading into the red center of Australia for a week. On a previous trip to Australia, I found the outback to be my favorite part of the country and wanting to visit Uluru again in hopes of taking that perfect sunrise photo, I bought a ticket on a bus that makes the trip from Cairns to Alice Springs stopping at enough spots along the way to get a good feel of what life in the outback is all about. While the flight would have cost the same as the bus ticket, I am a firm believer in the old saying of the journey is more important than the destination.
Shortly after departing Cairns we passed through a highland area known as the tablelands that was once covered in lush tropical rainforest. Here in Australia, the rainforest has long since been destroyed, replaced now with rolling green pastures dotted with black and white dairy cows. The moist environment didn’t last long because just over an hour outside of Cairns we began the slow decent down the Western side of the great dividing range creating an immediate change in the rolling green hillsides. The soil changed from a rich black to a dusty red and the pockets of lush tropical vegetation yielded to scrubby patches of dry grass scattered amngst countless white gum trees.
Our first stop along the three day journey into the desert was at a beautiful waterall known as Millstream Falls. The last source of running fresh water on the journey into the desert, the falls have played an important part in the history of Australians making their way into the outback. After a short hike, a few photographs and an unsuccessful hunt for snakes, I borded the bus and we headed on down the road. Not long after getting underway, the smooth pavement we had been travelling on so far ended leaving us on a single lane dusty red road. While throughout the thousand mile journey we would pass a few patches of rough asphalt, most of the travelling from this point on would be on unsealed roads.
As my stomach began to rumble, the bus started to slow down. Strangely enough, out in the middle of nowhere, we came upon a small building that looked like nothing more than a house. A sign outside revealed this house to be The Oasis Roadhouse and it is known througout the country as the smallest pub in Australia. With little seating room for more than a couple of people, it is more like someones living room than a real pub. I washed down a few sandwiches with a pint of four x bitter and was now feeling like I was really getting to see what life in the outback was like.
With one more stop in the afternoon at a miniature version of the Grand Canyon known as Porcupine Gorge, we made our way on to our final destination for the first day, the town of Hughenden. I don’t understand how a town like this can survive out here in the outback. There is really no reason for anyone to come and visit and the only industry in the area is the cattle stations which employ just a few people but are the size of many small countries! After taking a few minutes to explore around town and discovering nothing more than a few sculptures of dinosaurs that had been found in the area, I made my way to the pub at the small hotel we would be spending the night at. I am starting to remember how much Australian life revolves around drinking as every small town has at least one pub and I find myself stopping to investigate every one of those. After ordering my first beer and finding it strange to hear country music being played not to mention everyone in the bar singing along, I noticed an old man arguing with the bar tender. I am not exactly sure what the circumstances were behind the conversation but it was pretty appareant that the old man was drunk and the young bartender wasn’t going to serve him any more drinks. Now, keep in mind that the sun still hasn’t set yet so this guy must have gotten started pretty early. After being asked several times to leave, another man decided to step in between the two and try to persuade the old fellow to head on home and sleep off his alcohol for the evening. Now even more enraged the old man decided to take both hands and slap the other gray haired man on the sides of the head. With a slow swing of the fist, the gray haired man sent the old man crashing to the ground. Now I feel like I am getting to see the real Australia!
At the beginning of the second days journey, the landscape beacme a flat plain of dry grass. There were no longer any trees or hills, just dry grass in a bed of red sand in every direction. We made our way through the unchanging landscape until we were on the Carisbrooke cattle station. Here we had the pleasure of enjoying a short hike into Python Gorge where the walls are covered with ancient aborigonal rock art. Being told that the gorge had been so named for it’s large numbers of pythons, I set out flipping over every rock I could find and inspecting all of the shady spots to find one of these snakes. While I managed to disturb several kangaroos, I was once again unsuccessful in finding any snakes!
In the afternoon, we again stopped at another small pub. This one was known as the Middleton pub. Middleton has a poplulation of six and I think that includes the dog! While everyone made their way into the pub for a beer, I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to take a few photos of this place. Bits and pieces of every kind of rusty old debris were scattered around the pub along with an aging old abandoned house. Against a deep blue sky covered in patches of puffy white coulds, the old house and bits of debris made amazing subjects for some Aussie style outback photography. After snapping away in the heat of the desrt sun, I made my way to the pub to join the rest of the passngers in the traditional Australian way of cooling off, an ice cold pint of beer!
Now close to the border of the Northern Territory, our day ended watching a beautiful sunset on the red sand stretching across the endless horizon at the Wirrelyerna cattle station. Enjoying the company of a pet kangaroo who drinks coffee at breakfast and washes down her dinner with a bowl of ice cream, it was a wonderful night spent enjoying the star filled sky after a dinner prepared on the camp fire. After most of the other passengers of our expedition into the outback had gone to sleep, myself and a couple of friends wandered out into the desert in search of what are known as Min Mins. Known in this part of Australia for thousands of years before white men arrived, Min Mins are these balls of light that the aborigonees believed would steal there children from them. The lights would appear and the children would follow them into the bush never to be seen again. Kind of like an Aussie version of Roswell, the area is known for it’s sighting of the Min Mins and even has an entire information center dedicated to them. After a half hour of standing out in the desert with no lights other than the thousands of stars that lit up the sky we gave up our search and slowly made our way back to the station.
Without any luck in the search for a Min Min, I retired to my sleeping bag that was laid out under the stars. With Mary the kangaroo nosing around throughout the night, I lay in my bag staying awake as long as possible to enjoy the shooting stars that zipped across the horizon every few minutes. When dawn came I was abruptly awoken by the generator on the station starting up. It was perfect timing to see an incredible outback sunrise over an old barn and windmill. The colors of the morning sky with the shilouette of a windmill on the horizon made for one of the most incredible sunrises that I have ever seen.
Our final day of driving to Alice Springs was probably the most remote portion of the trip yet. After not seeing another vehicle for nearly three hours we finally entered the Northern Territory. Our first stop of the day was to check out a termite mound that stood about twenty feet high. Everyone had there turn at taking a photo of the large pile of mud and I inspected all of the nearby bushes for signs of snakes. Three days now in the outback and still not a single snake spotting! From the termite mound we moved on to another cattle station to have lunch followed by a long drive to Alice Springs. About fifty miles outside of town we finally got our wheels back on consistent pavement. Bumping along the dirt roads for the last three days was really starting to take its toll on everyone. The frustrating sounds of a vibrating bus and the continuous shaking of your book when you trying to read was definitely getting annoying. The smooth hum of the bus over the black pavement was a welcome sound. It is sad to be ending this portion of my journey as the remote portions of the outback that we have just seen are visited by so few tourists. The town of Alice Springs while culturally important takes on the feel of a touristed town anywhere in the world. Souvineer shops and tour booking signs everywhere. While yes, I am hear to take a tour of the amazing nearby sights, the places I have just come from were just as incredible and here in Alice Springs I will fortunatlely not see a sign for a tour bus to take you there! While it was a long and slow journey, the rewards of seeing the outback in it’s unspoiled form I will have with me forever.

Waterfalls and too many tourists!

2007-11-09T06:54:00.001-06:00

What a strange place to be! Coming from the remote islands I have been in for the past six months, everything here seems like a giant version of Disney World. When I was here seven years ago, I knew that there were several water falls in the area that were supposed to be quite beautiful. They were all in an area known as the tablelands, a bucolic farm land that sits atop the small mountain range near Cairns. While there are plenty of opportunities to pay a tour company to take you to see them, I can’t imagine paying for a tour to a group of waterfalls. In the islands, all I had to do if I wanted to see a waterfall was ask any local if there were any nearby and of course in Papua New Guinea there always were. After that, I just had to ask someone to take me. They always gladly accepted without asking for a thing. Hacking our way through jungles with an armada of people following along, we would make our way to some of the most amazing and remote spots that anyone has ever seen. Having a week in Cairns before heading back to California, Elina was excited about seeing a bit of Australia. After spending a month on the boat, she was now staying at one of the nearby hotels. Early one morning when Yiannis and I were still trying to figure out how we got home the night before not to mention what happened to all of our money, Elina came to the boat. She was on her way to rent a car and wanted to know if we wanted to chip in and spend a couple of days seeing the area around Cairns. We both thought that sounded a lot better than paying a tour company and off we went! Our first day in the car we visited a nearby group of waterfalls called Crystal Cascades. Following the handicapped accessible path, we were able to make the short walk all the way to the top of the falls before deciding on which one of the many pools to have a swim in. With families and Japanese tourists covering most of the pools, this didn’t exactly look like the place for us. Leaving Crystal Cascades, we headed up the Captain Cook highway towards our next stop, Mossman Gorge. The drive followed the coastline past a series of beautiful beaches without a sole on them. While the beaches in Queensland are absolutely breathtaking, you can’t get in the water here. Crocodiles show up in a lot of places and during the rainy season which we have just entered, the box jelly fish inhabit all of the coastal waters. As the box jelly fish can kill you, not many people choose to swim alongside them, especially me! Mossman Gorge was as beautiful as I remember it from my first trip here. Situated in the middle of the rainforest, the heart of the Gorge is a clear stream with White Granite Boulders protruding from the water just begging to be photographed. While there were a few people swimming here, the short trail followed alongside the water was definitely not handicap accessible. Winding through an amazing stretch of rainforest, we saw wonderful lookouts to the stream below as well as incredible trees that are found only in this part of the world. With the end of the day rapidly coming to a close, we hopped back in the car and headed back toward Cairns. Our second day’s journey in the rental car took us into the Tablelands where all of the tour companies were taking people on what is known as the waterfall circuit. After a steep and winding climb to the top of the mountains we came to a lookout where we decided to get out of the car. It was very hot and very dry. Scrubby forest and brittle soil was everywhere to be seen. With lots of haze in the dry and dusty sky, I didn’t even bother with a photograph. Pressing on in our journey, we came to another turn and suddenly we had entered a completely different ecosystem. Lush tropical foliage and rich black soil were covering everything. The air was clear and our first stop in the car would reveal that the temperature had dropped quite significantly! I have never seen a change in the environment like this anywhere in the world. Our drive continued on into the heart of the tablelands. At one time the entire area was covered in rainforest. Now, there are only small pockets of the virgin forests left. Most of the wood was cut down long ago. Now the area is a series of dairy farms that blanket the landscape. If you can look past the fact that the rainforest was chopped down to give this area the character that it now has, it is an incredibly beautiful place to be. Rolling green hills dotted with black and white cows all resting underneath a blue sky with puffy white clouds slowly drifting by. The entire area makes you feel like civilization just doesn’t even exist. It is a land that feels like you are somewhere in medieval Europe making your way across the landscape between small villages and towns. Our journey led us to a couple of small towns along with two stops at fig trees that were over 500 years old. A fig tree is actually a vine that starts as a seed dropped on a tree by a bird. It then sprouts and begins reaching it’s roots down toward the ground until they take hold. Eventually, the whole tree is strangled by the many roots that begin to grow and the fig becomes the tree itself. The two trees we saw were incredible labyrinths of vines twisting in and out in every direction. A prehistoric looking sight, it is strange to think that these trees were still standing long before any white man had set foot on the shores of Australia. Reaching the waterfall circuit, I was suddenly reminded of the strange ease in accessibility that Australia provides to so many of it’s tourist attractions. Rarely do you find a series of trailheads in the parks here. Most of the sights around, you can drive your car right up to the edge of. It is a retired man’s dream! He doesn’t need to be in good shape to see any of it. You just pull up your car and after a maximum two minute walk you can take a picture and move on to the next destination. There are even toilets, trash cans and concrete viewing platforms for your convenience. It is really all quite disappointing. They have taken a group of amazing natural wonders and turned them into miniature theme parks. Half of the reward of seeing so many things in life is the actual journey to get there. Seeing the world shouldn’t be that easy. Some of these sites actually look better in the photographs than they do in person. The photos never show the metal toilet buildings built alongside or the concrete basins that surround their edges. Feeling overwhelmed by the mass tourism chaos in Cairns, I am looking forward to spending some time amongst the more remote places that lie just beyond the reach of the tourists who flock to Cairns for a chance to see the Great Barrier Reef.

The Passage to Australia

2007-11-09T06:53:00.004-06:00

A day before we left Papua New Guinea, I was explaining to Yiannis how we would need to wear harness’s while we were on watch. Also, I informed him that he wouldn’t be allowed nor would he need to venture towards the bow of the boat. If anything needed to be done up there, Bill or I would take care of it. Explaining that the harness’s were just a precaution in case a big wave swept over you while you were on watch, Yiannis seemed to have a hard time grasping what the open ocean was going to be like. Yiannis looked at me and said “I don’t see how you could get thrown out of the cockpit. You are surrounded by the boat and you would have to fall a long way to actually make it overboard.” I responded to him “Just wait and you will see.” After passing over our last navigational challenge in PNG, a sunken barrier reef, the swells of the open ocean began to engulf us. Just a couple of meters high to start off the journey along with a consistent twenty five knot wind and it was looking like it was going to be a relatively fast and easy journey home. As Bill finished his shift, the first of our watches, I volounteered Yiannis to go next. The only reason I suggested we put Yiannis on at that time was that it was daylight and he could get some experience sailing in the increasing swells while there was still light. Elina and Bill had some kind of argument and it was just going to be the three of us doing watches for the journey home. With the sun setting, I relieved Yiannis of his first watch and took over steering. While on watch I could see the swells growing larger beneath the bright moonlight. The wind had increased to thirty knots and when Bill came out to relieve me, I told him that if the boat was doing anything under nine knots, it was going slow! With the boat racing across the waves and Bill at the helm, I happily laid down in my bed for a few hours of sleep. I awoke at midnight and emerged from below into the cockpit. There I found Yiannis with eyes the size of oranges looking like a crazed lunatic, his long hair dripping with water. All he could say was “Man this is crazy!” The swells now were even bigger, some being as much as fifteen feet high at times and the wind was still howling. We were loosing a bit of our course but with the speed we were making, we would worry about making up the direction whenever the winds shifted direction. Taking the helm from Yiannis, he slowly and carefully unclipped his harness and headed down below. The next morning, we were still getting beat up by the enormous swells. Getting dressed to come out for my first watch I heard Bill start cursing something outside. I came outside and asked what was going on. He said that he had just buried the bow into a swell and ripped off a chunk of the gunnel, a wooden member of the boat on the bow. Appareantly he had misjudged an enormous swell and the bow had buried itself about ten feet under the water. When it came back up, the water rushing over it peeled back one of the boards and broke it in half before dragging it out to sea. When I asked how the watches went last night, Bill said everything was fine. When Yiannis had shown up to do his first night watch however, Bill told him that he just couldn’t leave him alone out there to steer the boat so he would just take over his shift. The swells at that time were consistently twelve to fourteen feet with the occassional one being even bigger. Combine that with the boay sailing through the swells at ten and sometimes eleven knots, he just couldn’t let him do it. Yiannis reponded with a bold cry of “Let me try! I have always wanted to steer a boat through crashing waves in the open ocean! I can do it! Let me take the watch!” Appareantly Bill couldn’t say no to the passion of this Greek man. At the end of the night, everything was fine and Yiannis had done an excellent job of cruising through the waves. It must be the seafairing blood that runs in the Greeks because sailing the boat in those conditions for someone who has as little experience as Yiannis is a very difficult task. I have a feeling he will be doing a lot more sailing in the furture! Yiannis awoke and recapped the story for me again, but he also said he now understood why we wear a harness. Throughout his night watch he was constantly checking to make sure that the harness was secure on his chest as well as properly clipped to the boat. After having several waves had crashed over him, he said he must have checked to make sure he was hooked in correctly at least a hundred times. He even attempted to figure out a way to try to clip himself into his bed! After three nights at sea we awoke to calmer waters and a bit lighter winds. Being able to maintain an average of about nine knots the entire way, we were already to the Great Barrier Reef over twenty four hours sooner than we had planned. My first night back in civalization wasn’t far away! Twenty five final miles sailing through the calm and clear waters protected by the Reef and we would be in Cairns! A city filled with beautiful backpackers, great drink specials and lots of wonderful food was close enough to taste. I can’t wait to arrive for some much needed time surrounded by the liveliness of the civalization that I left behind almost six months ago.

Departing Papua New Guinea

2007-11-09T06:53:00.003-06:00

While preparing to depart on our last morning in Papua New Guinea we were anchored in the Lee of a beautiful uninhabited island. On our first day there, the anchorage appeared to be well protected. The winds were light and the seas were calm. The second morning however, everything was a bit different. Throughout the night, the speed of the wind gradually increased bringing with it larger swells. Awaking to a boat that was rocking and rolling in every direction, we could see that this would not be a good day to set sail. The island was no longer offering protection to us, only splitting the swells as they came in allowing them to reconverge in the area where the boat lay, causing it to get tossed about in every uncomfortable way you can imagine. With the seas being a bit too rough to snorkel, we confined ourselves to reading on the boat for the day as well as making a few last minute preparations to the boat for the journey back to Australia. The next morning we awoke to lighter winds but the swells were still rolling in. While standing on the stern of the boat getting the sheets and jack lines prepared for our departure, we heard a loud crash and felt the boat shudder. Unsure of what it was, Bill and I walked towards the bow to figure out what had happened. Looking at the windlass, we found the anchor chain had become dislodged from the grip of the wildcat. The snubber line had caught the chain and was holding it strong to a deck cleat while the swells continued tossing the bow of the boat up into the air. As Bill investigated the windlass to see what had happened, it only took a few cranks to realize that something inside was not working right. A glance inside revealed that a critical piece had sheared off and our windlass would be out of service until we could get back to Australia and find a new part for it. Not only did this mean that we would not be making our last intended stop in PNG but it also meant that we were going to have to pull in a couple of hundred feet of anchor chain by hand. All this while the boat continued to be tossed up and down by the swells that were still bombarding us. After a tough struggle to get the anchor on board, we were off to Australia. Sailing through the last of the islands of the Engineer group, we made our way through the last pass before heading into the open ocean. As we passed by the last island, Yiannis decided to venture out onto the point of the bowsprit. This is a great place to be while sailing in calm seas, but when it starts to get rough, you don’t want to be anywhere near there. Now in the lee of the island, the seas surrounding us had temporarily calmed down. I am not sure what was going through Yiannis’s head, but I could see the massive swells pouring in-between the two islands. That was the only way out and with an outgoing current flowing toward the open ocean, the last portion of the pass looked like a pretty nasty stretch of breaking waves that we were sailing directly into. Watching Yiannis standing on the bowsprit looking in the other direction when we first touched the waves, it was quite apparent he didn‘t realize what was about to happen to him. After the first few little bumps, Yiannis looked down to see the sea drop from beneath the boat followed by the bow plunging into the water and submerging Yiannis to his waist. From the back of the boat, I could see the look of fear and concern in his eyes and I asked Bill what the hell he was doing out there. We both looked on as the second wave broke over Yiannis, almost knocking him off the boat. Yiannis was now trying to wait on a gap in the waves to make his way back to the deck of the boat. Gripping the inner fore stay with all his strength he began making the long stretch to step back on deck. With an outstretched leg, another swell hit and Yiannis went flying. Holding onto the steel cables, he was flung in a circle to the other side of the boat where he then went overboard! Watching the scene, I thought he was gone and we would be executing a very difficult man overboard exercise in the midst of the crashing waves. Somehow, Yiannis was still holding on to the stay and amazingly his feet had landed on another cable that supports the bowsprit from the side! Fighting the swells, Yiannis pulled himself back on board and slowly made his way back toward the cockpit. Holding his hands and slightly limping, we could tell he was in pain. How he hung onto that steel cable, I will never understand. They are the most slippery surfaces on the boat and somehow he kept his grip. A quick glance at his hands told the story. Across the bottom of all of his fingers was a tear in the skin. More like a burn, each finger had been ripped open like a painful series of blisters. The bottom of his foot was already turning blue from the impact but without landing on that cable, he would have been drifting out to sea, alone amongst the white capped waves that now surrounded us`.

Strange Sea Creatures

2007-11-09T06:53:00.001-06:00

While heading toward an anchorage in the afternoon that we left Dawson Island, we noticed a couple of beautiful little islands just a few miles away. The chart didn’t contain any information about the islands, not even so much as a name. We still had plenty of daylight to explore and navigate through any reefs we might come across on our way over so we decided to attempt to anchor there. If it proved to be impossible to reach, we could easily turn back to the known safety of our original planned anchorage. Sailing directly toward the island with Bill up in the rigging looking for reefs, we managed to sail right up to a well protected stretch of coastline on the first of the two tiny islands. Reefs stretched out all around and the shore was a tropical paradise so we decided we could figure out a way to make this anchorage work. Passing close by the reefs and the shore trying to find a shallow enough spot to anchor, we realized that the sea floor was a steep slope up from the deep. Anchoring would be difficult, but not impossible. We would attempt to drop the anchor along the steep slope and hope that it didn’t slide off. There was plenty of open sea in the direction of the current which fortunately coincided with the wind as well leaving us miles to drift in the case of the anchor becoming dislodged. With just enough daylight left to explore the nearby reefs, Yiannis grabbed a snorkel and jumped in. Since I know sharks like to feed at sunrise and sunset I elected to stay on board and talk to the mass of locals who were already overwhelming the boat. We learned the name of their island was Di Gala Gala. The people had never had a sailboat visit them much less any white men at all. They were all glad to have us there and as this would be one of our last stops in the islands, we gave away almost everything on the boat that wasn’t nailed down. All of the children were given packages of crayons, pencils and writing books. The women were given the last of our clothing and all of the men were happy to receive twine, fishing gear and kerosene. In return came the standard multitude of gifts. Shells, fruits and vegetables came from everywhere. One man gave Bill one of the best wood carvings I have seen in the islands. A plaque shaped piece of wood that depicted a battle scene amongst competing villages complete with a celebratory pig roast at the end. What an amazing gift for someone to hand out. I can’t imagine the time and work that the man put into this thing and here he was willing to give it away without a second thought to someone he didn‘t even know. With the sun almost gone, Yiannis finally began making his way back to the boat. Climbing out of the water and onto the bow of the boat, he had a look on his face of complete confusion. After removing his mask and snorkel, he began rambling on about some huge sea creature that had followed him around the reef. “Massive” he said. “This thing was massive!” When I asked what he was talking about, he told us the story. While swimming around near the beach, he was focused on the reef. This reef was better than any that we had seen since leaving Alotau, completely covered in fish of all sizes and amazing colors on all of the coral. No surprise with such an enormous reef surrounding such a small island with so few people living on it. Anyway, as he glanced back in the direction of the beach, he saw a huge animal swimming along right next to him! His account of the creature was only that it was massive! He said after catching his breath from the shock of such a big fish popping up next to him, he immediately began looking for the fin on it’s back. After careful studying and still being a bit apprehensive, he continued to watch this thing swim around him. Standing probably 6’4” tall, Yiannis is a pretty tall guy. Apparently this thing dwarfed him in size. After deciding that the animal was friendly, he continued on his snorkeling adventure. The animal proceeded to follow alongside throughout the reef. From the boat, we had noticed Yiannis swimming back and forth in the same direction for a long time. We had all commented on it and wondered what in the hell he was doing. It now made complete sense. With Yiannis describing this animal to me, I immediately knew what he had scene. It was a dugong. We had often heard that there were plenty of them around but none of us had yet to see one. I can only imagine the thrill and exhilaration that Yiannis felt when he first laid his eyes on an animal that he had never even heard of! While completely terrifying at first, I can’t imagine a more amazing feeling of being somewhere and seeing an enormous animal having no idea what it even is. That is the ultimate prize in exploring anywhere, to discover something that you didn’t even know existed! With everyone on board jealous of his dugong spotting, I think we all spent more time in the water there at Di Gala Gala than anywhere else. Sunrise and sunset along with several times during the day, we were all on a mission to find the elusive dugong. With no success, everyone was disappointed to never track the animal down again. While the feeling of seeing it wouldn’t carry the thrill of the unknown that Yiannis experienced, I have never had the opportunity to swim alongside a dugong and am terribly disappointed that I elected to bypass that first evening of snorkeling.

Travelling throughout Milne Bay

2007-11-09T06:52:00.001-06:00

With the last traces of civilization behind us in Alotau, we have spent the past couple of weeks sailing Eastward through the many islands that make up the province of Milne Bay. Tiny uninhabited islands and white sand beaches dot the horizon and each new anchorage is better than the last. There are over 400 islands in this province alone and we are leisurely navigating our way amongst them, trying to sail as far East as we can before laying a course back to Australia. As the days have passed by, we have continued to surpass even our own expectations. Each island we visit is friendlier than the last while the water just keeps getting clearer and clearer! We spent a couple of days anchored at a beautiful little spot called Dawson island. We were anchored in about sixty feet of water and you could look down to the sandy bottom and see the miscellaneous coral heads scattered about as well as all the fish that were passing by. One morning while sitting on the boat enjoying a cup of coffee, a local man came up and offered us some cuttle fish he had caught during the night. With everyone craving some calamari, we gladly accepted. After providing the man with a small bag of rice along with some pencils and paper for his children, he offered to clean the fish for us. While he began to pull the insides out and toss them into the sea, I resumed my position on the stern of the boat looking into the depths enjoying the variety of sea life that was swimming below. Now Bill and I must have drank too much the night before or something because typically when we clean fish, we take the guts in the dinghy and row them out to deeper water that is far away from the boat. That way we aren’t attracting sharks to the boat, getting them accustomed to a free feeding when often times the next thing that goes overboard is one of us enjoying a swim or heading out for a snorkel. Well sure enough, as I looked down, here comes a shark swimming by right underneath the boat. As I told Bill to have a look, we both realized that we were attracting them to the boat with the guts of the cuttlefish that were being flung overboard. A few minutes later, a second and then a third appeared, swimming in large circles around the bottom of the sea. After making a few passes along the bottom and realizing that the free meal they were after was not to be found, they swam off into deeper water where they might actually have to pursue their prey. Following breakfast, I jumped off the boat to explore the huge expanse of coral reefs that surrounded Dawson Island. Making my way down the coast of the island, I swam in and out of the coral that was spread out across the sand like a field of mushrooms. Around the corner of one coral head, I noticed a school of batfish hanging around the sea floor. Taking a deep breath, I ducked beneath the water and swam down to the bottom to take a closer look. As I neared the bat fish, I realized there was a small cave where light was coming through from just a short distance to the other side. Investigating the cave for a good photo opportunity to frame the batfish, I was startled to realize that I was staring into a giant eye! Almost sucking in a mouthful of water from the surprise, I was able to make out the camouflaged shape of a shark lying not four feet from my nose! Ordinarily, it is not that surprising to see a shark while out for a snorkel. This one however was different. It is what is known as a Wobegong shark. They are very well camouflaged, looking like the rocks on the bottom of the sea. While not a very dangerous shark, they have been known to bite people in the same way that they attack their pray. They don’t attack from the front, they wait until something approaches just to their side and then, with a quick jerk, they lunge to the side clamping their jaws down upon their next meal. Seeing as how the shark was an adult and around seven feet long, it is hard to imagine how in such clear water I was unable to notice him. He was as well camouflaged as any fish I had ever seen and I am definitely glad I didn‘t attempt a swim through that small cave! After annoying the shark for sometime, I noticed Yiannis swimming around nearby and called him over. “Do you want to see a shark?” I asked him. “Of course” he responded. So diving down beneath the coral again, I pointed to it’s location. While Yiannis swam down, I waited at the surface for his reaction. Emerging to the surface he came back saying “I didn’t see anything?” I told him to keep looking. Four dives later, Yiannis broke the surface of the water in a rush! His eyes were wide and spitting his snorkel out all he said is “That thing is enormous!” In the afternoon, Elina, Yiannis and I decided that we wanted to climb up to the top of the island which was covered in long grass with a just two trees sitting in isolation at it’s highest point. The man who had brought us the squid, David, offered to take us up but said that even though it is not very far, no one ever goes up there so we would have to hack out a new path on the way up. With David and I leading the way and our machetes in hand, we made our way up the side of the hill hacking through the dense jungle that blocked our path. As we emerged from the forest into the tall grass covering the top of the hill, we realized that what had looked like waist high grass from the boat was actually about eight feet tall. David asked me to cut a young tree down and pass it up to him. As he laid the stick on the grass horizontally, he pressed his foot forward, laying down enormous tracts of grass for us to walkover. A few minutes later we reached the top where we were still surrounded by grass in every direction. Not a view in sight! David however was still stepping down on the grass and clearing more space. He made his way to each edge of the peak eventually providing us with views in all directions. In every direction as far as you could see were tiny little islands surrounded by coral reefs. Looming back in the distance where this leg of our journey began we could see the sun starting to near the tops of the mountains on the mainland. It looked like an amazing place to watch the sunset but lacking any torches to guide us down, we decided to head back to the coast and enjoy the last few rays of sunshine from the deck of the boat.