The Berglon's Wanderlust

A Simple Existence

2009-06-11T09:29:00.000-07:00

Ahh, northern California. Sonoma County. Redwood trees, birds and wildflowers. This morning I awoke to blue skies without a trace of fog.

A warm patch of sun enveloped the back wood deck so I unrolled my yoga mat and began an early morning stretch. The sun comfortably blinded me me so I kept my eyes closed while I focused on deep breaths. Somehow I could sense something was watching me, and it wasn't Emma dog. I peered one eye open and saw a trio of deer at the edge of the meadow staring at me with their ears perked and perfectly still. But then the strangest thing happened. A large doe crept closer to me, prancing almost, showing off her sides before stopping and staring again. I wondered why they didn't bolt away. I was doubly shocked that Emma remained in a deep snooze while these giant creatures shared our space. But I suppose it didn't really matter why. I simply watched the deer watch me while my yoga session gently came to a close. No sooner than my head dropped down and hands came together in a namaste bow than the deer turned and pranced away, almost as if on cue.

This is now a time of reflection for me. Andy and I have experienced life in 22 countries in 15 months and there is so much to digest! Taking the time to refocus and recenter feels just right at the moment. I am finding gifts in life all around me to the point of overwhelm. So I sit, stretch and breathe, downloading what is all around me, basking in its warm patch of sun.

The Peruvian Andes Take Our Breath Away...Literally

2009-03-23T09:51:00.000-07:00

Only two weeks left in South America. Time is a funny thing - it feels as though we just left the States and here we are about to return to California. We will live and work in Sonoma County for a couple of months before departing internationally once again. Traveling has become an ideal lifestyle, indeed.

Our days continue to be one adventure after the next, a perfect petrie dish for life in the present moment. Right now we are in the Andes mountains on the doorstep of the Cordilerra Blanca, the highest mountain range in the world next to the Himalayas. Our adobe-made bed and breakfast is located at the foot of a 23,000 foot snow-covered peak named Huascaran. It's run by a couple of Canadian expats who have a passion for sustainable and eco-friendly living, from reusing waste, organic gardening, natural home building ingredients and employing the local indigenous men and women to help around the property.

Yesterday we took a hike to Laguna 69 with Stuart and Lynva from Scotland/Britian who are also enjoying the lifestlye of travel. Little did we know it would take four hours to get there navigating around (sometimes over) bucket-sized potholes, mudslides and barking dogs. These meanies ran 20km per hour alongside our taxi, snarling and yapping, darting in front of us so we had to break and swerve. Not that fun of a drive, but practicing my Spanish with our driver, Jose, made me forget about my mounting headache and sloshing stomach during random intervals.

The warm equatorial sun followed us directly overhead for 8km as we traversed a meadow covered in bright yellow, blue and purple wildflowers. The jagged, snow-covered peaks of the Andes showed off for us in the quebrada (valley created by a glacier) while we passed saw-mouthed cows. We made the climb upwards on granite cliffsides to reach the next plateau, our pace slowing and our chests constricting from the high altitude of 16,000 feet. I poured us some coca tea made from fresh leaves. Yes, cocaine is made from the same plant, but the stem, not the leaves, and is highly processed to become the illicit drug. Pure coca, much like hemp, is the natural derivative, legal, and has been used in the highlands for hundreds of years to help altitude sickness, curb hunger and give a boost of natural energy. Admittedly, Andy and I are in pretty good shape but it doesn't matter - we had pounding headaches moving to the point of absolute exhaustion. We drank two liters of water each and still had thirst. Here, even when I take the stairs two at a time up to our room I am out of breath. It's a novel and odd feeling...we are now taking it easy for a couple days. (Bootleg DVDs...yeah!)

Finally, we could see a sliver of bright turquoise that morphed into a giant, pristine glacial lake. Two loud waterfalls poured down from Mt. Chacraraju (about 19,000 feet) staring at us from directly above, doused in perfectly white snow. The contrast of the yellow and purple wildflowers and green grasses on the shoreline to the topaz-hued lake, the grey granite rock wall, angelic mountain peaks and sapphire blue sky was absolute magic. We simply crashed down on a rock and stared in awe at this unimaginable piece of nature.

Though quite a bit colder, the highlands are my favorite place in Peru. One of my best memories while hiking in this remote area is watching the indiginous women as sheep herders, traversing the rocky landscape with stick in hand. As we draw nearer, we can see the details on their hats, each with a specific color, shape and design depending on the community they are from. Most speak a tongue of their native language of Quichoa and Spanish. Each also wear a unique set of clothing, for example a white collared blouse and red sweater with a wide purple knee-length skirt, white socks and black loafers. It's so interesting and different than anything I have seen in the US - a primitive perseverence tightly knitted by community and tradition. Here at the B&B, I am enjoying talking with a few girls from the local community who are new to work here and admittedly having some difficulty learning the "western way" of serving guests. I can't help myself smiling widely right back at them when we make eye contact. They have such a peaceful and simple existence that warms my heart. I feel millions of miles away from California.

From Relaxation to a Rough Road - continued (Chapter 2)

2009-03-19T07:13:00.000-07:00

With our trusty Lonely Planet - South America on a Shoestring book, we had just enough info to know what cities we needed to aim for to get to Huaraz and our Andean salvation. Beyond that we were just 2 gringos looking for help. That is what we got from a nice young women grasping what we found out was her first born child. From Trujillo we could take a bus from a company called Movis tours to Huarez. A nice bus, similar to El Dorado. Next a taxi driver found us after a morning sink bath in the bano and offered us a ride to wherever. There are pre-Incan ruins and the oldest known abode complex in the Americas nearby by at Chan Chan, but we were beelining to Huaraz dammit.

We got to Movis and found out that the next and only bus to Huaraz did not depart until 9 en la noche (night). It was 6:30 in the morning right NOW! Crapola. Chan Chan...? We thought maybe until our driver told us we could take ht America bus company to Chimbote, a fishing town 2 hours south (the right direction at least). From there we could catch another bus to Huaraz. Do it. Do it. We were off and arrived at America as the bus´engine started to grumble. For 8 soles ($2.50) each we were on the bus. They played (as they often do on these South American bus rides) a Hollywood action film in espanol of course. I watched a bank robbery with Jason Stathom. He´s a bald guy so maybe that´s why I dug it so much ,)

2 hours later we arrived in the fishy, cebiche (ceviche)-selling village of Chimbote at the bus terminal. We were again helped in teh right direction. This time to the Yungay ticket window where we saw the dry erase board schedule for 8:30 departure to Huaraz. It was 9:15. Damn! But, the nice lady was not concerned and made a call. We could catch up with the bus on the outskirts of town via taxi. Van, Van (Go! Go!). We got a 6 soles tour of the inland streets (carreterra or camino or calle) of Chimbote and found the dingy, blue Yungay bus waiting patiently for us gringos. Our bafgs were trown in teh under compartment (so far we have not had to store our bags on the roof which is nice). We had been sold 2 seats (asientos) together (junto) on the left side of the bus (25 soles) so when the time came during this 9 hour bus ride, we could see the magestic Canon del Pata. I am intrigued.

Stacy is in a wonderful mode this day, despite the continuous travel and lack of comfort. I am most impresed and tell her often. We were off. Heading east at first then ultimately south to Huaraz. I can´t wait for the snow-capped Andes!! The Peruvian Andes are the worlds´s second tallest mountain range by the way. Who knew? The trip took us from the desert-like caost of northern Peru into a rocky canyon zigging and zagging with the powerful Rio Santo River. The paved road ended abruptly and I was jarred awake. We were now on a makeshift dirt and rock path hugging the steep cliffs on one side goign up (arriba) and keeping clear of the downward cliff on the other falling into the Class 5 rapids below (sometimes 100 feet below!). I was constandtly feeling myself leaning the opposite way of the river.

Our bus had a driver, a porter collecting dinero and a mechanic. Thank god! We had to stop 5 times over the course of the 9 hour trip to fix something. Different somethings each time? Who knows? There was evidence of recent rock slides. I kept prodding Stacy with a wry smirk, ¨Hey, look at that massive rock in the middle of the river. How did that get there?¨ From a rock slde no doubt! The heart rate was constantly up on this trip. I was waiting for a rock to impale the roof of hte bus or rock us into teh river. We had a window open nearby just in case. No joke, we discussed our emergency plan! Twice during stops I thanked teh driver and mechanic for their brilliant work!

On and on this went for hours. We finally stopped in a village that lined this dusty road carved into the rock. Burros everywhere and makeshift shanty tiendas (shops) selling water and sugar stuff. The river was muddy and rushing by FAST! We ate a tidy little meal at a nice lady´s restaurante (4 walls and roof with tables and chairs). Seco de pollo, arroz y yuca. We enjoyed a CocaCola and talked with her and a few others. One guy who made and was selling his own helado (ice cream). It was tasty. I had a lot of fun chatting in espanol with our new friends. They seemed happy to talk too. Everyday the buses drive this road back and forth and they are the salvation in teh middle of nowhere. Everyone from our bus was eating and buying something (we were the only gringos for kilometers!) - business had to be pretty good here! The mechanic took the opportunity to fix whatever needed fixing and eventually we wereoff. Adios Amigos!

Despite th erepairs, we had to stop a few times more, precariously close to the cliff´s edge. The intense drive continued and then we hit the fabulous Canon del Pato. WOW!! A tight and incredibly steep and tall canyon with the roaring river below. How did they make this road?! It was carved out of rock. At times with barely a bus width of space. I was waiting for the rear left tire to start sliding down the cliff! here must have been 2 dozen tunnels we went through. Once having to back up 100M so another vehicle could pass. There were waterfalls pouring into the river. The cascadas started thousands of feet up we could see if we craned our necks to the very very top of the mountain. Incredible!! I was constantly leaning to my left across Stacy as she read her book, snapping photo after photo!! There was a dam at one point and then the Canon was past. We still wound our way through farmland and eventually to a real town wit ha paved road. We caught our first glimpse of Snow-capped Andes in the town of Caraz and the mountain that some revere as the most beautifully perfect peaks in the world, Alpamayo. We had to change buses in Yungay. I´m sure the bus was happy! That was an impossible trip for the poor bus!

The rest of the trip was paved. By now it was dark and my energy was sapped. I napped. I awoke to us nearing Huaraz. Stacy said she saw a serious head-on crash. Yikes! We arrived and were excited to walk and stretch our legs despite teh taxi guy and hostal lady trying to get our business. No gracias. We had sent an email to Olaza´s (www.Olazas.com) B&B from Piura (seems like a month ago) hopeful for a place to stay but who knows? It turned out they had a room and it was heavenly! I new establishment with large room with private bath and window. Delish!! There is a rooftop terrace, lounge with fireplace, free brekky. Our sense of accomplishment and relief was huge. High Fives all around! 48 hours of travel and we´d made it to Huaraz, surrounded by snowy peaks! Oh thank god. I was so happy - more for Stacy than anything. Also, for myself I suppose so the wife was satisfied.

A Happy Wife is a Happy Life (Oh I hope so!!)!!

From Relaxation to a Rough Road - Sorry Stace - Chapter 1

2009-03-18T10:38:00.001-07:00

After 7 days in the wonderful Valley of Longevity in Vilcabamba, Ecuador I felt it was time to go. We had extended our stay from 3 nights to 7, but Stacy was happy here. We talked a lot about it and she seemed happy to go after day 7. It turned out, she was not quite ready to hit the road. So, we compromised. She really wanted to stay in Vilcabamba, Ecuador (it was a great town and a great country!) but I was restless. We decided to head to Peru, but not to the jungle as I initially had hoped.

We had no clue really where, except to get over the border to a large town called Piura (pronounced Pee-ura). It was a wild ride. The overnight $8 bus ride was halted at 3am due to a rumba on the road. A rockslide! It had rained a bit the day before (ayer in espanol) We waited and waited, then I got out with others with my headlamp to check it out. Couldn´t see much but we could hear the frequent cracking and sliding sounds of rock and dirt. Frequent I tell you! I got back in the bus and we all slept there (a few others buses lined up in front of and behind us too). A
t 7am, I was up and curious. I walked over people sleeping in the bus aisle (they oversold the thing - shocker!) and saw the problem. We had serious road blockage and the cracking and spilling continued. I watched with dozens of others as a second rumba began closer than the other. Trees were sliding down with the dirt and rock. I had never seen such a thing. Stacy slept but I was in awe and enjoyed the wackiness. I was not sure how we were going to get to Peru and I really wanted my wife happy. Unfortuantely, this would not be the way to her heart. Waiting on a bus, no shower, not sure where or when we were going. The stars were not aligned for me these last few hours.

I explored our options by walking around the rumba in the thcket of bramble, trees and bushes, past a smellt bano (I did use it though) and up a small hill. I tried to keep my distance from the spillage but a few times I was maybe 20M away. On the other side were a few pickup trucks, taking advantage of the opportunity and the stranded people. I chatted with a few and for $10/vehicle (Ecuador uses the US$$ by the way), we could get a hitch to the border town of Macara 90 minutos away. As I spoke with them, the cracking became intense and the rockslide suddenly tripled in size and came flowing down the mountain sending a plumage of dust toward te hworkers who had begun to shovel away the mess. That was intense. Luckily no one, including me was hurt! I walked back to the buses and told Stacy the news. After her fright of losing me under a barrage of rubble subsided we were grabbing our backpacks (mochilas) and heading by foot toward and past the rumba. An argentinian couple followed, along with a number of others.

We loaded in a pickup and for $1.50 each we weredriving through the intense fog southbound toward the border (frontera). A nice conversation ensued with the Argentinian woman who was 7 months prego and who had been traveling with her husband since August (you do the math! thats daring.). We got to the border, the unorthodox way and met with rather pleasant officers with big smiles.
We were stamped and checked and soon, with the Argentinians, in another car (coche) heading to Sullana. Not Piura, but close. 2 hours later we arrived in the moto-taxi frenzied town and were dropped at t ehfeet of a sleeping local in a camry. He would take us to Piura. Really? It was a little bit rushed and uncomfortable, especially for Stacy, but what other choice did we have? The bus station was dangerous we were told (that´s what we hear about everywhere and we are still breathing!). We gave in and for 8 soles (1 soles = $0.30US) each we got a 45 minute ride to Piura.

Piura was a large town. The 4 of us had decided to be dropped near a cluster of hostels we´d seen in our trusty Lonely Planet guide book. Still, Stacy and I did not know what we were going to do...Stay the night? Go to the jungle? Take a bus today top somewhere? I had figured to head south into the Peruvian Andres to find a nice mountain lodge for a week or so to give Stacy the R&R she wanted. Now, she said we could go to the jungle if I wanted. I was going a bit loco. She was defintiely having a difficult time with all of this travel and leaving the comfort of our Vilcabamba santuary. I understand that. It was nice. But the difference between man and woman (hombre y mujer) was coming out. I was looking for solutions and she was simply going through her emotions at that time. We ended up finding Hostal San Carlos in Piura central for 45 soles. Not sure what we are going to do, but maybe taking some time to sit, rest and think will do us good. Oh, and a shower wouldn´t hurt either! We worked out some differences and hit the streets for a tasty Almuerzo (lunch) at a locals joint. Then we dove into the Internet recon program. Huaraz in the Andes became our focus and Stacy seemed to be getting into it as she read more and more. We were sitting at 2 computers in a tight corner of the place - really tight. So tight I was using my canine teeth to hit the Return key. We decided to go to head toward Huaraz, to the snow-capped peaks and maybe a little chill in the air. When or how we´d get there we were guessing, buses of course...

We walked to the street lined with bus companies (In Peru, there tends not to be a central station. Instead all of the private companies have their own locations. Luckily here they were all along one road). We bought 2 tickets to Trujillo in the south for 12 midnight (medianoche) tonight. Let´s just keep on keeping on we decided.

We shopped for groceries and again found PEANUT BUTTER! and the motherlode of wine! We stocked up and then rested until it was time to leave for our bus. We watched english TV in our matchbox of a room and recouped. The El Dorado bus trip south was a pleasure and we slept hard, arriving in Trujillo, 6 hours away, in what seemed to be 30 minutes! We were on our way. Now what?

And the story will continue ( a guy is painting the ceiling in our hostals so I will need to get going)...

PB to fill the void, Por Favor!

2009-03-14T09:40:00.000-07:00

We are 6 weeks into our America del Sur adventure and are having a blast! We zipped up to Ecuador after 6 days in Peru have are still here! The trip has developed a mind of its own as they have tended to do over hte last 13 months! At times traveling without a care in the world and other times fighting with what our future will bring and what are we doing with our lives?

We started on the coast in Puerto Lopez (Poor Man´s Galapagos), went northeast to Puerto Quito (luckily avoiding the 80M wide gap in the highway which had recently been washed away by intense rains, volunteered in the jungle with the biting bugs and sloths, planting trees and more. We headed east into the Andes to the capital of Quito, then southeast to Tena for an amazing Jungle Lodge adventure.

Then to Banos, then we took the brilliant train ride from Alausi down the Devils´s Nose,
and found ourselves after a 6 hour swerving and stopping bus ride, in Cuenca, the home of the Panama Hat (Yes, Panama didn´t make squat!).

We are now in Vilcabamba in the south, nearly to Peru. Stacy will for sure broaden your knowledge of the Valley of Longevity and its tremendous attributes, but lets just say our 3 night visit has turned into 7!!

Throughout this itinerary-less journey, we have been dealing with the mindfuck that has been our last 13 months. It has been incredible no question. But it also has brought up loads of questions and concerns. Amazingly liberating and fulfilling days have been followed by days filled with self-analysis and questions of why? (Por que?) and when? (Cuando.? Do we have money? Where are we going next? Where can we buy wine? Why are being the way you are? Geez! It has been an education on so many levels.

Luckily for us here, unlike in SE Asia, we do have bread (pan) and cheese (queso), wine (vino) ain´t great, but it you find a SuperMaxi (grocery store) you can embrace a good selection at good value! The comfort food (comida) has been a blessing, no doubt, but still, for for the first month something was lacking. I really didn´t know what it was, but when we were eating queso fresco (an Ecuadorian staple that looks like mozzerella, but tastes bad) again, or those wonderfully delicious Coco cookies (galletas) I found myself yearnign for something. It wasn´t until we were in Banos (not the toilet!) that I realized what it was that I missed. We take it for granted back home. It sits in the cupboard, sometimes for months on end. But here, you must search and search! I know, I´ve done it!

PEANUT BUTTER!! (Mantequilla de Mani) It has a special place in my heart that comforts me when those analytical questions arise or I wonder what we are doing?? We have spoken to people who had friends bring it with them from the states when they visited, one group had 2 CostCo-sized half gallons in their carry-on when they left the USA and had it confiscated under the liquid rule. Then, finally in Banos, a female traveler was spooning it out onto her plate in mounds and I had to keep myself from charging over there! It is in Ecuador afterall!!! The next day, Stacy, the wonderful wife that she is realized that it was in our town even and secretively disappeared with a smile on her face and returned bearing gifts (well, one gift). A small glass container of local mantequilla de mani!!! I was in shock!! Finally!! After searching long and hard for weeks, we had it!! I had it!

We are now on container number 3. In Cuanca at the SuperMaxi we found Peter Pan Crunchy which we are now enjoying (lots of sugar though!). Who needs dessert or chips or a carrot when you can finger-spoon a clump of PB into your salivating mouth.

Muchas Gracias Ecuador!!!

El Baño en Baños, Ecuador

2009-03-07T09:43:00.000-08:00

Photo Album. Baños is a quaint town located in a dramatic Andean valley with creature comforts all around. It's the first truly touristic city in Ecuador we have visited thus far. Our hostal, Plantos y Blancos was a highlight. Baños literally means 'baths' in Spanish due to the healing natural pools in the town from the giant volcano that towers over the town only miles away.

Our hostal has an early morning steam bath that Andy and I experienced three mornings in a row. It is a natural body cleanse that originated in Chile. You sit in a hot vapor box for 4 minutes with fresh eucalyptus leaves like a steam room, except your head sticks out. Then, you wipe your legs, arms and back methodically with a cold towel all the while following an attendant. You alternate this process five times, each time opening all of your pores, extracting the toxins, then closing your pores before the toxins have a chance to seep back in. There is also a time in the middle when you sit in a tub with freezing cold water and massage your intestines for about 1-2 minutes. Lastly, a cold jet spray. Afterwards, I felt revived and full of energy (and pooped like a champ) and clearer skin.

We enjoyed a 35km bike ride (oi) along la Routa de las Cascadas (Avenue of the Waterfalls). Oh my, Ecuador is a beautiful place! The highlands (Andes mountains) much more than the coast. No mosquitoes here, either. It rained everyday there but I didn't mind.

The Amazon Jungle in Ecuador

2009-03-04T13:20:00.001-08:00

Photo Album. Andy and I had an unforgettable four days in the Amazon jungle. The Shangrila Lodge reminded me of a giant tree house made completely of wood with loads of different levels and stairways. It faces west, perched on a cliff 100 meters above the winding Rio Anzu below. It was consistently about 70 - 75 degrees with only slight humidity. Thousands of hectares of secondary rainforest stretched out before us glittering in a spectrum of brilliant green colors. In the distance, the Camino des Volanes popped out from above the clouds - four volcanoes in the Andes mountains. The panoramic view was completely private with no other lodges or people in sight from our private deck and hammock. No mosquitoes this high up, either. A perfect paradise.

It was pouring rain the first day we arrived with the river too high to be able to canoe across for our scheduled activity to visit the indigenous Quichoa community in the rainforest. As an alternative, our guide Gilberto (pronounced Hilberto) decided to take us on a three hour canyon hike to the east in the dense primary rainforest. Little did we know we'd be scaling canyon walls and waterfalls in narrow passages with bats whipping by our faces and their screech in our ears. Though we had rubber boots to our knees, the rain was so insistent and intense that we were completely soaked through by the end, yet strangely satisfied. After all, this IS the rainforest.

Because the forest is so dense, the majority of the trail was in the stream bed which that day was up to my mid-calf. Gilberto only speaks Spanish with a few important jungle-related nouns or verbs in English thrown in, like "resvaloso" (slippery), "semillas" (seeds), "hoja" (leaf) and "monos" (monkeys). I was both surprised and pleased that during the hike we not only became acquainted with the jungle, but Spanish as well. It's incredible to hear about the various leaves, plants, roots and mushrooms the indigenous cultures have used over the centuries to cure headaches and stomach problems, malaria, as an antibiotic, to hallucinate or increase energy levels. Andy was daring enough to eat some crunchy lemon ants but I passed on that one.

The next day the sun shone brightly as we hiked in the secondary forest filled with thousands of brightly-colored butterfies to the Quichoa village. Along the way we tried fresh bananas and saw tiny monkeys swinging in the trees. I could hardly believe this jungle is only ten years old - the original primary forest was cut down years ago to make room for cow pastures. It's beautiful to see it back in its natural state now. At one point, Gilberto grabbed a spiky plant and hit my arm with it and stung like nettle. Red rash bumps quickly appeared but before I could get pissed off at him, Gilberto explained it's good for blood circulation as he pegged his own arm and lower back. Who knows.

Le Comunidad de Santa Maria is one giant family of 80 inhabitants. Maria and Delphin are the matriarch and patriarch, respectively. We arrived around 11:30am yet it felt like a ghost town because no one was up and around. Gilberto took us inside Delphin's house and explained because it is Saturday, they all get "baracho" (drunk) on the weekend from fermented yuca root until the wee hours of the morning and that is why everyone is still asleep. His house is made of bamboo with a couple of bamboo benches and a space for a fire in the center of the room. As Gilberto served us some tea from the huayusa plant (the "Viagra of the Jungle" as he called it), Delphin appeared (still half drunk it seemed) and we greeted him with "alipuncha," Quichoa for good morning. He spoke Spanish also so we could understand him some. We also tried the fermented yuca (which tasted like thin rotten yogurt to me) and Gilberto showed us the baskets they use for fishing when the river runs low. Along the hike, Gilberto had picked up other various leaves, mushrooms and a giant buttery grub which he cooked up in a banana leaf. Though otherwise completely primitive, I was not surprised to see a television in the room. In Southeast Asia it was the same way.

After lunch at the lodge, we tied three tubes together and cruised down the Rio Anzu for a couple of hours. It was both relaxing and beautiful to watch the "selva" (jungle) pass us by, engaging in yet another impromptu Spanish lesson. Gilberto was interested to know English words as well, so it was a fun activity to banter back and forth, teaching one another, asking questions and telling stories. I have never taken a formal Spanish lesson, but my comprehension and basic speech is improving drastically by the day. This is a gift from South America that I didn't expect but will cherish always. The trick is to CONTINUE practicing...

The next day we went white water rafting with a group of Germans on the Rio Jalunyacu, mostly level three rapids but with the tricks, games, our company and sheer number of rapids, it was a blast. Our guide (who also didn't speak English, shocker!) Jorge was a kick, with a bright smile and contagious zest for life. I decided he might have one of the best jobs in existance. My cheeks hurt at the end of the day from all the smiles and laughter (but now my neck and shoulders hurt from all the rowing). Also a memorable day, indeed, with the added bonus of the continuous Spanish lesson which I am growing to love and purposely find myself seeking out.

Like dozens of our experiences on this world trip, it was sad to leave this jungle sanctuary and a handful of new friends. But everything is temporary and this notion forces us to remain living and enjoying in the present moment to the fullest.

Quito, Ecuador

2009-02-26T09:27:00.000-08:00

It's not often that I report it's nice to be in a giant city for a few days, but this was an exception. Infrastructure outside of the large cities is minimal so we were thankful to be able to have hot water, access to supermarkets, a dentist and pizza.

Quito is a beautiful colonial city set in a valley in the Andes at about 8,500 feet surrounded by beautiful green mountains. It took our lungs a day or two to get acclimated from sea level. The road from Puerto Quito was a mess from the recent storms and we watched out the window in awe as we circumvented a stretch of road completely washed away from mudslides. I am still not sure how these giant buses make it up alternate muddy roads, but they do.

We spent most of our time in the Centro Historico, a beautiful area of town with old colonial buildings and squares from the 1500s when the Spanish settled. People watching was one of my favorite activities while relaxing in the squares - indigenous ladies with a child or two expertly wrapped on their back with an old sheet selling homemade plantains, or the modern day mestizo on his cell phone walking briskly to a meeting. It was Carnaval, but to my surprise people flock to the small towns (Banos, Tena) and the coast (Esmereldas) to celebrate instead. So maybe that's why I liked the city - it wasn't crowded at all. Although when we arrived on Saturday, we had our packs on our backs walking to our hotel and heard a child yell 'Gringo! Gringo!' I turned around and saw a few kids racing towards us and after I dodged them, they doused Andy with foam, a Carnaval tradition. It was interesting to see the town full of people and commerce on Wednesday. Thousands of people had a inked cross in the middle of their foreheads, a symbol I can only guess is related to Lent.

Quito is extremely dangerous after dark so each night by 6:30pm we were safely inside our guesthouse doors ($8.50 US per person per night by the way). It had internet access (80 cents per hour) and a kitchen, so we shopped and cooked our own meals again and we continue to have happy stomachs.

The last time we visited a dentist was about six months ago in Bangkok, so we decided to get our teeth cleaned here. The place was professional, the price was right at $15 a pop and our dentist loved to talk and spoke only Spanish (like everyone), so we enjoyed an hour long Spanish lesson as well. The most memorable word I learned was 'escoupe' meaning spit. I did plenty of that.

There really isn't that much more to report of our time in Quito. We ate, we slept, we caught up on errands, traded our books and walked all over the city. Yesterday we took a five hour bus ride to the province el Oriente in a city called Tena, the gateway to the Amazon. This weekend we are off on our first tour, a jungle adventure into the Amazon Rainforest to hike and white water raft.

We heard the devastating news today that Dean Dosdall has passed away. Dean was an incredible person who Andy and I have both had the pleasure of working with over the last five years. So Dean, today we celebrate you, your open heart and your kind soul. We cherish the memories and laughter we have shared over the years and we will miss you very, very much.

Saving the Rainforest in Ecuador

2009-02-23T14:22:00.000-08:00

Photo Album. On February 19 we celebrated one year of traveling around the world. I can hardly believe that this year has gone by so quickly and we are still hungry for more...well, that's true most of the time anyway. At times, Andy and I go through bouts of aimlessness. What are we doing? Where are we going? How do we get there? When do we stop traveling? Why would we? Why wouldn't we? Imagine your life for a minute without a cell phone or a computer, without a car or a job, without your friends or family. With this dual-edged void in our minds, these questions arise. We talk it though and discover we need purpose. Working on a rainforest reserve to regenerate the native trees was a perfect remedy...for then, anyway.

Our host, Raul, finally arrived to the house after two days there on our own with another volunteer named Annika, a German biology student. It was the first morning of work that my horror story images disappeared from the half a dozen machetes laying around the house. Each of us with a giant machete in hand, we sliced away the invasive vines that inhibit native tree growth in a primary and secondary rainforest. Next, we planted 60 native trees underneath the pockets of sunlight we created. Unfortunately for me, as I was hacking away I must have gotten close to a wasp nest because I received four stings - two on my middle finger, one on my forearm and I batted away the fourth one as it was mid-sting in my bicep. OUCH! Both my finger and forearm were pretty red and swollen and I could hardly bend my finger (see photo album for pics). Thankfully, I am not allergic.

The next day I had the day off from the machete and planted seedlings instead. Between three of us, we planted over 1,000! It´s exciting to see a project like this in action. That afternoon, we learned how to make chocolate from the cacao plants on the property and have been indulging in organic coffee in the mornings from here as well. Raul also taught us how to make palm nut rings.

We have learned so much about the flora and fauna on rainforest hikes with Raul - I have a journal full of drawings. The sounds at night were plentiful. We heard all sorts of frogs, cicadas, geckos, sloths, birds, kikajous...and Andy saw a snake. All kinds of creatures out here. Some great news is monkeys are coming back since the forest has been regenerated in this fashion. Apparently they haven't been seen here in over ten years because of the massive clear cutting.

We have eaten all kinds of organic food from the property: macadamia nuts, sesame seeds, papaya, coffee, chocolate, starfruit, najarilla (a fruit), bananas, plantanes, hearts of palm and lemon basil. My stomach is in heaven since we have been able to cook our own food. You must be wondering what Ecuadorian food is anyway. A lot of rice, chicken, broccoli, plantanes and tomatoes. Plantanes are a staple. They are a type of large, unripe banana. They can be cooked in dozens of different ways - I learned how to make chifles, patacones and bolones. Chifles are very thinly sliced, deep fried, sprinkled with salt and taste like potato chips. Patacones are a thicker, pressed version and bolones are boiled, mixed with butter and salt and then stuffed with cheese. Yum.

Favorite foods we have eaten out are empanadas, tamales and mochiles (yuca root that is made into a soft dough, stuffed with a white cheese and fried). Unlike being in Asia, we stop into a panaderia (bread shop) most days to make a sandwich or have a fresh croissant for a snack. Oh, and there is a fruit here called guanabana that is made into juice and yogurt that is simply delicious. Be sure to check out the photos .

Now, we are in the capital city of Quito. More to come on our experience here later.

Adventures in Ecuador (Puerto Lopez & Puerto Quito)

2009-02-16T13:18:00.000-08:00

Buenos tardes mi amigos...

Ecuador. Who knew we would come to this little country on the equator? By now, that is half the fun for Andy and me. Where we go is as random as rolling a dice sometimes. Jaunting over to Puerto Lopez, Ecuador did have some draw, however and it is called Parque Nacional Machalilla. This giant national park is the only one on the coast of Ecuador and covers 20,000 hectares of the sea as well. After another overnight bus ride, we awoke feeling groggy and managed to find our way around potholes, litter and stray dogs to our guesthouse Itapoa on the sea. Raul, the owner, greeted us at the entrance and welcomed us inside the tranquil palm-covered grounds. Unlike everyone else, he spoke fluent English and gave us a few recommendations of what to do.

Since our room wasn't ready, we headed out again to grab some breakfast at a Columbian restaurant that offered yogurt, granola, fruit and real Columbian coffee for breakfast. YES, whole grains and real coffee! Much better than white breads and instant coffee we had in Peru (and some nasty fish, but I won't relive that memory). It's a new success to not feel nauseus after eating, and this was one of those coveted times. We met another couple who had just spent five weeks in Columbia and raved about it. Andy and I didn't have a clue where we were off to next, so hearing about others' adventures is a welcome treat.

Our time in Puerto Lopez was spent in the national park, on the beach and in our hammock reading books. The highlight was an excursion to Isla de la Plata, otherwise known as "the Poor Man's Galapagos" where we went snorkeling and hiking around the island. Blue-footed boobies were the most interesting creature, completely unafraid of humans since, like on the Galapagos, they have no predators. In fact, we were scared of them as father and young squawked and darted towards us in a protective measure.

We spent a good amount of time chatting with our host Raul during breakfast over organic coffee from his rainforest reserve. He described a volunteer opportunity there which is located near the town of Puerto Quito (not listed in Lonely Planet...uh oh!). Our interest was piqued as he described collecting and planting native seeds to regenerate the native rainforest in the area, as well as educate the locals about this important process. We would learn how to make palm nut rings, harvest coffee and cocoa beans for chocolate. We tasted the bitter flavor of 100% pure cocoa - it definitely needs a bit of sugar! Andy had just been talking about how he wanted to volunteer somewhere, so this looks like our next destination. Sold.

The plan was to take an overnight bus to Quito, spend a couple days in the capital city, meet up with Raul then take a four hour bus ride to Puerto Quito. Didn't happen quite as planned. Our bus stopped in Puerto Domingo in the middle of the night and we heard word that the rains have washed out both main roads to Quito. Now what? The driver decided to take us the long way around through Puerto Quito - the town we wanted to end up in ultimately. Good thing Andy woke up at just the right time because he called to the driver to stop the bus when he saw signs mentioning the town. A local asked us where we were headed when we exited the bus and he let us use his phone. Raul answered and said of course, we can go to his house a couple of days early. Miguel, the man who looks after his house, biked down the hill to meet us. Meanwhile, I went shopping for some bread, fruit, milk, vegetables and other food supplies. If you ever find yourself in Ecuador, make sure to look at the date on all goods - so much is outdated on the shelves.

We make it up to the house and it is indeed in the middle of a beautiful Ecuadorian jungle. After dropping our bags in our private room, Miguel showed us around the property, pointing out beautiful orchids, papaya trees, giant butterflies and pineapple fruits. Stupidly, my arms and shoulders were not covered and in less than 10 minutes I had dozens of mosquito bites. Damn it. Good thing we are hopped up on malaria pills. Then, Miguel leaves and Andy and I have this giant house in the jungle to ourselves. We start work the next day. Today, we read and sleep and cook our own meals for the first time in South America. Nausea stays away, hooray.

Our shower dribbles like a strong pee. The screens are rusted and torn. The smell of mildew pilfers down the hall. Grime is caked on the sink and countertops. Mosquitos bite and then bite again. The humidity makes our bodies smell very strange. Certainly, it is times like these that make me yearn for the comforts of home. But then it wouldn't be an adventure, now would it?

We worked in the garden for a few hours this morning. It's a lot like WWOOFing, except we have no host. Raul is supposed to come this afternoon, but without a phone, who knows. It depends on if the road from Quito is repaired. Again, who knows? The expected becomes the unexpected and the uncomfortable remains so.

P.S. Our Spanish is getting better everyday. Not a soul speaks English!

Mancora, Peru - R&R and that damn little Muchacha!!

2009-02-12T16:08:00.000-08:00

We made it to the coastal meca of Mancora early last Wednesday after 17 hours of relative ease on Cruz del Sur bus lines. The place is definitely 3rd world we realized as we made our way from the bus stop to our place which we had booked at the Lima aeropuerto, Kimba´s Bungalows. The roads we dusty and shanties lined the main drag, hwy 1, selling lots of shells, food and alcohol. Little motobike chariots were zipping by as were giant semi trucks and buses nonstop.

Patterned after Balinese hidaways, Kimba´s was an oasis for us. A cute upstairs bungalow, hammock and chairs with agorgeous little pool and lots of palm trees. Kimba even had a pet parrot squaking periodically! We spent 5 nights in Mancora soaking in warmth and sun. We ate cheap and just relaxed. Walks on the OK beach away from the swarms of local vacationers were nice in the evenings. We slept in until 930 each day and snuck in for our breakfast just before 10 todos los dias. Our angel from SF and Lima, Carlos arrived the second day we were there and had the room directly underneath us. Too funny! He was a really nice guy and was also here in Peru to relax and get away from the hustle and bustle of Americana for a while.

I mentioned earlier we ate cheap. Evening number 2 found us walking ht ebeach and then up a main dirt road mocked with potholes and puddles of standing water from the recent rain. We saw the board and the little chica advertising 2 courses and a jugo for 5 soles each(1 dollar = 3.2 soles, you do the math!). Andy Bergdahl was IN! And so was the Mrs. We ate tasy ceviche and ric dishes, ordered 2 beers and got out o there for 5 bucks. Crazy. The next night we ended up at the same place with the same cute little muchacha. Only this time, stacy´s stomach was growling back before we left the table. Again, 5 dollars, but th ebonus of this experience was the cheapness of the NEXT day as we we unable to eat much of anything. Stacy´s Montazuma´s Revenge hit early and was copnsiderable. I on the ther hand thought I´d gotten away clear. When Stacy grunted her question to me in the middle of hte night, ¨how are YOU feeling?¨I said my stomach was tight but I think its from the run and stretching I did earlier that evening.

Uh no. Sure enough before daybreak I was bent over the basin ridding my body of the little muchacha´s poison. We both slept until 1pm this day and louned around the pool like slugs toopained to do anything. We both agreed it was nothing near the worst such experience we´d had in our lives but our affirmations about ¨Being Healthy throughut America del Sur¨quickly had to be re-written. Ugg.

We slowly got back to OKsville and by the next day we were eating and I was back exercising. Stacy was not 100 percent bt doing better. To say that we began paying more for food goes without saying. Andy, there are some things that you cannot chince on is hte lesson I learned.

We also met 2 Brazilian sisters, Kate and...(damn we can´t recall). We had lots of convos with Kate and enjoyed 2 dinners with her. She has the traveling bug too! Not that bug, but the good one thta keeps us on the move! Are we going to Brazil she asked and Stacy and I looked at each other...¨Maybe? Is that an invitation?¨ We had a nce group of amigos and amigas going here and happened to meet some Argentinians as well. Pablo helped me with espanol one day in the pool and his sister and friend welcomed us into their Yerba Mate tea circle. We wer thinking of heading north to Ecuador and now we are being invited South to the big countries down there. We´ll see.

On Monday we took yet another overnight bus trip. This one on CIFA, going to Ecuador. We had heard about sketchy night buses and not to go with CIFA. What did we do?? Oh well. It was fine actully. Despite having to get on and off hte bus thrice for various immigation and policia checks we drove through th eheavy rains, into Guayquil. This town is Ecuador´s largest city, but not its capital. that is Quito. We were dropped right on time at 6am at the largest and most impressive bus depot EVER!! It was like a massive socol indoor mall with 3 levels, directories to help and people all over, even at this early hour. Stacy spotted stall number 26 and we were buying our ticket to Puerto Lopez. You know, Puerto Lopez! Ha! Its the closest mainland city to the galapagos and it has Ecuador´s only coastal National Park and we are read for hiking and diving!!!! We were rushed up stairs (escalators actually) and onto the 615 bus. 4 hours for 4 bucks. The rain was pouring, but the angst we had been worried about yesterday had passed. We made teh 2nd bus.

Next Stop, Puerto Lopez!!!

Caught between hello and goodbye

2009-02-05T12:10:00.000-08:00

Hola amigos and amigas! I write from the coastal vacation spot of Mancura, Peru. We first arrived in Lima on Tuesday, Feb. 3rd around 5:30 am. Off on the road again. Home, road, home, road, home, road. Which is it going to be!?!?! I am a little confused I must admit. But for now it is the road. Bring it on!

In our attempt to flag a bus or taxi al aeropuerto we met a fellow who was on the hunt as well, but he knew el autobus was not his desire. ¨Be careful,¨he warned Stacy as he walked past her toward the main road outside the confines of the airport. The bus would be cheap if the wife and I found the one with an ¨S¨ but there are so many little buses and equally as many cabbies trying to solicit our business. ¨Geez,¨ our exhausted faces said to each other. Carlos, the man with the words of warning, was looking for someone to split a cab with so I caught up with him and suggested we were his compadres. He flagged an accommodating taxi and for 30 nuevos soles (approx. $9.50 US) we were on our way. C-los happened to be on the same flights from San Francisco and Miami. He was Peruvian but had lived in SF for nearly 18 years. No kidding?¨ I knew both Stacy and I were thinking it, but I voiced it. We were ALMOST in an accident a handful of times, and as Carlos tried to apologize for his countrymen´s driving we laughed and said we´d been to SE Asia. Sorry, but this ain´t nada.

Carlos had the cabbie drop us in Miraflores, a newer part of Lima and told us about a place for great coffee & desayuna. We said adios but knew we´d see him again soon because he told us he was going to travel in the same direction we were headed, to Mancura and to the SAME exact bungalows. I ask, what are the chances, really? Unreal.

Stacy had booked a short 17 hour bus trip (!?!?!) on Cruz del Sur via the magic of the InterWeb a few days ago, so we had 7+ hours to kill here in town. Delicious churros y cafe plus an omelette, know aqui as a tortilla. We were back on chill mode, killing time and catching up on lost journal moments from the past weeks. It was warm and somewhat humid. We decided to rest on the grass in Kennedy Park in central Miraflores. That is until we were shooed off the grass by a nice civil servant just doing his trabajo. We tried the curved benches of a rotunda only meters away on the concrete of the park but soon were told in Spanish by a different guy not to lay on the bench. ¨We just want to take a nap, dude!¨ A restful experience it was not and with the third conversation with the MAN that was basically about Stacy closing her eyes and sleeping, we decided enough was definitely enough and went searching for internet. Ugg.

An hour typing and then some grocery shopping were the precursors to a long hike to our bus terminal. We stopped for some ceviche and cerveza at the Blue Dorado restaurante and headed north along the broad center divider, fully equiped for walkers. Cool, so walking is OK here I guess, just not quiet time. Hundreds of little motorcycle-rickshaws passed by but we figured an hour walk would serve us well if 17 hours of sitting was in store. We fanally made it to Cruz del Sur and asientos (seats) siete y ocho. The air conditioning was strong and the seats kicked back better than our American Airlines ones. Nice. We were off and happy to be able to rest. Hollywood movies with Spanish dubbing and Portuguese sub-titles blared on the TVs, (Ingles is not widespread here, fyi) but we were happy to be on the move to our paradisical beach. Before darkness stole the light from us I could see that the landscape was extremely arid and sandy desert stretched as far as one could see. The coast was off to our left somewhere over a dune. I thought to myself how we would be the perfect bus to hyjack out in the middle of nowhere. No towns, nary another vehicle besides giant dump trucks or semis. Time to put those thoughts to rest. Goodnight.

Luckily, all went smooth and without a single petrol stop (how is that possible by the way?) we arrived in Mancura town safe and sound. The sun is hot here, but not too humid surprisingly. Our whiteness and tendency to burn is magnified by the fact that we started taking our malaria pills this morning. We are sun-sensitive for sure, but with SPF 30 in hand we hope to survive. Beach, a pool, song pajaros(birds)some comida (food) and a book proposal to finish. These are the things that make up our waking hours.

I must admit that as I sit hear in Mancura, Peru on the northwest coast of the country, I feel I am floating in limbo. We have now said goodbye to our loved ones for the third time in 12 months, this includes parents and the dog. We are living our dream but at the same time struggle with aimlessness and purpose. Our hearts agree that this is the time of our lives and we are amidst a great journey, but my mind is still caught up in my current past of logistics and planning. What next? Why? How long? and When? I do not have any of thee answers for my mind but with some good heart to hearts with Stacy feel a lot better about our NOW. She has taught me the benefit of discussion and truth, to one another and to one´s self. I have discussed my feelings with her, written them down for me and embraced the fact that I am going through these emotions, rather than sweep them under the rug. I feel extremely confident that with Stacy by my side all of this anxiety will quickly subside and we will have the experience of a lifetime, together...once again!

Hasta Luego>!!

Calling All Book Proposal Reviewers

2009-01-14T10:16:00.000-08:00

Yes, it's true. Andy and I are writing a book. What began as an expedition of travel and adventure also became a journey of personal self and relationship discovery. We have a story to tell, but we need your help.

I am asking for volunteers to read the book proposal. It needs to be the very best it can be before we distribute to book agents. If you are interested in sharing honest feedback, please email: ASBergdahl@gmail.com. We will email you the proposal in MS Word with a list of what we are looking for.

Today is our last day in Southern California before we leave for Arizona to see Jeff, Caitlin and baby Zack for a few days. Next we take a road trip to visit the beautiful Southwest: the Grand Canyon, Bryce Canyon, Zion and Arches National Parks. We'll head over the Rocky Mountains and stop in Cascade, Colorado to visit my Mom and her boyfriend Edward. We leave for South America on February 2 from San Francisco, and looking forward to seeing our friends and family there for a few days before saying ADIOS to North America.

Thank you for your consideration, and please stay in touch either way!

Email: ASBergdahl@gmail.com

Hello California, It's Been a While

2008-12-09T23:12:00.000-08:00

I have mixed emotions about being back at home after three months. On the one hand, it is unbeatable to spend time with loved ones. It's gratifying to swap stories and reconnect with those who know me inside and out. The sun is shining and it's 70 degrees during the day - heck, I am wearing flip flops in San Diego after months in a down parka, gloves and scarf. However, my daily life is more stressful. Cell phones, driving in traffic, "to do" lists and other logistics tire me out in a way I haven't felt in a long while.

Life becomes surprisingly simple when you live out of a backpack. That 25 pounds housed all I needed for 1/4 of a year tramping all over Europe. Can it be true? You mean I don't need a car? Or a house with the loads of items that fill it? There is no such thing as Target? I learned that I don't need any of these "things" to be happy in life. Racing from train to train to bus to train was a whirlwind of activity, whisking away from one city to the next mountain village. But as soon as that metro door closed behind us with our hearts beating quickly, a sense of satisfaction washed over as we found a pair of seats and read a book or journaled until the next stop. It was so much fun. Carefree in fact. When we missed our train or the bus whizzesd right past us, so what? It's not like we have a meeting to attend to or a dinner we can't miss. What a joy it was to live each day completely in the present moment: walking, hiking, stretching, eating and writing. I can get used to this.

Traveling all over the world for the last 10 months has widened my tunnel vision to a girth I never knew existed. And going to South America next will widen it even more. This is why I am passionate about travel. I see and experienced things I never conceived and am awed at its magic.

Now, back to my cell phone.

10 Ways to Visit Europe and Save Money

2008-12-04T08:37:00.000-08:00

There is no question that a holiday in Europe can be expensive. Transportation, accommodation, food and souvenirs add up each day. However, there are a number of ways that you can save money yet still have a wonderful and memorable experience.

1. Travel During the Off-Season. Summer (June – August) and the holiday season (December) are the most popular times to visit Europe and therefore the rates are highest. Choose to travel during the spring and autumn months when crowds are thinner, the weather is nicer and prices on airfare and room rates drop 20 – 50%. It is often less expensive to fly on Tuesdays and Wednesdays to boot.

2. Visit a Country or City Off the Beaten Track. Paris, Rome, London, Prague…if you haven’t visited these cites, one day you certainly need to go. But if traveling on a budget is your current focus then these are not the cities to visit now. There are dozens of places that are quite remarkable that are not nearly as expensive. The Eastern European countries and Portugal tend to be the most cost-effective. If you prefer to visit Western Europe, simply travel to places that are less popular and less expensive. For example, the Loire Valley just outside of Paris is stunning, covered in ancient castles in the middle of wine country. Or visit Cesky Krumlov in the Czech Republic which is known as a “pocket-sized Prague” with half the tourists at a fraction of the cost.

3. Holiday Apartment Rentals. Instead of pricey hotels, seek out holiday apartment rentals. The best resources online are www.craigslist.org and www.vrbo.org. Both websites offer photos and information on thousands of independently owned apartments in cities all over Europe. During the off-season, remember to negotiate the price and you’ll be surprised how many rentals bite. Think about it: it’s better for them to rent to you for a lower price than have their rental go empty for a week or weekend. Remember that most apartments will have a kitchen, so go to the local supermarket and cook and save even more!

4. Picnic. All over Europe there are thousands of beautiful plazas and parks to relax in with a picnic lunch. Shop at the local markets for bread, cheese, salami, fresh fruit and a bottle of wine. Ask the shopkeepers for the local specialty and try it. The price is right, the taste is delicious and the memory unforgettable.

5. Buy Local Beverages. Each region in every country in Europe is known for a special wine, beer, liqueur or other beverage. Reference your tour book, an information center or simply read a menu outside of a restaurant for an idea of what the local specialty is and there is no doubt that you can get a delicious mug of beer or bottle of wine for a just a few dollars. Remember that soda is often very expensive. Also, the tap water is fine to drink (and free). Refill and reuse your water bottles.

6. Seek Out Discounts and Free Activities. There are a number of free activities in Europe. During warmer months there are plenty of complimentary outdoor festivals and other events (check out www.whatsonwhen.com). Wine tasting is generally free as well. If you are an outdoor enthusiast, hiking trails are at your fingertips all over the continent. Some cities even offer city tours with the sole expectation of just a few Euros for a tip. Museums in London are free. Check museum websites in advance to find out which days and times discounts are offered. Often there are group, student, senior and child discounts and if you don’t see it mentioned, just ask.

7. Package Ticket Purchases. If you love museums, cities such as Paris and Amsterdam offer a “Museum Pass” that allows entry into multiple museums at a discounted price. You can do the same thing in many cities with a subway and a train. If you are planning to visit multiple countries, check out www.eurail.com to see if a bundled train ticket is right for you – it is possible to save hundreds of dollars!

8. Use Public Transportation. The European Union invests quite a bit of money into its infrastructure. The end result is public transportation that is quick, efficient and cost-effective. We all know how pricey taxis can be. Instead, spend 5 minutes and figure out how take the subway, bus and/or train. It’s much more relaxing, too!

9. Eat and Shop Away From the Main Tourist Trail. There is no doubt that in European cities the shopkeepers know where the tourists go. Just venture off the main streets a block or two and pop your head into a restaurant to see if they are speaking English or the local language. Chances are if you hear locals, the prices will be lower and the food much better. With regards to shopping, you will find better prices on many of the same items if you walk a few blocks away from a main tourist street or attraction. In some places, bartering is acceptable so if you do not see a price posted, name a price and negotiate from there.

10. Volunteer or Couch Surf. There are a handful of volunteer organizations that exchange work for room and board. For example, World Wide Opportunities on Organic Farms (WWOOF, www.wwoof.org) is an organization that promotes organic farming. A traveler works for 4 hours a day on an organic farm in exchange for a place to sleep and eat. Another way to sleep for free (and not work) is Couch Surfing (www.couchsurfing.com). Check out the website for details.

With these tips in mind, you can visit and thoroughly enjoy a holiday in Europe and save money. Simply create a budget and stick to it and you will have a vacation filled with memorable experiences – and Euros left in your pocket. (By Stacy Bergdahl Copyright 2008)

Working in Rural France

2008-11-23T05:34:00.000-08:00

From France: WWOOFing in Collognes

I have lost count of the number of times on this world trip that we have ended up somewhere completely unexpected and turned out to be wonderful. Is it luck? Our attitude? An unknown force pushing us down a path meant to be? For the second time on this world trip we WWOOFed but this time in rural France instead of New Zealand. WWOOF stands for World Wide Opportunities on Organic Farms and the way it works is you stay with a family and work for them 4-6 hours per day in exchange for room and board. The idea is to learn about organic farming, green and biological living as well as the family life.

And what a unique experience it was. We were in the south of France, but not the French Riviera as you might imagine. With no neighbors in sight, we were outside of a tiny village called Collongues in the Provence region in the Maritime Alps (2 hours north of Cannes/Nice). Our host, Christian, picked us up at the train station (if you can call it that) and drove us the 19km to his house up a steep and curvy mountain road. He spoke English quite well which is perfect because Andy ended up working with him during the days on a wooden pool deck, getting the garden ready for the spring with compost and a tractor as well as helping to make a wooden door. Laure, his wife, spoke little English. It was a perfect opportunity for me because I used to be fluent in French but over the years I have forgotten quite a bit. I was astounded at just how much flowed back to me when Laure told me stories throughout the day as we worked in the kitchen or outside in the garden. Stories about her passion of aromatherapy and herbology, her experiences teaching Montassouri School, her love of non-pasteurized French cheese, directions on how to make true French bread or anything organically related. French words were swimming in my head and it was such a special gift to have the vocabulary come back to me in the way that it did! I love that I translated for Andy and Laure at the dinner table as the conversation flowed in a combination of both languages over a meal of wild boar (complete with buckshots), roquefurt and compte cheese and fresh tea from the local wild herbs. In the last 9 months traveling all over the world, we have spent much time against a language barrier. Honestly, I have felt inadequate and a bit bad that we require others to speak our language – it feels so ethnocentric. Finally, I feel satisfied that I had the opportunity to give back with my words in THEIR language. C’est vraiment magnifique!

Laure, Christian and their 6-year-old son Tom live in a house that Christian built 8 years ago complete with solar power and ecological materials throughout. The original stone building was built by the Knight’s Templar in the 13th century and while there is not much of the original house left, there is one wall with initial cross engravings in a shale stone archway. Pretty cool. Seven mountain ranges are visible in a 360 degree view including the snow covered French and Italian Alps. Badgers, wild boar, deer, birds and wild goats are aplenty. Not a single other person or house was in sight. It’s truly a mountain paradise. They are big on minimal environmental impact and all things green. I am pleased to have learned how to make organic jams, make effective compost and improve my French. Though I have also learned something new about myself during this experience. It is and always will be important for me to make choices that are natural, eco-friendly and healthy. However, I won’t be one to freak out if one day my child eats honey with some added sugar or if Andy forgets to reuse a plastic bag. While these things are incredibly important to me, I will choose not let it rule the level of my happiness or judge others because they don’t make the same choices.

The trio certainly is isolated there and part of the reason they host WWOOFers (in addition to the work) is the companionship and the social interaction for Tom. It’s perfect for Andy and I too to spend some time apart. Can you imagine spending 24 hours per day/7 days per week with a single person? It’s absolutely wonderful yet also quite difficult at times. We haven’t written too much about it in the blog thus far because we have to leave some surprises for the book we are going to publishJ

I would like to speak to that for just a moment. As you can imagine, on a trip like this one has lots and lots of time to think. What truly makes us happy? What do we want to do for the rest of our lives together? What is the most important? Etc. To start, we are going to publish a book based on our travel experiences. But what will make it especially unique is that it will come from both Andy and my voices with an intimate look into our relationship in the backdrop of traveling the world.

WE WOULD LOVE TO HAVE HONEST FEEDBACK ON OUR WRITING. PLEASE EMAIL ASBergdahl@gmail.com IF YOU HAVE SOMETHING TO SHARE! Thank you.

NERD ALERT!

2008-11-20T20:04:00.000-08:00

Beware, I tell you. Keep your eyes peeled always, in case you see them wandering by. Be quiet, hold your position and look for that tell-tale sign, one that has become unmistakable over the past nine months.

If the Berglons appear at your front door or perhaps phone you and ask about sleeping over, just watch out! Make sure they do not have their signature piece of coveted property in hand, their journals!

If they do, follow these important Rules of Engagement:

1) Hide all of your brochures, newspapers, magazines or photographs
2) Keep scissors & glue hidden
3) Do not make the experience memorable or you may discover later that you are missing one of grandma’s lace napkins

Nine months with nothing to do – no work, no agendas, no meetings to attend, no alarms to wake up to (well, not many) - will do crazy things to a person, or persons for that matter. Maintaining a written journal has filled that void, almost to an obsessive level. As each day passes, finding time for Berglon Journal Hour becomes more and more critical, TO THEM!

If a napkin has a pretty picture, you might find Andy folding and licking and ripping and gluing. Or if a future goal crosses Stacy’s mind, the colored pencils may find their way to paper and then…?? Panoramic vistas need to be drawn, beer bottle labels must be peeled and stuck, a well-used map or memorable train ticket? GOLD I tell ya!! Armed with nine journals in nine months between the two, make these two a scary prospect for any castle handout or already-been-used pass or ticket. Instead of the trash where such sought after items might normally find themselves, they end up stuck in a book forever with these two.

Beware!!!

WI-FIght It?

2008-11-12T10:27:00.000-08:00

The even flow of our world travels, that is. For 6 months we circumnavigated the globe with nary a care in the world, besides getting to the next bus, finding a place to sleep and eats of course, we were living in the NOW! Living each day for what it was and barely thinking past the tips of our noses. Two months into Leg #2, and railroading our way through Europa, our experience has definitely been a different one. Sure, the environs are uniquely varied, the language, historic castles everywhere!! But where I find the most variance is at the computer, as we email or phone about the next accommodation possibility. Apartment, single room, cozy cottage, it doesn’t matter, our needs are the same: kitchen, close proximity to public transport, near to the city centre or as far away as possible (depending on our mood) and INTERNET!

Talk about reality interrupting a good time!?! Internet? Really?? WIFI would be ideal thank you very much. We travel with the 17” silver Macintosh. You know, the thin one with the nice little half-eaten apple? I am working for my past employer this winter on the production of the Rose Bowl Game, which takes place on January 1st on ABC by the way.

From Germany: Neuschwanstein Castle

That being the case, keeping in touch has never been more important. Skype conference calls, emails and excel documents are now part of this world adventure. Sorry babe. Nothing like traveling with a little piece of home, right? So now, in an effort to work in the privacy of our own ‘home of the week’, we follow the WIFI signals. When we first get the keys to our new place, we do not jump on the bed or check out the kitchen accoutrements, we sit down, whip out the computer and test the signal.

Sometimes, it goes great! Like Luca’s House in Amsterdam, we actually had a hard line in our room. When I didn’t trip over the blue coaxial coming from the hallway, it worked amazing. Or at Thomas’ house we were linked into his home signal, sweet! We had to remind each other we were in the room sometimes, we were so entranced.

Other times it doesn’t go so perfectly. In places like Prague or Cesky Krumlov in the Czech Republic or in fact this place we are right now in the Dolomites. We had been sold on the place with the opportunity for connecting of course. But upon arrival, it was determined on all occasions that either there was a broken signal or none at all inside the cozy confines. But, luckily enough for us, if we sat at the base of the stairs on the way out of the buildings, we could get a nice strong connection. “Honey, are you going to check email? Don’t forget your beanie & blanket.”

From Italy: Hike to Prager Wildsee (Dolomites)

On a few occasions, the hotel at Disney Paris for example, we had WIFI in the lobby, but not in the room (not in the room, Disney? Seriously?). We had to buy an hourly internet card for too many Euros and then we could sit in front of the giant Sequoia fireplace, or in the bar, and 21st Century ourselves into a frenzy. “Where is my wife anyways?”

Often I walk around holding the Mac in my arms searching for a signal, like the guy at the beach you see looking for your forgotten gold watch or a penny in the sand. There has got to be a better way, Andy. There are 11th Century chapels, cobblestone roads and Alpine peaks outside and you are in here like a chicken with your head cut off.

Nevertheless, this is the world we live in wouldn’t you agree? This is the world we are living in now everyday as we embark on every new interlude. It was a blessing in disguise when we had our wonderful place in rural Czech Republic. Fireplace - yes, wood-burning stove - check, Internet – HELL NO!

I ask you, what happened to the simple things in life?

Have you ever wondered?

2008-11-10T14:07:00.000-08:00

Well, to be honest, I never had. In fact, the prospect had never crossed my mind. Not until I was drawn to that little picture was I able to cognitively form the thought. The drawing was on the label. It drew me in, intrigued me a little. Could it be? Does Stacy know? Doubtful.

As it were, Stacy & I have found ourselves in the majesty of the Dolomite Mountains, somewhere lost in the cultural divide of Austria, Germany & Italy.; a place where no one really knows which language to speak, but definitely not the English one. What an incredibly beautiful place, especially in this, the off-season which we lucked into by happenstance.

From Italy: The Dolomites in the Alps

As we love to do, we shop for our meals, if we go out to eat 1 meal in 10 its an anomaly. Bread, cheese, veggies, fruit, muesli, wine of course & salami are all staples in our worldly diet (at least now that we have left SE Asia!). Picnic style is Berglon Style!

As I prepared our homemade pizza dinner a few days ago at the wonderful place we call home, the Maurerhof House, I saw something that would shape our grocery shopping forever. It has become one of those unpredictable tidbits that crosses your path and is always remembered. Like the crazy camp dude in Upper Hutt, NZ or the vicious overnight buses in Vietnam, these moments are the ones that make us laugh and cringe all at once.

The toppings I’d planned (yes, I cook occasionally) were fresh tomatoes, zucchini, mozz and salami. I always like to do my best Benihana chop on the cutting board when I get the chance and this night was no exception. But when it came to the phalic paper-encased salami I had to stop and look closer. My Italian comprehension escaped me at the time (shocker!), but the black & white line-drawn image on the label could not be more palpable. Cacciatore Equino, the label read, which, along with the image seen here,

From Milking a Cow?

was all the evidence this detective needed, to know that rides on the ranch and Elmer’s glue were not the only things our favorite 4-legged stallions were good for.

Cacciatore Equino has a distinct smoky flavor, but honestly, I would not have thought twice about sinking my teeth into it otherwise. Nevertheless, I did not download the news to the wife until AFTER she loved the pizza. “Honey, guess what?”

Needless to say, that will be our last experiment with horse meat…hopefully.

Cheque Please!

Adventures in the Dolomites

2008-11-10T03:43:00.000-08:00

From Italy: Hike to Prager Wildsee (Dolomites)">Now, in my silent moments, I remember that Obama is the president-elect and I become giddy as a child with a bit of a squeal and a quick hop up and down. I just finished his book as tears streamed down my face with the inside knowledge of his essence. I am filled with joy knowing that this man just changed the vector of the Earth’s course in a positive direction. Yes, hope is alive and well!

Andy and I are in the Dolomites, a unique section of the Alps in Northern Italy close to the Austrian border. It is a fusion of both cultures in architecture, food and language. Danke and grazi both work. We found a contemporary 1-bedroom apartment just outside of a tiny village called Stefansdorf at 962 meters (~3,100 feet) located on a small farm. Each morning we are enjoying fresh milk from one of the 15 cows with our coffee and muesli. November is the only month of the off-season all year as it is well past the warm months but there is no snow yet for skiing. We can see the Kronplatz mountaintop/ski resort from our 3rd floor balcony. I learned from our host Marcus that we are his first American guests. Forst (Forest) beer is the local brew and quite tasty.

Recently, we’ve been challenging ourselves both mentally and physically. The other day, a mountain bike ride into the town Brunico (in Italian) or Bruneck (in German) 5 km away took us down 100 meters, knowing we’d have to make the climb back up. We discovered an old castle on the hill and a forest cemetery – the most unique and beautiful I have ever seen (photo).

From Italy: The Dolomites in the Alps

Since there was an actual supermarket here, we loaded up our backpacks full of food (and wine of course) and trudged up the steep hill, sweating and panting all the way.

Another great challenge was our hike yesterday. Photo Album. We explained to Marcus that we wanted to embark on a day hike in the classic Dolomites (giant, jagged limestone peaks) and he suggested starting at Pragser Wildee, an azure glacial lake. Perfect. Marcus kindly drove us to the train station where we needed to switch to a bus in Welsberg, except there was no bus. We must have had an old schedule because this bus doesn’t run on Sunday, we learned through broken English and hand signals from a local. Now what? Our map showed that we could hike to Prager Wildsee from here. Our eyes looked to the direction of the lake which was directly over a giant mountain. Topographically, the map said it was about a 920 meter climb up and over and total trek of 4 ½ hours. Well, what the hell, we are here to hike – let’s go.

Impressively, the trail was marked well much like New Zealand’s effiicient trail directives. I experienced my first feeling of vertigo as we traversed the mountainside with it straight up on one side and straight down the other. Dizziness at this high elevation hiking already for an hour uphill caused me to sit on a mossy stump with my back to the valley slope. I panted with my head between my knees until my heart slowed down and the dizziness passed. Onward and upward.

Finally, after singing all the Christmas songs I could remember, we approached the summit and what a beautiful sight it was with the classic snow-covered Alps on the one side with the grey, jagged Dolomite peaks on the other! But it was below freezing, clearly, as we passed patches of large snowflakes on the mossy ground as we walked along the ridge at 2020 meters. And look – there is Prager Wildsee!

We stopped for a picnic lunch along a meadow in the shining sun facing the Dolomites and relaxed for a half hour with a beautiful view. A sense of satisfaction washed over us as our destination stared back at us from below. In 3 hours, we passed only 4 people.

A couple of kilometers along the road finally got us to the lake. We had a look at the permanent sign at the lakefront to see just how far we’d gone when Andy stepped in dog poo, ha ha! Ok, now we are here – now what? Surprisingly, the souvenir shop at the hotel on the lake was open so we popped inside. I tentatively asked, “Spreken zie Englick?” when the clerk answered “Yes” to my great surprise (no one around here speaks any English!!!). We chatted with Yas for a while, checking out his shop and learning he had lived in Santa Barbara, CA for 6 months – what a small world. We bought cappuccinos and relished in the indoor warmth as we explained about no bus, the hike over the mountain and would he mind calling us a taxi? Yas happened to be driving near the train station in an hour with his son and could give us a ride. Great! We played with his giant Newfoundland puppy named Happy, and that is just how we felt.

A day of unexpectedness turned into a wonderful memory. I am consistently in awe at when we as humans let go and surrender to what is, the most beautiful and magical things happen if you let them.

OBAMA 2009 – 2012. Yes We Can!

2008-11-05T04:15:00.000-08:00

I knew that I would cry either way on November 4, and thankfully they were tears of joy! We are back in Munich, Germany with our wonderful friends Robert and Simone who invited us back to see the concert Osaka Monaurail (Tramp Records), a Japanese funk band. An unprecedented band to celebrate with an unprecedented new President of the USA. Hell yes.

The evening began with a crew of 15 Germans for a pre-party at Simone & Robert’s flat with Tegernseer beers and sounds of late 60s hard funk to set the mood right. It was special to drink this Bavarian microbrew because on Monday, Rob took us to Tegern Lake (seer is lake in German) on a hike. We climbed 500 meters to an alpine mountaintop with stunning views of the rugged Alps in the distance (photos to come).

A 20-minute walk through downtown Munich took us to the Atomic Café packed to the gills with very tall men and women. In a sea of Germans, Andy has never seemed so short to me! We anxiously awaited Osaka Monaurail amidst the electric air with anticipation for not only the band, but also the election results.

“We have a special show for you tonight,” the singer says, “an opportunity. I want you to let it go. Let the music move you in any way you like. Don’t fight it folks, just get fuuuuuuuunky!”

And damn, the funk rocked the house! In true James Brown style, the lead singer had the moves getting sideways and the sounds of “ooowww!” escaping from his contorted mouth. We took a break from shaking our booties to have a drink – a specialty beverage called the “Barack Obama” – port wine and brandy on ice with a twist of lime. Video footage from CNN filled the big screen as sound shots from the news mixed in DJ style with the music adding to the crowd’s excitement. We danced the night away.

It is interesting to be in a foreign country and hear opinions about the US Elections. It’s amazing to me how much Germans care, and have been waiting just like us with baited breath. In fact, there is a German newspaper SZ that took a poll of their German readers who they want to win the US election. An astounding 94% want Obama.

Before today, in my silent moments on the train or waiting for the bus, I found myself wishing for Obama’s victory. I prayed that he will have the opportunity make a change in our spiraling world and fix our image as Americans. Andy asked me, “But what in your daily life will really change if Obama is elected?” After careful thought I replied, “It will give me hope.”

I’ve wanted to be proud to be an American citizen and quite frankly I have been somewhat embarrassed. Traveling the world for 8 months we get the question a lot and I have wished I could answer differently. I am sad for myself reading that statement. But now, I smile as I look forward to saying that I am proud to be an American. This is a beautiful, magical day for us.

Thank you, Mr. Obama. You are the face of hope in our world!

From Germany: Neuschwanstein Castle

P.S. I am reading his 1994 book at the moment entitled “Dreams From My Father.” I recommend it!

Prague and Cesky Krumlov

2008-10-27T15:55:00.001-07:00

The Czech Republic is the European Laos for me: I had heard of it but couldn't be sure which country it was on a world map. Upon arrival and discovery, it becomes one of the most beautiful and memorable parts of our trip. It goes without saying that the culture here is quite different from Laos'! But it's nice to be pleasantly surprised from a wild-card country.

Craigslist is an ingenious website and I am sure many of you would agree. But did you know that you can search for vacation rentals in foreign cities like Prague and negotiate prices lower fairly successfully during the off season? Try it. We found a beautiful apartment with cathedral ceilings in the city center for 4 nights and my favorite part - a big kitchen to cook in. Yes, this is Stacy writing if you couldn't tell. Andy is sleeping now so he can get up at 2:30am and listen online to MNF. Seriously!

Prague, the "city of 100 spires" is a setting directly out of a fairy tale. A giant castle (the largest and most ancient in the world) sits on top of a hill lit up in all its glory at night. The Charles Bridge suspended over the River Vltava is magical with its dozens of blackened statues lining the sides. Enough with the verbal imagery. Check out the photo album.

A highlight for us was watching a live orchestra play Mozart, Vivaldi and Bach (for 300 Czech Crowns, or about $15) in a beautiful old church in Old Town Square called St. Nicholas. The acoustics were just perfect inside, and we were delighted by the fresco paintings and giant crystal chandelier while listening to the music in the ancient setting. A quintessential Eastern European woman about the size of a linebacker sang opera during the 20 minutes of Vivaldi with her dark black hair in a low chignon and bright red cheeks and lips. Her voice was magic!

Now, we are in Cesky Krumlov in the south toward the Austrian border. We were recommended to visit this medieval town off the beaten path by Mr. Tightie Whitie himself (see Andy's last blog entry) and glad we followed his advice. This "pocket sized Prague" has a small fraction of the tourists and is surrounded by mountains and trees yet has the same elements of Prague on a smaller level. Tonight we had out first traditional Czech meal - beef goulash, cabbage and bread dumplings for me. Sounds like crap, but surprisingly delicious! We ducked inside a local's place for half the price and sure glad we did. Local beer (Pilsner Urquell, Eggenberg, Bernard Pivo) is the equivalent of $1 for 0.5 L! One liter at Oktoberfest was about 9 Euro, or $12. Europe doesn't have to be expensive - just go east.

Visiting cities, dodging tourists and seeing old buildings. More cities, more tourists and more old buildings. I have been inside more churches in the last 6 weeks in Europe than in my entire life. That has been the story of our lives and we are ready for a CHANGE. So a change we will have...tomorrow we leave to the Bohemian forest to spend 5-6 days in a cabin in the woods without contact with the outside world near a village near a city I still can't locate on a map. Time to hike, read books, cook and sit by the fire! The forecast calls for snow. Good thing I have my eskimo coat.

Paris has that...Je ne sais quoi

2008-10-19T12:46:00.000-07:00

Finally, I am able to put five years of studying French into good use. It’s amazing just how much comes back to me when surrounded by le francais. Plus, the French are nicer when you speak their native tongue. Simply learn “bonjour” and “merci” with a smile – I promise it will work wonders! We arrived here on Thursday, October 16 (after waking up at 4:15am only to miss a train connection and forced to buy a new ticket) with Andy’s friend Danny from work who picked us up at the Brussels train station. Paris is the anomaly on the trip so far as we had this planned long in advance because we are here to WORK! What is that again? Yes indeed, Andy coordinated two days of on-site work at an event here at the Paris Disneyland Resort in exchange for five nights accommodation and some much-needed Euros. Tres bien!

Paris…the land of berets, skinny moustaches and the Eiffel Tower (among other things of course). I put my tour guide hat on for Andy in the city as I have been here a number of times over the years and this is his first French experience. It was a bit of a tease to stay at the Disneyland Resort for two days before even setting foot in the city center. Not to mention the screaming little ones and strollers all around. Did I mention we are not ready for kids yet? On Saturday we finally ventured in on the RER A Train and popped up from the underground Metro beside the grandiose L’Arc de Triomphe and a bright sunshine-y day. It was a marvel to see the 8 unmarked lanes of traffic circling the 12-sided star of lanes spewing out from the circle around the giant arch. Next, we cruised down Le Champs Elysees and peeked in at the fancy pants shops that one day we will be able to afford to actually shop in. We meandered through to Pont Neuf and Jardin de Tuileries before sitting down to taste a crepe and a glass of red wine at a brasserie. Next, my favorite cathedral – St. Chapelle – where 1,113 scenes depicted in 15 giant stained glass windows tell the story of mankind through Christ’s resurrection in sequential order. I’m not Christian though I still truly appreciate this beautiful and stunning masterpiece built in 1247.

Now, let’s talk more about my favorite part of Europe…food and beverage. France is known for its fresh, local cuisine from specialty shops. After seeing a beautiful hilltop view of the city from Montmartre’s Sacre Coeur, we stopped into le boulangerie for a couple of baguettes, le fromagerie for Manchego, Chevre Rocamadour and Brie cheeses and le vinerie for a bottle of Cotes du Rhone. Picnic-style, we found a bench at dusk and sat down with our fresh goods. I can honestly say that this baguette was the very best I have ever tasted! Andy pulled off the first piece and I could see the steam rising from the interior, clearly fresh from the oven. Like a true gentleman, he handed the piece to me and it was doughy and holey in the middle surrounded by a crunchy and perfectly golden crust baked with just the right amount of oil and salt. The result was an absolutely perfect combination of flavor and texture. Magnifique! Manchego is a hard white cheese with a deliciously robust flavor and melted ever so slightly on the hot bread. After washing each bite down with a sip of the fruity yet dry red wine, our tastebuds were in heaven once more. I could eat like this every day.

The Louvre, the Seine and sipping kir at a French restaurant also made our time in Paris enjoyable. But the very best sight was the Eiffel Tower. Why, you ask? Yes, it’s just a bunch of metal. We arrived at dusk to just that – a bunch of metal. But as day turned into night, the tower was illuminated with colors of bright blue and purple. We strolled to the adjacent park to get a better view of this famous Paris icon and without warning it began blinking all over with white lights like a sparkler on the 4th of July. A wonderful gift from Paris we will remember forever.

Belgium: Beer and French Fry Heaven

2008-10-19T10:37:00.000-07:00

Eating our way around the European Union is already one of the most memorable and enjoyable of my experiences thus far. And this deliciousness happens to me every single day! After a while, the beautiful old buildings and artwork start to blend together, starting to lose luster. Don't get me wrong, I have enjoyed those in their own right. But just try spending two months in Asia without good wine, bread or cheese - you will appreciate it! I'll name just two delicious treats for now.

We began in a village just outside of Antwerp called Zwijndrect. Andy's friend Thomas (from work), his wife Mathilde, two dogs and a cat live there in a quaint "smurf house" as they called it. (Photo Album.) They introduced us to the most delicious French fries I have ever tasted. And I don't even eat French fries! Why are they so good? They are deep fried twice. And somehow they are tasty with a load of mayonnaise on top. It tastes different than mayo from America - the Belgian mayo is creamier and less mayonnaise-y somehow.

Next, Belgian beer to wash down those frites. Duvel ("Devil"), Hoogarten (white), Bolleke and Kriek (cherry) to start. Most Belgian beers seem to have over 9% alcohol. Now that's bang for your buck! The very best experience, however, was our excursion to Brugge. (Photo Album.) It's a perfectly preserved medieval canal city with more than 200 beers that each have their own special glass with a special shape to maximize the beer's qualities. When I visited here in 2000 with my Dad we found a secret pub recommended by a local for the "best beer in Brugge." A turn down a tiny cobblestone alleyway that looks more like a doorway takes you to Van de Garre. We trucked up the narrow spiral staircase to the second floor in this building from the 1400s. An exclusive Trappist Monk beer is brewed here called the Tripel van de Garre. In Belgian beer-speak, this indicates the strongest beer in their range - this one at 11%.

Definitely a sipping beer that leaves a delicious taste...and buzz.

Amsterdam

2008-10-12T03:06:00.000-07:00

Photo Album. I am ill for the first time during our world travels. Not sure if it was the cold weather change, the Oktoberfest craze or what, but when we arrived in Amsterdam on the morning of October 7 after an overnight train ride my nose was a faucet and my throat was quite swollen. Alas. Amsterdam would be the perfect place to rest for 5 days.

Andy and I arrived at "Luca's House," a room rental in a flat we found on Craigslist. The location was just perfect in a quiet neighborhood south of the Jordaan District. Our hostess was very kind and courteous and my eyes opened wide at the sight of a large, comfortable and cozy bed. My fuel tank was empty and I needed rest like a fish needs water. I slept a lot.

Amsterdam is a very special place. The town itself is absolutely beautiful, with fresh air, old brownstone buildings, reflecting canals and bicycles everywhere. I was in shock just how fit, fashionable, happy and healthy everyone seemed! The tourist season is over so it was a treat to see this town in its daily residential action. The vibe is very laid back and accepting. We were walking towards the entrance of the supermarket Albert Hein one afternoon. The man in front of us stopped and another man exiting the store stopped. "You go," one says. "No, you go," the other man says. "No really, go ahead," the first one says. "Please, you sir," the other one says. Finally, I said, "Ok, I will go then!" as I brushed past them with a smile. The people are consistently courteous and positive, I couldn't believe it. It was a treat to enter any sort of retail facility and receive eye contact and smiles from the employees. Some were even humming. I was telling Andy this would be a great city to raise a child in. Ok, too far from home but I will still always believe this to be true.

You can walk all over this tidy and clean city and that is precisely what we did. Walk, walk and more walking. We went to the Van Gogh Museum, the Ann Frank House and meandered through Vondlpark. We sat in coffee shops and cafes and killed an afternoon or two playing dominoes and journaling (thanks for the colored watercolor pencils, James!). We had beautiful weather, around 55 or 60 degrees and partly sunny every day. People watching was one of my favorite activities. I stayed in awe.

Did we go to the Red Light District, you ask? Of course. We walked through and heard a live band playing on a canal bridge as we peeked inside the red shrouded windows. Some women were smiling, some on their cell phones and others starting to get busy before the curtains closed. We marveled at the peace and acceptance of it all. These women are insured and pay taxes. The society works! But wouldn't it be weird if their ex boyfriend or parents walked by? Andy wondered. Who knows? But for as accepting as the culture is, I don't necessarily think so.

There is no place like Amsterdam. We will be back, indeed.

I little memory I call, "tightie whities"

2008-10-09T03:00:00.000-07:00

It wasn't one of those moments you envision far in advance, like "Oh, I wonder what the Pyramids or the Leaning Tower will be like? I can't wait to see them!" It wasn't even close to that actually.

Just a few days ago we boarded our overnight train from Munich's Hauptbahnhof central station heading 9+ hours to Amsterdam, Netherlands. What a ride it had been so far and whoa there is so much still ahead of us. Now let's hope we can sleep in our 6-person 'cochette', bunk bed style.

Stacy and I found our 2 spots on the bottom of the 3-high bunks, opposite each other (so we could gaze into each other's eyes and stuff). We had arrived with the tiny room almost full and then our final guest walked in shortly after us, beer in hand, very happy and fun-loving - not drunk mind you. We exchanged recent stories with him and 2 younger travelers on the top bunks, about Oktoberfest and where have you been, where are you going? Mr. Final Guest was quite informative and gave us some off-the-beaten path tidbits for the Czech Republic. "Wow, that sounds interesting," I was saying as I leafed through the Lonely Planet book looking for the little town on a map. "Now how, do you ge--$%#^!" Uhhhhh...(photo link)

Uhhhhh...I thought to myself, but didn't say, 'Sir, I know we're in Germany and all, but can you take your weiner schnitzel OUT OF MY FACE!' The kind man was just very comfortable amongst us all I suppose and right there in the 24" that was the space in between Stacy and I, he stripped down to everyone's favorite butt huggers and grape smugglers, THE TIGHTIE WHITIE (his were grey I must admit). Stacy and I peeked around the package to smirk at each other and just laugh silently. Time for bed it seems? Ah, the traveler's paradise.

Hey, it was HIS room too.

Oktoberfest 2008

2008-10-07T12:44:00.000-07:00

Apparently we only needed to know 3 Bavarian words:

1. Servus!.....Hello/Goodbye!
2. Mass........The 1 litre glass mug you drink beer out of at Oktoberfest
3. Prost!.......Cheers!

Yes. We were at Oktoberfest! I mean sure, we've been to those mini-celebrations in various California towns like Old World in Huntington Beach and I have enjoyed my fair share of frosty mugs. But this was the real thing! And an authentic costume to wear from Simone is waiting for me in all it's glory. To my delight the drindl was absolutely breathtaking - a beautiful vintage piece. (photo of Stacy) I couldn't stop laughing out loud how new and exhilarating this was! This was one of those occassions where I couldn't contain my excitement. For half my life I have envisioned what this celebration must be like and now we are about to experience it.

I wasn't alone. (Photo of us) Lederhosen was everywhere I turned! Carnival music and the sweet smell of sugar-covered nuts filled the air. The day before was cold and rainy, but today the sun decided to shine brightly and warm us well - appropriately wonderful weather for the last day of Oktoberfest!

Allow me to interject and tell you briefly about Robert & Simone. When Andy and I were in Tuscany, Italy with my Dad & Judy two weeks ago we stayed at a B&B Farmhouse called Le Cetinelle in the countryside for one night. As we unloaded our bags, Robert asked us if we were Canadian because of all the patches of countries we have visited are adhered onto our bags. No, we're American but nice to meet you! We chatted for a couple of hours together after dinner, learned they were from Munich and invited us to stay with them. I envisioned this sort of instance in my many months of dreaming about this year-long trip. Meeting wonderful, warm people who paths cross with ours in some positive way. They say having goals with visualization increases the chance of achievement ten fold.

So here we are weaving our way through the crowds and stopped for a Bavarian delicious white sausage (photo). We haven't even had a beer yet! Suddenly, it was time to meet Roland, Mimi and Christian at the entrance of the Scohottemhane Spatennbrau tent. What? Not only are we at Oktoberfest with our friends but we have met a few more and we have tickets for a table at a box inside? How cool is this?!
"Servus!" Andy called out to the tent people sitting on loads of benches with a smile. There had to be a sea of over 8,000 people inside! By now, we we couldn't wait for a mass. This was definitely an experience that required a buzz. The litres of beer arrived at our lacquered wooden table and as Roland advised, this one will go down especially fast. An important rule we learned is that one absolutely cannot take a sip of this 6% beer without making eye contact with someone and announcing "PROST!" One must never drink alone at Oktoberfest! That's a lot of prost'ing. So much, in fact, that Andy shattered his glass! Photo.

Time (and liters of beer) passed quickly along with a melt-in-your-mouth rotisserie chicken quarter. By the end of the evening, we were all a bit bleary-eyed, grinning with our arms around each other's neck and singing German Oktoberfest songs. (Photo) Somehow, I could sing along by the end! There were a few Freddie Mercury songs as well, such as "We are the Champions." Freddie the flamboyant was a frequenter of Munich who enjoyed both his champagne and members of his entourage in the clubs. In any other city, playing Queen wouldn't be so fitting!

I will always remember this special night, in costume drinking Bavarian beer with our German friends in Munich 2008. MUNICH: Soft pretzels, white sausages, drizzling rain, Schloss Nymphenburg Palace, bike riding, long discussions over dinner, nights out on the town...we will be back again.

Complete Photo Album of Oktoberfest. For some odd reason, Andy's Mac won't upload photos to the body of this blog. Sad:(

A Little Camping...Where you say!?!

2008-10-03T16:55:00.001-07:00

Photo Album. Our Italian venture has crisscrossed its way from the ports of eastern Ancona through the history and artistic grandeur of central Firenze, its zigzagged up and over the majesty that is the wine country of Toscana (Tuscany) and dropped us into the Empire of Rome (albeit for a quick 22 hours!). A little respite found us amongst the awe-inspiring cliffs of the Cinque Terre before our final Italian experience, romantic Venice – Truly, the Jewel of Italy.

Half of our travels here have been spent fabulously with Kevin & Judy, meandering our way from a spectacular apartment in Floren/Users/andy/Desktop/Mini.JPGce to scenic B&Bs throughout the wine country; all the while in the little red, mirror-less jelly bean of a Daihatsu – everybody lean forward, hill coming up!! From Rome we were train bound and back to official backpacker status, just Stacy & I off to the northwestern coast and Riomaggiore, the southernmost of 5 tiny villages that make up the Cinque Terre. We enjoyed a nice room atop a hill, picnicked everyday and drank some of the best 3 Euro wine ever! Viva la France!, errr Italy!

We are now on our way to Munich for a taste of Oktoberfest and some QT with our new German pals, Robert & Simone. I have made a serious effort to avoid the cervezas and stick with the vino the last 10 days or so, giving my liver a chance to ramp-up for the serious stein gulping we’ll be doing in just a few short hours (well, maybe it’ll have to wait til tomorrow). When does this train get in?

Before we boarded this TrenItalia locomotive heading north, we spent 2 days in the postcard that is Venezia – the city of canals and NO CARS!! Romance was in the air. Gentle strolls through the cities back alleyways, sipping wine from water-side cafés, smiling at the gondolas drifting by at 80 Euros a pop and then cozying up at our luxurious camp ground to end the days. Whoa!?! Campground in Venice you ask? Indeed, the campground is the new millennium’s B&B, I’m telling you. For a small fraction of the cost of any place in Venice proper, this out-of-town Camping Alba d’Oro was perfect! I may be the cheapskate in the family, but it was the wife who found this place on-line and boy did she nail this one!

I think I may have overstated the reality, however. Despite the pleasant 70-degree days in Venice, we did not in fact camp – pitched tents, cookers, logs on the fire were not happening (my feet have been smelling though). Actually we had a Twin en suite room, which is basically a 3Mx3M room w/2 twin beds, a small wardrobe closet, heater and our own bathroom. It was like a mini motor home, just really MINI! But perfect!

The grounds of the place blew us away with a huge pool, 2 Jacuzzis, bar, restaurant, supermarket, Internet room w/ my coveted WI-FI & hundreds of accommodations! Families and young travelers alike were enjoying this place and the 20-minute shuttle bus ride that connected campers to the Venice, just across the lagoon.

The thought of coming to Venice and camping had never once crossed my mind, and once Stacy should me the web page it sounded cheap but really, what were in store for honey? I had seen a camping ground just outside of Athens that we passed in a bus just 2 weeks ago, and ewwewwe. The experience we had in Venice was utterly remarkable and fascinating. Believe it or not, the campground roll of the dice added to the creation of this lifelong memory never to be forgotten.

What a funny trip we are having!

A Cappuccino and a Hike in Cinque Terre

2008-10-01T13:36:00.000-07:00

Photo Album. All is right in the world after a cappuccino. We’re on the train headed from Bologna to Venice at the moment. Last night I couldn’t sleep for some reason, so I used the 3-hour train ride from the Cinque Terre to Bologna for some extra winks. I woke up to the sound of an African-Italian woman speaking very quickly and loudly sitting across the aisle from us. I tried to ignore it but she just kept getting louder. I realized finally in my half awake state that she was quite pissed off at her friend with her eyebrows turned in and her words getting even more heated and closer together (all in Italian of course). We decided to move. Good thing we did, as the anger mounted and she stood up and began to hit the lady she was mad at! The whole train car was staring as another Italian lady tried to calm them down. With a final roar, they split up and the mad lady stormed away to the next car. I needed a cappuccino after that. I am certainly awake now.

Yesterday it rained all day in the Cinque Terre. Luckily we took advantage of the day before and hiked from Town #1 Riamaggiore to Town #4 Vernazza. It was quite a memorable day. Allow me tell you why.

Cinque Terre is a group of five old, quaint and colorful small towns hugging the steep cliffs of the Italian Riviera. On September 29, we awoke early and headed down the 350 steps to the village of Riamaggiore. We had been staying in a double room in a hostel located on a hillside above the town and boy, was it a hike everyday! See why we brought backpacks and not roller bags, Mom? A hole in the wall shop served fresh cappuccino so we indulged with a kind exchange of “buon giorno” and a seat overlooking the water along with our new favorite breakfast: yogurt, muesli and fresh fruit. Interestingly, Italians drink and serve all coffee drinks just warm, not hot. They sure go down a lot faster this way. And the food in this region is spectacular. The Cinque Terre is known for their fresh pesto, foccachia bread and fresh anchovies, though I must admit I didn’t try the latter.

The sun was shining and the temperature in the low 70s – just perfect for a daylong hike between the towns. With our new best friend Rick Steve’s Italy 2008 book, we began on Via del l’Amore (Lover’s Lane) that meandered along the dramatic coastline. The Cinque Terre towns were quite isolated until the last century and villagers rarely married anyone outside their towns. Now that the trails are built, it changed the social dynamics between the towns and made life much more fun and interesting for courting couples. Cluttered graffiti lines the tunnels with words and drawings of love. A current craze in Italy is closing a padlock around a railing with your lover at a lovey-dovey spot. There is a cluster of padlocks on a gate at the edge of the tunnel that was entertaining to see.

Manarola (Town #2) is another tiny and picturesque town with pastel buildings stacked up on top of each other above a harbor. We went into the Sciacchetra (a local wine) Museum and a very gay Italian man who clearly had a crush on Andy greeted us. I could tell even before the man squeezed Andy’s bicep and asked, “Do you work out?” (No I am not kidding, he really said that!) We scooted along after that but I was just dying of laughter up the rest of the hill. Next, we cruised along the Manarola Vineyard walk (thanks to our buddy Rick), which followed above the edge of town up close and personal with the Sciacchetra grapes. They must have just harvested, as the vines were empty. By now we were ready to taste this vino. As you can imagine, the views were stunning.

Corniglia (Town #3) is the only town up on a hilltop not actually on the water. An old castle-turned-ristorante sits on the point and affords a commanding view of the intense blue Ligurian Sea. Eager for a taste of wine, we stopped into Enoteca Il Pirun wine bar tastefully decorated with wines in small brick alcoves, Italian reggae music blaring and a warm smile from Mario. We chatted with him and enjoyed a taste of a dry white, a rich red and the sweet yet dry Sciacchetra wine, with Mario pictured on the bottle. It was special to be drinking his particular grapes. I’m not much of a sweet wine drinker, but this wasn’t bad! Curiosity cured.

We bought our favorite picnic snacks: dry salami, pecorino Romano cheese, rustic Italian bread, tomato and fresh veggies and found a spot to relax for a couple of hours on a hilltop overlook in town. It’s amazing how much the crowds clear if you hike just a little higher. The 360-degree scenery was breathtaking of the surrounding green landscape on one side of terraced vineyards and olive groves and the other of the shoreline and infinite azure sea. It was relaxing until a cat began erratically chasing another cat that decided to leap up onto our lunch and spray the remains onto the ground. Luckily we were almost through. I walked down the hill to find a W.C. and peered into a room with a brick archway, an old wine press and oak barrels. An old man was pouring liquid into a large oak barrel that I can only assume is the Sciacchetra wine. It’s so fun to eat and drink the immediately local food & drink in Italy.

The hike from Corniglia to Vernazza (Town #4) was the most difficult yet the most rewarding. The trail hoofed us up into the hills into the olive groves and through the vineyards. From the top we could see views of all five towns, a true highlight. German hikers were the most prevalent on this trail, all outfitted with their trusty aluminum walking sticks. My knee, by the way, fared pretty well throughout all these hills and steps with my knee brace on. That was both surprising and good news for me. After this last 70 minute hike, we were pretty tired yet still climbed the hill on the opposite side of town to see a cemetery and more beautiful views. We ended up with a few snacks and a bottle of cool white wine on the breakwater rocks. We read, relaxed and enjoyed the warm sun. This is going to be the last we feel of natural warmth for a while!

Our legs thanked us when we decided to take the train back. We picked up some spaghetti Bolognese and headed back to our home (up yet another 350 steps). Along the way, we ran into Shirley & Aaron, a nice couple from Portland we met a few days prior and they invited us for a drink later that night. Why not? After dinner, we talked and laughed the night away before headed up (yet another 350 steps). It was a very memorable day.

Italy: Tuscany

2008-09-30T08:58:00.000-07:00

Photo Album. (Written September 25, 2008) The next chapter of our Italian trip was in a “little red jellybean” European Diahatsu stuffed with the four of us, our luggage and a fancy right side cosmetic mirror affixed with duct tape. Tuscany, here we come!

We meandered through the hill towns of Greve, Montelchino, Pienza, San Querico, Cordona and Chivita enjoying the unique shops, trattorias, piazzas and accommodations in each. Italy has a unique accommodation program called “agritourismo” that are basically farmhouses transformed into quaint and unique Bed & Breakfasts. The first night’s place was my favorite. Up a Tuscan hillside off a gravel road we discovered “Le Centinelle,” a 500 year old farmhouse turned B&B complete with a vineyard and olive trees. They make their own wine, olive oil and honey. After a nap, Andy and I awoke to dinner of fresh bread, cheese, meat and veggies in the quaint common area. We sampled Le Cetinelle vino rossi and olio which were both to die for! Along with burning candles in the candlelabras and Luciano Pavorotti filling our ears, it was another memorable evening with the Conlon’s.

We met a lovely couple there from Munich to boot – Robert & Simone. The conversation flowed easily from the get-go as we swapped travel stories and life philosophy sprinkled with conversational jokes and laughter. Andy and I have been planning to go to Munich for Oktoberfest and tapped them for information on the event. They were so kind to extend an invitation to us to spend a weekend with them in Munich! We absolutely can’t wait. We’ll be there October 3 – 5 or so, the last weekend of the Bavarian celebration.

Tuscany has such amazing countryside of vineyards upon rolling hills sprinkled with hill towns created centuries ago. Much of the original architecture remains amongst cathedrals, piazzas and gardens. I can see why people love to visit Italia!

Italy: Florence & Tuscany

2008-09-30T08:55:00.000-07:00

Florence Photo Album. (Written September 22, 2008) Ahh, Florence and Tuscany...I (Stacy) have dreamed about seeing these cities en Italia for half my life. A little known fact about me is that I actually have a minor in art history and this is an art historian’s paradise. We arrived at Firenze Santa Maria Nouvella train station with giant smiles on our faces. My Dad and step mom Judy warmly greeted us and walked us through town to the 2 BR apartment in the heart of the city across from the Ponte Vecchio. They are here in celebration of their 15-year wedding anniversary and we are both honored and blessed to be here with them during their special time.

Cappuccino, panini, pasta, pizza, gelato, proscuiotto, pecorino romano, wild boar salami, olio, pomodoro and vino…deliciouzo! Food and drink just doesn’t get better than this. My taste buds are on overload with every bite and sip. I must tell you about this moto bene (very good) meal we enjoyed on our 2nd night in Firenze. Dad heard about Il Latini from a friend who said it was an experience not to be missed and very important to order “la specialite de la casa” or the specialty of the house. No menus here. Our reservation was at 19:30 but we arrived at 19:15 with 50 people already mobbed together outside the entrance on this non-descript street. We could see a single group of people finishing a meal which we assumed to be the servers. Suddenly, the glass doors opened and the mob got tighter. The four of us linked arms in defense and our name was called. “Mi scusi” I called as I pushed past people. You’d think that we were waiting to see Madonna with this pushy group!

A friendly, tipsy waiter sat us down at a table for four complete with a two-litre bottle of Chianti. Ham hocks drooped down from the ceiling as a functional decoration above us. A high-energy vibe filled the room as folks were seated. It’s interesting how humans love the feeling of exclusivity in a situation like this – and I didn’t even know what I was in for! I get a kick out of human nature.

The courses began to flow. Proscuitto (the best I’ve ever had – so tender and not stringy whatsoever), spicy stuffed mini-peppers, salami slices, caprese salad, pate, bread and tomato wheat risotto. Next course – spinach and ricotta cheese ravioli and penne Bolognese. For the main course the four of us had different meats – wild rabbit, veal, prime rib and lamb – all so tender, fresh and delicious with a side of spinach and roasted potatoes. For dessert a chocolate cake, lemon cake, some sort of strudel and something else. By this time, we’d just about finished our second two-litre bottle of Chianti and none of us could recall the 4th dessert dish. And what did the waiter bring next? A glass of moscato spumante (a sparkling dessert wine) and some other wine liqueur. By now the four of us were toasted, dying laughing at just about everything and enjoying each moment with one another. It was a night to remember (or at least of what I can remember of it!).

Another highlight was listening to street musicians play in the piazza at night while we licked gelato. The acoustics amongst the old columns and statues with gentle up lighting was surreal. The Uffizi, Michelangelo, Botticelli…Firenze. It was everything I imagined and more.

In Cinque Terre, Italy

2008-09-28T06:48:00.000-07:00

Buongiourno from Cinque Terre, Italy!

I have a few blogs written on Andy's computer and ready to upload but unfortunately, USB ports on public computers do not allow outside drive connections. So...just a quick note here to let you know that we are alive and well and more stories to come soon from our time in Florence, Tuscany, Rome and Pisa. The next stop for us is Venice then up to Munich for the last weekend of Oktoberfest!

Stay tuned for new photos and stories in the next few days.

Ciao for now!

A Unique Six in Skopelos

2008-09-21T07:04:00.000-07:00

(Written September 18, 2008) Greece. This is the 4th time in 6 weeks that we have been to Athens, a rather unremarkable place. And now that we on the ferry to Ancona, Italy, I breathe a sigh of relief to move along. This ferry is like a cruise ship - a very plush and unexpected surprise!

This time in Skopelos was unique. The weather began muggy, overcast and warm. Next it was hot, sunny and dry. Summer was still here. Jeremy & Bonni rented a house with 3 levels just down the street from our tiny Skopelos House. It had a self-contained studio downstairs that they graciously allowed us to use. Though we didn’t mind sharing a small space with Andy’s parents, it was nice surprise to have privacy and our own bathroom.

The inimitable combination of the 6 of us together for 7 days was a wonderfully matchless dynamic. Originally, we planned to spend the time with Bonnie & Tom (Andy’s parents) in the Skopelos House and cross over with Bonni & Jeremy (Jeremy is Stacy’s best high school friend) for just a day or two at the end of their journey. But they ended up staying that entire time and we all got together daily, sharing a beach day at Velanio or Panormos, eating meals out at the tavernas or sharing drinks on the rooftop at dusk. We talked and laughed and connected on a myriad of levels (thanks to Tom’s questions, and for all you Drolets you know what that implies!). I felt as though everyone was so generous to us and in turn I had a constant feeling as though I wanted to give back. We would, then they would, and it became this ongoing cycle of bounty and thanks. It was a special pleasure for me to get to know Jeremy’s Bonni and look forward to many more years of close friendship with the two of them as husband and wife.

One day, Andy built a deck on the roof using a chainsaw, plywood, sandpaper, palates, a hammer and nails. It was pretty sweet until Father Greece discovered it and threatened us to remove it. It is on his roof after all. We’ll see what happens there.

By the time we left it was cool, windy and rainy. It seemed fall had arrived. Jer, Bonni, Andy and I took the 7:15am Flying Cat in terribly windy weather north up to Volos to catch a bus back down to Athens. People were getting sick all around us and it felt like the boat was going to flip. I had visions of the Stand By Me scene approaching with Lard Ass and the blueberry pie puke-capade. Thankfully I had Dramamine and all four of us made it without joining in the festivites.

So now we’re en route to Florence, Italy to meet up with my Dad & Judy for five days during their 15-year wedding anniversary. Italy has been at the top of my list for years! I am looking forward to the culinary, wine and Renaissance indulgences, indeed.

3 Weddings & a Hangover

2008-09-14T02:55:00.000-07:00

27 days later & I feel exhausted.

I would first like to congratulate 6 of our favorite people in this beautiful world:

To Jeremy & Bonni, Scott & Melissa, Carl & Megan, may the knots you have recently tied be eternal and wonderfully fulfilling. To our lifelong family members, Jeremy, Scott & Megan, cheers to you! We could not be more excited about your newfound happiness. To our newest kin, we can selfishly say that we are excited to have you in OUR lives and look forward to celebrating life with you and yours’ for a long time coming. You are all such remarkable and beautiful people that we care for, admire and think of often.

OK, enough of the sentimental. The days between August 13 & September 9 were like a weekend bender that wouldn’t stop. {sigh} If there was such thing as a month-long party, we just now cleaned off the hand stamp that got us in to the thing! Our itinerary was well known months ago, even before we departed in February we had return flights booked for this monumental reunion marathon. It served Stacy & I as a marker to look forward to as we traversed the rivers & waterfalls of New Zealand, the rice paddies of Vietnam and the sands of the Sahara. We knew our on-the-move lifestyle would not be going anywhere, even though we were in fact ‘going home’.

Dad & Sonja grabbed us at LAX with welcoming smiles and hugs! We were home!! We returned to the US of A, and would laugh and look at one another with a smirk when someone would ask us, “So, where are you staying while you’re back?” “Uhhh…see that silver truck over there with the shell? That’s where.” It was a 4 week road trip not for the feint hearted, but with Emma dog by our side we were living it up and speeding full speed ahead.

First, a monumental Bachelor/Bachelorette weekend plopped us right back into our old reality with so many of the friends we had yearned to reconnect with for 6 months. It was truly a case of men vs women. Scottie’s boys went to the mountains of Bishop, CA for a rustic male bonding getaway and Melissa’s ladies partied their arses off in the new Vegas, Palm Springs! I’ve seen the photos and YES, there was a slightly different dynamic, but NO they did not have more fun than us. BBQs vs Pizza Deliveries? Horseshoes vs Disco Dancing? Rushing Rivers vs Bulging Plastic Penis Straws? C’mon. I didn’t realize how much I’d missed those darn Miller Lites!

Stacy & I reunited for a drive North through SF (Hi & goodbye to Momma C., Shawn-O, Jamers, Leslie & Pilger!) then to southern Oregon where we found out that the California drought had certainly spread across state lines. Too bad. It was beautiful however and Jer & Bonni’s property (doubling as wedding site) was awe-inspiring. Natural beauty engulfed us in the countryside just south of Grant’s Pass. We met so many great people and Stacy was reunited with friends from the 90s. Oh, and the wedding? It was the perfect setting for 2 great people. It felt a lot like the site of our wedding and brought back lots of goose bumps.

3 days in Ruch, OR and we were back in the truck with Emma looking at us like, Where is my home anyways? Redwoods, Radiohead (for Stacy anyways!) and rural scenic routes got us to San Luis Obispo, where Emma and I played with Coop and Abby (Abdominals) for a few days before Wedding #2. Scott & Melissa’s spot at the Cliffs of Pismo was breathtaking. The fog cleared and left us groomsmen (Stew, Mikey & I) with sunny ocean views and diving pelicans all around. The dance party was definitely alcohol-enhanced (for me at least) and it was as if my new Thursday, Friday, Saturday routine was in full swing. I’m getting the hang of this wedding thing!

With hangover slightly subdued by a bagel sammich, Stace and Emma joined me in saying our goodbyes to Cooper David and Sara. Congratulations to the Apobeks!! Our drive took us south to east county San Diego and to the Drolets!! Can it be that we have partied for 2 weeks so far and barely seen a single Drolet (Hi Mom!)? What do we have in store for us! Hope Stacy can re-fuel on the 5 freeway! Dad & Sonja’s lunch in Pasadena helped a lot and we got to see Stephanie Marie too! To be honest, our stress was catching up to us a bit and Emma was the lucky one who got to watch the wife and I work through some stuff. We got to Jeff & Caitlin’s baby shower (Yes, Jeffrey Patrick is having a baby boy!!) before dark and somehow our energy was able to peak for just long enough to make the rounds with everyone at Aunt Nancy & Uncle Tim’s and watch El Jefe open like 100 gifts for Mr. Zachary!

We spent some time with Kevin & Judy poolside in San Marcos and Judy hemmed my wedding pants. What a lifesaver! A trip to the tailor at this point would have been “Ugg!” Another bachelor party, this time for Carlito, found us paying to BBQ our own steaks in the Gaslamp and mouthing the words to Lemmie’s Motorhead lyrics at the House of Blues. That dude is amazing! Lots of family bonding this week was really great. I do realize however, that my ability to cope with the go go go nature of these gatherings has diminished. Phew, I really do need a some silence one of these days!

Carl & Megan’s wedding was a Friday wedding and came on a beautiful and equally hot weekend on Coronado Island. It too was a picureqsue location and my forehead burn told the whole story! I got to spend some really good QT with Jeffrey among others. Uncles Frank and Kevin were good times too! Stacy, Jeff & I had one wacky interlude with a SheMan tranny looking to make a phone call, uhhh, sure. Megan looked amazing and Carl is one handsome sonofabiatch! Dinner turned into dancing and drunkenness for the group. The wedding technically ended at 11:30pm, but the after parties could not be contained. Not even by Coronado’s PD! At one point I looked around as about 40 of us stood in the back parking lot of the hotel and thought, damn, this is some tailgate party! And its 2am!

Saturday was a much-needed ‘down’ day and no, Mom & Aunt Nancy, we would not be able to make it to the El Cajon Pool Party this day. Sorry. Instead we rested for a split second before driving up to meet our new pals from Vietnam (actually from Cali) Louise & Walid, in San Clemente. Even though there were no jackets to be fitted for and no dates for ping pong (SE Asia references), we picked up right where we had left off.

The last order of business for me, besides packing and getting back to vacation, from our vacation…from our vacation, was to enjoy the Chargers home opener with the homies. An early tailgate party followed a long night a JD’s prior. The Chargers looked flat and then got the rug pulled out from under them with 2 seconds left! Damn! My Fantasy Squad similarly got burned when my Tom Brady went down for the season in the first quarter of his game. Aghhhhhh!

I said goodbye to the guys and found Stacy busting her butt in Encinitas to get us ready to depart again. She had gone shopping, organized our goods and most importantly for my well being, she was taking some of her OWN time to recover. 7 months ago we had spent weeks slowly prepping our packs. This departure did not allow for such planning so one Monday spent throwing things together for the remains of summer and the ensuing autumn found us checking mighty heavy bags to Athens. Mom & Pop were going with us to Skopelos this time which was great news. And it wasn’t too bad to be going BACK to Greece after all! We did have to leave Emma one more time, this time with a new experimental human food diet. Coop, I hope all goes well. And thank you so much! Dad & Sonja too!

Now we are back on the road with only us and our minimal gear. A few notes on our calendar for the near future but otherwise our itineraries are clear. Ah, off to Europe. I haven’t even had any time to think about it yet!!

On the Road Again...to Skopelos, Greece

2008-09-14T02:52:00.000-07:00

(Written September 10, 2008) I am tired of listening to people talk. For the first time in weeks, I am sitting alone in a beautiful hotel room with nothing but the quiet hum of Andy’s Apple computer and the gentle tapping of the Mac keys. I am a Windows Girl at heart, but there is something much calmer about the sound of punching Mac keys. For 3 ½ weeks straight, we have done nothing but socialize with loved ones. While I immensely enjoyed the heart-warming interactions, I am burnt out with being “on” all the time. It’s interesting how I can feel the strong dichotomy of an immense love and joy with connecting with friends and family after six months of void, yet completely pooped out with the notion of talking to anyone. Ahh quietude. I can feel my fuel tank being filled by the minute.

We made it back to Athens, Greece after almost 24 hours of travel. I surprised myself with the amount of patience I felt during this time. In the past, I would sigh as I looked at my watch, sizing up just how much time was spent or wasted in the wrong line for instance. Now, while it certainly isn’t the most exciting time, I accept the situation for what it is and realize that whether I stand in line for 5 or 50 minutes, it is what it is. It’s nice to not feel worried about the things I cannot control. Instead, I take the time to enjoy the present moment because that’s all we ever have. I take deep breaths, make eye contact and smile at other people. It’s amazing how this mental space can bring such peace and clarity within. And things tend to work out pretty smoothly.

The metro finally dumped us at our station and we climbed up into the hot evening Athens sun. I surprised myself again how calm I felt with not knowing where we were. There was a time that my heart would flutter with nervousness upon entering a new town, disoriented and confused with signs in a different language, new noises and smells. Though each time, we patiently studied a map, found the nearest street corner, pulled out our trusty compass and found our way. Sometimes it would take longer than others, but dozens of times we would reach our desired destination without fail. So now I rest with a feeling of comfort with my home on my back that we will make it. We always do.

I am looking forward to another relaxing time in Skopelos, this time with Andy’s Mom and stepdad. Our friends Jeremy & Bonni (Wedding #1 for us in Oregon) are also honeymooning there at the same time! Good thing I have this peace and quiet now because socializing with loved ones is again right around the corner. And now I am looking forward to it.

California, USA: Clean, Convenient & Hospitable

2008-08-25T18:25:00.000-07:00

What a whirlwind! We've been back in the States for just 2 weeks for 3 weddings and holy cow our heads are spinning. Los Angeles, Pasadena, Orange County, San Francisco, Los Gatos, Southern Oregon, down the coast back to SF then to San Diego for a Radiohead Concert and now up in San Luis Obispo for Wedding #2. I am a tourist in my home state and it's been rather enjoyable (and tiring!). I feel as though I am seeing my home country through new eyes. Maybe I am.

I have come to appreciate America in a way I never saw or felt before. First of all, we live in such a pristinely CLEAN place. Look around you. What do you notice? Manicured lawns, nicely paved streets and sidewalks, pretty gardens and absolutely zero trash strewn about. Spotless retail stores with nicely stacked merchandise free of dust and grime. Clean restrooms, cars and people. No stink as you walk down the street. No, this isn't what I am used to but damn do I appreciate cleanliness.

And the convenience! You can get absolutely anything you want at any time. Do you realize just how fortunate we really are? You want red licorice at 3:30am? Sure. How about watching Star Wars right now? You can get it. What about that double nonfat soy vanilla latte, hold the vanilla and make it with Splenda not sugar? You got it with a giant smile. The list goes on and on. I completely took for granted how much and what you can get anywhere, anytime. Credit card is universally accepted, even for a $1.25 newspaper. (This is NOT the case in many countries! Not even accepted at a market or restaurant in many cases.) And you wonder why credit card debt in our country is a ubiquitous problem. America is frighteningly convenient. But that's another story.

The hospitality took me by surprise. I used to work in the hospitality industry and I was still floored just how friendly and thoughtful everyday interactions are here. I mean sure, you get the occasional person in a bad mood but overall, customer service is king. One of the first stores I went into after returning home asked me on the credit card swipe screen "How was your experience with your checker today?" and before I could sign my name, it required me to answer. Whoa! I am used to a giant sigh from a clerk or server and a look like I am bothering them by being in their shop or cafe. I should say it wasn't this way everywhere all the time in other countries, but the norm is to be unhelpful and unappreciative to the customer whereas here it is revered to be helpful and pleasant. Americans have come to expect it.

There is no question that I now see and appreciate America in a new light. But I also appreciate Southeast Asia, Australia, New Zealand and Indonesia for what they are and what I have learned while visiting (see blog entries 1 - 70! :) It makes me appreciate home. But I am just as thrilled to leave again on September 9 for Europe in the fall: Greece, Italy, France, Holland...

Grecian Paradise: Skopelos

2008-08-25T17:47:00.000-07:00

Photo Album. After a short day in Athens, we took a ferry to the idyllic Greek island of Skopelos. What’s more public transport in our lives? It was strange to be back in Western culture. You mean we actually have a plush seat? And the toilets are clean? I don’t have to squat? There’s A/C? Wow! I suppose we did pay for it after all, but quite a bit different than the Indonesian $4 ferry from Bali to the island of Lombok.

Brilliant turquoise waters greeted us as we

approached Skopelos. Terraced white buildings draped over the mountainside cove, woven together between cobblestone streets like a labyrinth. The sun was pounding down on our shoulders in 90+ degree heat but felt amazingly refreshing due to its arid nature. It had been humid in our world for 3 months straight so it was quite nice to not feel like I could cut through the air with a knife and drink gallons of water daily to stay hydrated.

As soon as we departed the ferry with our turtle shells on our backs, we prepared for the journey to The Skopelos House. Bonnie and Tom (Andy’s parents) put together colored photos for directions to this 400-year-old abode since there are no street signs or clear dir

ections used in writing. We passed the bakery, turned right at the white wall with the wrought iron gate, up a hill with a Lucky Strike sign, pass the mural at the hairdressers and turn left on the 20^th step. We made it! We entered with a skeleton key and plopped our bags down with a sigh of relief. After 7 years of hearing about this paradisical Grecian sanctuary, Andy and I are finally here.

Skopelos is a very unique island in the Sporades. It’s mountainous and covered in a blanket of dark green pine trees. I have visited the Cyclades Islands in the south (Santorini a

nd Mykonos) which are both pretty barren and desert-like so this was a foresty treat. We spent 12 luxurious and much-needed days here (7/31 - 8/12). After two months of rice and fish in Asia, we gorged ourselves with delicious feta cheese, fresh baked bread, vine-ripened tomatoes, olive oil, balsamic vinegar, and peaches that knocked our socks off - my mouth is watering just think

ing about them. They are the perfect combination of sweet but slightly tart, deliciously juicy (but not enough to drip down your chin) and crisp with zero strings that get stuck in teeth.

We read books on the beaches just about every day and delved into our packed lunch and cold beverages in the cooler. Each beach was pretty packed with Europeans on summer holiday (especially this year since Mamma Mia was recently filmed on Skopelos). We found refuge on Valario Beach which was a bit of a hike, but well worth the trip since it was beautiful scenery and secluded. A swim and a snorkel here, a snooze there...ahhh. Our fuel tanks were being filled up by the minute.

Squares? Trapazoids? No...PYRAMIDS!!

2008-08-03T10:35:00.000-07:00

Yes, THOSE Pyramids!

The last of the Ancient 7 Wonders of the World...and we lucked into seeing them!! Well, we had angled for the opportunity since we booked our Bangkok to Cairo to Athens flights way back in Bali in May. But we didn't know if a pop over would be feasible during our 5.5 hr layover - and despite my assurances from Air Egypt call center ladies, we were still skeptical upon touching down in Africa.

The first airport guy we spotted, Ahmed received a barrage of inquiries from us and blew us away with his interest in assisting us and his patience. It seemed like it was gonna happen (pee pee dance, pee pee dance!!!) and after we purchased 2 quick Egypt VISAs, we were ushered through immigration and out to the taxi lot. How easy was that?

Ahmed kept reassuring us, "No problem, no problem" as he began negotiating with a large taxi man in Arabic. We waited in anticipation; what was the magic $ # going to be for this trip? We had learned through our research that the Great Pyramids of Giza are only 40 km from the airport, on the other side of Cairo, so hopefully we wouldn't get too jacked on the deal. Bottom line, $100 US, or 530 Egyptian Pounds. We hopped in and kept pinching each other, well, not pinching cuz Stace doesn't like me to poke at her, but you know what I mean - I was GEEKED UP!!! I had been thinking of this possibility for a month and now we were crossing a river...the NILE!?! We stopped for some pics...of the NILE River! Is this really happening? The world trip has been so great, but this is like the EXCLAMATION POINT!

Mohammed, our animated taxi man was spewing out facts about his beloved city. 22 million cars in Cairo, cemetaries for the rich, cemetaries for the poor, mosques with forever-climbing steeples and finally as we watched his eyes in the rear view mirror, he glanced to his right. There were the Pyramids, right there in the distance. Through the thick haze that covered the entire city, we caught our first glimpse of the magical stone creations from eons ago. Big smiles of anticipation stuck to our faces as we slowly meandered through the growing traffic near the Pyramids. Unfortunately for us, the actual park for hte Pyramids didn't open until 9am. But no bother, as long as we could SEE them that would be fine by us. We were asked if we wanted to examine them by foot or on horses. Hmmm, hadn't thought about that one. Our first inclination was to decline the 4-legged opportunity, we are backpackers afterall and money doesn't grow on trees. And for some reason, I felt that a horse ride would cost some dinero.

We were working our way into a small village-like setting and once we parked were met by a horse handler, Omar. With very little full court press, we gave in and warily saddled up onto Liza and Flower. Omar led us on his white stallion through the small streets, past Range Rovers, Mercedes Benz', galloping horses and dozens of camels. A camel ride would have been cool - but count our blessings, no regrets! After traveling in a direction AWAY from the Pyramids, we eventually found our way onto the sand of the Sahara desert. I felt like friggin' Indiana Jones! Stacy often found herself leading our charge through the crowds, however, as Omar was rapping with me about how he likes Americans very much, but how Egyptians in general do not. "Uhhh, honey, we are Australian" I mouthed to her from behind.

More and more summer vacationers - lots of Saudis we were told, here spending money and partying, stormed past whipping their horses, hooting and hollering. Lots had aerosal cans of foam that they were spraying on people. Omar was very protective and snuffed out every potential foaming with some negotiation of his own. As we climbed the dunes, off to the right were the 3 largest Pyramids - live and in person!! We took photos and just marveled at our circumstances. We made it and its only 7:45 in the morning!! The furthest to the right is the largest, the middle was 2nd and the one on the left the smallest of these 3. The surreal nature of this experience had me around the neck - incredible.

With a plane to catch and lots of traffic to battle, we asked Omar to take us back. We were on the Sahara dunes for maybe 30 minutes but it was so worth the trip! Omar told us of a place we could get a look of the Sphinx and then also we how the historical papyrus paper is made. The traffic on the tiny streets was now crazy - at times a little scary actually. More Mercedes, more partiers, a few more camels, guys selling snakes...uh, can we just get going? Omar insisted we stop at a member of his family's apartment complex and climbed the zigzagging stairwell to the roof. Sure enough, he was true his word and we felt so close now to the mesmorizing creations. The Sphinx is a lot smaller than you'd think, or maybe up against the background of the Great Pyramids it's just dwarfed? We could now see the othe 6 smaller Pyramids as well (9 total) and lots of ongoing excavation activity. The wife and I just peered out, again trying to burn the image into our heads forever.

At the street level again, Omar showed us into the Horus Papyrus Museum, where we were to see a demonstration of how the peper was prepared. What it actually was was an art gallery, with lots of beautiful Egyptian art on the paper, all with prices attached. Ahhhh, now it made sense. Tours always take you through the gift shops at the end right? We were met my a tall fellow in white who was very formal and anxious to see us. I had an 8:30 am beer and he quickly, like the blink of an eye, showed us the paper process. We were then thrust into decision mode - what art were we going to buy? At first we were taken aback, but then the thought of taking home a beautiful souvenir from Giza hit us and sounded nice. He had his thoughts of course, of which one(s) we should purchase but we don't need a wall MURAL, man. We are white, yes, but we are not made of money. Please let us buy a small one, please. It took some serious eye to eye to get him to comprehend, but after all was said and done, we walked out happy with a larger than expected piece about the love of King Tut and his bride. The kind man even wrote our names in heirogyphics on the papyrus paper!!

A sense of relief overwhelmed us once we were safely back in Mohammed's taxi and driving to the airport. We were alittle behind schudule but all was fine. We made it! It happened! For pulling a Pyramid visit out of our butts, our layover trip to Giza truly could not have gone any smoother or more Egypt than that! Our exhileration had calmed some only to be mortified by the intense smog that blanketed Cairo. It was disgusting! The town is perhaps the center of life, who knows, but it is very dirty, chaotic and generally unappealing. A 5 hour visit was perfect!

We made the plane and couldn't wipe the grins from our faces, the Pyramids!!! I really hadn't felt this type of exhilaration at any time during our magical 6 months. It just goes to show what can happen if you just let it.

The Dichotomy of Cambodia, Part II: Stealing Our Hearts

2008-07-29T03:29:00.000-07:00

Cambodia stole our hearts in two words: Angkor Wat. Wow! This temple is breathtaking. We awoke at 4:40am to visit this masterpiece built 1,000 years ago at sunrise (Photo Album).

We begged Yan, our trusty tuk tuk driver, to stop for coffee but he replied, "No time! After you see temple coffee ok!" The Japanese have invested quite a bit in Cambodian tourist attractions so we paid an astonishing $20 US for a day's pass to see the temples in the area. Crowds filed towards the entrance to enjoy the splendid view of the sun rising over Angkor Wat, the largest religious monument in the world. Andy and I cruised around to the west side away from the crowds and found a spot within the temple walls to ourselves. The day was quickly heating up. We giggled as we watched 11 monkeys rumble and tumble along the top of the wall, playing with one another in the early morning light. This place is massive!! The moat that surrounds the temple is so large it looks like a lake from the ground view. Check out the link above if you are interested in more of the history of this spectacular place.

After an hour or two of oohs and ahhs, we indulged in iced coffees and pancakes. For you coffee drinkers, the way they drink coffee in Laos, Cambodia and Vietnam is unique: instead of adding milk or sugar, they add sweetened condensed milk (yes, like the Carnation brand in the States) to very strong brew made with grounds so fine they simply settle on the bottom of the cup or glass. At first, the coffee was waaaay too sweet for us as we prefer our coffee simply with milk or cream but we got used to it and grew to love it! They don't understand "no sugar" here. But I digress.

Next, we headed north in the dense Cambodian jungle to Angkor Thom and the temple of Bayon with its 216 gargantuan faces of Avalokiteshara, the Buddha of Compassion, staring back at us. But Ta Prohm was my favorite (pictured right) with tentacle-like roots that strangle the temple walls. It's a poetic cycle: humans conquering nature to create, then nature once again conquering humans to destroy.

Very pushy children and beggars constantly approached us to buy bracelets or t-shirts or simply give them money. They grabbed onto or shirt sleeves and all but got in the tuk tuk with Yan and us as we politely said "no" and drove away. Again, the dicotomy of Cambodia unmasks itself between the rich splendor and glory of Cambodia's past and the current state of the needy. But this is how they live. It's the only way they know.

Musicans occassionally play on the temple grounds adding an extra aural experience in addition to the crickets and birds. By now, even before noon we were dripping with sweat that is quintessential to the SE Asian experience in the hot & muggy weather. By noon, we were templed out! Lunch and a nap were calling our names.

The town of Siam Reap is quite charming with its French colonial and Chinese style architecture. Restaurants and bars line the Old Market in the French Quarter. Haven't heard of it? You will. I have a feeling this place is going to blow up as a major tourist attraction in the coming years.

The cab ride from Siem Reap to the Thailand border was an experience I'll never forget. We decided against taking a 6 hour bus ride and instead chose the 3 hour cab option. The 200 km of road between is unpaved and in mid construction and has been for about 20 years. There is a rumor that a certain airline has been paying off a certain government body to not seal the road so travelers such as Andy and I are forced into uncomfort instead of taking the very expensive flight. Anyway, we get going in the cab and our driver has one hand on the steering wheel and the other blaring the horn or his cell phone. Cars, bikes and motorbikes are coming at us from every which way as our driver has lead in his foot, sharply navigating between oncoming and passing traffic. Meanwhile, the road is bumpy and dusty as hell as Andy and I grab on to our "oh shit handles" with white knuckles. Suprisingly, we have seatbelts. Unsuprisingly, there is nothing to latch them into. So with the trusty carabiner we link our male belt pieces together with a hope and a prayer. What I will never understand is this: we honk and blare and pass others at lightning speed, then the driver slowly pulls over to jump out and take a whizz, yes right on the side of the dirt road with a lit cigarette in his other hand.

Finally, we make it to the border and a very friendly gentleman greets us and offers us a nice minibus option to Bangkok from the border for just $9 per person. After getting our departure and arrival stamps, we "wait just 15 minutes while the bus gets an oil change." Fine, so we wait. 45 minutes later a bus finally shows and what do you know, another 2 people happen to show up for a ride to Bangkok as well. Oil change my arse. It's raining hard now. So we load into the minibus that holds 12 people but wait, there are 14 of us! No problem, Andy and Stace will sit in the back of the minibus with an extra double carseat from another van just plopped down on the floor in back. A hope and a prayer yet again...

This pretty much sums up my individual experiences in Asia. Leading up to the event, I am nervous about the unknown. At the beginning of it, I am scared sh*tless. But by the second hour, relaxation and surrender sets in. Conquering fears = Asia!

How am I driving? Call 800-DONT ASK!

2008-07-26T20:18:00.000-07:00

First of all, I would like to thank the Toyota manufacturers of the world for installing those wonderfully underappreciated "Oh Shit" handles in their vehicles. You know, those little handles located just above the car doors that we often use for hanging our Sunday best on? And to those cars without them I chose not to acknowledge your oversight.

We have just concluded our 2 month visit to Asia and what a 61 days it was. So many adventures that pulled at our patience, tested our strength as a couple, yet somehow are the cause of the smile wrinkles on our cheeks. So many "oohs" & "ahhhs" that we have reported about so many times before. I'm sure we will remember tid bits of our visit to the Marble Mountains of Danang or the 3-day jungle trek in Thailand or even the miraculous Angkor Wat Temple in Cambodia. No doubt all memorable adventures. But no matter how mushy our brains become over the years, I doubt we will ever forget the terror that accompanied a Sunday drive in Asia.

In the United States, we have so many road rules to abide by. Stay in your lane, use your blinkers, do not cross a double yellow, pass on the left, RED means stop, GREEN means go and for heaven's sake, don't honk your horn at me or you may get the bird flying your way JERK! In Asia, the formula is to throw all of this out the window, close your eyes and accelerate! Whether driving a motorbike or as a passenger in any number of vehicles, the stress level on the roads was matched by nothing else we encountered - well, maybe bungy jumping.

Take these examples for instance:

*Buses - We often took buses from place to place. A cheap option and sometimes an overnight ride which accounted for our accomodation as well. I laugh at the name, "Sleeper Bus", because unless assisted by pharmaceudicals, sleep would be the last thing you would be doing. The drivers are eratic, simply trying to get from here to there as fast as they can, with all disregard for their passengers well being. I often sat up and laughed, "Stop swerving and honking at 70 km/hr! Its a Sleeper Bus dammit! I'm trying to S-L-E-E-P."

*Taxis - There were not many of these for us but one ride stands out. From Siem Reap, Cambodia to the eastern border of Thailand, we decided to go taxi instead of old bus (we were on our way to Bangkok). We had heard the road was crap and the bus ride was twice as long as a speedy taxi. Buses seemed to always have sketchy Air Con as well and Asia is not place to be caught without A/C. One ongoing problem: No seatbelts...ever. Often we had one side of the nylon belt but rarely both connections. On this particular adventure, after ducking and dodging people and motorbikes, charging down sudden detours and honking at EVERYTHING, our rising heart rates helped up with our ingenousness and creativitiy. We hooked our belts together with our trusty carabeaner. If we crashed now, at least we would be slammed together instead of flying through the windshield.

The honking is a phenomenon. The inventor of the car horn would be proud because nary a second passes without blasting it. Honk, Honk, hooonnnnkkkk! Its funny because as I mentioned, in the US its not accepted without a sense of disdain, but in Asia its more of a notification. As I'm flying up behind you I want to just let you know I'm coming. Motorbike, you better move to the side. Its understood as a form of road communication. The horn is critical to keeping the traffic flowing. Lanes are non-existent as any vehicle at any time may hog the entire road, swerve to left or slow down. There is no sense of pattern, just keep going, avoid the brakes until the last moment and hold on!!

In Asia, there are countdown clocks that tell you how much longer a light is Red or Green. Its actually a brilliant invention and yellow lights were non-existent. Unfortunately, what it does is cause hte throngs of motorbikes huddled at an intersection to not so slowly creap out...3...in the intersection...2...accelerating...1, already halfway!!

Despite the calouses on my hands because of the gripping of the Oh Shit handles, I must give credit where credit is due. We were often picked up early and delivered to our desired destination before expected. Punctuality at all costs!

I wonder when we return home, how many 'birds' fly my way as I try to communicate in my new road language. And why shouldn't I creap into the intersection while its still red? hmmm? I've got places to be.

The Dichotomy of Cambodia, Part I: Shattering our Souls

2008-07-26T12:29:00.000-07:00

(Photo Album) Four days in the magical country of Cambodia both stole our hearts and shattered our souls. We crossed over the border from Vietnam in yet another bumpy bus to the capital city of Phnom Penh. The good, the bad and the ugly is the easiest way to describe the history of this tormented country, as evidenced in our hellish descent into Tuol Sleng.

In 1975, Pol Pot, the leader of the Khmer Rouge regime, turned this ordinary high school into Security Prison 21 (S-21), the largest center of detention and torture in the country. As Andy and I walked along the corridors, I couldn't help but imagine the scores of innocent men, women and children who were brutally tortured, raped and killed on these grounds. The checked floors and cream walls are awash with stains that I forced my mind to not visualize. Tears finally overflowed when I saw the thousands of black and white mugshots of the prisoners housed in cases with the reflection of the prison bars illuminated upon the glass. I wondered: if energy cannot be created or destroyed, does the energy from the thousands of prisoners remain within its walls today? Is that what I am feeling right now? It's a spooky thought to consider.

Next, our driver took us to the Killing Fields just outside Phnom Penh. Those who were not killed by torture at S-21 were later brutally executed at the Killing Fields of Choeung Ek by the devastating Khmer Rouge regime soldiers. As you might imagine it was an eerie experience for the two of us. This day was not for the weak hearted. Rising above the 120+ mass graves, we stood in front of a large stupa which serves as a memorial. Andy and I gaped at the 900 human skulls and clothes from the deceased which are housed inside. Meanwhile, I could hear joyful laughter from children at a nearby school. This is the conundrum of Cambodia. I wondered: are the children aware of these nearby atrocities? What demons must they face?

I instantly felt a warm compassion to the Cambodian people having had these experiences. I bought a krama and wore it every day thereafter in Cambodia. It's a checked scarf that many locals wear and is perfect for sun protection, dust protection, as a towel, as a bandage...anything. A sigh of relief washed over us as we drove away. This brutality could happen to any one of us.

It is no wonder the current government is corrupt. The Lonely Planet describes it aptly:

Democracy has been supplanted by kleptocracy, governance by theft and millions of dollars have been siphoned away in recent years...evictions and land grabs continue apace, with the rich getting richer and the poor getting screwed. Several communities have been kicked out of Phnom Penh and dumped unceremoniously in arid (or flooded) fields miles away from the city. Refugees within their own country, their fate remains uncertain...But despite this depressing diagnosis, life is improving for many Cambodians. The economy is booming thanks to tourism and investors. However, the progress is often despite the government and not because of it.

Coincedentally, the election is today. We'll see what happens.

We spent the rest of the evening exploring the city. It began to rain so we found shelter at the Lazy Gecko Cafe which happened to support a local orphanage. We discovered we could watch a movie of our choice in their movie room. And what do we pick out of 400 movies when all we've seen is crappy B movies on HBO on rare occasion? Yup, the Killing Fields. Somehow it wasn't overkill but rather therapeutic, bringing the day full circle.

The Incredible Mr Bein

2008-07-25T04:11:00.000-07:00

Photo Album. Recently, the wife & I took an impromptu trip to visit the Cu Chi tunnels, some 70 km northwest of Saigon (HCM City) and the experience will be one never to be forgotten. If not for the somber history that is associated with the Viet Congs underground maze of tunnels, its for the indelible memory our guide and War veteran Mr. Bein made on us.

We arrived in Saigon on one of a hundred overnight buses that hog the north south roads in Vietnam. We arrived at our customer service-heavy Madame Cuc's Hotel #127 around 6:15am and on a whim, thought to ask about these tunnels shortly thereafter. We had about 30 hours in this historical town and were ready to MAXIMIZE!! Luckily 2 seats were available and we rushed onto the 8am tour bus. Immediately, the man in the red San Francisco Police Dept hat had our attention, albeit because I was asking him so many questions about logistics (leave it to Andy) and he got a bit huffy.

This man was a wealth of information about Vietnam and the 2 Vietnam Wars of the 50s, 60s & 70s (yes, there was one with the French before the American War). He was an officer for the Southern Vietnamese (our allies!) during the war we know as the Vietnam war and actually was living in the US before returning home to fight. He was stationed not far from the Cu Chi Tunnels, at a US navy base on the river. He was a tiny passionate individual who somehow can cope with revisiting the madness of his war every day. He told us how the VC (VietCong) began digging tunnels in the 50s during the War with the French (the first Vietnam War) and continued as the American War heated up. The crazy thing is that the US & allies built their large Army base protecting Saigon, right on TOP of a section of their tunnels!? Didn't we have ANY intel? The tunnels ended up zigzagging around the region for 250+ km! They were made on 3 different levels, 3M, 6M & 9M underground & were ingeniously constructed to thwart any American or S. Vietnamese efforts to drown them out, send in troops or dogs and also enabled the sneaky VC to recede to lower levels when bombs or grenades were engaged. At most the underground crevices were 1.3M tall and 0.8M wide and often they shrunk down considerably more. The VC built air holes for breathing, trap doors to combat intruders and water and they lived underground during the day only to come up in the evening to hammer the base and its surrounding villages secretively at night. A large part of the VC's rations & ammunition were stolen from the base in the odd hours and it took years & hundreds of deaths before the allies realized what lied below them.

We were taken to the jungle and shown a number of humbling and melancholy episodes. From a Pro-North video berating the Evil Americans, to examples of torturous booby traps & hidden sniper holes the visit was a little scary. As the 2 hour walk continued Stacy & I became more and more introspective about the entire conflict & quiet. We were absorbing the stories more than clamoring up on bombed out US tanks taking photos. It was a hard place to swallow indeed. Mr. Bein had told the group we would be allowed to shoot real guns from the war towards the end of the tour and while at one time we had felt intrigued, by the time we shakily approached the gun range with rounds POPPING and BLASTING every few seconds, we were quite anti and content to walk away. Well actually Stacy needed to and I followed after trying to understand why. What Andy needs to understand is to just let the wife do what feels best for her and not to wonder why. (I'm working on it!).

We we finally led to the famous tunnel that we, as a group would be able to traverse. It ran for 100M and would be led by an experienced man in green fatigues. It was dark and started out roomier than maybe I thought. I bumped into the girl in front of me twice because I never saw her. Stacy followed behind as the tunnel wound around, never in a straight line (a design strategy to make it hard for intruders to see at a distance) and got smaller and smaller. It was claustrophobic and a bit nerve racking as others would call out to slow down or "where are you?". Every 30M above ground (more like 80M down below), the tunnel had a staircase to the surface. Stacy decided as did a number of others to eject. I continued on and dropped down a few meters before I scratched my left shoulder on the ceiling. The crawl space became extremely tight for me and after considering the possibilities turned back. Lucky for me no one behind Stacy had overtaken her and pushed forward. I was able to return to the stairwell and escape the confines of the earth. It was incredibly hot and sweaty down there, never mind the tightness of it. About 1/3 of the group made it all the way to the 4th stairway and I had to clap for them as that was no easy task.

We listened to Mr. Bein and his stories about other tours and jokes about evil rulers hiding down there on his past visits. I feel we received the most inspired and educational briefing we could have possibly received about the region and the War. All because Mr. Bein could put himself through it day after day. I'm sure it is somehow medicinal for him to talk about it and explain his feelings and the truths of his experience.But I saw him get choked up a number of times. I really can't imagine.

To the Incredible Mr. Bein, Thank you.

Saigon, Vietnam

2008-07-21T08:57:00.000-07:00

Two of the last three nights have been spent on an overnight bus ride from Hoi An to Nha Trang to scuba dive, then last night from Nha Trang to Saigon. Headphones, an eye mask and blanket are a necessity unless you want to listen to unbelievably loud Vietnamese Idol on TV with the overhead lights on covered in a who-knows-how-many-times previously used blanket. We arrived at 5:30am this morning and it's now at 11:00pm at night I am not sure what is going on. We've had quite an intense day.

On the bus ride, we met Tom from Australia who is a travel journalist on the road for a year himself. Groggy and out of it, we decided to share a cab into the surprisingly bustling city. Oh wait, of course it's bustling, it's Vietnam! We checked into our guesthouse, had a quick bite and hopped on yet another bus to the Cu Chi Tunnels. This incredible network of 275km of underground tunnels which served the Viet Cong in what we know as the Vietnam War. Here it is known as the American War. Andy has been reading The Girl in the Picture and I choked up as we drove up Highway 8 from Saigon to the Cu Chi Tunnels. I couldn't help but envision the famous photo of nine-year-old Kim Phuc running down the same road 36 years ago, her body aflame with napalm.

In the jungle, mock boobie traps were set up to show the terrible ways that soldiers were killed with bamboo sticks through trap doors. We actually walked through a section of the Cu Chi Tunnels which were dark and somewhat frightening. I was in pure disbelief that they actually had a 15 minute session where tourists could pay extra to fire guns actually used in the war. The cracking sound was too much for me - I hurriedly turned around and walked away as fast as I could. I am still in utter disbelief that they make a few extra bucks from tourists to shoot these devastating weapons. It makes my stomach hurt.

Afterwards, we went to the War Memorial Museum. I choked up again as I we studied photos of the injured and guerrilla warfare. Mock prisons and war stories made me cringe once again. It was a tough day. And now I am too tired to write about it anymore.

Sure, I've seen the infamous photo of Kim Phuc. Sure, I've heard about the unimaginable war crimes. And sure, I've learned about the history of the Vietnam/American War. But never has it affected on such a core level as it has today, on the very grounds where it occurred. It's not the same as from an ocean's distance. And I grieve.

"Does looser mean tighter in Vietnamese?"

2008-07-21T08:04:00.000-07:00

The city of Hoi An, Vietnam is a custom clothiers dream. It boasts over 500 tailor shops to accommodate needs you didn't even know you had for garb. We paled around with Walid & Louise, a wonderful couple from California and decided to go on a shopping spree. With digital photos of boots, jackets, shirts and shorts, we hopped on bikes and cruised down to Impressions Clothing Shop. Lovely ladies greeted us with warm smiles and dollar signs in their eyes. Amazingly, they had just a quick glance at our photos and made sketches of our designer clothing. Man, these people are whizzes! And the clothes will be done this afternoon? Too good to be true.

After spending the day at the beautiful Hoi An Beach, we rode back ready to try on our clothes. Absolutely nothing fits correctly. They make chalk marks, slap us on our rears and tell us to come back in two hours. A guy on a motorbike rushes in, takes the clothes and rushes out. Two hours later, we're back. Noooope. We analyze one another and still nothing fits right. This shoulder is tweaked, this length is too short, these buttons are crooked. Andy had two dress shirts made, same measurements and completely different lengths and fits. Meanwhile, we shuffle back and forth across the street finagling for perfect fits with boots and shoes. What have we gotten ourselves into?! And how are we going to carry it?!

After the fourth fitting, we were all going a bit nuts. This shirt wasn't even changed! Why don't they write anything down? Is this finished? Eye yey yey. Brilliantly, Louise ran across the street to get us some Tiger Beers to ease the pain. Piles of clothes abound with no organization. Walid pokes his head around the curtain as he is trying on some pants and shouts, "Does looser mean tighter in Vietnamese?" It must.

Finally, after two and a half days and too many hours, the clothes fit. We walked away relatively happy with our custom clothes in a new duffel bag. They say time is money and it most certainly is.

Vietnam: Lost in Translation

2008-07-13T21:11:00.000-07:00

Vietnam is so wildly different and counter intuitive than any country I have experienced. First off, everyone is L-O-U-D. I mean piercing to the ears to the point where I unintentionally jump at the unexpected sound. Yelling isn't considered rude here; it's simply how you communicate. Music blares from storefronts and a Vietnamese voice thunders from a PA somewhere. And horns...oh my gosh the horns. Honking one's motorbike, car or bus horn literally every 5 seconds is just what drivers do - it means "I am behind you" or "get out of my way" or "I'm honking just to honk because honking is such fun!" It's multiple times more intense than New York City. And you don't wait for a break in traffic to cross the street or else you will stand there all day long. You just enter into oncoming traffic and somehow the vehicles swerve around you. There is no strolling-on-a-Sunday-like walking, either. You've constantly got to be on the lookout for giant holes, boulders, muddy puddles, children, someone cooking, a pig, a stray dog, motorbikes on the sidewalk and pickpockets. Andy already had some lady sneak her hand into his pocket at the crowded night market in Hanoi a few nights ago as he turned around and said "What in the heck do you think you are doing?!?" Of course, she pretended like she didn't hear and walked away. You've got to be on your toes at all times with a hand squeezed around your valuables and a prayer.

The sights are so strange. Random giant bottles of brownish liquid contained with dead cobras or a goat stand on store shelves and restaurant bars. Raw mystery meat fills spring rolls. Dog meat is on the menu for 1/3 of the price of other meat. Smokers are allowed everywhere. This Internet cafe has burn marks along the top of the keyboard from smokers playing their Warcraft video games with a cigarette in hand. Scammers trying to nail you in any way they can, "Excuse me sir, I am an English student and need your help." "Oh no, this is the right hotel, the other one is full." We saw someone peeing on the sidewalk in midday. Vietnamese men call out to us from tuk tuks, "Where are you going? Let me help you. Let me give you a ride, cheap. Want a motorbike?" and they just follow us for a block right on our heels! You can't waver, it's got to be a loud and clear NO! Imitation restaurants, travel agencies and hotels are omnipresent. (Lonely Planet Vietnam is absolutely essential which we unfortunately received a day late and a dollar short - another story on that later.) Fish sauce on everything. My stomach is starting to feel weird all the time. A pizza has never tasted so good! And it is the hottest and most humid weather I have ever been in to boot. Sweaty, sweaty all the time.

It's tough because our nature wants to trust people, to assume someone is giving you the straight story. Sadly, that truth is a rarity so it's vital to continually remain skeptical. It's quite frustrating to feel discriminated against on a regular basis. Because we are white, immediately prices are more than doubled for everything from meals to hotels to cab rides to bottles of water. It pays to name a price in advance before agreeing to anything. I've heard a couple of stories of cab drivers in Hanoi and Saigon who even use a remote to speed up the meter. It's so messed up! Living most of my life in the US as a white person I have been very fortunate to never feel discrimination directed at me. Let me tell you, it is an incredible eye opener.

Last night I got really frustrated with it. We were charged double at an Internet cafe and tried to protest it but they spoke no English. Double meant $1.20 US vs. 60 cents so it really wasn't worth the hassle but to me it was more of the principle. So we just paid it and left feeling annoyed. Why should we be charged double because we are American? As we walked back to catch a much-needed shower and our overnight bus ride south to Hoi An (or so we thought - yet another story of the unexpected) I discovered that I was taking how we are treated personally. Why am I taking this personally? I asked myself. Then a light bulb came on - it's not personal at all! And if it is not personal, than why should I let it bother me? So I chose to laugh at the experience instead of internalizing it and letting it make me frustrated. As soon as I let go of the feeling of taking it personally I was set free.

It was a challenge, but I had to carry over that feeling this morning. After an overnight bus ride from Ninh Binh in the north we had a stop over at Hue on the central coast. Our plan and our open bus ticket showed that we stay on the bus and continue on to Hoi An. Well, the lady talked (very loudly of course) to us saying we had to get off here, that the bus was full. What the heck? So we tried to argue with her but she insisted that we had to get off the bus. It took all my strength not to crack - I bit my lip, got off the bus, grabbed our bags and stared blankly at Andy. We were fortunate enough to discover there was another bus ride in 5 hours and there were seats available to us. As you might imagine, we asked, "Well how do we know we have tickets for a seat? Because our tickets also said to stay on the bus to Hoi An!" Eye yey yey. So much miscommunication between the bus company employees, us, and who know who else. I had to take a few deep breaths and remember that expectations, even seemingly obvious ones only lead to disappointment. I told myself, Ok, don't take this personally, it's not this guy's fault. There are daily occurrences like this (like being told the overnight bus was new with a bathroom - nope! Not new, no bathroom) and we are faced with two choices: 1) Get frustrated and mad or 2) Take a deep breath, accept the situation and be thankful I have my wonderful husband at my side and my pack on my back. And who knows, Hue might be interesting for a few hours. And I get to spend this time venting on my blog, woo hoo!

Ok, so I am probably not selling you too well on Vietnam at the moment. Despite these idiosyncrasies, we've have a great time and learned many things about ourselves and our limits. We have seen natural beauty in Halong Bay that absolutely took our breath away. (See the photo album.) We are having so much fun with an awesome couple who we are now traveling south with. We laugh together over dinner and drinks at all the crazy things we've seen and endured. We are healthy, have each other and looking forward to Greece in a couple of weeks. We're going to a beautiful tropical beach next to chill out for a few days. And we are stronger for it all.

A Noble Birthday Indeed

2008-07-09T08:01:00.000-07:00

Photo Album. For some, spending a birthday in a 3rd world country like Laos in SE Asia (its the relatively new independent nation, northeast of Thailand and northwest of Vietnam) might mean let's buy buy buy all the cheap cheap cheap goodies that are for sale sale sale. From clothing to jewelry, knives to duvet covers, everything was sold at the Night Market and at prices that would make Silas Marner stop, shop & smile.

Well, not for my 29 years young bride. Despite her irritations with the aches and pains brought about by kayaking and...getting older (did I say that?), she had a different agenda for her big day. When I asked her days before, "What do YOU want to do and what do YOU WANT for your birthday?", she responded by insisting on giving, not taking. SCHWEET!! My birthday isn't for a month but sounds like its coming early!!! Well, that's me talking and NO, not her meaning. She was really wanting to give back to the unfortunate people, children especially, that lived around Luang Prabang.

The night before, that's July 6th in Laos and I think it was still July 5th in Southern Cali, she went shopping for the kids. My initial reaction was to shuffle around the streets shaking my head while she bargained with street vendors over colored clay, bubbles, spin wheels and the like. But you know what, I was really proud. Proud of Stacy for setting her priorities in a way she felt strongly about but might not be 'normal' for one's day of birth celebration. Later that night as we looked for deals in the Night Market, we came across a young student from the local university who was selling childrens' books (in Laos & English) in an effort to help raise money for schools and to raise the spirits of the kids in Luang Prabang. Stacy was drawn to the table of colorful books and began chatting with the soft-spoken fellow about his and HER plans for the books. He was quite pleased to hear she wanted to give them to the kids, to find needy youngsters and deliver them. He pointed in a direction of possible villages to visit.

So when we rose out of bed...at 10:30am on July 7th - it was her birthday ya know. She can sleep in on her birthday! We were immediately hit with rain, constant rain, not the tropical rain we were accustomed to thus far. This rain went on and on, but it did not deter us from our plans to rent bicycles and find a village outside of town, play with some children & distribute Stacy's books, gifts...and birthday cheer. We were soaked through the bone once we finally came across a small throng of kids playing down a long dirt, well mud road. There were 6-8 boys and girls from 2 years old to 6 or 7 playing and hitting each other (kids are kids - in San Diego or Luang Prabang, kids are kids) under a roofed concrete slab. We looked at each other, shrugged and agreed that this group was probably as good as any (and dammit it was pouring rain and I was waterlogged!!).

Again my pride in what we were doing, in what Stacy had us doing on this rainy birthday of her's invigorated me. We sat down on some benches and said "Sa-ba-dee" (Hello in Laos) to the aware but uno too sure youngsters. The looks on their faces were hilarious, "what were these 2 doing here?"As Stacy began pulling out her bubbles, I tried to convey to Momma, sweeping her store 30M away that we wanted to play with the children. I am sure she did not understand my words but the big smile & wave made me think she got my gist.

With bubbles flying and kids now standing and swatting them out of the air, I started molding colored clay into mini umbrellas, flowers & carrots. The children were warming up to the tall foreigners invading their play area and started to actively participate. They accepted my clay gifts and promptly squished each into a ball. Making, well, brown balls of clay - lovely. The bubbles were quite a hit and we now had all of them surrounding us with grins. A funny thing though when we pulled out some candy, they backed away and 1 or 2 of them actually ended up leaving soon after. Seems like the "don't take candy from strangers" rule bridges the miles. We put the sugar away and I grabbed my green frisbee which I have been traveling with since the inception. The children clammored about and were all about it! I got them to stand in a circle and we began flipping it around. They were good! "Come on, come on" some of the girls would yell. Other children would pass by on the muddy road and I would toss it over to them to see if their interested eyes would turn into active participation. For several, they were drawn to the antics going on and we had kids coming and going, even a few pre-teens I think. Stacy somehow got a very beautiful interpretive dance from 3 or 4 of the young ladies while us boys hucked the disc about. I'm sure this was not the most fun these little people had ever had, but the grins and laughter made me feel great about what we were doing. Looking over at Stacy brought a big grin and happiness to my face as well.

Stace showed the children the books (both in Laos only) and immediately had a reading circle of sorts around her. There were mathematics and stories about Laos-related activities & creatures. They were drawn to the pages. After a while the kids left the books on the bench, however. We agreed that they did not understand to take them, why would they receive books from complete strangers? We each found a mom and did our best to convey that we wanted the children to have them. They looked closely at the covers and after creative hand gestering understood. "Khop Jai" they said with big smiles - Thank you.

It was time to go, not because the rain had ceased, because it hadn't, but because it just felt like the right time. We zipped up our rain coats and hopped on our grey bicycles. We waved at the confused faces and wondered what they must be thinking about us strangers riding bikes in the mud who came bearing gifts. What the? As I rode off I looked back at Stacy, navigating the giant mud puddles and saw the ear to ear grin on her face.

Happy Birthday Stace.
Thank You Stace.

Laos: Willy Wonka's Chocolate Factory

2008-07-09T07:29:00.000-07:00

Photo Album. Laos was an incredible experience. There is so much to tell you, so many idiosyncracies and life lessons to share from a beautifully unknown and mostly untouched country (on the tourist trail anyway). It's hard to whittle it down to a story or two that will encapsulate the experience, but read on and imagine yourself here.

It was time for a bit of activity so we booked a kayaking trip on the Nam Ou river. The van was late and we patiently waited. In the US or any other western country, to have a tour van pick you up 30 minutes late would be something to ask or complain about. But not in Laos time. When it finally showed we hopped in with a handful of other westerners who were all going on a two day trek. Hmmm... We asked one of the guides on our bus to make sure and he said yes, this is a kayaking trip. We all just shrugged our shoulders, surrendered to Asian ways and watched Laos life go by from the window of the van as we drove deeper into the surrounding jungle. Eighty percent of Lao roads are unpaved so we were fortunate that only a few kilometers of the trip were bumpy. Who knew a van like this could make it up muddy steep inclines? We picked up five kayaks along the way from a random shed and continued on, stopping at three different roadside vendors for fruit and other food.

The van pulled over in a tiny village and the trekkers hopped out while three travelers from England jumped in. Again, we pulled over (well not really pulled over more like simply stopped in the lane) and received a 30 second lesson on three hours of white water kayaking. The helmets were cracked and the life jackets stunk of mildew but hey, at least we had them! No waivers to sign, no major training or safety, just good fun. That's Asia for you. Andy and I started in the single kayaks and the others in the doubles - architechure grad students Chris, Tom and Mark from South Hampton, England and our two trusty guides. After dropping in we immediately started splashing and trying to capsize one another other. The single kayaks are pretty squirrely which makes even the small rapids lots of fun! It's the wet season here so it was quite overcast and threatening rain but still about 80 degrees and humid.

After an hour or so on the water we pulled over to a sandy beach and enjoyed fried rice with vegetables, a baguette, fresh pineapple and bananas for lunch. (The town of Luang Prabang was a French settlement so we have been enjoying the French influence in cuisine like bread and crepes, non-existent in Asia for us in the last 5 weeks! Rice, noodles, more rice, more noodles...) A group of children from the Highland tribe were playing and throwing a giant net out in the milk chocolate colored river nearby trying to catch fish. After a while they were dressed, clustered together and watching us eat. I brought over half of our bread and rice, opened the lid and held it out to them assuming they would each take a piece. Instead, they all stared at the food and looked at me quizzically. One boy, maybe four or five years old took the plate from me and closed the lid as I turned away. So I walked back over, knelt down and handed out individual pieces of bread to the six children, two girls age six or seven each with a one-year-old on their backs. They took the bread, muching on it slowly as they kept staring, not so sure about me. I smiled and nodded and said "Mmmm!" as I fed another child spoonfuls of rice and another round of bread.

A giant, conical mountain peak covered in green jungle stood beautifully in the distance. The Brits came over and began to build a sandcastle imitating the same shape as the rugged mountain. They tried to engage the children but they had a what in the heck are you doing playing in the dirt? look on their faces. As the sandcastle began to take shape complete with a moat, plants and a bridge the children were more curious. One of the girls gave Tom a flower and he planted it on the top of the peak. Suddenly, the smiles were flowing as more children began to pick foliage and flowers and hand them to us but too shy to plant them on the structure themselves, except for one. This five-year-old boy stretched out but was too short to reach the top. My wonderful husband reached out and picked him up so he could plant the flower on the peak of the mountain himself. I was taking photos of them all the while. I showed the kids the photos and their enthusiasm ensued. They began to make funny faces at the camera and giggled uproariously as their tongues and hand gestures glowed back at them from the screen. It was incredible to watch the transformation from shy and unsure to pure joy and gregarious laughter. A smile and human kindness is truly universal.

We packed up our gear and headed back down Willy Wonka's river as thunder roared. The image of the hill tribe children encircling the sandcastle planting flowers and leaves as we rowed away will forever remain emblazoned in my mind.

Andy and I were now in a double kayak and a rapid crept up on us quickly. Suddenly we tipped over and as I scrambled to get back in I was wondering how in the heck that happened?! Our guides flipped us over with their oars! And I was so proud that I hadn't tipped over yet:) I laughed as I felt the refreshment of the cool water. The peaks behind us disappeared in the rainy mist. The mountains surrounding us were so vibrant and green, just dripping with bamboo and other tropical foliage. Rocks jutted out from jagged peaks as I imagined tigers and snakes hiding out. The rain began to fall and it was comfortably cool and refreshing as we paddled along to the finish.

I almost slipped backwards into the mud trying to drag our kayak out of the water but like a dozen times on this trip, thankfully I caught myself. We climbed up the mountainside and emerged into a monestary complete with orange-robed Buddhist monks on the steps of their temple. A giant gold Buddha stared at us as we washed off our muddy digits from their running water supply near their bamboo-made huts. Curiously, they watched us and we watched them. Chris asked if we could see inside their temple and they invited us inside. Our guides explained that they have many daily prayers and offerings, one of which is performed at dawn which must last for one hour before they can eat. The eldest monk covered in hand made tribal-like tattoos was sitting at the top of the temple steps sawing then hammering a dried out paint can to a stick. The monks use this simple contraption to gather the water to bathe themselves or to drink. I am consistently amazed how the monks and hill tribes use and reuse their natural resources. A good lesson for us all.

After a much needed warm shower, we bought a small bottle of sticky rice whiskey (for 5000 kip, or about 60 cents US) and headed out to the night market for a delicious dinner of street food. The smells are intense and intoxicating on many different levels. We settled on chicken on a bamboo stick (it tasted quite good but was mostly fat), sticky rice on a bamboo stick, raw veggie spring rolls with watercress, mint and carrot in a peanut/chili sauce, and a vegetarian plate of goodness from a roadside setup to share.

Sardines - Folded and Packaged

2008-07-04T00:59:00.000-07:00

Hello from the beautiful jungles of Northern Laos (pronounced Lao), in the French-influenced town of Luang Prabang. We just arrived yesterday, July 3rd and still cannot believe we are traversing the beautiful and untouched landscape of Laos. We took a 2-day slow boat ride from the northern Thai border at the city of Chiang Khong. This would be known as the scenic route for sure. The 2-day trip is a typical package deal for travelers in Northern Thailand looking to visit the more subdued, less touristy mecca of Laos. For $46 US, you are picked up in Chiang Mai by air conditioned grey mini bus, with 12 other crammed touristas and driven to the Thai Laos border 5+ hours away at Chiang Khong. This is where we got our first glimpse of the 12th longest river in the world, the Mekong. We got our first night's dinner and accommodation paid for as well as a skimpy little omelet & toast the next morning. Oh, and the Tang-like orange juice which I passed on thank you very much. We also started the Laos VISA process with a gentleman who said he did this everyday and then took our passports away with him for the night. Uh oh. It also was suggested we purchase a pillow for the boat ride for 40 baht (~$1.25US). Fine, I bought a blue one with crisscrossing stripes and Stacy one with little fish on it.

We were taken the next morning to secure our coveted passports and VISAs for Laos. We were dropped off at the river's edge and pointed down to the water. O-K. A throng of us whities looked at each other and shrugged as we were hustled into small 'long tail' boats and ferried across the brown Mekong River. Again we were directed by an unassuming fellow who moaned 'VISAs' and pointed to the right up some stairs. Our names were called out after a short wait and we paid our $35 in US greenbacks for our VISAs but more importantly got our passports back in our possession. Funny, we had to come all the way to Laos to see the US dollar again. Still unclear as to why?

Again, we were herded into a cluster and asked to board a pickup truck covered taxi. Our turtle shells (back packs) were heaved on the roof and off we went, inland so it seemed. But, aren't we taking a 2-day BOAT ride on the river that was back...THERE!? Stacy reminded me to just surrender and that is what I did as again our passports were taken away and we waited at an outdoor restaurant with dozens of other confused but patient travelers. We got the documents back and were directed again by grunt and finger point down to the water's edge where we stood in a bulging line of back pack-wearing youngsters and walked across a precarious plywood plank onto our boat. We were finally aboard the vehicle that would house us for the next 7 hours or so.

I think our relief was a little premature as we found our seats to be upright wooden benches, barely wide enough for 2 of us and definitely NOT deep enough for even one of my butt cheeks! But, glad we got those pillows, because ewowe! We dumped our luggage in the back engine room and settled in with the other 130 or so travelers. I knew this sitting situation was not going to last because my back was already aching. I remembered what cousin Matt had told us when he took this ride and how he sat in the rear with the luggage. It was a little more CO2 than I like to inhale but was far more comfy. Another guy followed me back there and we laid on the floor leaned up against a number of bags. 5 star all the way!!! I napped & read a while while Stacy conversed and made friends up front. The beautiful Laos jungle passed us by as we meandered our way down the river. It was truly a sight to see. Lush green jungles, mountains, the occasional buffalo & kids wading along the shore line. We felt we were having the real SE Asia experience! It was surreal. Thank god I was feeling better and my flu bug was kicked. Not the place to be going feeling like crap.

We were heading deeper and deeper into Laos and further into the jungle. It was an incredible feeling to be floating down the same river so many of our countrymen had 4 decades ago, probably with sniper fire all around. Laos was the victim of one of the most intensive bombing missions ever in the 60s & 70s with over 540,000 bombs dropped and 30% of those never exploding! So that means there are some 180,000 UXOs out there buried in the jungles. They have some retrieval programs going, but it is a slow go. Despite the discomfort and junk food we had to snack on, the experience was something special for all of us. We drank water and ate Oreos and chips - mmmm. And lucky we had those as what you brought on board was what you ate. The word 'Concessions' was lost in translation somewhere along the line!

We finally arrived at our night's destination, a tiny village on the river's edge, called Pak Beng. We balanced our way across another scary plank and made it to land. This was a one-road village, lined with ramshackle guest houses and merchants selling more junk food (dont think our stomachs can take it anymore) and souvenirs. We found our place for the night with a large room, king size bed, no creatures inside and a private bath. Fine and time for a shower!

The bathrooms are funny in SE Asia. The rooms tend to be all tile and have a sink and toilet like you would hope. The shower is not a separate space however and definitely NOT enclosed! It is just a movable hose with shower head and when it comes time to use it water gets everywhere. It is key, if you brought your own toilet paper with you, to put it up high and out of the way somewhere because its bound to get wet! The toilets are typically accompanied by a smaller, kitchen sink-like hose & head. So if you do not have TP, no worries just give a little arse spray and all is clean...and soaking wet! I have become accustomed to the butt spray, Stacy not so much. To each their own!

We went out for dinner and met up with some older folks we had seen on the boat. They were some of the only people NOT younger than us by years! And they seemed to be having a fun time. Good company indeed! A couple from just north of Sydney, Craig & Louise, a Belgian lady named Charlotte and another nice lady from Northern California, who is a teacher at Menlo College, & who I know Momma Conlon would love!

We laughed a lot & enjoyed some Laos Koy Buffalo (minced meat, rice noodles, lemon & chili) and mashed potatoes. Craig & I were both excited about the prospect of mashed potatoes!! We drank a number of BeerLao & the ladies drank red wine. The waiter brought by some lao lao which is a rice whiskey for us to try. We laughed and talked about about future & past travels, before going off to sleep.

We found out in the morning that a younger female traveler from our boat & who was staying at our place was robbed of her ipod last night. Yikes! Do we have ours?! Yes. We ate some tasty pancakes (much like the delicious ones in Indo) and walked around town. The rain had joined us and brought with it the low white clouds that complete the mental image I have of the region. The vegetable market was going on just up the road from our guest house and we took a quick look before going to board the boat at 8:15am. We were on a larger boat today, but I think they were consolidating 2 boats into one. We scouted out our seats - today we would be on the floor against the front walls next tot the flip flop area and believe it or not that was prime real estate. There were dozens of chairs with backs but the thought of lying on the floor sounded much more comfortable to us. We attempted to maintain our little rectangles of space as more and more travelers boarded the boat and wide eyed, wondered where they were going to sit. The boat seemed quite overfilled and soon we were lying everywhere, head to foot, foot to back, you name it, we were packed in however it was going to work. Some were in the very back with the engine, others overflowed to the captain's chagrin upstairs into his wheelhouse and sleeping area. Stacy found a spot up against a dresser and between the chain steering column. We posted as best we could and made nice with 6-8 floor lovers around us. We played some cards, read and tried to sleep in the spaces available. This day, it was raining quite a lot and the beautiful low clouds draped the hillside jungles and it was like you see in the movies. WOW! It was breathtaking and believe it or not, much more comfortable than Day 1! I think everyone figured out their system and even though most of us were lying on the floor, we weer comfortable. Many people were drinking warm beerlao and most were reading. There was even a dining room table in the back where several games of poker were going on. Wacky!

The scenery was marvelous however and made the trip quite enjoyable! After about a 7 hour journey into the beautiful country, the boat pulled around and we disembarked in Luang Prabang. It is a great little town with amazing French architecture but mixed in with historical Laos temples, cut in between 2 intersecting rivers and nestled in a valley with mountainous jungles all around. We are soaking it in as much as we can. Time to get out and enjoy it!

Deep in the Thailand Jungle

2008-06-28T03:27:00.000-07:00

We returned from a 3-day jungle trek a few days ago which is quite possibly one of the best adventures we've had so far! Picked up at our guesthouse early in the morning, eight of us loaded into the back of a covered red pickup truck on bench seats. Poor Andy couldn't sit up straight for 3 hours, but thankfully we stopped a couple of times for a nice stretch and a fried banana snack as well as the bizarre tourist police station.

Bat (pronounced Baaht), our trusty guide, led us along the dense jungle track in Khao Yai National Park near the Myanmar border to his village of the Karen indigenous hill tribes people. (See photo album.) The 5km track we hiked into the village was the path he and 17 other children walked twice daily to and from primary school. The village is a bunch of huts made of bamboo in a valley surrounded by green mountains on all sides. As we walked down the dirt footpath, chickens ran freely as we exchanged the greeting "amuchopeur" with the locals. Each family of the 270 villagers owns a pig and a chicken. Since there is no electricity or refrigeration, when a pig or cow is ready to eat the whole village feasts and shares among one another. They are completely self sufficient by growing their own vegetables, rice and tobacco as well.

We feasted hungrily on green curry chicken, bean sprouts, tofu and green beans for dinner by candle light which was cooked in a wok over an open fire. We laughed the night away playing games around the campfire and drinking warm beer. Our accommodation consisted of a large open room for all 14 of us to sleep including a mat, blanket, pillow and an obsolete mosquito net covered in holes. The group of us from California, England, Finland, Ireland, the Czech Republic and Australia fell asleep to a chorus of jungle frogs.

The next morning we awoke early to - you guessed it - the sound of roosters. Seems like our daily wake up call in SE Asia. After breakfast of scrambled eggs and toast, we headed out in the heat towards the next village 7 km away. We stopped at the village rice paddy and helped the villagers plant rice for a while which was an incredibly humbling experience - planting rice is backbreaking work!

The hike was uphill from there when suddenly, when I thought I could go no further, a glimpse of an elephant came into view from a river down below. The elephant camp! It was a beautiful sight: six elephants basking in the afternoon sun along the rocky river's edge with a few bamboo huts dotting the leafy shoreline. Noodle soup and pineapple was served for lunch as the elephant trainers doused the pachyderms with cool water to ready them for the jungle walk. We hopped on and cruised along the river Indiana Jones style with our friend Issac sitting bareback on its neck! My knuckes were white with fear, gripping the metal seat as we went downhill but over time I relaxed like getting used to hot water. Large orange tip and turquoise/black butterflies flitted about as we hobbled along the jungle with the sounds of cicadas and crickets in the air. Finally, we reached the village and we all ran straight for the swimming hole! The group of us from all over the world frolicked and bathed in the cool water before relaxing or playing a game of football ( soccer) against the locals during the afternoon. Another delicious dinner by candlelight with more stories and laughter.

Our last day was spent on homemade bamboo rafts floating down the wide river that runs all the way from Burma through Bangkok to the south of Thailand into the sea. We used giant bamboo sticks to steer off the back of the raft as we cruised through Level I & II rapids. I felt like I was on the Jungle Cruise at Disneyland as we passed river cows and elephants along the way.

Unfortunately, on that last day Andy wasn't feeling so good and had run a pretty high fever by the time we returned to our guesthouse in Chiang Mai. The doc says it's some sort of Asian flu. So lots of rest for him while I have been exploring the city and checked out a crazy Muay Thai boxing match with some friends we met on the trek. As soon as he gets better we'll take a Thai massage class then hit the road to Laos.

More lessons learned - Thailand style

2008-06-21T03:48:00.000-07:00

The image that comes to mind for me is from the great 80s blockbuster, Stand by Me. You know, the one about the 4 pals who skip town on a whim to go search for the body of a missing boy. They pack their camping gear, one of them swipes there ole man's pistol and they set off on their journey down the railroad tracks skipping stones and humming songs about candy. Fond memories for me, no question. Now, in my mind I transport these kids to Thailand, on the same mission, doing the same thing, singing the same songs (although I doubt the singing would last as long) & maybe even getting sicked by Chopper the stray Thai dog. I try to visualize them walking on the train tracks, picking up rocks and bending down with their ears to the tracks to listen to the vibrations of an approaching locomotive. I try.

Problem is, in Thailand and probably more places than I'd like to think about, septic tanks on trains are not, shall I say contained. Septic tanks on the trains here, to be more precise are not, here. Nothing, nada, no dice. If the picture is not yet crystal, here goes...

We traveled on a 14 hour sleeper train last night (an 8hr one the night prior as well BTW) and when I awoke at O dark thirty AM to do what lots of men my age do in the middle of the night...pee, I thought nothing of it. Sure it wasn't a westernized toilet or "throne", but that was no biggie, they tend not to be in public zones in SE Asia anyways. It was a floor-level basin with ribbed footpads for traction if one needed to squat. Not my issue at this time, mind you. I returned to my upper bunk opposite the aisle from my bride and crashed. Then, as the light began to filter into the train car and the train rocked around turns, my half of ambien had worn off and the urge again came over me. I ambled down the aisle (built for tiny Thais by the way. Geesh!) opened the tiny Alice in Wonderland door, shut it behind me and paused. I craned my neck forward and down, nearly taking a misstep or unfortunate lean against a not-so-clean surface. What the? My future pee and everybody's past, present and future #2s were not piling up like an underground pyramid like so many of have seen while camping. No. All of these aforementioned pleansantries were gone, left behind, they had exited stage right. Maybe the light I had seen filtering into the train car earlier hadn't been through the windows at all. But up from the toilet!! A hole of light and railroad tie met the gaze of my craned head. Out the train and onto the tracks. An offering for the villages we passed by? Maybe the stray Choppers sniffing about? Who knows? Definitely not a stringent Board of Health here I imagine.

So back to my vision of the 4 fine fellas picking up flat rocks, dropping their bags on the tracks, kneeling or really just walking. Note to self, the next time I get the urge to pull a Stand By Me moment and do an old fashioned train dodge or give Stacy a big hug on the tracks somewhere in the northern mountains of Chiang Mai, I won't. She won't and I hope you won't.

Lesson learned!

Traveling Buddies

2008-06-19T18:28:00.000-07:00

Stacy & I. Andrew Nathan and Stace Marie. Hubby & Wife. Best Pals. All of those things before we embarked on our world-wide journey and all of those things still.

Its just...well, different some how. Don't get the wrong idea, its great. Different can be good too ya know. Traveling together on a 2 week vacation can be trying at times as I'm sure we all can confess too. So many decisions to make, details to plan for. A sun burn here gets us cranky, maybe worries about work back home get us riled, maybe someone wants to sleep in and the other wants to watch the Lakers get killed by 40 points in the Finals. You know what I'm saying. With all the good also come the tricky.

Its the tricky that make us work and make us think and make us concede and hopefully urge us to compromise. After all, if things were always pie in the sky great, life would be mundane perhaps, uninteresting? We all love it when things go our way of course, its fun! But how do we grow when that is always the case. What do we learn when we are not challenged by life? We are often best judged (I don't want to use that word, but) in difficult situations. "When the going gets tough, the tough get going". As for Stacy and my extended travels go, we have had unbelievable adventures and many moments of sheer bliss and excitement together. It has been remarkable and wonderful to do this now, in the way we have and to the places we've been.

As far as memories go for me, however, I may end up 20 years down the road, remembering this trip for what it did for my growth as a husband and friend of my wife. We are 24/7 together, traveling buddies, compadres, connected at the hip in many ways on a daily basis. We do have our alone time - me to watch the Lakers lose by 40 in the Finals and Stace to email or do a yoga class or take a walk. But generally we are seldom apart. It is interesting this dynamic. Much more so than life before Fiji. When we'd wake up in the morning together, but go to work for 10+ hours, deal with other stimuli, frolic with the doggie, talk on the phone, see friends and then come back together in the evenings or the weekends. Its always.

We have our disagreements, or battles sometimes. Why are we doing that? Wouldn't it be better to do this? Some big ticket items, like to train or bus it? When do we leave Thailand for the next place? I don't care about Vietnam. But I do! But generally, in the 24/7 nature that is us, we tend to squabble over the little things. Why'd you get 2 bottles of water? They are heavy to carry. I don't know, I thought we'd need them. Or what hotel (I use the term loosely) are we going to? How about this one? No, lets keep walking. UGGGG. In these times it can be frustrating for sure. Easy to take sides and hold ground. Or, maybe give in but hold that as a grudge until dinner when the anger manifests itself into a pissed off remark or petty disagreement. There can be no denying it, we have had plenty of these episodes in the 4 months of our trip. Sometimes we handle them and communicate well and other times we aren't so graceful about it. I have learned a lot about myself with each and every setback. I realize I do judge. I do think there is a better way or more efficient matter to get somewhere. It eats at me when something goes against this 'obvious' way. But why? Isn't this trip about adventure? About being together through thick & thin, rolling with the punches the world throws and loving each other more than anything? Again, if everything went swimmingly, we wouldn't have a blog audience. All anybody remembers are the fights and and struggles. Who really cares about the beautiful Milford Sound? Do you even remember that blog?

I have become so much more aware of myself and what I am made of. What my tendencies are and when to push my beliefs and to defer to my better half. It really wasn't until today after a brilliant Thai massage (for $3 US!!) and visit to a Buddhist meditation site that I really want to be in tuned with this. To let go of the need to efficiency or the right way, whatever that is in my mind. I want to be satisfied with my lovely wife, with everything she does, what she chooses and what SHE wants. I have been guilty at times of judging her choices in the past as not as good as what I would have done or maybe given her a look or held a grudge when we got off the train at the wrong stop or temporarily misplaced some Baht (Thai $$). Why? The trip of life is about the adventure, the unknowns, the good and the bad, the ups and the downs. Its about us and going at it together, with understanding and love. Compromise and deference. What doesn't kill us makes us stronger I believe.

I know what I will remember most about my trip around the world, my wife.

Sawat dee kaa from Bangkok

2008-06-19T17:15:00.000-07:00

In the last 15 hours we have been on a boat, bus and overnight train from the tiny island of Koh Tao on the eastern side of the southern peninsula and back to Bangkok. You'd think that arriving at 4:30am the town would be asleep, but when they say the Thais wake up early they are not kidding. That's me in my bunk on the train. We slept with our bags at our feet and a curtain to offer a slight bit of privacy in a room of 30 other people. Surprisingly, there were no bugs, animals or stink and the sheets were fresh (or so it seemed)! Just a layer of dirt on things which I've come to accept as a SE Asia way of life. Though a rat did greet me in the train station. We opted for coffee.

The local city bus doesn't quite stop to pick customers up so you sort of have to time it right to jump on as its rolling forward. Along the damp street, Buddhist monks are dressed in pumpkin orange robes and bare feet as a constant reminder of the importance of letting go representing their detachment from the physical world. Vendors receive deliveries of fresh vegetables and flowers in palm leaf woven baskets and sell everything from fried crickets to dentures to brass charms with a photo of the king. Smells of BBQ, fresh flowers, moth balls and exhaust sporatically fill the air with sounds of motorized engines, honks and Thai music. Giant photos of the king and tangled power lines are ubiquitous. Tuk tuk (3 wheeled taxis) drivers call out to tourists trying to give them a lift to their hotel (they are mostly scammers, don't do it!). A mess of Thai characters are sprinkled about with the occassional English words. The little Thai we have picked up has been a grave help.

Comparatively, Koh Tao Island is very westernized. We spent most of our five days on a boat and scuba diving (we saw a black tipped reef shark!!!) as well as swimming, snorkeling and reading books on the beach. Pad Thai and fried rice were daily meals, along with delicious fresh fish caught right off the island. We rented an ATV one day to explore the 21 square km island and found loads of dirt roads with deep crevasses that dropped off vertically. With little tread on the tires we slid out a bit and certainly got the adrenaline pumping! Today we shop in Bangkok, get visas for Laos and Cambodia and head out on another overnight train to Chiang Mai.

Dear Matt,

2008-06-13T03:24:00.000-07:00

What can I say, cuz? Indo was more than our bodies & minds would have ever expected. We are looking back on our impromptu visit to Bali as a highlight. Not only because is was neato and fun, warm and sunny, but because it pushed us! Pushed our comfort zones, introduced us to experiences we'd never even considered and really broadened our horizons, both for this trip and life in general. Sharing space with you for such great QT for so long was the yogurt on the fruit plate, the wasabi in the soy sauce - it made it something special, something memorable. Thank you!

Starting with our 1:20 AM pick-up at the Denpassar airport to having our room with a view and patio dialed in upon arrival, you made the experience special & us so happy! Introducing your older cuz to your motor bike has changed my perspective for sure (not that I'm rushing out to buy one when I get home though)! And it allowed us to see the country in a way that not many 2-week tourists get to; zooming past locals and flying up and down back country roads with the wind and crumbled crackers (inside joke) flying past. Having your nearly seamless Indo linguistics accompanying us for most adventures proved most invaluable and those monkeys that were riding on Stacy's back and scratching themselves in Uluwatu, what was that all about?!? WOW I say.

We got the tour of our lives in Bali and also into Lombok! That little beach on the southwest coast, Banko Banko was epic! Talk about the real Indo experience - friendly locals (we loved Gusto by the way & that little bald grom, what was his name again?), basic but tasty eats, plenty of Bir Bintang & awe-inspiring surf (at least for a day or 2, right?). I loved filling our petrol tanks with the 40s of diluted petrol on the side of the road, when will that happen again? Uh, never (well, maybe when we meet again, right?). Traveling with you to the Gilis or simply sitting perched on your veranda playing cards and listening to Bob, we felt so comfortable. Talk about a good travel buddy, it was always easy and fun - so many laughs and interesting factoids. Seeing you operate was really something special for Stacy & I. You are living the dream and making your world what you want it to be. Despite your simple life, you are anything but simple & doing it so great! We learned more about SE Asia from you than we had from Lonely Planet and really got interesting insights from you about Taoism and living in the now. Keep those memories of the past right there, in the past, huh?! Live for the now, like RIGHT NOW! That is truly all we have, right now! (hmmm, I'm in Bangkok & sitting inside in an internet shop w/2 loud Welchies right behind me...What am I doing RIGHT NOW?)

Anyways, Stacy & I are wishing you all the best and cannot throw enough love your way. We had an adventure never to be forgotten, but hopefully duplicated sometime soon. Good luck with the ladies by the way.

Much Love,

Andy & Stace

P.S. - That early morning after Sapporos & Sake, tossing the Aussie boomerang we got you. That, was icing on the proverbial cake for me. I had to go all the way to the sands of Kuta Beach, Bali to throw my first real B'rang. I even caught 2 of my own! WOW!

Indonesia: Nightlife

2008-06-12T20:58:00.000-07:00

On our first night in Kuta we hung out with a friend of Matt's named David from Santa Cruz. Matt and Andy were jonesing to play pool and grab some Bintang beers so we headed out. Good pool tables in Indo are hard to come by, so we found ourselves at a brothel with two sweet tables. Evidently prostitution is criminalized in Indo (unlike Oz and NZ), but the party still goes on. Girls in short skirts and heels flirt with the men and I understand that once they decide to go to his hotel room, he pays $15 US to the bar and $35 US to the girl. Remember that the average Balinese lives off of the equivalent of $70 US per month. It was an entertaining sight to watch the scenes go down but we left before it got too late so I assume we only saw the tip of the iceberg!

On our second night in Kuta a couple of American friends of Matt's were having a birthday BBQ at their place. It sounded delicious, they were going to pick up some fresh fish from a local fishing village and cook it up for everyone. Thinking we were fashionably late, we got there with only fish heads left on the plate. Alas, we grabbed some nasi campur instead while drinks and dancing ensued in the living room. Since it was the host's birthday, his girlfriend whispered to us all that she wanted to take him to a ladyboy show as a surprise. And a surprise it was (for all of us)! We were greeted at the entrance by some strangely sexy women and the show was already on the road, complete with catwalking, lip-syncing, sparkly costumes and colorful make-up (Steve-o, I was thinking of you the whole time). Suddenly, the birthday boy was on stage dancing with the ladyboys, clearly full of beers but took it in stride.

So the first two nights: brothel and ladyboy show. Matt, what is next?! And we laughed. It was tame from there. We got pretty hooked on playing cards - Golf and Rummy 500, a daily occurrence along with enlightening philosophical and intellectual conversations. I loved getting to know my new cousin with uninterrupted time that may never happen again in our lifetimes to this extent. Matt also has a TV and pirated DVDs are quite a business so we watched a few movies as well.

On the island of Gili Trawangan there was a great Indo reggae band that played plenty of Bob Marley to get the island vibe groovin'. We also went to this giant outdoor restaurant/bar/disco called Ocean Club in Kuta that had costumed actors on stilts pouring shots from the bottle Rosarito-style. We witnessed a security guard with a giant machine gun pug a beer then smile for the camera (pictured). Good times, thanks to Matt!

Indonesia: Scuba Diving

2008-06-10T19:06:00.000-07:00

Eleven dives each are now in our log books! Amed was by far the best scuba diving and most memorable bungalow experience. We left Kuta at 8am on our motorbike while Andy drove and I wore a backpack to get us through the next 7 days. Even though we had a map, we got pretty lost leaving Kuta since there are no street signs anywhere. Four hours later, we found ourselves in Amed with sore arses and tired shoulders with a layer of grime on our faces. Andy looks down and the key is suddenly gone from the ignition. Whaa? He swore he just saw it so we drove up and down the same 1km stretch no no avail even though it had a bright red lanyard attached to it. Andy pulled into a garage shop and explained the problem while both of us are emphasizing "Don't turn the motor off" and what does the guy do, he shuts it off. An F bomb dropped out of my mouth while Andy remained very calm. Luckily these guys had a motorbike ignition so we waited for 20 minutes as they fixed us right up for a whopping $10 US.

We found an absolutely stunning hotel on the waterfront called Kembali Bungalows with Jukung Dive shop across the street. We were exhausted by then and the hotel pool on the water was glistening on this gorgeous day so we set it up to dive the next day, which was quite possibly the day I could repeat for the rest of my life. We awoke early to the sound of roosters (well ok, maybe this part not so much) and enjoyed a breakfast of banana pancakes, fruit and yogurt in the open air restaurant. Jukung Dive was ready for us as we suited up and headed out. They have a relationship with the local fisherman so we used their tiny jukung boats from the black sand beach directly in front of the hotel that fit max 3 people. We headed up the coast and saw the stunning and majestic Agung volcano in the background and dropped in to Amed Wall II. Too many beautiful fish and coral to recount on this dive and the second one in the afternoon, so I will leave it at that. The dive shop fed us lunch afterward of nasi goreng and we enjoyed the seaside views next with our dive buddy Charles from India. We spent the afternoon lounging by the pool (see photos, this hotel was amazing) in the warm sun and reading the Bali Times and Asian Diver Magazine. As the sun was setting we shared a bottle of white when and went for dinner on at a nearby warung on the beach with nothing but the sound of wooden wind chimes and ocean waves with views of sparkling stars. Très romatique!

Ok but this post is about scuba diving. Gili Trawangan Island is a tiny 1km long island off the coast of northeastern Lombok that caters to travelers - the most Western people I have seen in one place in Indo! Pillow seating underneath palm bungalows lined the dirt path with no motorized vehicles, only horse pulled buggies. We found a sweet place complete with mossy nets with an upstairs patio overlooking the ocean. We did 4 dives off the coast, two of which went towards our advanced diver certificate - Deep Water and Night Dive. We can now go 30 meters, anytime! Plenty of sea turtles and the moray eel were the highlights here. The night dive, however, was frightening to say the least. The current was quite strong underwater and with just our torches to light the way my breath was shortened in a mild state of panic as I tried to avoid slamming into the rebar biodome that our instructor found necessary to swim against the current towards. The one interesting part of the dive was turning the torch off and waving our hands to see a sea of phosphorescent lights surround us - I felt like we were on another planet! Very luckily I found a mooring rope and grabbed on for dear life as I was at 50 bar and needed the group to ascend. The current on the surface was worse and tried for dear life to avoid slamming into moored boats. Frankly, I don't feel much like writing about it anymore since I was so frightened so I will leave it at that. Needless to say we are fine, but in the future I will never go on a night dive with a strong current.

The strangest part about Gili Trawangan was the Muslim Mosque and its SIX TIMES DAILY call to prayer, starting at 5:30am. Thank heavens for earplugs!

Indonesia: Eats & Drinks

2008-06-08T21:05:00.000-07:00

Spicy and sweet are the favorite flavors of the Indonesians. If you don't ask for no sugar in your coffee or tea it's dripping with sweetness and spicy chili sauce accompanies most savory dishes. Good thing we like to eat rice, as nasi is the staple of most Indonesian cuisine. Nasi campur (pictured) is a favorite street food of ours. Street vendors, usually older Indo ladies, cook up home made individual dishes of fried tofu, vegetables (cucumber, green beans, spinach like greens), chicken and beef and you choose which items you want over steamed rice. It's wrapped in a brown paper, tied with a rubber band and eaten with the right hand (left is used for bathroom business). Nasi goreng is a fried rice dish with chopped carrots and cabbage and topped with a fried egg and shrimp crackers. Indos tend to eat when they are hungry so they eat alone, unlike Westerners who enjoy eating together as a means to bring people together socially. Warungs (Indo restaurants) now dot the cities for tourists more than the locals and in many places serve Brazilian, Chinese and Aussie food as well.

A giant banana pancake is a breakfast favorite and served with fresh fruit such as pineapple and papaya. Super sour yogurt chock full of acidophilus is a treat to have on top of fruit drizzled with a bit of honey. Jaffels are another breakfast and lunch item which is 2 pieces of sweet white bread put in a sandwich press like a panini and filled with savory items like cheese, tomato and avocado or sweet such as bananas and honey. The bread is smothered in butter so it gets crispy and delicious like toast.

Bintang is the beer of choice! A pilsner, it comes in a 22 oz. bottle. Since it is so warm outside, you have to drink it fast. Arak is the local spirit derived from palm trees and usually mixed with fruit juices. All fruit juice is the fruit thrown into the blender, nothing packaged. Lassi is another popular drink that is fruit and yogurt blended together.

The diet staples we are missing is anything with whole grains and good wine! :)

Indonesia: Surfing

2008-06-08T19:47:00.000-07:00

I wish I could say we rip it up on these perfect Indo waves, but we don't. Matt is an excellent surfer and has taken us to a couple surf spots on Bali and Lombok, one of which is arguably the best surf spot in the world: Tablet.

We took a 4-hour ferry across the Bali Strait to the island of Lombok. Thankfully, we had our International Driver's license obtained from AAA before we left. It turned out to be a brilliant last minute after thought as the police definitely check for proper license and registration at the borders. A 3-hour drive south landed us in Banko Banko and finally Tablet, a very small and basic surf village at the end of an incredibly rocky and pothole filled 5 km dirt road. Alas, the back of the bike slipped out going up a steep and very dry dirt and rock portion and Andy and I tipped left on the bike, and thankfully were caught by our left feet on the ground. Unfortunately, our right lower inside calves landed on the hot muffler, mine a bit more than Andy's and left me with a second degree burn. Upon arrival we met Augusto, a native Lombok surfer with dreadlocks, who manages the bungalows and warung (Indo restaurant). I smiled with relief as he handed me a chunk of ice for my quickly swelling and throbbing calf. Made purely from bamboo and palm leaves, our bungalow was very basic but comfortable with a couple of beds and a roof. The camp is adjacent to a small fishing village and farm so roosters and chickens ran freely along with the locals. We bathed with water from buckets in a deep well. We were fortunate to arrive after a squat toilet was recently put in. When I went to use it for the first time, it was already dark so with my headlamp I braved the way. I heard cowbells and saw wide apart glowing eyes and finally a roofless square built from palm leaves and Eureka, I had found it. We slept very well with the only sounds of the crashing waves and crickets until dawn when the multiple roosters gave us a cockle-doodle-doo wake up call. Earplugs are by far the best travel accessory in my bag!

The Tablet wave is a perfect barrel reef break. Andy and I watched intently from the bamboo lounge chairs facing the bright blue water, somewhat jealous but also thinking it's kinda scary to get pounded by 6 foot waves over the reef! Surfers came in with bacteria infested cuts that need to be treated quickly and thoroughly with antiseptic or a bad infection will prevail. Instead, we decided to snorkel and swim past the break but the tide wasn't low enough and the waves just pounded us. I lost a shoe that floats soI found it, but Andy's mask and snorkel that doesn't float for some odd reason got ripped from his neck and is now sitting on the ocean bottom somewhere. He tumbled a bit and the reef scraped him in a few places. Walking in from that semi-scary experience we decided that we are moving too fast! We should have just been patient, waited for the waves to settle and walk around the point. I realized in addition to the leg burn that the lesson here is to slow down. Just slow it down. There is no need to rush or act like a hero. We counted our blessings that we were safe and sound and really it could have been much worse. I did go for a snorkel myself (since I still had my mask, sorry Drew!) after the tide went lower and walked around the point. Deep channels of reef dropped off into the ocean as I entered very carefully and slowly (per my lesson learned) and relished in the cool, calm waters around the point. I received the wonderful and memorable gift of seeing a giant sea turtle along with beautiful fish.

Another great surf spot we visited was Dreamland in south Bali. Another beautiful wave, this time a barrel shore break. Matt surfed and Andy body surfed while I laid on the beach and got a massage. You can't sit on a popular beach in Bali and not get harassed by locals selling you jewelry, DVDs or watches. It's their livelihood so I can't blame them, but as you might expect it does get a little annoying so we've learned the stern yet important phrase of tidak mao meaning no way! But I did surrender here on the beach as I slept on a crummy pillow the night before and my neck was tweaked. I laid down and felt a pair of hands on my back then wait...another pair of hands then yet another? Is that six hands?! This was a first! So for an hour I relished in a massage by three ladies listening to their Indonesian banter while the boys enjoyed the waves. I overpaid them all (a total of $10 US) since Matt knew them and they showered me with hug after hug after hug. It put a smile on my face to know how happy the extra money made them.

So surfing...well, I decided it's not for me. Since we are back in Kuta now for the next few days with a gentle wave break Andy is going to brave it. I will be quite content on the beach reading the novel Shantaram and allowing my burn to heal.

[Photos hopefully coming soon...the connection is slow here and the power has already gone out once, wiping out the hour and a half of downloads I started...]

Indonesia: Motorbiking

2008-06-05T03:14:00.000-07:00

Don't kill us Mom & Dad, but we rented a motorbike for $2 US per day (with helmets of course) and it's how we've been getting around Bali and Lombok for the past week. I never, ever thought that I would be up for this type of crazy adventure so you can blame it on Matt for giving us the gusto. Andy first practiced around town in Kuta gaining confidence while I rode with Matt and let me tell you, the Kuta environs have to be the most hectic. There is nothing like trial by fire! Cars, trucks, motorbikes, bikes and pedestrians zooming every which way, all participating in a delicate dance of organized chaos on the narrow two lane roads lacking shoulders or sidewalks. Admittedly, the feeling is simultaneously both exhilarating and frightening. When in Indo do as the Indonesians do, right?

With the warm wind blowing on our faces we are quite fortunate to witness daily Indonesian life. Hindu temples with intricate carvings are interspersed in the villages between shanty-like brick and plaster buildings. Ladies donning a cotton t-shirt and brightly printed sarong carry a tray of palm leaf boxes full of flowers and the occasional cracker as a daily offering to the gods and gently place it on a doorstep. Sadly, the garbage business doesn't seem to exist so instead rubbish is liberally strewn about. A small fire crackles along the roadside and the smell of burning plastic negatively greets our nose. Another small fire burns and just as suddenly the beautiful aroma of barbecue meat passes by. Then we pass a bus or a motorbike spitting out black fumes from the exhaust pipe as I quickly pull up a bandanna over my scrunched face while emaciated stray dogs sleep and trot along the dirt roadside. Shops and storefronts line the streets selling nasi goreng (a popular rice dish), bottled beverages, knicknacks and petrol out of an old Absolut vodka bottle. We stop to fill up since the petrol station was out of gas and the locals immediately engage with us. "Where are you going? Where are you coming from?" They want to know. It is important for them to know. We communicate with hand gestures and broken English before we graciously say terima kasih (thank you). Up and over the hill and occasional pothole or dirt road section we come upon an incredible panoramic vista of rice paddies dotted with workers wearing triangular straw hats. The mountainsides are covered in brilliant green palm trees and the sea shows off blues varied from aquamarine and turquoise to a deeply brilliant purple. The dark brown hard-lined faces of men and women of all ages glance up at us from rock quarries of a grueling day's work. Old ladies in printed dresses walk with a giant u-shape curved knife in one hand and and a bundle of sugarcane on the other shoulder. Children dressed in uniform walking home from school wave and give us the wonderful gift of a giant, white tooth smile and a boisterous "allo!" and the occasional high five. We are a bit of a wonder, these white-skinned Europeans passing through their small village - no doubt a story to tell their friends.

The items carried on motorbikes still leaves me in awe. It's quite common to see two adults on a bike with a baby, or sometimes even a baby and a small child - the local family wagon going where is necessary. Ladies riding side-saddle breast feeding a small child. Men carrying a giant stack of cardboard boxes, a stick of bamboo 4 meters long (where is the red flag!?), a giant birdcage balanced on the back, half of them not wearing a helmet and every man over the age of 18 with a cigarette hanging out of his mouth.

Today, as we were driving from Banko Banko in Lombok to the ferry to Gili Trawangan Island, we took a much needed break to rest our sore behinds and relish in a pug of water on the roadside. We happened to stop in a Muslim village across from a school classroom. As if the school children took a break to watch us kids covered the windows with waves and smiles to stare at us from across the narrow street. While I searched for a restroom (to no avail), a teacher's aid in the alleyway eyed Andy and Matt and gingerly blew kisses at them. We stopped to talk with a few children who were asking the ubiquitous "Where are you going? Where did you come from?" with more smiles and engaged in a broken conversation. It was a delight to experience. No, we are not in Kansas anymore and I like it.

Brunei, a secret gem

2008-05-29T03:16:00.000-07:00

Well, the fact that this post is taking place while resting in the Brunei airport, much could happen in my near future to push me to amend this posting. But so far, the travel experience has been one to remember! Brunei, I recently discovered is a small country on the northern coast of the Island of Borneo. Apparently, a very wealthy nation, rooted in oil. Well, this was to simply be our layover point for our trip from Sydney to Bali, where we are heading to spend some QT with my cousin Matt Bergdahl.

Our itinerary showed us Royal Brunei Airlines and a 5+ hour layover before we would be heading to the island paradise of Bali. When first booked, our faces showed a touch of angst and anxiety. 5 hours?!? In an airport?!? In an unfamiliar place?! In a Muslim country!?!? To say butterflies were fluttering as we ate breakfast this morning would be a bit of an understatement. We were serious when we spoke about Stacy covering up, wearing black (well, that's about the only color she has in her bag anyways) and trying to be low key - who knows what's in store!? But, in good Bergdahl Traveler faith we affirmed smooth sailing (well, flying really) and felt confident that the gale force breezes that have been blowing us around thus far for the past 99 days wouldn't fail us now.

Affirmation #1 was to hope that we would not need proof of an onward ticket out of Bali. As we have discovered when you travel into a foreign country, you must show documentation that you are planning to leave that country. Well, we had heard differing opinions about this fact from fellow travelers and even a travel agent in Sydney! And, we were not sure how long we would want to stay in Bali or where we'd go afterwards. So, the Bergdahls decided to chance it w/o ticket. We had our tickets for Sydney to Brunei to Bali but that was it. We'd researched options to Kuala Lumpur and then to Bankok, thanks to Mattie's help, but hadn't booked. Affirm, Affirm. Well, that hope last until about minute 2 at the check-in counter, when the kind fellow, Aldo quite graciously informed us we'd need this onward ticket. Damn! OK, what can we do? We had figured this to be a potential snag and figured we could always book the flight on-line in the terminal somewhere, no biggie. Unfortunately, there were no printers connected to these computer kiosks and paper documentation was needed (wouldn't you think we'd be beyond paper in this day and age? I guess not). Crap.

Lucky for us, we had Super Aldo, the Royal Brunei Man of Steel on our side and equally lucky for us there were 0.0 people in line behind us. Aldo said we could book the flight to Kuala Lumpur and have the itinerary emailed to, get this, HIS personal email. He'd run upstairs to their offices, print them out and we would be good to go. I'm sure the incredulous expressions on our faces spoke volumes to our dismay and appreciation. Sure enough, after finally getting a computer, booking and seeing Aldo run off to save the day our Brunei experience would start to be molded into what it is now. As we waited, 3 other interested and cordial agents chatted with us, asked about our adventures thus far, told us about future immigration sites to explore and one of the ladies even gave Stacy info on a dive spot in Bali! We also learned that since we had a 5 hour layover, we were entitled to a complimentary 2 hour site seeing shuttle trip around Bandar, the capital of the tiny country - we'd be taken to Mosques and to a market. These people were amazing. We felt taken care of and at peace, despite the anxiety that often comes with foreign travel and airport snafus, we were fine. And then, as if he leaped the stairs in a single bound, Super Aldo appeared with white paper in hand. Yippee!! We were official. And, unfortunately, unless we wanted to sacrifice the $170US, we'd be leaving Matt and heading to Malaysia on June 12th. I guess now we have that figured out. We were checked in and Aldo escorted us though customs and to the security check point. I felt like a hug was in order, but no, a handshake would have to do. We scrambled around a bit through duty free, looked for Stacy's momentarily lost wallet and jumped in line to board and got to throw a couple more smiles at, you guessed it, Super Aldo as he checked our tickets and let us board. He's everywhere!

Those butterflies from earlier where still around despite our coddling at check in. We still were heading to a Muslim country and from the books Stacy and I just finished last night, A Thousand Splendid Suns and Infidel, respectively, we thought to pack them away rather than read them on board may be the prudent way to go. Probably a stupid worry, but we were newbies in this region and played it conservatively. The crew on board our flight from Sydney was equally impressive as that on the ground. Beverage service at every turn, ear to ear smiles, delicious food, warm towels - again, WOW! The flight was a bit rocky at times, quite actually, but we caught 2 movies, ate like sultans and had a most memorable Brunei experience thus far. We eventually landed early after 7+ hours in the air and were told about the shuttle and what we should do in the meanwhile. Everyone we spoke with was all smiles and so nice.

If you'd asked me a month ago where Brunei was located and would I want to go, I'd say the Middle East? and no! But ask me now and I know its on an isle in SE Asia and even if all I got was a flight on Royal Brunei Air and 5 hours in a\the airport, I'd be all for it!

Shuttle leaves in 30 minutes. Hope the big wheels keep on movin for us!

In Sydney, Australia and Ready to Leave

2008-05-27T21:11:00.000-07:00

Sydney is just about like every other big city. Noisy, dirty, loads of traffic, constant sirens and 5 million people. Everyone on the street looks straight ahead on a mission, not noticing who or what they strike with an elbow. Our hostel is a bit dodgy with what I like to call a "taco bed" but you get what you pay for. Sydney is a freakin' expensive city! We watched Indiana Jones for $16 a pop and the exchange rate is crap at $1.00 Aus $ to $0.96 US. We've been here about 4 days and we leave for Bali tomorrow. We are finding more and more that we are not big city people. Ya think?! I have to admit, I miss having any sort of fashion sense when I am in the big cities. I have to be creative.

Ah, with those complaints off my chest there are some wonderful things to report. The Opera House is a beautiful sight, with the famous shiny the sails glistening off the harbor waters. Tonight we see a performance there of some sort. We walked across the harbor bridge listening to Andrea Boccelli on the ipod and grabbed a beer and read the paper at a Bavarian Pub. We discovered an Acharyas Yoga studio and practiced a couple of times which was a relaxing respite in the hustle and bustle around us. One of my favorite spots is Hyde Park which has beautiful fountains, bright flowers and a giant old cathedral. It's close to our accommodation so we walk through it every day on the way to the city centre. We also went to the Art Museum and Botanical Gardens which has bats hanging from the trees. To save cash, we went to the supermarket and have been packing a lunch and eating our favorite breakfast daily on the hotel rooftop - muesli, fruit and coffee. One evening at dusk we were enjoying the rooftop views with a bottle of vino and suddenly the sky filled with thousands, yes THOUSANDS of bats! They were flying from the Botanical Gardens heading somewhere. We wondered what they were after for dinner that night. I pictured Sydney a vermin-free city because of these creatures, but we were wrong. An unbelievably overenthusiastic info center dude who ran, yes ran to get us brochures and his eyes bugged out as he spoke told us that they are fruit bats, not blood bats. There are 11,000 in the Botanical Gardens alone and fly each night to the wild fig trees to get a meal. If they don't eat each night, they die. Thank heavens they weren't after our necks!

We fly tomorrow on Royal Brunei (never heard of the airline 'til now either, wish us luck) to Brunei with a 5 hour layover before we arrive in Bali at 1:20am. Matt will be waiting for us and we'll hit the town. Apparently Indonesia never sleeps, so we'll be introduced to the island in party mode.

A New World Tour to explore!!

2008-05-23T19:27:00.000-07:00

Breathing underwater, weightless, surrounded by beautiful coral and sea life on the Great Barrier Reef is absolute magic. I am still in partial disbelief that we are actually PADI certified open water scuba divers!

The 4-day certification class was the way to go. We began on Tuesday morning, the day after Mom Drolet left us, with a pick-up from our hostel, Travellers Oasis, in Cairns with delivery to the Deep Sea Divers Den. We had fussed and wondered which program to go with the week prior. It was like being in Vegas and deciding what casino to go to - there were so many options!! DSDD was referred to us by our fabulous front desk guy at our hostel, John and after deciding to go PADI vs SSI the price was right and we were good to go!

The morning was filled with videos, instruction and quizzes. A medical check was required to make sure we could pop our ears, balance, have proper lung capacity and a general health check. All was good. The sinuses are beautifully clear these days = no pollution! The afternoon was spent in the pool applying the skills we learned in class. Nine of us total in the class, 3 from Spain, 1 Swiss and 3 Australians and our instructor Ollie from London. Per usual we were the only Americans! We were stoked to get into the pool strapped in with all our gear - we're doing it!! We were geeked up, I was asking questions, trying to soak up as much info about air density, regulators, BCDs and the lot. Day two was more of the same and strangely, it was enjoyable to be back in the classroom again. Students sleeping in class from partying too hard the night before and Team Spain who could hardly understand a word of English, which had to be tough for them, but was a little frustrating for us and Ollie! Despite being a strong-willed instructor (which was great!), Ollie was a good salesman. Once he saw us eyeing the masks he was by our side offering thoughts and assistance. Of course, I was hooked and reeled in, althewhile Stacy trying to do us right saying maybe we'll wait, check out another shop - but it didn't work. With the 10% discount and the fact we had tried the masks on in the pool here, we were pulling out the plastic to invest in our futures, why not, right?! We need a good mask and snorkel if we want to pursue this new hobby of ours. F-it!1 Why not. Stacy had her new clear/blue mask and I had my clear/black mask and snorkel! We were at least looking good!

Day three we headed out to the Norman & Saxon Reefs via Sea Quest. This boat was a catch all for snorkelers, certified divers and our class of 9 just learning to dive. By now, we had mastered the equipment set-up and by 10am had taken our first Giant Stride into the Great Barrier Reef!!! Where was my sniper rifle? I felt like a Navy Seal looking for Goldfinger! We took it slow and steady, did some basic skill tests like descending and equalizing and took a knee in the sand below the boat at about 12M. We took a swim and for the first time we were flying! At least it felt like we were gliding like you see birds do over buildings. We filled our BCDs just a touch to get a little bit of buoyancy and used our breath, inhales and exhales to control ourselves. It really was marvelous to implement the lessons we had learned! Inhale slowly to ascend a little, exhale to drop down a little toward the coral - but NEVER, hold your breathe (#1 Rule!). More of the same on dive 2, testing a few other skills. Then around 2:30pm we were transferred to the liveaboard boat, Ocean Quest where we would spend the next 24 hours getting certified and marveling at the Reef.

Our room was sweet! A corner spot on the first level, multiple windows, double bed, bathroom & TV!!! There were about 60 people on board, passengers & crew together, but it didn't feel tight at all until the load speaker beeped and announced that the dive orientation would be taking place on the sundeck, Time to dive!! Dozens of us clamoured for wetsuits and to learn about the reef we would be experiencing - Coral Gardens, Playground... One of the instructors, a Japanese guy named Masa, would draw an elevation and topographical rendering of the reef on the dry
erase board - what to see, where to go. Very cool! Unfortunately, as the Newbies on board we would not be doing any more diving until tomorrow morning, but the others, a mix of marine biologists (from the US of A), 2nd day Open water divers & other certified divers were off enjoying themselves. We were jealous, but enjoying the sunny sun deck nevertheless. Could be worse right?! I chatted with some recently certified fellas that were flying high! An American Air Force man from Barstow, a nice bloke from Dublin and another fine fellow were amped about their upcoming Night dive with the sharks and the feeding frenzy that takes place around the darkened reef. As the JV team, we got to watch - with wetsuits on our backs and our new investments strapped to our grills we were allowed to lay flat on our stomachs on the submerged dive deck and peer at the fish and reef sharks circling the water behind the boat. Team Spain laid to our right and Ollie was tossing bread right near them so the fish were like kamikazes darting all around!! Nice.

We spent the eve out on the 3rd deck marveling at the ship's band; Captain on the drum kit, Chef, Ollie and our friend from Barstow on the guitars. They were rippin' it! There were about 20 of us on the watch bouncing with their rhythm. As an encore, Jan, the #1 instructor on the boat broke out his didgeredoo for a continuous 10 minute performance that BLEW us all away!!! WOW!

KNOCK KNOCK!! Is it 5:50am already!?! Our third certification dive came at dawn the next morning, with bogies in our eyes and hopefully an awakening reef deep below. For this dive, Ollie took Stace and I out with Ben & Ben from Perth onto the dive platform and informed us we'd be doing the James Bond Entry. Wha wha!?! I didn't remember that in the videos. As you might expect, it was a full (maybe 3/4) front flip into the water. Hell yeah!! I know we're addicted now!! We swam a lot more this dive with a smattering of skills like a mask fill and neutral buoyancy practice. It was great to glide around, hovering inches above Nemo and his family's anemone, to observe poisonous fire fish around the mooring blocks & especially to learn about how to maneuver nearly 18M below the surface!!

Dive #4 was back to a normal giant stride entry, booorrringgg. Not really. The whole group of us this time were together, descending, navigating with a wrist compass and mastering our skills. This would be our last dive! We were going to be on our own if we got through this one. It was cramped out there though! Classmates all around. We were like sardines. We couldn't go down as deep as the first morning dive - you learn in class that you monitor your depth and dive time by managing your surface intervals (rest time on the boat) & Nitrogen levels. We bottomed out at 15M this time, which was great! Upon ascending and boarding the boat, I was sending High 5s all around! We've done it team!!! PADI Open Water Certifiable!!!! Yeah!

After the Captain moved the boat to a new reef location and we were educated on how to fill out our dive logs correctly, it was time for Dive #5 - our fun dive with buddy only!! We were debriefed on our depth and air limits and told about the topography of the reef. Then it was go time! We snorkeled to the front of the boat and descended there. The reef was shallow so maxing out our depth at 14.5M was no problem at all in fact we were between 7-3M most of the time. Stacy and I meandered through the coral, past the endangered Barramundi Cod, a few Nemo houses and so much more - too much to recount, really. But, as my air was at about half, I began to disobey an important rule of diving; never leave your buddy!! I felt like it was time to head back, albeit in control, but Stacy and I were missing each other. I swam ahead maybe 8M, still observing the coral, but anxious to ascend with more air than we were told to come back with (>50 bar). At the time, I felt she was lollygagging, looking at fish and taking her time. But in retrospect, after a discussion afterwards (discussion, I use loosely ;) I realized I was in error all the way. She was keeping her breathing slow and steady, while I, with an increased kick pace probably was using it up faster. We argued afterwards, she was upset I had swam ahead and I knew I blew it. I told her sorry and that for sure I'd learned my lesson for our next dive, whenever that would be (Bali!?!). Except for the last 8 minutes of the dive, it was spectacular down there!! We were on our own and more or less doing great!! It felt a little like the after effects of our bungy jump in NZ - totally invigorated!!

We begrudgingly had to transfer over to the day board to head back to Cairns. our trip was nearly over :( Our friends from class however, had one more day to go and were gettigng excited about their night dive coming up. Boohoo, sucks for us! oh well, more diving to come soon in SE Asia. We headed back in the choppy seas and got into port around 5pm Friday. We were wiped out. Its funny how much energy is burned diving, even though we were just gliding around down there. We got a ride back to our hostel and rest mode ensued. We had about 24 hrs left in Cairns before flying to Sydney and no plans!!

More on the town:
Cairns is backpacker central. Travellers Oasis is about a 10 - 15 minute walk from the city center and is a quaint, tropical and relatively quiet setting with a pool and a very friendly manager named John. The first night we arrived our hostel put on an Aussie BBQ complete with kangaroo, emu, crocodile, makarel and mystery meat sausage. The kangaroo and emu sort of tasted like beef and croc was more like chicken. It was a fun, very Oz experience but I don't need to eat them again. We chatted with other travellers over dinner and VL's (Victorian Lager) and next up the Didgeridoo Competition. By the way, beer is pricey here - about $12 - 15 for a 6 pack. My (Stacy) name was drawn with 2 others and I won by the sound of applause! I have my high school days to thank for that talent. The prize was a Traveller's Oasis t-shirt that I got in a size large for Andy. I actually had to stay on stage for a while longer and try and circular breathe and make kangaroo noises but hell I wasn't that good. That was a memorable night.

We spent our last day in Cairns enjoying the tropical breeze in the downtown area. On the Esplanade near the harbor a live Australian band was playing outdoors in commemoration of 150 years of Australian football. The three guitarists rocked out with positive vibes about how simple and beautiful life can be as we were sitting on the green grass in Northern Queensland. I stretched my arms and let the warm sun hit my chest. I couldn't help but smile.

The Great Barrier Reef

2008-05-16T01:39:00.000-07:00

Now I know why the Great Barrier Reef is listed as one of the Seven Natural Wonders of the World. The sheer size of the reef is comparable to the square km of the UK and is home to over 1,500 species of fish, 4,000 types of mollusks and 400 types of coral. Crikey!

Andy, Bonnie and I took a boat trip to the outer reef yesterday that took 90 minutes from the town of Port Douglas. It was the first rainy and overcast day since we have been here but it remains important to remember that one can't get upset over the things that cannot be controlled. I should be taking my own advice with regards to my injured knee that continues to ail me but that's a different story. The boat took us out to a permanent platform on the Agincourt Reef where we spent most of the day exploring underwater with snorkeling gear. The diversity of the fish and coral is like nothing I have ever seen! Loads of brilliant Crayola-box colored fish surrounded us amongst an undulating sea of both spikey and soft corals. We even saw a sea turtle and a carpet shark. It was wonderful to see this area of the reef so healthy and teeming with life. 72% of the world is underwater which tells me there is plenty left for us to explore in the ocean depths in our scuba gear. We begin our 4-day PADI certification course on Tuesday.

In addition to yesterday's trip to the reef, we took a day trip to Kuranda, an aborigine village in the mountains in the nearby rainforest. The smell of Nag Champa wafted through the air in the outdoor market lined with hippy-like vendors selling everything from rainforest seed jewelry to didgeridoos. We went to a Koala Center and fed kangaroos, petted a koala (Bonnie held one!) and viewed the leathery crocodiles from a distance. We picked up a few souvenirs perfectly timed so that Bonnie can take them back to San Diego with her:) The aborigine art is quite beautiful and symbolic. Otherwise we mostly have been relaxing on the beach, cooking meals and reading books. Want a delicious summer drink idea? Throw a fresh pineapple, apple juice, fresh mint and some ice into a blender and voila.

The Aussies have been incredibly friendly so far. I continue to enjoy hearing their accents and "no worries, mate" attitude about life. We are here in Palm Cove at a lull in the tourist season between school holiday and winter so it feels very uncrowded and especially laid back. The weather has been just perfect, between 70 - 80 degrees and a comfortable humidity level. A bit of rain here and there which is to be expected in the tropics.

Loading up photos slowly but surely...this wireless connection isn't the best. Stay tuned!

Palm Cove, Australia

2008-05-10T22:26:00.000-07:00

Our Northface jackets have finally retired! No, they weren't matching ones but wouldn't that have been cute. We arrived safely in Cairns (pronounced Cannes) two days ago with the tropical air and sunshine as a wonderful and expected greeting. But not as delightful as seeing Bonnie, Andy's Mom, peeking at us through the customs door on the other side. She jumped and waved and we did the same in return before we officially crossed the line into Oz and reveled in a motherly hug. It was 10:30am local time and we had been up for eight hours already - we were ready for dinner! But the day had just begun.

Our driver took us up the coast to Clifton Beach, a small town 25km north of Cairns to our bed & breakfast. Our hosts Alix & Perce greeted us warmly and we promptly changed into beach attire. YES, I have been waiting for this moment! NZ was absolutely stunning but damn I was tired of being cold and wearing the same long layers day after day. We headed out to the nearby beach for a walk and we were shocked to see the color of the Coral Sea was not the tropical blue that we expected; rather, it was kind of a Huntington Beach brown. Apparently there have been recent high winds that plowed through kicking up sand and dirt from the upstream mangroves and forests. But who the heck cares - we are in a tropical paradise! Coconut-filled palm trees and rain forest lined the opposite side of the beach as we walked a couple of miles north to Palm Cove for a healthy lunch. It was fun to talk and catch up on life with Mom.

Our B&B is tucked away adjacent to a maleluca forest teeming with life. Brightly colored butterflies, geckos, bugs, parrots and other birds habitate here. There is a constant sound of bird songs daily and crickets by night. And the best of all: we were sitting on the patio reading our books when we heard a "crunch...crunch....crunch" We looked up and a wallaby was peering at us through the trees! For those of you who forgot your animals from third grade, wallabies are a type of small kangaroo. Now, I thought, we are definitely in Australia.

The B&B is just stunning but pretty isolated. So we collectively decided to move into a place in Palm Cove instead, which is more of a resort area right next to shops and the beach. Today, we spent the late morning on the sand soaking up rays and getting settled in our new home for the next seven nights. As I write I am sitting on our patio surrounded by tropical foliage with the relaxing sounds of a variety of tropical birds and the occasional rain. Andy just got back from the supermarket with tonight's Mother's Day dinner, Mom's choice - salmon, rice and veggies.

Cairns is the gateway to the Great Barrier Reef where Andy and I will learn how to scuba dive. Our nerves are pumping but the overwhelming feeling is looking forward to getting our PADI certification which has been a dream for years. In addition, we've got a couple of day trips in mind including a boat trip out to the reef to snorkel and a visit to the Daintree National Rainforest Park which has the highest concentration of the rarest flora and fauna in the world. Sweet as.

A Quick Note from Auckland

2008-05-07T16:08:00.000-07:00

Sitting at Internet cafes is always an experience. Right now a gentleman is talking super loud on Skype, talking in a combination of English, French and some other foreign language all rolled into one. It's a gaming Internet spot, so Warcraft and other dungeons and dragons-type posters fill the walls. Some of these spots have quite a funky smell, but today we are lucky to avoid that scenario.

We are enjoying one last day in NZ in the giant city of Auckland and getting a few logistics taken care of online. This morning we indulged in cappuchinos and croissants at a French bakery and read the New Zealand Herald. It is most interesting to read international papers, as there is quite a difference in reporting style and information that is divulged than in the US. I've also enjoyed reading about what is important and newsworthy to the Kiwis. For example, over 50% of Generation Yers are keen on moving to Australia for two main reasons: more job opportunities and better weather. There is a degree of fear that this demographic will move across the Tasman Sea. Gaining resideny in NZ is based on a point system and if you are under the age of 30 it weighs heavily in your favor for instance. Hmm?!?!

Off to see the city sights and off to Cairns tomorrow...summertime here we come!

Goodbye Mazd'r, Hello Dolphins

2008-05-02T20:05:00.000-07:00

Album Link for this Post. Well, it is time to say goodbye to our home on wheels. Andy successfully sold the grey beaut to a young couple just moving to New Zealand from Australia for a little less than we bought it for, so after all was said and done we spent about $6.35 NZD per day (!). Buying a car was certainly the way to go being here for two and a half months. Our time here is drawing to a close - we leave for Oz in less than 4 days.

The new car owners were gracious enough to let us take the car for another week, so from Paul & Di's we made the 5 hour trek up north to the Bay of Islands. We drove through traffic (what in the heck is that?!) in Auckand and did a bit of reconnaissance for when we are back here in a week. This city has 25% of the country's population at 1 million people; it's packed! We hit the east coast on the way up the North Island northern peninsula to see the mighty Kaori trees - the tallest and widest in the country. Because of logging over the centuries the area once covered with these magnificent trees is now wiped down to a couple of small reserves. My knee was feeling better (finally after 2 weeks) so we took a nice walk amongst them and visited the tallest at 51 meters high and 2,000 years old named Tane Matuta. It felt wonderful to be back on my feet in nature (thankfully without a pack this time). As we often do on these drives, we stopped randomly this time at a Honey Farm and did some tasting. My favorite was the avocado honey which is created from the nectar of the avocado tree flower. It has been delicious with butter on an English muffin in the morning.

We drove through paddocks as bright green as leprechauns and vast forest boasting 300+ species of plants on our way to the Bay of Islands . This area is known for its 150 small islands surrounded by crystalline blue waters, sub-tropical weather and bottle nose dolphin sightings. In celebration of our 2 year anniversary, we took an overnight boat cruise which was was fairly unique. Loaded with about 25 guests on an old ferry-turned-cruiser named "The Rock," we began with a skeet shooting contest off the back of the boat. Andy won! With his prize of a free beer in hand, we mingled amongst the guests, half of which were from a Maori Pool Club. At sunset, we fished off the back of the boat - I caught a snapper and Andy caught a carpet shark, mackerel and a mutton fish. They were all pretty small so we had to throw them back, but it still made for a fun activity as neither of us had fished in over 10 years. It reminded us both of our Dads to do it again. After a game of Connect 4, we had a BBQ dinner and enjoyed the company of the boat crew. One of the boat owners, Sarah, gave us a wealth of information on Thailand as she lived there for about six months and was a scuba instructor as well. We have had the fortunate experience to speak with a many travellers along our way who have been to Southeast Asia, so an image of our upcoming time there is beginning to formulate in my mind.

The next morning we awoke to the unmistakable pitter-patter of the rain. Before breakfast someone yelled, "DOLPHINS!" and we scurried to the front of the boat to have a look. About 5 bottle nose were jumping in the distance as they swam towards us. As dolphins often do, they swam along with us at the front of the boat as we had a good look at the playful creatures. Next, we kayaked to Robinson island and took a small hike up the hill for a vista of the surrounding area. I could see how beautiful it really would have been on a clear day but of course this is still NZ so it was gorgeous anyway. A bunch of the folks from the Pool Club were up late partying and one guy was barfing all morning, nice. For the remainder of the morning it dumped buckets so we curled up on the couch with our coffees and read books.

It feels like the right time to leave this incredible country and move on to the next chapter though I am going to miss it terribly. It's interesting how we have created our own comfort zone here with daily rituals in how we go about things from shopping, to cooking meals, to where we keep things in the car. We are at a point of recognizing NZ stores, brands, commercials, customs and sayings. We were even mistaken for kiwis by a staff member at a DOC Wildlife Rescue a couple of weeks ago! Nightly, I continue to be amazed with just how bright and magnificent the stars are with the Southern Cross standing out like Orion does and the Milky Way stretching the length of the night shimmering sky. But we aren't meant to be in once place on this trip and get comfortable...like all things, it is ephemeral.

Today we are on our way to the Coromandel Peninsula for a last hurrah with Paul and Diane, then Auckland to catch a plane. Goodbye, NZ!

Over the River and Through the Woods

2008-04-28T19:19:00.000-07:00

Wow, it feels like ages since I have been connected online but it's only been a few days. We are now safely in Cambridge/Arapuni back at Paul and Diane's house, my Mom's wonderful friends and now lovingly coined our surrogate grandparents! They are so welcoming and warm; it sure is nice to have family in New Zealand. My left knee is fairly injured from the Queen Charlotte Tramp, unfortunately. I have been limping since the last 6km of the track. Ice and rest is all my sore joint needs really, so a good book and a flat surface is where I have spent my time recently. Being at Paul and Di's has been incredibly therapeutic, enjoying Di's delicious cooking and looking out the window as the soft breeze blows the sheer curtains and rattles the tree branches outside.

Since the tramp we have been relaxing mostly. We checked into a motel with a spa bath and ordered pizza right afterwards. That was close to heaven on Earth at the time! We did a bit of Sauvignon Blanc wine tasting in the popular and world-renown Marlborough Sounds region before we headed back on the ferry to the north island on Friday. We planned to do a bit more but Friday was Anzac Day, a national holiday of remembrance of war veterans so they were closed. Ah well.

The sea was a bit rough across the strait and the Dramamine didn't help too much but we made it safely, albeit green. We headed to Upper Hutt to meet up with Brook and Ant, our WOOFing friends daughter and soon-to-be son-in-law to stay with them for the night. We had spoken the day before about meeting up in Wellington for dinner possibly, but that we would talk the next day and confirm. We left a messages from the boat and heard nothing, so we decided to just drive over to their place 30 minutes north. Heather had drawn us quite a bum map so we headed in circles for a good hour before we finally went to a gas station and found our way with a real map. Finally we were there but crap the house is dark. No one home, so we left a note and drove back into town for some tasty Thai food. We have only been out to eat a few times really so this was a treat. Thankfully when we rang Brook and Ant they were home so we cruised over and enjoyed the warm fire, some delicious Chinese tea and good conversation. They are some of the most down to Earth folks I have met. The next morning we enjoyed playing with their darling 2 year old niece Isis, reading the paper and eating delicious blueberry crepes before we made our way. We stopped at a DOC Bird & Wildlife Refuge and saw our first live Kiwi! Now I know why the fruit is named after the bird - a kiwi butt looks just like the fruit.

Tongariro National Park was the next stop. One of the NZ Great Walks is the 8-hour Tongariro Crossing which we had planned to do, but alas my damn knee. So I sat while Andy went on a quick hike. It's frustrating, but since the pain is still there even today I KNOW I need to rest it, but what a tease with beautiful NZ all around me! At least the car rides still afford lovely views.

So it is time to say goodbye to the Mazda'r. Andy is test driving it with an interested couple at the moment - wish us luck!!! We only have about 10 days or so left in this beautiful country. It is going to be hard to say goodbye, but the warm tropical air and palm trees are calling my name...

Yesterday we booked our flight from Sydney to Bali for May 29, so we are looking forward to learning how to surf and chilling with Andy's cuz Matt Bergdahl for a couple of weeks in paradise after Oz.

Oh - and check out the bungy jumping action photos from our friend Jonah we met who just emailed us!

The Queen Charlotte Track - We Made It!

2008-04-24T17:24:00.000-07:00

Our intention was to trek 71 km in four days, but we did it in three! My left knee is quite pissed off at me about it, but it was nice to get back to creature comforts a day early. The trip was incredible.

DAY 1 - April 21 - 26.7 km - 7 hours - sunny with a high of 58 degrees
We left Picton at 9:00am aboard the Endeavor Express and saw a few blue penguins along the way. Finally. I listened to Calvin Harris on my ipod to get me pumped up for the trip as the memories of last night's comfortable bed and heat were taunting me. With just our packs on our backs with everything we thought we needed for four days, we set off on our journey from Ship's Cove at 10:15am uphill into the rainforest. Tree ferns, silver beech trees and green moss greeted us on every turn as we panted our way up to the first saddle. The views along this first part of the track were simply amazing with azure blue sea meandering along the coastline. Not a cloud in the sky and air as fresh as can be, we were smiling joyously as we played the turtle and the hare with day walkers. We chatted from time to time about all sorts of things, including the distinct details of what we want our dream house to look like one day.

We took a break for lunch with lovely views of the water, sweating yet cold from the cool air. Interestingly, at a critical distance from the sea the terrain drastically changes from lush forest to arid bush. In the afternoon, we descended into Furneaux and could hear sounds of life as someone blared Johnny Cash's "Rusty Cage." That was stuck in my head for at least the next hour, as the only sounds were the occasional running stream, the Tui birdsong, buzzing wasps in the distance, the slight breeze in my ear, the crunch of leaves underneath my feet and Andy whistling camp songs.

The beginning of my decline on Day 1 was with about 6km to go. The waist strap on my pack was digging into my hip bones all day and I could feel the tenderness of a bruise arising. After adjusting the pack lower, the weight was now transferred to my knees instead of my waist and the pressure there was mounting. I prayed for an incline as to not put any more pressure on my joints - the downhill was the worst. Camp Bay, our spot to camp for the night HAD to be getting close and delirium was setting in. Of course, around each turn all I saw was more trail. So I sang an "Ode to Camp Bay." I felt like I was in the military with the drill sergeant over my shoulder and I was about to pass out with my face splashing down in the mud. But I persevered despite the aches and pains and finally the camp was before me as a crashed to the ground. It was 5pm and getting dark. We set up the tent, cooked up some dinner and pretty much passed out by 8pm.

DAY 2 - April 22 - 23.6 km - 7 hours - cloudy/rainy with a high of 47 degrees
I must say that despite our belief in non-western medicine and self-healing, those Pharmacists got it right with Ambien! Being able to knock out for 8hrs while sleeping on the ground, awkwardly, on over-extended hip and leg bones was critical to our livelihood while making this journey. The last 4 hrs was a bit of a toss and turn, but no complaints here! As the rain started to pitter patter on our tent's rain fly and the morning had dawned, we were feeling refreshed and satisfied with our 11+ hrs of Zs. I was, however, a bit more anxious to 'Up & Out' than the Mrs was. I had visions of wetness...everywhere, soaking us and our gear thru, making a days hike feel like an eternity. I admit, I was ansy to pack up and roll - even as the rain started to subside I was pushing Stace to get going so I could pack up up the tent and get it into my backpack before more drops would find us. Well, funny thing...after we got all bundled in our cold-weather and rain clothes, hat & jacket, covered our packs with our handy REI pack covers (they have everything don't they?!) and started the uphill trek toward Black Rock Camp (6hrs said the sign), the rain stopped and the heat from our pumping hearts and lungs drenched us from within! We hit a winding road (what's a road doing here BTW?) and had to re-evaluate. Hiking is an interesting endeavor, because you really have to anticipate how you will be feeling at full tilt out on the trail, BEFORE you clothe. You may be frikken' freezing at the start, but don't you know that you will be sweating like a Aussie in the Outback in no time. We worked out the kinks, for now and wound our way up to the ridge line that jumped back and forth to where, for 10 minutes we could have incredible, yet clouded views to the north (or the back) and endless paddocks. Then spectacular vistas of the coves and shoreline that made up the Sounds (the front) which we had glimpses of throughout Day 1. The clouds were low, or were we just high? They were whisping by us as we crested a hill and ambled on down. These swales in the path continued for most of the day; steep incline followed by knee-cracking decline. Where was my wheelbarrow when I needed it?

On a trip like this we soon realized that the coveted items became the End & food. We were not yet to the end but when we came upon the Bay of Many Coves shelter, it was definitely time for lunch and a temporary escape from the elements. The peaked roofed structure overlooked the coves from the top of the ridge. We enjoyed a bit of crackers, salami, tomato and cheese with a bit of warmed instant soup. Ahhhh...it almost felt like rolling in a pit of hundred $$$ bills, you know? We moseied along after just short of an hour, both of us in our red wind/rain jackets (matching, how cute). Again, up and then harshly down the hills. Not many hikers to be seen this day. Eventually down a steep stretch of patch on the backside we passed a mtn biker spinning his legs making his way. No thanks - we decided to mtn bike this thing was too gnarly for us.

We were counting down the kms as the occasional sign post gave us an indication of our progress or lackthereof. We must close to the damn camp I was spewing. But, as it was only 3pm and the sun was warming the trail, Stacy could have cared less. She had other ideas, the main one being to continue on, past Black Rock camp and double time it to Portage, a small blip on the map about 4-7 kms past. We talked a bit about it - you know doing math actually passed the time nicely - and if we made it to the camp in Portage we would make our attempt to finish the trail in 3 days, rather than 4 much more realistic (20km to the end from Portage vs maybe 25 km from Black Rock). What it meant though was to struggle onward, sore feet, knees and now shoulders caring us the remaining bit. I was less then excited but the idea to get the trip done early suited me fine and we were quickly off. Our minds agreed we could do 4-6 km before dark, no problem. Our bodies, however, authored a different point of view. It was tough. Up til now, it'd be possibly the more difficult section of downhills we'd faced. We tentatively stepped our way out of the rain forest and onto a sealed (paved) road with signage! For the last several hours the nicely innerspersed signs had dissappeared, leaving us to wonder and hope that the next curve would be our last, or, maybe the next one...Stacy began to sing again, "Oh Portage Bay, oh how I hate you, where are you Portage Bay?". Hope to be there soon :)

The sign at the paved road indicated if we followed it down the road we would arrive in Portage in 10 minutes. Well blymy, that must of been in a car because it was the longest 20 minutes we'd ever experienced. Over the last few hours we had inspected our map/info guide some and knew a nice Resort was in Portage and visions of an icey brewski were vivid. The damn downhill continued on - felt like we were gonna be in Greenland at this rate, but there it was, in all its slendid glory...the bar, and it was open for business!! We ordered 2 tall Montheith's Lagers and took a seat ourside alone facing the water and setting sun. Ahhh. I said earlier that the end and food were our motivation, but this tasted like gold as we took a load off and enjoyed being HERE. I took a quick shower in the lobby sink, changed into a new shirt and felt like a new man. Stacy read some of the paper and soon, we were off to our camp. No, it was not a fantasy ending, no villa for the Bergdahls! The 3 day trek was not going to be tainted by a night in white sheets, hot water and a room card, no sireee.

Cowshed Bay camp was empty and we found a spot quickly, one with a picnic table too! I set the tent as was our routine and the Mrs got the cooker going and the feast boiling, sitting all the while for sure! Noodle packets, broccoli & corn made up our dinner in a bowl. We threw in some protein in the form of kidney beans the size of kidneys! They were huge! - glad to have those out of my pack I tell you. We nailed some buttered bread which I must say was the highlight for me. Butter never mmmmm'ed so good. The weka birds were around, interested in our scraps and making themselves unwelcome. Unbeknownst to them, they would be having a plethora of kidney beans soon enough!

We got cozy in the tent, graciously gave each other a shoulder rub (massage might be overstating it) and popped another of those little white treasures known as Ambien. We had sacked out, UNTIL, in the middle of the night god-awful screams robbed us of our pharmaseudical rest! We imagined it must be possums on the prowl doing their nightly thing. We heard their calls followed by shrieks of death, maybe birds they were ravaging, who knows, but it was brutal! Ear plugs por favor? The rest of the night we tossed and turned, anxious to move along the track and soak in another days work! 2 down, hopefully only one more to go!

DAY3 - April 23 - 20km (6 hours max!) - Sunny & warm (55+ degrees)

We awoke today, sore and a bit lethargic. We actually set the damn alarm last night and rose at 6AM! We knew the boat would be picking us up in Anakiwa (THE END!) at 4:30pm and sure as hell did not want to miss that. The sign read 8 hours to make the remaining 20km, but we were quite confident we could do it 5-6 based on our previous days' success (BERGDAHLS RULE!).

To expedite the packing up process, we decided to grab our daily coffee back at my shower, the Portage Bay Resort Hotel and keep the gas cooker in the pack. Sure enough those giant kidney beans had been swallowed up. I wonder after last night's blood bath if the weka AND the possum got to taste them...if you know what I mean. Based on our finish yesterday, we knew a steep paved hill was our first challenge. Boy, those trail makers loved making those morning hikes dreadfully uphill!! We hunched over with our cappuchinos and trudged up and homeward bound. We were alive and by now somewhat kink free. Up we go. The pavement arrived at the trail head and another steep hill through a canopy of native trees.

I learned on Day 2 that my best strategy for overtaking these inclines was to keep my head down keeping an eye on my steps and not looking up. This kept me focused and didn't allow me to get frustrated, looking up and seeing how far I still had to go. Again, the sweat came early and got us down to our bare clothing essentials. It looked like an amazing day today with clear skies and a warm sun. There was definitely still a chill in the air, however, which was perfect tramping weather as far as we were concerned. Our packs were considerably lighter now as well which did not hurt the cause. The roller coaster track climbed and fell, past wild goats and through private land. At one point we headed down a grassy path with quite a steep hill further up ahead. Something caught our eye to the right at about the same time we noticed someone on the hill, driving an ATV with his dog frollicking about. Upon closer inspection the specter in the tree was in fact a possum in a steel trap! Immediately, the vermin from our past looked to us like a poor innocent creature. Funny how that works, eh?! We continued up the hill as the man drove by with a toothless smile. As Stacy let him know the creature was waiting down below, I saw 2 items in his box on the back of the ATV: a hammer and a dead possum! Apparently he was working, and well aware of what was waiting down below. We're not in the OC anymore Stoto!

We continued on through a rather flat section of the trail and spotted km marker 16 sooner than we thought!! So close we could taste it! Shortly thereafter we reached our halfway point, at Mistletoe Bay. We rested a moment before trudging along. I could hear myself thinking 'We're on the home stretch!' We found a sunny spot on the side of hte trail with a view of the Bay and stopped for lunch and a rest for our knees. We were both stepping ever-so-tentatively down the hills now and quite satisfied with a momentary stop & stretch. At this point, we finally passed our first trail walkers - seemingly day hikers dressed in jeans and later, one woman smelling like she was heading out to the Ritz for a dinner date. The intrigue of this track continued as we dipped into a dense & wet Fern forest, shortly after a dry sun dried patch. I watched, or should I say waited, as Stacy stopped to touch and pick each and every species of fern she found. Walk 10 seconds, stop and gather. I was not sure if these were destined to be wallpapered in a future bathroom in a future house or what, but she was enjoying herself. By now, the knee problems were acting up, however and each stop to smell the ferms was actually a much needed therapuedic rest for hte left knee. We passed the 6km marker and from here on out our pace slowed; Stacy limped straight-legged and I shuffled down the path, both of enjoying the beautiful rain forest all around and the lapping water of the Sounds on the coastline. Stacy was hurting now and luckily enough for us the trail had flattened out down the finish and we walked along the curving coastline now, ever so close to Anakiwa, our destination. Passing the 1km marker we began to see families and happy-go-lucky day walkers enjoying the hidden beaches, smiling with a certain hop to their step. JERKS! We were down to a pace Mr. Snail would be laughing at. I was telling Stace that "There better be a Welcome Party at the end, clapping and singing to us. Maybe a lei?" I laughed at my thoughts, but as we got closer, we heard off to the left, coming somewhere over the water of hte Sound, singing. Chanting more like. We saw the boat teh sounds were originating from and sure enough, soon could make out the Welcoming music. No ukeleles or flower-laden necklaces, instead we were amused by an ancient-looking boat filled with men, chanting as they rowed in unison in the direction we were heading.

"Everywhere we go,

People wanna know,

Who we are,

Where we come from,

Where we come from..."

A fitting tribute we felt for the Bergdahls and our 71km adventure. With less than 100M to the end we relished out feat and marveled at what we had physically accomplished - oh, and also looked for the first place to sit our butts DOWN!

We ran into a fellow trekker who had just finished the trail herself, in 4 days! She called us crazy for doing it in 3. Nothing like a little more boost to our egos after all was said and done ;) We rested on some grass, swatted at sand flies that came to congratulate and waited peacefully for our 4:30 boat to take us to Picton and to our car. It felt great to have done it and to now be finished - I know Stacy would be happy if she never had t walk again! But, somewhere inside me, I felt a touch of melancholy with it being over. During, I wanted nothing more than to get to teh END and now a part of me wanted to tackle the next Trail. Funny how the mind and body fight sometimes.

We drove into Blenheim, the marlborough Wine Region home base and searched for nice accomodation (with TV!) so we could veg a few days. Turned out the horse races were going on in town and we struggled through 3 places before I said, lets just find a nice motel, babe. Stacy stared at me in disbelief!?! Luxury? She was in. We ended up at a motel in town and found ourselves booked into a 2 room suite, complete w/TV, spa bath, king bed, kitchenette, patio, BBQ, couch & dining room. I could hear the relaxation overtaking Stacy's body as I drew a bath for her and the sun set somewhere in the distance.

Aghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh...it was over!

Snow!

2008-04-18T21:21:00.000-07:00

Well, the plan was to travel during "The Perpetual Summer" but it seems we weren't quite on the money. After a very rainy and windy night in Kaikoura, we woke up to the surrounding 10,000 foot mountains doused in white down to about 1,000 feet. Kaikoura is a beach side town so it was quite an amazing sight to see the contrast between the turquoise roaring Pacific Ocean and the snow-capped mountain tops just with a turn of the head.

The rest our our time in Christchurch was enjoyable. We wouldn't have stayed as long as we had (5 days) but Dood needed the help and offered to pay us some. Plus, Heather and Dood's sister Alyce were coming into town and we wanted to catch up with them for a bit as well. We worked hard, laughed and ate wonderful meals as the place started to come together more and more each day.

From there, we headed north to Hanmer Springs, a lovely little alpine town with thermal pools. That's right where we went first - an outdoor facility with a dozen or more pools that has varying temperatures and elements in each. Ahh, just what the doctor ordered after all that hard work and no shower for a couple of days! Unfortunately it was out of commission at the Christchurch place down the stretch. Anyway, we read our books for a couple hours in the 37 degree (celcius, that is) pool which was the perfect sitting temperature. We found a cabin for the night since it was freezing (literally) but this one had no electricity which was kinda crazy but cozy nonetheless. I had a nice jump on the trampoline with a giant smile on my face - I forgot how much fun that is, even as an adult! (Remember the movie BIG?) The next morning we headed into the exotic alpine forests and enjoyed a nice walk and a good hike up a hill that afforded a 360 degree view of the valley and surrounding mountains. I am telling you, this country is unbelievably picturesque at every single turn and most times we just stumble upon these vistas. There aren't too many alpine forests in New Zealand so this was enjoyable to come across especially when I spotted some redwoods, my favorite tree.

After a nice picnic lunch (refer to Andy's meals blog entry:) in a park in town we headed north to Kaikoura. Since it was getting dark and cooler by the minute, we took a quick hike along the coastal cliff for views of what marine mammal? Yes, the fur seal. I have seen hundreds of these but no damn penguins! Ah well I will get over it. The views of the rocky coastline with bright blue turquoise ocean was a beautiful contrast against the grey clouds. Private land owners often allow tracks to traverse their property with a stairstep up an over the fence. This being the case here, rolling green hills out as far as the eye can see flanked us on the opposite side. Such Mary Poppins beauty! Our holiday park for the night had a couple hot tubs, so we enjoyed the tub warmth for the second day in a row before dinner.

Personally speaking, things are going really, really well all things considered. It feels as though a positive energy is flowing to us and from us. The clean air has done wonders for my sinuses and our health overall has been perfect really (with the exception of sandfly bites!). Andy and I are enjoying each other's company as husband and wife as well as friends and companions. We celebrate our 2-year anniversary on May 6 and are continuing to discover more about each other daily even after 7 years together. Of course it can be trying at times being together 24/7, but I always remember what my Grandma and Granddad always say - the key is communication! How cliche but so true. It's certainly been a journey of self-discovery as well but my gosh, from what had happened so far I couldn't have scripted a better experience.

Now we are in Blenheim in Marlborough Sounds - Sauvignon Blanc region. We are a bit late to taste today, so that is on the docket for tomorrow via bike if the weather holds. Now some research on the Queen Charlotte Track before we depart for the 4-day backpacking trip on Monday morning. I am both nervous and excited, as I haven't done a multi-day trip like this covering such a distance. And with the recent inclement weather...there is no doubt this will push our comfort zone but what the hell. This entire trip is pushing our comfort zone. Wish us luck!

Working in the City, Christchurch that is

2008-04-14T22:24:00.000-07:00

The beautiful spectrum of fall colors is here and the tourists are thinning out. We made our way up to Christchurch a few days ago, driving away from a quick overnight jaunt at Mount Cook. It is stunning from afar and up close with the glaciers nearby.

We had been keeping in touch with our WWOOFing friends from the KB Brown Trout in Motueka area. Heather said Dood would be at their rental place in Christchurch fixing it up to sell and could use some help so just swing by if we were up for it. It was quite strange for us to show up unannounced at a random address, but Dood greeted us with a warm smile and happily showed us around. We had a place to stay (private accommodation even) and meals if we wanted to help out for a few days, so that's just what we've been up to.

It's not exactly organic farming as WWOOFing should be, but we are happy to help our friends in need scrape, sand, paint, clean, etc. to get their rental house in selling condition. It felt like the 914 all over again! It's been nice and rewarding to work for a while and enjoy Dood's company along with a couple other hired helpers. Christchurch is quite an English town and we have made our way around on foot checking out the historic Arts Centre and even happened upon a Sunday night church choir service in the gargantuan Gothic cathedral in the main church square. This is another city like Dunedin that feels very European with the 18th and 19th century architecture.

Dood cooked us Bonnie for dinner a couple of nights, and boy, was she delicious! We even met Bonnie the cow while we were WWOOFing at their place a month ago (already, wow). Beef does have a deliciously different flavor here since the cows are grass, not grain, fed. It fresher, leaner and I even venture to say grassier in flavor. I discovered a yoga studio and we went to a wonderful Hatha class last night. Little did we know that the class comes with a free vegetarian dinner (sorry Bonnie) at a place down the street. We were bummed to have missed it, but we already had dinner waiting on the table for us. In fact, we are attending again tonight I am writing to you from an Internet cafe just down the street as classtime nears.

Yesterday we worked a full day and made some serious headway; however, the only bathroom was covered in a wet oil base paint and we were covered from head to toe in griminess. So, Dood set up a night in a motel for Andy and me and I was up until the wee hours watching the movie "The King of Scotland" on Sky TV. Yes, a satellite network that has a whopping 12 channels up from the regular three. By the way, that's a very well done movie so check it out if you haven't. Quite an upgrade to have an en suite, let me tell you!

Today we ventured out to Akaroa on the Banks Peninsula, a wee town that reminds me of Avalon, Catalina. We strolled the streets and enjoyed a warm day before the clouds rolled in like giant blankets shrowding the mountainsides. The cities on the east coast are interesting, but clearly our heart and passion lies within the mountains and the forests. Next we'll be heading up the east coast to Kaikora, Blenheim and finally back to Picton where we will venture on a multiple-day backpacking trip on the Great Charlotte Track, one of New Zealand's Great Walks covering 72km.

We extended our time here in NZ so now we depart for Cairns, Australia on May 9. Yeah!

Latest Adventures

2008-04-09T21:32:00.000-07:00

We were in the Catlins for a few days and while it boasts lovely natural beauty like McLean Falls, Porpoise Bay and lots of wildlife, it does not have any services like a supermarket or phone. We were in the Waiwaka Museum (which was more like a grandparent's attic) and asked about a phone or Internet. It was my Grandma Jane's 90th birthday celebration back home and I wanted to call in and give my best. Oh my how the older ladies there got excited and asked me a dozen questions about her! Meanwhile, Jim, an older man who lives across the street, said he had Internet with a mic/webcam. Wow, I thought, impressive in this town! He invited us over to try it out (because we HAVE to call Grandma on her special day). Pretty funny, here we were in this old man's house, but unfortunately it didn't work and we left him a few bucks anyway. Luckily, Andy and I made a short video for Grandma wishing Happy 90 and I understand from my brother Brian while the technology confused her, it quickly subsided as she began to get teary.

The best part about our experience in the Catlins was the wildlife. We camped right on the beach and woke up to the sounds of the ocean. In Porpoise Bay we saw Hector's Dolphin's, the rarest and smallest dolphins in the world. There are only ~4,000 left and they all hover around NZ's coastlines. The pod was jumping and playing in the gentle waves as we watched through binoculars. On the same coastline there is one of the world's oldest fossilized forests at 180 million years during the Jurassic Age. This is one of the places that shows proof that NZ used to be part of Gondwanaland - the ancient supercontinent made up of NZ, Australia, South America and India (if not more). As we walked along we saw another creature that turned out to be a giant Hooker's Sea Lion (another rare breed) sunning on the beach. He was rolling around in some seaweed apparently trying to get comfortable. We could get up pretty close to him, thankfully he wasn't hungry. It is so neat how uncrowded these places are - we had the whole bay to ourselves!

We continued on to a few waterfalls, the most impressive called McLean Falls. After our experience in Milford, waterfalls seem like an every day common occurance! The surrounding podocarp forest was very different than the beech forest in Fiordland but just as lovely. Another fun fact - 28 species of fern live in the Catlins area alone - amazing amounts of flora and that's just the ferns! We just kept driving along, looking at the guidebook and stop and check something out as it came along, a very leisurely and comfortable way to travel. We never know what will be around the next turn. Like when we were headed down a dirt/gravel road to see Nugget Point and suddenly a giant flock of sheep was rumbling towards us! We were dying laughing as Andy carefully maneuvered around them. I never knew that sheep actually have different looking faces.

I napped while Andy drove us up to the next big city - Dunedin. We are here now and have been already for a couple of days. It was an old European settlement with mostly Scottish influence so architectually it reminds me of a European city. We are in a cabin and enjoying the nightly warmth and the small pleasure of a TV! It's got an interesting city center that is in the shape of an octogon. There is an arts and music festival in town called "Dunedin Fringe" that is hosted by the university (the oldest in NZ). We saw a university theatre performance last night called FOLD, which blew our minds in a what the eff? kind of way. A 60 minute interpretation of the white, middle-class demographic and its values, or lack thereof. It defintely left us all in the crowd (maybe 50 of us?) smiling wryly and wondering to ourselves as we left the old French building. Fun to get out into the town scene a bit though. Our Dunedin Holiday Park is just on the edge of town, so we are close to the city life and the peninsula which is cool. I have definitely enjoyed the days we spend in the countryside more than those in the city, but a day without sheep ain't so baaaaaa-d after all. :) They are truly everywhere as you hear about.

Eating with Stacy and Andy, next on TODAY

2008-04-09T19:50:00.000-07:00

Well, as we start rolling into Days 50, 51, 52,... I thought it prudent to keep a count of how we choose to eat and make it through our days here in the southern hemisphere.

Have we been killing our own sheep for protein? Picking the forbidden fruit off the trees for sweetness? Have we had to boil our own pee to survive?? Interesting you should ask...but back on topic, here is a quick rundown of the meals we eat on a typical day:

Brekky (breakfast):

*1 bowl Muesli (rolled oats of various varietals)
-mixed with slices of bananas, apples or pears & some honey

*Coffee prepared via a plunger pitcher. (Here's the 'scoop': put the desired amount of coffee in first, then add boiling water to 2cm from top. Place the top of the pitcher which has the pulled up plunger w/screen in in on top and let the coffee/water stand for 4-5 minutes. Then slowly push down the plunger down (this gets all the grounds isolated on the bottom so you can drink pure coffee from the top) and drink. We like our with some 1/2 & 1/2 but they don't have that in NZ, so we do milk. Works nicely :)

*Juice (on occasion) - Orange, or more recently Blackcurrant & Apple - mmmmmm!

**This brekky hits the spot over and over and over! It is funny how much each morning we wake up anxious to get it going.

Lunch:

*Sammiches!!! Typical stuff as in the States, at least typical for us Birddogs:
-Whole Grain Bread slices, deli sliced turkey ($$$), ham (very prevalent here) and/or pastrami, cheese ('Tasty'(like mild cheddar) or 'Colby' typically), tomato, lettuce or avocado, mustard (they only have English mustard which is like wasabi mustard - yeowz!)

*Chips - we love us some Kettle Chips! We nail a full bag each lunch typically. (Sea Salt, or BBQ or maybe Lime & Cracked Pepper). You know how they tend to half fill those damn bags nowadays! So lame!

*Apple or pear or carrot w/hummus (we now eat the carrots like Bugs does - none of those baby carot things)

*Granola Bar (called scroggin here)

*Water from our constantly re-filled Nalgene bottles. (Rarely do we drink much else after brekky, except for a Coke w/Whisky, a local wine or cerveza...or 2!)

Dindin:

(Most of our variety comes with this meal)
*Typically a 5-7 day cycle, old days-Conlon style (inside joke) - Pasta w/venison sausages or some other meat. Lamb w/broccoli, kumera (tatoes) etc. Mac N' Cheese - the real stuff, not no packaged Kraft stuff, Andy's famous UCSD Taco Salad, maybe a burger night here or there, stir fry....whatever it is it has to be cooked in a pan or open flame!

*Cocktail Hour offers a Whiskey & Coke (Whiskey?!? Yup, whiskey!) or a brewski (Monteith's, Mac's (thanks Judy for the hint!) or maybe a Stella Artois).

*We kill a bottle of red or white wine a night as we enjoy, as often as we can a candle-lit romantic dinner.

Our sweet tooths have definitely come in since we began our travels and a shortbread cookie or two seems to finish off the palette quite well :)

Stacy has picked up where she left off in SoCal and has put together some amazing dishes. Whether she's cooked in the kitchens that are provided at most of the camps, on our little port-o-cooker burner in our camp site or on the ground on a towel (early on in the trip :) she knows what's UP! I dabble a bit and am always there to do the dishes - also like back home!!!

We have our dirty dish bucket, soap & green scrub brush for the after-dinner duties and try to brush teeth every night.

We have been enjoying the being-at-home-like routine of going grocery shopping twice a week at places like 'New World', '4 Square', 'Woolworths' and 'Fresh Choice'. We try to keep our green soft cooler stocked daily with $4.00 bags of ice to maintain freshness (a few litres of milk have had to go prematurely unfortunately). We truly are in camping mode!

Ramsay's Kitchen Nightmares is our new favorite TV show on Thursday nights if we are near a TV (more often lately with the cold weather and Stacy's shivers). The show is a British show - very entertaining and its on tonight!!!!!!

Hope you've enjoyed this week's episode of Those Traveling Fools. Tune in next week for Isn't it interesting how the meat we are cooking also smells like grass?

Top 11 Reasons We Know We're Not in the US Anymore

2008-04-09T19:36:00.000-07:00

11. The most common vehicle on the road is some sort of campervan.

10. We drink whiskey cokes for our cocktail of choice.

9. Alpine logging areas are replanted with tree seedlings.

8. Bad teeth are common and obesity is uncommon.

7. We use the bushes regularly.

6. "Star Trek Bathrooms" as I like to call them...now this needs a bit of explanation. To enter these public bathrooms, you press a silver button with a blinking green light on the outside. The silver door slides open with that Star Trek-door-sliding-open sound (you know what I'm talking about?) as a computerized voice says, "Door op-en-ing. Please en-ter. Please press the close but-ton." The door slides shut with the Star Trek sound and the light blinks red. The monotone voice continues, "You have ten min-utes be-fore the door o-pens." Then elevator music begins to play! A press of yet another button gets the TP to unroll. Then, you go through a 3-step process of yet more automation - hand soap, wash and dry. Only then will the toilet flush after you wash your hands! Door opens, music stops. Definitely more interesting than the bushes.

5. Sheep. Everywhere.

4. The toilet really does flush the other way.

3. Lichens grow on the street which signifies clean air.

2. "Save the Yellow-Eyed Penguin" campaign to raise $10,000 listed inside the wrapper of the cheddar cheese block.

And the #1 reason we know we're not in the US anymore...

1. There are more signs for hiking tracks than fast food restaurants.

Stop and Smell the Roses

2008-04-05T20:16:00.000-07:00

I never thought I would say this, but I believe we just saw the most beautiful part of New Zealand: Milford Sound in Fiordland. Every turn is a postcard image so maybe there is even more beauty ahead. But there is absolutely no question that my eyes have now witnessed such awe-inspiring natural beauty that I never could conceive possible.

It poured rain on the two hour drive to Milford Sound from Te Anau on Friday. Assumingly not the ideal weather for an overnight sailboat cruise, but we were sorely mistaken. Forceful waterfalls cascaded down the mile-high vertical glacial rock shelves on our drive through the Divide, the lowest elevation east-west highway at ~550 meters. We passed through the Homer Tunnel that barrels through the rock mountain. Mist and fog filled the air but the beauty of these sudden rain-created waterfalls remained in our sight as we imagined their complete length. Oh, how we longed to see the amazing beauty that surrounded us!

We boarded "The Wanderer" and set sail into Milford Sound at 4:30pm. The boat holds 61 passengers, but there were only 26 of us on board. This means that Andy and I got our own room - thank God - as the room was no bigger than 7' x 7' with two bunk beds sleeping four! As we set sail, the clouds began to break for the first time in three days. Mitre Peak towered above us at 1695 meters ( 5561 feet), the highest sea cliff in the world! Our eyes played tricks on us as it's difficult to conceptualize the astounding height of these cliffs with no graduation of the sides. We gazed at the powerful Stirling Falls, three times the height of Niagara and much wider than usual because of the recent rain. I struggle to find the words to describe this sublime experience. "Am I in Disneyland???" I kept asking, as it seemed unreal how perfect it was. Just go there one day, it will absolutely leave you breathless.

Kayaks were going out as an evening activity, but we elected to take a trip out on the speedboat instead. After all we just went for four hours the day before. We got up close and personal with the roaring waterfalls and learned more about the flora and fauna from Mike, one of our guides. Gulls hung out around the vertical shoreline as dusk and low tide set in, waiting for a few of the millions of tiny mussels to forget to close up for the night and have a meal. We met a couple of Germans, Ann-Marie and Pascal, and had dinner together aboard the ship. We played Jenga and Yatzee before we wound down for bed - yikes! Narrower than a twin for sure!

The starry morning was beautiful as the faint outline of the rocks and trees came into view. Fingers of fog curled over the mountainsides while we sailed out towards the Tasman Sea. The power of the waterfalls waned overnight with some ceasing completely. How blessed we were to receive such rain yesterday! As we looked back towards the fiord we could fathom how Captain James Cook, an explorer who discovered many other fiords in NZ, naturally missed it as he passed by on the sea in 1770. It looks like just a cove. It wasn't discovered until 50 years later by the notorious sealer Captain Groden who, by the way, killed over 14,000 seals for their fur and oil in the early 1800s.

A sunny day was ahead of us on Saturday as we deboarded the ship at 9:30am. There are dozens of hikes on Milford Road back to Te Anau and since the weather was fine we checked out a couple. The first was "The Chasm," an incredible sight below us of a river crashing through rocks over thousands of years to create a deep gorge. Next, we hiked the beginning of one of the NZ "great walks" called the Roteburn Track. It crept up along the rocky hillside among silver beech forest and branched off even higher to Key Summit. I thought the switchbacks would never end! As we crept higher, 360 views of the mountains and valley surrounded us. WOW. Please check out the photos - I felt like we were in a painting! We had lunch at the apex with views of Marian Lake, a glacial tarn. Being up here with only the sounds of the birds and river roaring way below, I felt at such peace inside. The warm sun was beating down on us and it was nice to be rid of our multiple layers for a short while. Nothing like trekking straight up a mountainside for an hour and a half to get the sweat going.

We planned to head back to Invercargill last night, but we were beat by the time we got back to Te Anau so we pitched our tent at a holiday park on the lakefront to enjoy the warm and sunny afternoon. I read the paper, Andy napped...ahh, a brief respit to fill up our fuel tanks.

Now we are in Invercargill. Not much here really, but we did discover Queen's Park this afternoon and ate our picnic lunch. We checked out the rose gardens, aviary and yes, even played in the playground! I suddenly wished I was small again but in my mind I was. We stopped to smell the roses. I smiled as I realized we have nothing we have to do, no where we have to go and finally I am living in the present moment, all the time.

Tonight we are headed along the south coast towards the Catlins to explore for a couple of days.

Damn Alarm Clock!

2008-04-03T15:40:00.000-07:00

Do you know what kind of turmoil the alarm clock has caused us, recently?!! Unbelievable! Just yesterday, we had an early wake up for our kayak trip on the Doubtful Sound. We had to be there at 7:30am. AM?! Can you believe that?

Ok, fine, so I got my trusty watch out to set the nasty beeping machine and finally, after 3 or 4 trial efforts to understand the thing, I got it set, I think. The last thing I was thinking about as I drifted off the sleep was, "I hope that thing works!?" Consequentially, I was up at 2am, then 4am, then again at 6. Damn! My mind was caught up in making our trip, ya know!? And, so it went, at 6:29am, the beeps flowed out and we were up - it DID work after all! And we made it no sweat. That thing had my mind blown all night!

Can you believe those things? I have to use it one more day I don't know what I'll do?! 1 day out of 43 is enough for me!

Good tidings ;)

Kayaking on the Remote Doubtful Sound

2008-04-03T15:19:00.000-07:00

Fiordland is quite an amazing place. Almost 3 million acres of remote, mostly undiscovered National Park which is the largest remaining wilderness area of NZ. This vast area is home to glaciated mountains, fiords, lakes, glaciers, beech forest and tussock grassland and the Crested Penguin, NZ Fur Seal, Takahe and Kea (the latter two are beautiful birds).

Yesterday we had the great privilege to kayak in this picturesque place. We awoke early in the dark and drove to Manapouri to jump on a boat across the lake. Along the calm 45 minute cruise we saw the most beautiful sunrise I think I have ever seen. We changed into wet suits and got onto a bus that took us another 45 minutes across gravel road to the entrance of Doubtful Sound. After a briefing session by our trusty tour guide Michelle, we got into our double kayaks. It was lightly sprinking and cold, but luckily the gear they provided for us was nice and cozy. The very first thing we saw was a NZ Fur Seal playing in the water just a couple of meters from us! The top layer of the water in the fiord is 15% seawater and gives the water an oily-like appearance which seemed to match the oily fur of the seal. He was tumbling, playing and clapping - what a gift! Fur Seals can dive up to 400 meters below the surface, pretty amazing creatures. Deep sea life flourishes in the top 40 meters of the fiord because of the dark quality of the water. These fiords were created some 12,000 years ago during the ice age by massive glaciers which makes the rocks plunge 90 degrees into the water - it is quite an incredible sight. Make sure to check out the photos that go along with this...

We had lunch on the boat then went back out for another 2 1/2 hours. The forecast called for afternoon rain and wind up to 40 knots! The worst we saw was a sprinkle and 6-7 knots. Needless to say we were pleasantly surprised. We were mesmerized by the towering rock cliffs, moss, fern and the dense rain forest of beech trees growing out of the rock sides. How is this possible? Well, the moss grows first out of cracks in the rock. Fern grows on top of the moss and trees root on this makeshift ground cover across the rock. This top heavy set up on the rock side creates massive "tree avalanches" that tumble down into the fiord every now and then. It takes 100 years to recover the empty space that the avalanche created.

We were beat by the end of the day but it was worth every moment to explore this remote area. In over 4 hours on the fiord, we only saw ONE other boat and no other kayakers. It was as if the beauty in Fiordland was created just for us.

I also wanted to share that while in Queenstown on Monday I went to a local yoga class called "Power Flow." I realize how much I missed practicing in a class environment! The instructor was very knowledgeable and gave me information about other classes and instructors to visit while in Dunedin and Christchurch. The way he was speaking he has been trained by some of the best yoga masters in Thailand and India. I am looking forward to learning and practicing more as our trip continues, as yoga is calling my name.