Are we there yet? Wait, where is "there"?

A 2-day layover in Hong Kong...

2009-07-14T16:26:00.011-04:00

Erik: It was finally time to head home. Hard to believe – after 18 months, we'd soon be sleeping in our own bed, free to take long, hot showers with great water pressure, etc. Flying back from KL, we would need to overnight in either Tokyo or Hong Kong. We opted for the latter for budget's sake, and decided to take a couple of days there to get to know the city. We did some research on hotels and came up with the Butterfly in the Tsim Sha Tsui area of HK. It was a new, very modern and comfy boutique hotel, and they were offering 3 nights for the price of 2. We had 3 nights there, so perfect!

The flight on Cathay Pacific was luxurious compared to our spartan trips on Air Asia – food, wine, in-seat movie system – nice! There's a great train system in HK, and we arrived at our hotel in about 30 minutes after clearing immigration and customs. For once, our hotel splurge was worth the price – a decent-sized, well appointed room with AC, cable TV, broadband wifi, fridge, coffee maker and even a microwave, not to speak of the large shower with steaming hot and powerful water. We never wanted to go outside!

We did make it out the next day, though, to the Museum of History, which was free on Wednesdays (and thus swarming with locals and tourists). It was very well set up, with interesting displays on HK ethnicity, culture and history. We learned about marriage rites, fishing techniques, gods, theater, etc. Most interesting, though, was the history of the city including the Opium War, from which Great Britain took control of the island, and the horrors of the Japanese occupation during WWII.

Hong Kong reminded us a bit of New York – tall, modern buildings, busy sidewalks, hot and humid, just like a NYC summer, only more so. If New York's Chinatown were to continue to expand into the financial district, then you'd end up with something very similar to HK.

The next day we got up early and took the scenic (and cheap) Star Ferry across to Hong Kong Island, where we took a 100 year old tram up to the top of “The Peak” - a very touristy lookout point, but rightly so, as the views were truly beautiful. We were lucky, as we narrowly missed the early morning rain, and the skies cleared as we headed up the peak.

The Avenue of Stars was fun as well. On the waterfront, it is modeled on Hollywood's Walk of Fame, with inlaid stars and hand prints of famous figures from Hong Kong cinema. I'm sad to say that I was only familiar with a few, but it was fun to see the stars for Bruce Lee, Jackie Chan and Chow Yun Fat.

Perhaps the one thing I'll remember most of Hong Kong, though, are the never-ending shopping malls. There must be more high-end shops per capita than any other city in the world. Getting from here to there will almost always necessitate walking through one or more of the fancy mega-malls – they're absolutely everywhere. They're huge, and they're oh-so-modern and chic. After a year and a half of living out of a backpack, though, we were hardly in consumer mode, and had no urge to shop. The AC inside was nice, though.

Finally the day arrived for us to go. Such an odd blend of excitement to see our city, our apartment, our family and friends mixed with fear of culture shock, unemployment, and generally being able to “fit in.” I'm writing this several days after arriving home, and I still feel odd and very unsure of what to do with myself. More on the travails on re-entry later though. Hopefully we'll have the gumption for one last installment of the blog discussing our feelings on being back.

Talor: My skin was shot, my knees had dropped and I had put on 10 lbs... yes, it was time to go home. After three days spent in KL, which was surprisingly quite pleasant (because we hardly went out) and productive (worked on the blog), we were ready for one last hurrah in Hong Kong...

If it was one of the the first stops on our tour of Asia, HK would have been so exciting, but given that it was our last before going home, it just wasn't all that. First of all, HK is all about consumerism... everywhere you go, there are mega-malls after mega-malls for all budgets, but especially high-end. It's also all about eating, which normally I have no problem with, but surprisingly, a lot of the eateries we went to, the menus were in Chinese. Let me clarify... there was always a Western Menu, but the more interesting stuff and cheap stuff was on a Chinese-only menu or written on the walls in Chinese. It was frustrating given that the staff couldn't tell us what the specials were. But we managed to get a taste of HK... indulged in Yum Cha (tea with dim sum) and an oyster pancake, deep-fried and yummy!

After our weather break in Perth and pleasant temps in Kuala Lumpur, we were back in the super hot and humid territory again. It was all too tempting to hole ourselves up in our way-too-comfortable room at the Butterfuly on Prat, but not wanting to waste the two short days we had, forced ourselves out to see the sights and be tourists again... hit the HK museum, the Jade Market, an old temple and the square where folks congregate and socialize under the banyan trees. But above all, I will remember HK for the amazing views of the skyline from the waterfront. Every single time we walked to the waterfront, it was like “WOW!”

Two days passed in the blink of an eye, but it was time to go home. I felt ready... sorta...

Our photos...

Hong Kong

G'days in Perth, Australia...

2009-07-02T12:42:00.023-04:00

Talor: Perth was my idea, and it seemed like a good one up until we arrived at the airport at 5:30am, and it was freezing! Took a taxi to Northbridge, a neighborhood just outside of the city center, then checked into a clean but very basic and cold room at Governor Robinson's Backpackers for AU$75 (about US$60)/night! And that was with a shared bath...yikes! I immediately thought... whose brilliant idea was this?!? After 5½ months in Southeast Asia, we were in some deep sticker AND temperature shock! And as a cruel twist of fate, we happened to choose a neighborhood with blocks and blocks of Asian eateries... HA! Ohhh, the irony... the only affordable food was the one we were tired of... and it was at about ten times the prices we were used to paying... HA HA!

So we immediately went out in search of warm clothes and cheaper housing. Hit the good will second hand stores all over town, and checked out every single backpacker lodging. Every time we needed to reach into our pocket to pay for anything, whether for coffee, food, clothes, etc., it was like OUCH! It was more expensive than New York City! It's not like we didn't try to mentally prepare for this, but it's still always a shock when reality sets in. Anyway, mission accomplished... by the end of the day, we got warm outerwear and found much more affordable housing at the North Lodge, just a short block away, which made everything seem a lot more manageable. With a sigh of relief, we went out to celebrate the fact that we were in Australia! Woo hoo! We may have celebrated a little too much...

The next morning, feeling a bit hungover, we moved into a large room on the second floor of the North Lodge. With a balcony, a kitchenette, dining table and chairs, we thought it was the best deal in town... twice the room for about half of what we paid at Gov Rob's. And it had the tiniest bath, but it was all ours, with plenty of hot water! Yay! Though we couldn't cook in our room because we had no burner, we could prepare coffee and simple meals such as sandwiches and salads. Also, there was a community kitchen downstairs we could use to cook if we wanted to. And we wanted to, not just to save money, but it's been ages since we've had kitchen access, and it was exciting. So we went shopping for food. And also treated ourselves to a space heater. Felt a little guilty whenever we turned it on, but better than being cold and miserable.

With all that done, we went out to explore the capital city of Western Australia and its surrounds, hoping the good weather (sunny and mild) would hold out. Walking around Perth is a pleasure... it's super clean, the sidewalks are in good condition, drivers don't try to run you down, and it never seems too crowded even during rush hour. The public toilets are cleaner than most private toilets we've had. It even smells good... environmentally conscious, the buses use clean gas, there are no open sewage systems or piles of rotting garbage lying around. Then it occurred to me... all these pleasantries don't come cheap, and that's what we're paying for. After that epiphany, I stopped complaining about the prices.

Perth is not a new city, but it has been built up quickly over the last decades with the mining boom. Everything looks brand spanking new, except the old stuff, which has been wonderfully restored. The city planners must've taken great care when they experienced rapid growth because there seems to be a coherence to it all. It's not in your face either. I just realized that after a few days, I had yet to point at something and say, “what were they thinking?!” Population is 1.3 million, but you wouldn't know it since everything outside the city center is spread out. The multi-cultured folks of Perth are friendly, but not in a needy way. Overall, they are very easy on the blood pressure... kinda like the city, or is it that the city is a reflection of the people? That's probably more like it. But no matter what came first, the chicken or the egg, it was all good, and I was happy we were there. On the other hand, we could've been anywhere, especially when we went out into the suburbs, which generally consists of neat rows of manicured houses with malls and car parks... sound familiar? There was nothing uniquely Australian about it, except for the accent, the way they play football, and seeing kangaroo burgers on the restaurant menus.

We considered traveling around the country a bit, but that would require lots more planning and a whole lot more time, which we didn't have. But like I said, it was all good! Felt great just to take a break from the heat, humidity and biting insects. It also felt good to see Erik putting a bit of weight back on with a more protein/less carb diet (beef, cheese, eggs, etc.).

After nine days, I would say my top three experiences were:

1. Petting kangaroos and koalas at Caversham Wildlife Park;
2. Walking through King's Park on a beautiful sunny day; and
3. Meeting Justine, a new friend. Had so much fun talking to her and listening to her life story, which is pretty interesting. Let's just say if she wrote a book, I'd buy it immediately. (Hear that Justine?)

Of course the time flew by, and despite the earlier adjustment period, I'm really glad we went! Would love to go back for an extended stay, but that will have to wait til the next time...

Erik: Perth in mid-winter. Who's idea? It's a city known for its beautiful golden beaches, but it was too cold to spend time at the coast. It's also known for its diving, but it was a bit cold for that as well. Cricket? No, that's summer as well. Before I sound too let down, though, it is a beautiful place any time of year. Just seemed that the more we read about the top things to do and see, the more we wished we had gone there at the beginning of this trip rather than the end.

And sticker shock, indeed! The place really is more expensive than New York in many ways, and two that are dear (no pun) to me: beer and coffee. A pint in an average pub is about AU$8 – about US$7!? And it's only marginally cheaper to buy it in a shop and take it home – crazy. Coffee is about AU$4 (US$3.50!) At least we could make ourselves coffee in the room, and I found some passable and relatively cheap Western Australian wine. We did need to keep our evenings in the pub to a minimum, though.

The city did remind me of a small American city except for the accent and the cars driving on the wrong side of the road. Actually, that's not entirely fair, as the streets are much cleaner than in the US, and Perth's waterfront is drop-dead beautiful, especially seen from high-up, as the view from Kings Park. We also got a great view from the top of the Wheel of Perth, a large ferris wheel like its famous cousin in London. It's formal name is the Wheel of Excellence, which I found comic in a Simpsons kind of way.

With our usual impeccable timing, we arrived the same day as a huge American aircraft carrier, and by the end of our first full day, the streets and the pubs were filled with American sailors, adding to our general geographic confusion. Luckily, having the city crawling with rambunctious, uniformed yanks didn't seem to dampen the warm, friendly welcome we got from everyone – Perthians are an open, friendly and unpretentious lot – very refreshing after all of the odd looks and money-grubbing we'd encountered throughout Indonesia.

We took a few days trips while there – one to the old colonial town of Guildford, where I greatly looked forward to having a pint in the oldest pub in Western Australia. True to what we'd seen throughout Perth, though, they'd recently remodeled the place and it was now a posh wine bar. (Aaargh!) We didn't stay long enough to even peruse the drinks list. I left feeling a bit depressed, but I did find what I was looking for around the corner in WA's 2nd oldest pub, which was a real dive full of drunken old-timers at 5pm on a weekday! Phew – stayed and had a couple there.

We also headed up the coast to see the Aquarium of Western Australis (AQWA), which was fun. It has an underwater walkway where you get inches away from sharks, rays, turtles, etc. It's really well put together and it was fun to share with Talor some of what I see when diving.

Finally, on our last evening, we took the train out to the nearby harbor town of Fremantle to see an Aussie-rules football match. It was exciting, and remarkably easy to understand, especially with all the curious locals coming up to help explain the rules to us. We finished off the evening with delicious fish-n-chips near the harbor, and finally felt that we were truly in Australia. Too bad we had to leave the next day!

Here's a link to our photos of Perth:

Perth, Australia

Buses, boats and bemos - Sulawesi

2009-06-08T06:16:00.019-04:00

Talor: After Flores, we were desperately in need of pampering so we went back to Bali (since we knew it a little already) and had a “vacation” from our travels. Checked into a lovely room at the Villa Pisang Mas, then it was all about indulging ourselves... eating, shopping and taking dips in the pool. A week later, we were ready to hit the road again, and though neither of us were crazy about Indonesia in general, we decided to give it another go. So many people have raved about it, it must be good, right? Maybe we just hadn't hit the right spot yet...

This time, we set our sights on the Togean Islands just off of Central Sulawesi, which by the way, is interestingly, mostly Christian, and the site of much sectarian violence in the past. But now it seems they've put their differences aside for the time being. It was strange to see churches and cathedrals after seeing nothing but mosques and temples.

Flew to Makassar (the Southern end of the island), which is supposed to be an cool city with great food and it's own Chinatown. We were excited because we hadn't been in a proper Chinatown since we left Malaysia, and we really missed it. Well... it was a bit disappointing... there was none of the hustle and bustle you usually associate with a Chinatown, and the food was nothing to write home about. All we saw was just another city with a hodge podge mix of old and new and way too many pushy rickshaw drivers. And we ran into a problem with the language. Very few people spoke English. Our fault really... we should have gotten a book and studied Bahasa Indonesian, but we got spoiled up til then and had only learned a few basic phrases. It was a real struggle just to find out where the bus station was.

The fun thing was that they're not used to Western tourists so Erik was a real celebrity. He got stares wherever we went with people shouting out, “Hello Mister!” and kids followed him around. While we were walking, a bus full of high school kids got out, and the teacher came over to ask if he would mind taking a few photos with them. It was really hysterical to see all the kids jostling for position to be in a photo with him. He was a star!

After a couple of days in Makassar we made our way to Rantepao in the Tana Toraja region. The Torajans have their own language, culture and architecture, and are fairly unique in the way they deal with the dead. When a person dies, they are treated as if they were still alive... family and friends visit with them and bring them meals. Only after the family has raised enough money to have a great big party, and a water buffalo is slaughtered in their honor, are they considered dead and the spirit has left... weird, huh?

Once in Rantepao, we hired a guide named Martin, to take us to a funeral ceremony, which he did. The village was located on a hill with gorgeous rice paddies, and the dramatic architecture of the houses were pretty stunning. Platforms were built under the houses to accommodate visiting family and friends. The guy who passed away must have been an important person because it was a pretty big affair with many gifts of water buffaloes, a sure sign of a person's standing in the community. Unfortunately, the day we went, there wasn't much going on, but we were told the next day there would be a water buffalo slaying. I wasn't sure if I had the stomach to watch, but thought the whole ritual was fascinating. Well, the next day, we went back, but because the man got so many gifts of water buffaloes, they were still counting and announcing them. This went on for hours. We went and presented one of the families with a gift of a carton of cigarettes (strange, but we were told that was the appropriate thing to do) and were invited to sit with them and have lunch. Martin turned out to be worst guide... spent more time text-messaging than explaining what was going on. Watching them count water buffaloes was none too exciting, especially since we couldn't understand a word being said so we were a bit disappointed, but also a bit relieved that we didn't see an animal slaughtered because I'm sure that would not have been pretty. Instead, we had Martin take us for a lovely walk through the rice paddies.

Then we were on our way to the Togeans, which three days to get to. First we took a bus from Rantepao to Tentena, spent the night, then the next morning got in a shared SUV to the town of Poso where we changed to another SUV for Ampana. We arrived in the early evening and got a room for the night, then the next morning we boarded an old-fashioned wooden ferry for the island of Kadidiri in the Togeans.

We stayed at Paradise Resort, one of only three resorts on the island. In fact that's all there is on the island... no village, no store, no roads, nothing. And nothing to do, but go diving or snorkeling. It wasn't exactly paradise... electricity just in the evenings from 6:00 to 11:00, jungle water coming out of the faucets (when there was water), and inflated prices for everything, including drinking water. But the ocean was pretty and the sunsets amazing. And the resort came with three friendly dogs, Lola, Bonbon and Zero who kept us company as we wrote our pages in the mornings. Plus we scored some really good books from their book exchange. That came in really handy since there was nothing to do. But the best part was meeting a lot of very cool people who we chatted with while dining community style. After five days, I felt it was enough. Time to move on...

Rather than go back the way we came, this time we decided to head to Manado on the northern tip, an international destination, world-renowned for great diving. Thought it would be faster and we'd have more options. You see, we had less than a month left and we didn't know where we wanted to spend that time. Figured we'd go to Manado, a modern, developed city, find a place with wifi and do some research. So we boarded a ferry bound for Gorontalo, where we would get transport to Manado. This one was a more modern affair with air-conditioning and a room with reclining seats. But because it would be a 13-hour overnight ride, we decided to share a sleeping cabin with Niels and Nicky, a really sweet Belgian couple we met at Paradise. As soon as we got on the ferry, it was a mad scramble to get one of just a handful of cabins, which actually belong to the crew. The crew regularly rent them out to passengers willing to pay $25. Not a bad deal really considering it would be split four ways. With the help of the Manager of Paradise Resort who came on board with us, we managed to score one, and though super-tight with child-size bunkbeds, it was a lot more comfortable. With that done, we went up on the deck and hung out watching the pretty sunset and chatting with other travelers, most of whom we had met on Paradise.

Not sure if I even got any sleep that night, but I must have dozed off at some point because I woke to the sound of the boat docking. We quickly got our stuff together then rushed into the madness of everyone trying to disembark at the same time... cars, motorbikes, people with cargo, etc. We pushed and shoved along with everyone else, and with Niels and Nicky, and Dan and Calista (another great couple we met on Paradise), we managed to bargain a pretty good price for a shared SUV to Manado. It really helped that Dan was fluent in Bahasa Indonesian after having spent a year teaching English on Kalimantan, the Indonesian side of Borneo. We couldn't have asked for better travel companions... everyone was considerate, played nice, and we all took turns rotating seats so no one would be stuck being uncomfortable for too long. Then a travel nightmare happened... not sure if it was the fish we ate for breakfast, but I got sick and felt seriously nauseous throughout the 10-hour ride to Manado, having to make emergency stops at the worst outhouses imaginable... UGH! Everyone being really kind, they let me ride the last few hours in the front passenger seat, but even then, it felt like it was taking forever to get there despite our driver going at break-neck speed.

Took two nights, one day to recover in Manado before heading to yet another tiny little island, called Bunaken, where Erik could dive. By now I was pretty tired of little islands, but I thought this may be his last chance for a very long time. And so we went, but this time, we looked on-line and booked a full-board stay at one of the more luxury places, Bunaken Village Resort. Though no A/C, they had a small swimming pool and electricity 24 hours... a big step up from the Paradise. Spent three days there eating well and visiting with our friends Niels and Nicky at a different resort and also making new friends as well, like Katrina and Ulrich, who gave us a lot of advice about places to go.

Back in Manado, we were still undecided as to where we would spend the rest of our time. Thought about going to the Philippines, but that would mean more islands, which I was pretty sick of. We were really close to getting a ticket back to Bali to regroup, but at the last minute, purchased tickets to KL because we figured we could get to anywhere from there.

Just then, I was reading Bill Bryson's “Down Under” (which by the way is one of the best books I read on this trip) about his travels in Australia, and I thought, “Why not?” It's somewhere I've always dreamed about, and though we'd talked about it, we'd always dismissed the idea because it was so expensive. It's also winter there now so it's cold and we had given away all of our warm clothes back in Laos when we decided not to go further north. On the other hand, this was towards the end of our trip and we had managed to save a bit so why not splurge and go for gold? And by then, I was really sick of the heat, humidity and biting insects, and the thought of winter sounded refreshing, especially since once we get home, it'll be the height of summer... more heat and humidity. Plus when will we ever get to this part of the world again? Probably not for a good long while. So I managed to convince E that it was a good idea. Problem was, when we looked at flights to Australia out of KL, it being last-minute, the only affordable flight was to Perth, the most remote city in the world! Oops! Undaunted, we decided to go anyway. Yay! With thoughts of kangies, koalas and clean bathrooms floating in my head, for the first time in a long time, I was really excited!

Erik: So instead of continuing on to exploring Flores, we made the decision to u-turn back to Bali, regroup and re-energize there. we were just tired, road-weary and wanted a little comfort. We were lucky to find a little resort on a side street in Legian that offered self-standing villas for semi-affordable prices. we managed to negotiate a decent price for a large place with a little kitchen unit, and basically chilled out for a week, getting our energy level back up and our interest in Indonesia alive again. So far we'd been disappointed with the country, finding the food incredibly boring and the overall cost of living much higher than we'd thought. We were considering the Philippines, Thailand, etc. But we'd been given advice way back in Mexico (16 months ago) that Sulawesi was a wonderful place to visit – with some of the best diving in the world and really interesting culture. It was possible to fly there directly from Bali, so off we went.

In retrospect, I think that we really must have just been burnt out on traveling – as the little things that one might find interesting were becoming annoying to us – language barriers, street touts, having to haggle and negotiate for everything...and the long, uncomfortable bus rides just held no allure anymore. So in the end, perhaps it was a mistake to head to Sulawesi, as those things are exactly what we got. Long, long days of travel, crappy, unenthusiastic guides, and boring, boring food. We really tried to like it, and perhaps we would have if we'd visited Indonesia earlier in our trip. Even the diving ended up a disappointment for me, as I'd had so many people tell me how great the diving on the Togeans and Manado was – but it really wasn't. Dynamite fishing had killed off the majority of the fish in the Togeans (I accidentally picked up an unexploded pipe bomb diving there - “gee I wonder what this could be?” - then realized my mistake, put it down very gently and paddled away as quickly as possible.) Manado diving was better, but I think I'd been spoiled by my dives on Flores, as even there I found it so-so.

The architecture in Tana Toraja was fascinating – the village houses built with huge arching roofs, and buffalo horns adorning the fronts of the VIP houses – the more horns, the bigger the VIP. I wish we'd learned more about the culture – been to a funeral on the proper celebration day and made it out to the burial caves, where coffins are suspended off cliff walls, and infant coffins dangled from trees. Our great guide managed to waste most of our time there watching people prepare for the funeral, and not much more (which was interesting on its own, but we were still left feeling disappointed...)

What I am very happy about from the Sulawesi trip is the great group of people we met there – Nicky and Niels, Marco the crazy Dutchman, Dan and Calista, Katrina and Ulrich as well as Stefano and Patricia from northern Italy, who's contact info we're very sad to have lost – we were invited to stay in their tiny village whenever we made it out to Tuscany – damn!

After the disappointments in Indonesia, I was eager to check out the Philippines, but T had her sites set on Australia. After I'd been spoiled with so many tropical islands and so much diving, it was only fair to let her call the shots on this last leg of the trip – and I can't say I was unhappy to be going to Oz – always wanted to go there – but I'd never considered Perth, and in the dead of winter? Oh well, it would be something different at least, and I'd never seen a kangaroo and knew nothing of cricket nor Aussie-rules football, so why not?

Our photos from Sulwesi:

Legian, Bali Indonesia 2

Makassar, Sulawesi Indonesia

Tana Toraja, Sulawesi Indonesia

Kadidiri, Togean Islands, Indonesia

Manado, Sulawesi, Indonesia

Diving and dragons on Flores...

2009-05-28T04:31:00.009-04:00

Talor: 30-freakin hours to get to Labuan Bajo! What the hell were we thinking??? Actually, I think it was more than that because the last ferry arrived two hours late. It was one of the most grueling journeys yet! It started off at 1:00pm in a van to the big bus at the main terminal. As we waited, a guy who seemed like he was with the bus company tried to sell us ferry tickets from Sumbawa to Flores. We declined knowing the price was much less than what he was quoting, but I guess he felt like he wanted to make money off of us somehow, so just when the bus was about to leave and we were comfortably settled into our seats, he came and demanded we pay to have our packs stored in the baggage compartment on the side of the bus, or else we'd have to keep them with us by our seats which were tight to begin with. We literally got into a shouting match with him, and I am not proud to say that at at one point, I lost my cool and threatened him with bodily harm if he touched our bags. Then, the real bus guy came by to say that the guy was crazy (which we knew) and reassure us that our bags would be fine. Argh!

The busride took us to a ferry that had several not-so-interesting live entertainers, including a bizarre one-man show where a strangely effeminate guy was, at times, literally writhing on the nasty floor as everyone looked on with expressions of amusement, puzzlement and horror. Then back on the bus, we stopped in the evening for dinner, which was truly a cheerless affair of rice and a bowl of chicken soup. Then it was back on the bus til they dropped us off at a town on the island of Sumbawa (between Lombok and Flores), where we would have to wait for a smaller bus that would be better suited to negotiate the narrow broken roads to another ferry. At 3:30am, we wondered when the smaller bus would be leaving so we asked and were told at 6:00am... crap! We had 2 ½ hours to kill in a dark and ugly bus terminal in the middle of nowhere while we were being eaten alive by mosquitoes! When the bus finally took off, I was so exhausted from lack of sleep, I actually fell asleep on the two-hour bumpy ride to the port where we would get on a ferry (the last leg) to Labuan Bajo, Flores.

Got there, sipped on coffee until the ferry ticket office opened, got our tickets and were told the ferry would leave at 8:00am so we hurriedly boarded, and found it peculiar that we were the only passengers. When we asked one of the staff, he said we wouldn't be leaving til 11:00... what?? With nothing else to do, we waited... and waited... and waited... until finally, we were moving at 10:00. I felt a sense of excitement because we were almost there! Nevermind that it would be an 8-hour ride! Not even sure how we managed to pass the time... napping, reading, napping, reading some more, and so on. When we finally saw the bay up ahead, it looked absolutely lovely!

Unfortunately, once we landed, it wasn't as lovely as it looked from the ferry. The main road was completely dug up making it hard to walk as we went from place to place looking for accommodations. And this was the first time in awhile that we saw shades of meanness... when we asked one of the pricier places if they had any rooms for cheaper rates, the guy looked at us contemptuously saying, “That's the price.” Then we looked at another place which was totally overpriced with a squat toilet, and when we kindly said we'd think about it, the guy suggested it wouldn't be available if we were to come back. Shit like that kinda turned me off. But after that long journey, we were definitely in need of comfort so we decided, the hell with our budget, let's splurge and be comfortable. Well... seems that's not as easy as it sounds. We checked into the Sunrise, which is one of the more luxury places with AC, but after negotiating, we settled in to find the bathroom had some real issues. So we moved to another room that was not as nice, but we were too tired to move so we settled in for the night, got ourselves cleaned of the skank and went for a meal.

The next day, with a bit more energy, we walked around and found Laguan Bajo to be one of the dustiest, ugliest places we've ever been in. But we decided to treat ourselves by moving to the Green Hill Inn... it turned out to be a big mistake. The room looked nice enough, but once we settled in, we discovered it's shortcomings... the bed sunk so badly, we couldn't get comfortable, the bathroom was full of mosquitoes, and the doorknob was broken. The band-aid gluing the lightswitch to the wall should have tipped us off. But oh my! Once we got a look out on the views of the bay, it was a beauty! It was up on on a hill with panoramic views of amazing sunsets. And in the end, that's what we were paying for. It wasn't for the constant hassle of them turning the water off, or the measly serving of coffee and breakfast in the morning, it was the views... absolutely gorgeous!

Anyway, the other drawback about Labuan Bajo is that tourism is just taking off and there is no infrastructure. In order to do anything or go anywhere, you really need to rely on the locals, but the locals were in the mindset of “get as much as you can” so we were getting super-inflated prices for anything and everything. And nobody would say what all the options were, they just told you what they wanted to sell. Needless to say, this really put us off.

But we decided we had made it that far, we were going to see komodo dragons, at the very least damn it! We negotiated hard and booked a half day boat trip to the island of Rinca, a two-hour ride away. Though the scenery was lovely, we were sucking in petrol fumes the whole way as the boat loudly chugged along the water. But as a bonus, we spotted dolphins! That alone was worthy, but then we got to Rinca, and after paying the park fee, the conservation fee, and every other fee they could think of, we began our tour and lo and behold! Just a few minutes into it, there they were... the most crazy looking, prehistoric, amazing creatures I have ever seen, hanging out right by the park kitchen! Wow! I'm talking WOW!

Anyhoo... after that we were so ready to blow that dusty town, but when we went around asking about transport to the next town, we got crazy inflated prices, at which point, we decided, it's not worth it. The prospect of having to deal with this every time we wanted to move round the island on the rough roads in broken down buses just didn't appeal to me anymore. What would have seemed like an exciting challenge in the beginning of our trip was now becoming more of a chore than anything else. Truth is, we were travel-weary and ready for a “vacation” from our travels. So we booked a flight back to Bali for a little R&R and to buy time to figure out our next move.

Erik: Yes, T's right about so much – the trip getting to Flores was grueling. 30 hours on tiny, winding roads during which the bus was weaving and bumping and heaving – impossible to sleep. When we arrived at the final, 8-hour ferry to Flores island, I saw the cushy banquettes inside and was sure i'd sleep for a good few hours, but they put the tv's on full volume to music-video and children channels, so there was no chance of dosing off unless you had a packet of morphine stashed away.

Labuan Bajo is, indeed, one of the nattiest, ugly cities we'd been in. What T didn't have the chance to benefit from, though, was the absolutely amazing diving there. I'd never seen so much marine life in my life – i couldn't figure out what to look at – there was just too much – sharks, lionfish, turtles, scorpionfish, so many things i'd never seen before. I was dumbfounded. The currents are wicked-strong, if any of you happen to go, so be forewarned and be careful – i and two diving buddies were nearly swept out to the open sea on one dive (never been so scared on a dive in my life!), but the next dive, we were graced to see 10 manta rays doing a mating dance, after which they swam (flew?) past us in formation, only a few feet away. My diving buddy captured this on video. Check this out:

So, labuan bajo is a horribly ugly, unaccommodating place, but if you dive, i'd totally suggest you go there nonetheless – the best diving i've done anywhere.

I'd have stayed a few more days to dive a bit more, but t had nothing to do ashore, so we decided to head back to bali (the only place you can fly to from the town), and relax and have a little r&r.

More photos...

Labuan Bajo, Flores Indonesia

Friends and parties on Lombok...

2009-05-15T04:02:00.011-04:00

Erik: From legian, bali, talor negotiated us a great deal on a speedboat out to the gili islands (off of the island of lombok, near bali.) $40 instead of the usual $60-$70 the boat should cost. T's become the best price negotiator during the course of the trip. We were on the tiny tropical islands within a few hours of leaving, but the boat left us on the super-touristy island of gili trawangan. there we found that everyone was after the all-mighty tourist dollar, and all the tourists looking to do drugs and party all night. Kappy and I had booked a dive for the next morning, but we soon canceled it, wanting to move on to the smaller island of gili air, where we hoped we'd be less a walking money-bag and actually meet some nice, local indonesian island folk.

What difference a short boat ride makes! Gili Air was totally chill, though just lively enough to keep us entertained. We found a wonderful little italian-run set of bungalows, Biba Beach Chalets, which were beautifully done up – very luxurious, except for the on-and-off electricity and the salty tap water which the entire island suffers from. We made several local friends in bars and restaurants around the island. Kappy even was serenaded by a couple of singing bartenders at the tiny Corner Bar where we had a send off “party” for her. (The party consisted of the 3 of us, a guitar player and our singing bartender, Sonny G, but we had a great time.)

Kappy and I had a few days of good diving before it was time for her to move on. She wanted to fly west to Java to see the Borobudor ruins, while we had our sites set east, towards the island of Flores. In the oddest bit of timing, Kappy left 3 hours before the arrival of another friend of ours, Rumana, who'd worked with Talor in NYC. We don't have anyone come travel with us for 15 months, and then we get back-to-back visitors, separated by only a few hours! Wish they could of overlapped a couple of days so we'd be more of a gang to contend with, though I might have gone crazy with all the “girl talk” (just joking, ladies.) Our musical bar tending friends were very surprised when we showed up again the very next night, but with a new friend this time – ready for a “welcome Rumana” party to follow up on Kappy's farewell.

Rumana seemed to love Gili Air, and she decided to learn to dive there, so we ended up staying much longer than we'd planned – 10 days in all. Not that i was complaining at all. During that time I got to know the dive staff at Manta Dive quite well, and I very nearly stayed for another month to do my dive master training. Up until the morning we left, I was still unsure if i'd be staying or not, but in the end i decided it was best to continue our travels and leave my DMT for a later date.

We had a great time with Rumana, though after gili air, she wanted to head back to bali to check out ubud, etc., and we still had our sites set west, so we said our goodbyes one morning after 5 days together, and got on the small wooden ferries heading in opposite directions. Still, we felt very lucky to have had friends come visit us from so far away. We were also a little eager as well to get back to our travels.

The gili islands lie offshore of the much, much bigger Lombok Island, which is where we headed next. After the ferry we got a taxi to the beach town of Sengiggi, which was supposed to be beautiful and laid back. What we found was one main touristy strip where we were constantly hounded by touts wanting to help us find hotels, scooters, tourist trinkets, etc. We couldn't walk more than 10 steps without being approached by someone wanting to sell us something. It was so bad that we decided to leave the next morning. And not just leave Sengiggi – we left Lombok all together, getting a combined series of buses and ferries all the way across lombok, across the next island of sumbawa and on to flores. 30 hours non-stop travel. Woo-hoo!

Talor: Gili Air is a nice little island with a friendly chill vibe. Like Gili T, all the locals wanted to sell you something (everyone's gotta make a living), but they were also happy just to get to know you. And like Gili T, everything was overpriced (for the tourists, which is their main industry), but they were a lot nicer about it and were willing to negotiate.

But what made our time there special was the company we had. It was great hanging out with Kappy then having Rumana join us... so the parties continued, including a super-fun one Saturday night at the Blue Bar where we got totally trashed and kicked up our heels in the sand. Then, in a state of euphoria (or stupidity), Erik decided to go in the water, and I followed suit. Within minutes, tragedy occurred... I lost my ring! I felt it slipping off my finger and two seconds too late, I was frantically searching, but all I saw was pitch black... aghhhh! The next morning, Erik went searching, but to no avail. Felt like I lost a friend, and shed a few tears, until Alice (the ever-wise Dive Master) posed her theory that the ring left because it felt it had done its job making me happy and it was time to move on to give to someone else... not sure if I was completely convinced, but it did make me feel better or maybe the hangover wore off... hmmm.

While everyone went diving, I spent the days walking around, exploring the island's many sandy paths into the interior and chatting with the locals. I was really surprised at how well everyone spoke English. Had nice conversations with Arsa, a horse-cart driver who also worked as a tour guide. Talked a lot to Roling, who dreamed of going to Korea one day for a better life. He spoke better Korean than me! Then there was also the teacher at the public school and his students eager to practice their English. And getting my hair cut, the hairdresser happily talked about her family. It was really nice being able to chat with the locals and learning about their lives. But outside of that, there wasn't much to do since I couldn't go into the water...

I have an allergic reaction to sea lice. For most people, their stings are just an annoyance. For me, I break out in a rash that bubbles into tiny little blisters, and it itches like crazy for about two weeks. Usually Erik will go in the water first and let me know if he feels them, and if so, I won't go in. Unfortunately, that has been the case through most of SE Asia. Not being much of an aquatic person, I've always preferred beaching more anyway, but I still enjoyed looking out into the lovely blue waters.

But after 10 days, I was ready to move on. I was really missing stuff like reliable electricity (the island was having power issues so it would go out for hours), good food (there wasn't much of a variety on the island so we ate a lot of fried rice, which is Indonesia's national dish), fast internet (there were two internet cafes using dial-up which cost a fortune), and a fresh water shower (never actually feel clean after bathing in salt water). So we decided to go check out Senggigi on the main island of Lombok to enjoy some of these luxuries.

Unfortunately, we never stayed long enough to find out... the super-aggressive touts annoyed us so much, literally following us around at times, that we decided to get outta Dodge! The very same day, we booked a 30-hour journey (that's how desperate we were to leave) to the island of Flores... OY!

For more photos...

Gilis, Lombok Indonesia

Senggigi, Lombok Indonesia

A date with a friend in Bali...

2009-05-07T09:04:00.018-04:00

Talor: With much anticipation, we boarded a plane for Bali... after 7 weeks in Malaysia, we were excited about going to a different country, and for the first time on our trip, a friend was coming out to travel with us... woo hoo!

But somehow, I didn't get Bali, and why it's so popular. For one thing, it is overpriced... we were surprised to find everything more expensive than Malaysia, and less value for the money spent. For another, it is incredibly touristy... we saw just as many western tourists as locals, and the only locals being friendly were those trying to sell us something. And authentic Indonesian food was hard to find... there was a lot more Western food available than local food. Plus the beaches were nice, but crowded and we'd seen nicer. But, we decided to be tourists and just enjoy ourselves, and soon none of the above mattered.

Once Kappy arrived, we spent two days in Legian, two days in Ubud and two days in Amed, moving more rapidly than I would have liked, but we had a lot of ground to cover over a short period of time because Kappy only had 2½ weeks. It was a bit of an adjustment getting used to traveling with another person, but it was soooo nice to have someone else to talk to! And all things considered, Kappy turned out to be a great travel companion... adventurous, flexible and considerate. And, she can take the spice... perfect!

The two days in Legian were spent lazily... going to the beach, indulging in the Western foods (pizza, burgers, salads, etc.) we had been missing, and checking out touristy merchandise for sale, while Kappy got through the jetlag (a lot better than we did in Bangkok, which took us like a week!).

Kappy came prepared with an international drivers license so we rented a car to explore the east coast. About five minutes into the drive, we were pulled over for a traffic violation (running a red light), which was a total scam by the police, but after paying a light fine on the spot, we were on the road again. Another ten minutes later, we got a flat. Erik tried to fix it with the help of a very kind local, but found the tools were inadequate so we had to drive the car with a flat to an auto repair shop some five or so kilometers away, which ended up totally shredding the tire. Got the tire replaced, then wondered... should we continue? No spare, inadequate tools... what will happen if we get another flat??? After much deliberation, we decided onwards and upwards. Spent the next several harrowing hours in the car as Kappy got used to driving on the left side of the road, on somewhat paved roads that are way too narrow for two-way traffic, and then, it started to rain... hard!... d'oh! But made it... whew!

Spent the next couple days in the touristy, but artsy Ubud, exploring the many side streets, visiting the Sacred Monkey Park, chowing down on roast pork, and taking in a traditional show (pics of the show didn't come out, but Erik took this short video clip ).

Then we moved onto Amed, and by then, Kappy was driving like a pro! We were hoping for something a bit less touristy, but got there to find, it was in fact, over-developed and not as off-the-beaten track as we thought... o well. Kappy and Erik took a day to go diving, while I explored the one road in town and discovered there was absolutely nothing more to the town but resorts and restaurants. Ok, maybe it's time to explore another island...

Headed back to Legian to return the car, spend the night, then find transport to Senggigi and the Gilis off the island of Lombok, which would be much more remote, and hopefully, a lot less touristy...

Erik: It was exciting to be actually meeting up and traveling with someone else for a while. I was a little worried that T and I might be so set in our travel ways – like some cantankerous old married couple – that we wouldn't be able to adapt to any other way of doing things. I hope that wasn't the case – we had loads of fun, and hope Kappy did too. It was great to have an excuse to relax, forget the budget for a while, and just be tourists. Eating all the stuff we'd deprived ourselves of for so long (pizza, burgers, beer – OK, maybe I hadn't been depriving myself of beer!) We actually found a pizzeria in legian with NYC-worthy thin crust pizza, as well as the cheapest Bintang Beer in town – I was in heaven...

Kappy had been to Bali before, and so she was filled with great advice and ideas, such as the famous pork restaurant in Ubud (Bourdain's favorite), and the diving off Amed, which was great. It was nice to travel with a dive buddy as well. (I still haven't managed to tempt talor underwater...) The wreck dive there is definitely worth one's time.

The traffic ticket was annoying (it was a total scam), but not nearly so much as the flat tire. Ever try changing a tire with a faulty jack and a stripped lugwrench? In 98 degree heat and 100% humidity? I was drenched through with sweat after just a few minutes, and then laying on the ground under the car trying to get the jack to work – I succeeded in thoroughly covering my sweaty shirt and skin with a lovely layer of dust and grime. And to no avail. We ended up thrashing the tire to all hell driving the car to the service station (a small wooden booth by the side of the road where the guy did nothing but change tires for $4). I was nervous when we returned the car, thinking they'd try to charge us for a replacement, but they were rightly ashamed of having given us faulty equipment to begin with – phew.

After Ubud, Kappy wanted to visit a famous hindu temple on bali – Besakih (it is one of the oldest and largest Hindu temples in Bali) which was a nice, if a rainy experience. I was told that i'd need to wear a sarong to enter the temple, which may have been a scheme by kappy and talor to get me to wear a sarong (I found out later that I could've entered with long pants.) We were there just after one of their major festivals, and so got to see offerings left by the villagers, including a huge sculpture made entirely of flowers and another – about 20 feet high made entirely of pork. yes, pork. Meat, fat, tendon, it was all in there. It was disgusting and fascinating at the same the time.

Perhaps the best part of this day was our drive from the temple to amed, through the rain, when we got lost and traveled through some of the loveliest tiered rice paddies imaginable. (Oh, yeah, we also had to make several u-turns along the way, and what should have been a 2 hour drive turned into about 8 hours – kappy was very patient with my faulty navigation.)

After a week of bali's super-tourism, though, we were ready to escape to the much smaller gili islands off of lombok...

Our photos from Bali (albums for Legain, Ubud and Amed):

Legian, Bali Indonesia

Ubud, Bali Indonesia

Amed, Bali Indonesia

Sarawak, Malaysian Borneo

2009-04-30T02:53:00.005-04:00

Talor: By the time we were feeling better, we were needing to move quickly and cover some ground since we only had about a week before making our flight to Bali to meet Kappy. So we set our sights on Sibu, a city on the Western side of Malaysian Borneo. There we hoped to make a trip upriver to visit longhouses. But to get there wasn't going to be easy... we took a 2-hour bus ride west to a town called Seria then changed buses for another half-hour ride to Kuala Belait. From there, we boarded a bus for a 10-minute ride to a boat for a 5-minute ride across the river. On the other side, there was a bus waiting for us, which took us to the border. After formalities on both sides, we got on yet another bus for a 1 ½ hour ride to the town of Miri. We were finally in Sarawak, but rather than stop there, we decided to go for the record... killed a few hours then boarded a night bus for a 10-hour ride to Sibu. We finally made it, but we were a mess!

The bus pulled into Sibu a couple hours early (imagine that!), and we were dropped off at the bus-terminal at 5:00 in the morning. Bleary-eyed, we got a cab to the Hoover Lodging House, checked into a tiny windowless room and immediately passed out for several hours. Upon waking, we moved to a larger room with a window then went downstairs to the corner coffee shop and realized we were smack dab in the middle of Chinatown... aaaah! Our favorite part of town! Spent the next couple of days finding out the boat schedules for the trip upriver and just checking out the town. Visited an impressive 7-tired Chinese temple where we were given the keys to climb up to the top for great views of the city. Went to a night market and gorged ourselves on street food then took in a free concert in the park. We also found, just down the street, a hawker stall with the best plate of keow tuoh (broad rice noodles) ever... spicy, smoky and a little bit sweet, served with roast pork and a fried egg... we couldn't get enough of it!

Then it was time to try our luck upriver... we decided against going with a tour because we wanted something a bit more authentic than a packaged tour so we took a speedboat to the town of Kapit on the Betang Rejang (river) and started asking around. A woman at a hotel suggested we go to the market and there, once again, we asked people about visiting a longhouse. Unfortunately, most didn't speak English. We were beginning to feel dejected and wondering if it was a mistake coming without a guide when I saw Akau, a man with a kind face. So I decided to try one more time and hit gold! His English wasn't very good so we weren't quite sure what we were getting ourselves into, but decided to trust our instincts and take a chance. Turned out to be one of the most memorable days of our entire trip...

We got into his boat and took a short ride to a longhouse, where we were welcomed in and immediately served refreshments. A longhouse is just that... a long house... with a row of individual apartments for each family and a shared veranda out front that runs the length of the house. That is where all the socializing happens. Whole communities live in these longhouses with a leader, elected by the people, who oversees things and settles disputes. Despite the individual apartments, most things are shared by the community, including labor, creating a harmonious environment. We were invited to lunch and then to an “end-of-mourning” party at another longhouse later in the day.

After lunch, Akau took us to the other longhouse where the party would be (and where we would spend the night), and along the way, we stopped to take in cockfights. I was both repulsed and fascinated by this ancient past-time that has been going on for centuries. Later we found out that in their animist beliefs, the people held the cockfights in order to appease the war gods who would then allow for a peaceful party later on. Afterwards, we were led to a river to cool off and bathe where we were greeted by kids shouting, “Hello!” Then it was a steep climb up to the longhouse, where once again, we were welcomed in, no questions asked, and immediately served rice wine and snacks.

Soon the men were back from the cockfights, the loser cocks were cleaned and put on a bbq, and the party got underway... for the next 24-hours! The Iban tribe we were visiting have a tradition of mourning a death for a year, then they throw an end-of-mourning party attended by all the longhouses in the neighborhood. For 24 hours, people eat, drink and celebrate while drums are beating and mourning songs are sung. We never experienced hospitality like that before... though we were strangers, we were welcomed in and treated like family. We were invited from group to group to share their food, drinks and anything else they had. After several hours, we couldn't eat or drink anymore, but couldn't say no, which would have been an insult. By 10:00, we were simply exhausted! According to tradition, no one is supposed to go to sleep, but they took pity on us, and cleared some space on the floor of the leader's house where we eventually passed out. At 5:00 in the morning, Akau woke us for yet another round of food and drinks before taking us back to Kapit where we boarded a speedboat back to Sibu, arriving yet again, absolutely exhausted. But this time, we were happy-exhausted and couldn't stop thinking about, and talking about, our experience. It was truly amazing!

We checked back into the Hoover Lodging House where the kind old men who run the place saved us the same room #104 with a window. The AC and warm shower felt like heaven! Spent the day resting and recovering, then got ready to move on. The next morning, we boarded another speedboat for a 4 ½ hour ride to Kuching, the capital of Sarawak. Settled into a comfortable room at the Kuching Waterfront Lodge in Chinatown, then spent the next three days walking around the city sightseeing.

Couldn't believe we had been in Malaysia for seven weeks! Though I bitched and moaned a lot during that time about crappy lodging and unwalkable sidewalks, I felt sad to leave. I'm really gonna miss the hustling bustling chinatowns, the wonderfully flavorful food, and especially, the friendly smiling faces... sigh.

Erik: Yes, the Iban longhouse party was definitely one of the highlights of the trip. I've never met people so welcoming and generous. We felt almost a part of the community, and smiling faces kept pulling us from one door of the longhouse to the next, to share in each family's celebration, food and drink...and drink...and drink. It's impolite, bordering on offensive, to refuse an offer of food or drink, and I being a man, was constantly being offered the latter – palm wine and the much more potent, black arak – a bitter/sweet liquor many times more potent than the palm wine. It seemed that every few minutes a new glass of each was shoved in my hands, and I soon became adept at kindly accepting it, then misplacing my glass – otherwise I'd have been done for before night fall. As it was, with a great deal of polite restraint, I only managed to remain conscious until 10pm or so, and I can only remember the last few hours of the evening with the aid of T's many photos. The worst part was that when Akau woke us at 5am, there were all my friends huddled around a huge Johnnie Walker bottle, having been up drinking the entire night, and they were now eagerly awaiting me to continue the party! I've never quite experienced anything like that one day upriver in the Iban longhouse. I just wish that I remembered more of it!

Photos of Sarawak:

Sibu, Borneo Malaysia

Kapit, Borneo Malaysia

Kuching, Sarawak, Malaysia

Brunei Darussalam, Borneo

2009-04-25T02:47:00.002-04:00

Erik: Brunei separates Sabah from Sarawak, the other district of Malaysian Borneo. It is one of the world's smallest countries, and is quite wealthy due to its off-shore oil reserves, though the oil is projected to run out in the next 10-20 years, so it will be interesting to see what happens to the country then. As it is, the Sultan of Brunei is incredibly wealthy. He owns 250 luxury cars, and his palace has 1100 rooms and nearly as many bathrooms! He is generous with the wealth, and distributes it in positive ways among his people – subsidizing housing purchases, free education and health care, etc. The capital city of Bandar Seri Begawan boasts enormous, majestic, gold-laden mosques, and big shopping malls, though it also has an enormous water village where 32,000 people live on less opulent houses built on stilts over the river, complete with their own water-schools, fire and police departments.

Again we'd planned to stay only a few days stay in Brunei, and again were detained against our will. This time I caught T's strange cold with its piercing headaches, and we both suffered from bronchitis/sinusitis. We visited a local doctor, and paid a total of about $40 for the two consultations complete with antibiotics and other medicines he prescribed (and issued) us. Not bad, but still feeling poorly, we decided to stay in the very expensive city several days to nurse ourselves back to health.

The highlight of BSB for me was our boat trip out to see the proboscis monkeys. We met a very nice water taxi man who took us on a river tour of the city and royal palace. He was a great, energetic guide, and when he told us that we could see the monkeys from the river early the next morning, we quickly agreed. At dawn the next day, we headed out and were not disappointed – the river was gorgeous at sunrise, and we saw dozens of the simians with huge, dangling noses – mostly we saw them from the back as they swung away through the tree branches, but several sat and stared at us from a distance. Our guide was almost overly enthusiastic in pointing them out - “look! look! there another monkey! honk, honk” (his strange, nasal call to the monkeys.)

Talor: Once again, I was expecting to see wealth and opulence, but it seemed just an extension of Malaysia, except cleaner. I guess just the name of the capital city alone, Bandar Seri Begawan, made me envision something much more exotic. Instead, all the people looked the same, spoke the same language and the food was identical, just more expensive. After spending a night at the only budget accommodation in town, which was none too pleasant, we checked into the mid-range Brunei Hotel and paid a whopping $57/night (the most we'd ever spent on our trip for accommodations). But it was worth it. Clean and comfortable and with a big screen TV, we took the time we needed to get well enough to hit the road again...

Our photos of Brunei:

Bandar Seri Begawan, Brunei Darussalem

Sabah, Malaysian Borneo

2009-04-16T02:32:00.008-04:00

Erik: I had such high hopes and excitement about Borneo: unique wildlife, some of the world's largest caves, mysterious tribes living deep in the rain forest. Before leaving on our trip, I would cite Patagonia and Borneo as examples of the far-flung, magical-sounding places we hoped to visit. Patagonia never happened because our first time in south america it was winter, and the 2^nd time our passage there was blocked by an erupting volcano. Borneo was very nearly a bust because of bad luck and bad time management.

For only the 3^rd time in 16 months, we had a set time frame in which to visit the world's 3^rd largest island – 3 weeks. This was because we'd purchased onward tickets to Bali to meet up with my friend Kappy who was coming to vacation there and share our journey for a while – the first time we would have a friend come travel with us, and we were excited about it. By the time we'd got all of our passports, visas and doctor visits sorted out in KL, we had 3 weeks left before flying to Bali, so we planned accordingly, not trying to cram too much into that time, but hoping to see as much as possible.

Our first stop was Sandakan in the Sabah district of Malaysian Borneo. “Sandakan” - it sounds mysterious and magical, like a town out of the Arabian Nights. We'd read that at one time Sandakan boasted the largest percentage of millionaires per capita in the entire world, so we expected some lavish, lush city of beauty and mystique. What we found was a small-sized concrete city full of broken sidewalks and dirty vendor stalls. There was absolutely no beauty to the city at all – everything was ugly, dirty and dilapidated. Even the port was full of old, rusting navy ships and not much more.

It didn't matter, though. We'd come to Sandakan for two things: orang utangs and river safaries. We did succeed in visiting the orang utang rescue center just outside town, which was wonderful to see, though very short and very touristy. Sandakan is also the jumping off point for river trips into the rain forest to spot the unique Bornean wildlife, such as pygmy elephants, crocodiles, orang utangs, etc. Upon arrival, we checked into the Mayfair Hotel, a small guesthouse run by the surly, but lovable, Mr. Lum. The rooms weren't luxurious, but large enough and they each boasted a flat-screen tv and dvd player, and full access to Mr. Lum's huge dvd movie collection – which proved quite useful in the days to come.

We called Uncle Tan's river lodge to organize a few days upriver, but they were full for the next few days. We really didn't want to stay in the ugly, boring city any longer, but finally decided that the river safari was worth a few day's wait, and so reserved for 2 days later.

The next day Talor fell ill, with piercing headaches, fever and congestion. We waited a day, but she only got worse, and so had to cancel our reservation. I was more worried about Talor than any stupid midget elephants, but she assured me that it was just a bad cold, so we got her some medicine from the pharmacy and waited. After a few days, she was feeling better and thought she could deal with the rustic trip upriver, so we called Uncle Tan's, but they were full again. Aaargh! After a week in the awful, broken, polluted, concrete city, we decided to skip the safari and move on.

We were now several days behind schedule, so we took a long, all-day bus to Sabah's capital city, Kota Kinabalu. “KK”, as it's referred to was a bit prettier than Sandakan, but only marginally so. It was also terribly expensive. After much searching, we found a tiny, almost-affordable room. The next day we hopped on a boat out to some islands just off shore that were supposedly beautiful and tranquil. Again our timing was off, though. It was the weekend, and the islands were swarming with hoards of local tourists. The snorkeling was crap, the beaches crowded and the food mediocre and terribly expensive. Oh well. We'd used up nearly ½ of our 3 weeks at this point, so we moved on the next day to Brunei Darussalam.

Talor: Aaaah... Sandakan... only 3 things worth mentioning...

It was one of the ugliest cities I'd ever been in. Instead of opulence, which I had envisioned, there were rundown concrete block buildings competing for the “worst slum in the world” award.
Mr. Lum (who Erik already mentioned), pushing 70 according to him, but I was convinced he was taking some magic pills since he only looked 40... 50 tops!
The illness, which came at the worst possible time, but when is it ever a good time to be sick? It is worth noting that, under the circumstances, I couldn'tve asked for a better “nurse.” E took the best care of me... getting me food and making sure I took my meds on time... sitting in the heat of the room when I had the chills, and pumping up the AC when I was burning up... anything and everything I needed to make me feel as comfortable as possible! In my mind, there is no better travel partner... EVER!!

Two nights, one day in Kota Kinabalu was enough. Famous for their sunsets, they didn't tell us the view would be blocked by corrugated metal walls. But at least we found the Filipino Night Market where we got freshly grilled fish and squid for a song.

Photos of Sandakan and KK:

Sandakan, Malaysian Borneo

Kota Kinabalu, Malaysian Borneo

Hellos, goodbyes, and a lot of waiting in KL

2009-04-06T02:31:00.017-04:00

Talor: The kindness of strangers... after three hot soggy days in Cherating, headed to the bus stop and got a ride with a guy who was driving to Kuantan. He asked for nothing more than our company and the opportunity to practice English during the 40 minute ride to the next town where we needed to catch the bus to Kuala Lumpur. This was the third time we were given lifts by kind strangers in Malaysia, and we were grateful. As we got in his car, the AC felt heavenly! He dropped us at the bus terminal in Kuantan, and we offered him some money for gas, the least we could do. And the timing worked out perfectly... within a few minutes, we had tickets in hand and boarded a bus for a 4-hour ride to KL.

We arrived into KL and guess what? Just our luck, it was raining... again. We managed to make our way back to the Hotel Lok Ann, where we were greeted with smiles by the old men who ran the place. Settled in and took it easy for the rest of the day to rest up before taking care of business... a trip to the American Embassy to get additional visa pages for my passport, and then to the Indonesian Embassy to apply for an extended visa. We were figuring it would only take a couple of days to get those two things taken care of and we'd be on our way. Well, we were wrong...

The trip to the American Embassy was a bit of a hassle because it was the first time we had to deal with rush hour in KL. We took the LRT, but had to wait for three trains to go by before we could board because they were so crammed with people. Finally, pushed and forced our way onto the fourth train that pulled in and rode like sardines to Ampang Park. Once there, we had a long, hot, shadeless walk on broken sidewalks on a major street with cars whizzing by us way too fast. We didn't know which side of the street the embassy would be on, but after walking what seemed like forever, we realized we needed to be on the other side. But there are no traffic lights and no way to cross so we had to walk a mile back to cross over on a pedestrian bridge. By the time we got there, we were embarrassingly soaked in sweat. Then the fun really began...

Getting the extra visa pages for my passport was no problem, it took just a few hours, but when we showed Erik's decrepit passport to the official behind the desk, she basically shook her head and said he'd need a new passport, and it would take two weeks! We pleaded and pleaded and finally she agreed to expedite it, but it would still take a week. And the visa photos we had been carrying around with us for months were not to the specifications of the passport so we had to walk back to the mall by the train station to get new photos for E. After he submitted them, we went back to the hotel feeling absolutely exhausted.

The next day we did exactly the same thing, but with an even longer walk to the Indonesian Embassy to pick up visa applications and to find out what we would need to submit with the application. You would think for such a poor country, they would welcome Western tourists and their dollars, but strangely, they make it hard... they only issue 30-day visas on arrival for $25 that is not extendable, and you have to show proof of exit. Indonesia is a big country and we knew 30 days would go very quickly so we wanted to try and get a 60-day visa for about $50 to save us the hassle and expense of having to leave the country and return again for another 30-day visa. So we left with the applications since there was nothing to be done until we got Erik's passport back in a week.

As we left and walked back to the train station, we passed a medical center and I talked E into stopping in so we could have the growth on his shoulder checked out. He had had it for a month or so and kept promising to go see a doctor, but never did. So here was his chance. As we approached, we saw valet parkers with traditional attire and inside it was super-fancy, shiny glass, steel and marble. We were feeling a bit intimidated and thought for sure it would cost a fortune, but we figured we could at least get a referral and move on. The friendly lady at the information desk directed us to the Dermatology Department on the third floor so we took the glass elevator up looking out open-mouthed into the seriously elegant interior that looked more like a 5-star hotel lobby than a hospital. The accommodating staff at Dermatology were not fazed that we didn't have an appointment, and said the doctor could fit him in in about an hour. And the real kicker was that it would only cost a fraction of what we'd pay in the U.S. in an overcrowded clinic where you're more likely to catch something than get healed. So after much deliberation, we decided to stay and waited while using their free wi-fi. Soon, E had his biopsy, but we needed to return in eight days to get the stitches out so now our short stay in KL was turning into a much longer one... o well. The good news is that the growth turned out to be nothing to worry about... whew!

With eight days to kill, we could have gone back to the East Coast to the popular island of Tioman or even closer was Lumut, just four hours away, where we could take a ferry to another popular island. But we thought we're always “just passing through” KL, and we've never given it a chance. Why not stay and get to know it? So over the next few days, we not only got to know it, but grew to really hate it!

First of all, the heat and humidity is seriously unbearable... that is, when it's not raining, and it rained alot. And when it rained, it wasn't a happy welcome “thank you” rain, it was more like a torrential downpour of biblical proportions that made everybody run for cover as the streets get absolutely flooded. This would happen two or three times a day... everyday! And when it wasn't raining, it was so hot, we wished for rain. It seemed we were perpetually soaked, either by rain or sweat. Yes, I sweat in Malaysia... not glow, but sweat... like a man!

Second, it's really overcrowded, noisy, stinky and has way too much car traffic. And walking around town is a frustrating experience... sidewalks are broken down with gaping drainage holes and when it rains, the worn-down tiles are super slippery. The few decent sidewalks there are are taken up by vendors, food and drink hawkers and parked cars. So you find yourself walking in the street half the time and the drivers of KL are not very kind, they are aggressive and do not give way to pedestrians.

Every time we set out to go sightseeing, it would either rain (like the time we went to the garden district), be too crowded (like when we tried to go up the Petronas Towers) or would be closed even though we were there during published visiting hours (like the time we visited Masjid Jamek). After awhile, it became too frustrating so we gave up.

After much searching, we finally found a peaceful place by the river to have a run, but we had to brave the stink of the dirty polluted river that people chuck their trash into. KL, and most of what we've seen in Malaysia, has a serious litter problem. There is garbage everywhere! It's really infuriating to see people toss garbage into the river, the street, everywhere but into the garbage cans that are found throughout the cities. The “No Littering” signs are completely ignored. It's no wonder the streets are thoroughly infested with fat rats and giant cockroaches.

KL does have a couple of saving graces... the people and the food. We met up with Chuong, who we knew on the Corn Islands in Nicaragua back in June when he was a Dive Master helping Erik get his Rescue Trainer Certification. Now he's all “respectable” with a cushy marketing job in KL. He and his girlfriend, Stephanie a native of KL, took us to dinner at a cool Arabian restaurant, where we sat on cushions inside a tent and gorged ourselves on delicious food. That was definitely a highlight. In fact, mention KL, and I'll always remember the food... the warm soft tofu with brown sugar, noodles of every shape and size cooked every which way, whole steamed fish, herbal pork stew, rice porridge with raw fish, veggie dumplings, rotis, tandoori chicken, amazingly sweet mangos... the list goes on and on.

One other thing... we have always been “chain snobs” and turned up our noses at all the Mickey-Ds, KFCs, 7-11s and, especially Starbucks, we see everywhere because they are so formulaic and also because they tend to drive Mom & Pop shops out of business. But, in KL, we sought them out because they turned out to be peaceful havens for us to escape the chaos and enjoy AC and free wi-fi, and the always friendly staff never ask us to make a purchase. Plus, from what we have seen, it seems Starbucks and the small coffee shops can co-exist peacefully, probably because of the huge price difference... coffee at Starbuck's are at NYC prices, which is about 5x the price of a coffee in a kedai kopi. I'm not saying we're converts or anything, but if the monks like it, it can't be that bad.

Anyway, once we had passports and visas in hand and E's stitches taken out, we were, for once, glad to be leaving a place...

Erik: Not much left for me to say after all that! KL is an aggressive city, and definitely not set up with pedestrians like us in mind. Our timing was just unlucky as well, as this is not supposed to be the rainy season. Oh well...

The highlight was our great Arab meal with Chuong and Stephanie. It was great to see Chuong again, and what a change – from dive master beach bum to marketing executive – well done! We hope to see you both again on our way out. (And Stephanie, please don't take offense at our harsh words about your city – we just had a really hard time while we were there!)

The worst thing that happened while in KL was learning that our friend Gerry, who had been fighting cancer the last few months, was in hospice. I called and spoke to his mother, who relayed to him that T and I loved him and were thinking of him all the time. (I could hear his voice, full of morphine, in the background say, “What a nice guy!”) I was shocked and hurt to find out that he was in hospice and I couldn't help crying on the phone with his mother. Two days later I received news that Gerry had passed away. We miss you, buddy. We'll be passing through some great surfing destinations over the next few months, and so dedicate the rest of our trip to you. RIP.

T and I were at a loss as to how to react to such shocking news. I insisted that we go to the bar downstairs and raise a glass to Gerry – an ex-bartender. Much “arak” was poured on the ground and tears shed in Gerry's honor that evening.

We like to think that life at home stands still while we're away. Obviously that's not the case, but it's rare that you take notice of it on shorter trips. When you've been gone 15 months, though, it seems that everything back home is speeding by without you. I've missed a good friend's wedding, and may well miss the birth of their first child. Now losing Gerry, I can't help feeling sad, and almost a bit selfish at being so far away for so long. Here we are, gallivanting at our leisure around the world, when important things are happening to people we care about back home. Are we being self-centered? I don't think so. This trip had been a dream of ours for years. Finally making the leap was a major decision and involved a great deal of work, planning and sacrifice. I'm glad that I was able to relay a message to Gerry before he moved on, and I hope he understood (understands?) that we think about him every day. I hope that all our friends and family know how much we love and miss them, and that they are happy that we're finally able to live our dream. We're lucky to have a couple of friends coming to join us in Bali next month, which will be great.

Anyway, enough of the maudlin introspection. We do care about you all, and really look forward to seeing everyone when we get home. For now, with passports, visas and strange skin growths taken care of, we're off to to the world's 3^rd largest island, Borneo.

More photos of KL...

Kuala Lumpur (2), Malaysia

Rained out in Cherating, Malaysia...

2009-04-03T03:13:00.008-04:00

Erik: After one more day in Terengganu, during which Talor introduced to me to all her favorite foods and people (she has an amazing knack for making friends – everyone welcomed her with big smiles and open arms, and very happy to finally meet the absent “husband”), we decided to move on. We needed to get back to KL, as T's passport was full, and we needed to get to the US Embassy to have extra pages put in, but we decided to make a stop midway at the small surfer enclave of Cherating.

The bus left us off on the side of the highway at the main road into town. It was a short, 1/2-mile walk into town. This time T left me with the bags at a cafe and spent a good couple of hours wandering the small town, scouting out all the bungalow options. While she was searching, there was some commotion in the cafe, and I turned to see a macaque monkey swing into the small store next door, land on a stand of packaged snacks, steal a bag of nuts, and then swing back off. Funny that we've been to so many tropical places, into deep jungles, and the only “wild” monkeys we've seen have been wandering the animal rescue centers, or stealing packaged snacks in the center of town!

T did a great job checking out places to stay, and got us a cheap (RM 40/$11) bungalow with fridge, TV and fan, and nice little porch to hang out on. We even picked up wi-fi from the pizza cafe next door! It was run by a lovely man, Mr. Din, who happily helped us with any info we needed, and even brought us mosquito coils, mangos and an umbrella when it rained, which it did quite often.

Cherating is a very calm little surfer town, and the locals (mostly surfer bums) and tourists mingle quite easily. The beach isn't beautiful, but it's large and I was able to swim to cool off and get some exercise in the afternoons. There's not too much to do, but it's definitely relaxing.

The afternoon we arrived, I was sitting out on the porch when I spotted Andy and Pat from Pulau Perhentian at the pizza cafe next door. I went over and said “hi”, and they offered to go buy some beers for later. We ended up having a fun evening chilling on our porch drinking beer and whiskey, which they'd brought with them – good fun.

We spent the next couple of days checking out the town (when it wasn't pouring rain.) There's a large, modern cultural center which was never open, as well as several small restaurants and bars. We went to hear a live “R&B” band one night as well. They were good, but the music was more top 40's hits than R&B. Still even if we didn't love the selection of music, it was well and energetically performed.

Without much to do, though, and far too much rain, we decided to get a move on back to KL and get business taken care of. We'd heard from several people how erratic the local buses were, which we needed to get to nearby Kuantan in order to catch the long-distance bus to KL. Indeed, after lugging our packs out to the highway, we waited over ½ an hour in the heat, when a very nice man pulled up in his car and offered us a ride to Kuantan. He drove us straight up to the bus terminal, which was incredibly hospitable of him. Even though we weren't smitten with Malaysia overall, the people were some of the friendliest we'd met anywhere. From Kuantan we got a bus right away, and were back in big, noisy KL by mid-afternoon.

Talor: What can I say about laid-back Cherating? It certainly is a peculiar place... a popular weekend destination with national tourists, it had been recently developed with a new road, a tourist office and a cultural center, but they were both closed the entire time we were there. It also has... get this... an equestrian club (why there?), though we never saw anyone riding a horse. There were plenty of surfer dudes walking around town, but not surfing since there were no waves. And it also had some of the skankiest flophouse chalets I'd ever seen, and they were not cheap! We were lucky to find a clean chalet at the Payung Guesthouse and spent the next few days watching the rain from our porch. Consoled ourselves with some Western comfort food... surprisingly good thin crust pizza and pretty decent sized “American style” burgers, but they came at a cost, about 10x the price of a standard Malaysian meal... o well, sometimes you gotta do what you gotta do.

The one afternoon it didn't rain, we ventured out to the beach. It wasn't the prettiest beach and the water wasn't exactly crystal clear, but still... it was a beach, so we did a bit of sunbathing and Erik took a swim. It was interesting to see that Malaysians do not go to the beach at the heat of the day, but rather wait til late afternoon/early evening to take a dip. And, like the Cambodians and the Lao, both men and women are much more modest than Westerners and go swimming fully clothed.

But after several days of watching the rain, we were bored so we decided to move on...

Photos of Cherating...

Cherating, Malaysia

On my own on Pulau Perhentian

2009-03-26T06:22:00.012-04:00

Erik: A bit of travel advice: keep your passport on you at all times – it's much safer on your body than in your bags. Just as important, though, keep it in something water tight. More on that later...

In Terengganu, I'd looked into heading out to Pulau (island) Redang, which supposedly boasts great diving, but the prices and what seemed to be over development put me off – it was really more of a holiday resort island than a remote island paradise. A few hours north, near the Thai border were the Perhentian islands, the smaller of which had no roads, only a few bungalow resorts, and great diving, so that seemed the better option. T wasn't too interested in staying on a tiny island for any length of time, so as she mentioned before, we decided to split up for a week and do our own thing.

Getting there was easy – 2 ½ hour bus ride and then an hour ferry ride out to the island. Perhentian is actually two islands – the larger and more modern Perhentian Besar, and the smaller, simpler (and cheaper) Perhentian Kecil. I headed for the latter, and wasn't disappointed. I arrived on the Coral Bay side, which is comprised of about 100 meters of narrow sand beach and with 5 or so groupings of beach bungalows, a few restaurants and two dive shops. It was truly the rustic island getaway so many other places try to be – no roads, electricity only at night, and nothing to do but sit on the beach, swim or dive.

The far side of the island (a whopping 10 minute walk away) is Long Beach, with a much larger beach (go figure), and more of a backpacker, party-beach atmosphere. I opted for the beauty and calm of coral bay, as I really was there to relax and dive. Within 30 minutes of arrival I had a place to stay and was booked on an afternoon dive.

That evening after the dive and the shower, it hit me that I was on my own and could do whatever I wanted – a very strange feeling after so much time together. Spending nearly 24/7 together over a long period of time just isn't healthy for a relationship – and after so much time on the road, we're used to it as the norm, and you begin to forget the liberty of being able to make decisions on your own, doing exactly what you feel like doing, when you feel like doing it. Or simply doing nothing! The freedom of being on my own really was quite exhilarating for the first few days.

Speaking of doing what I wanted to do, beer on the island is quite expensive ($3/can), so I opted for the more economical small bottle of vodka and hung out with the dive crew at Steffen's Sea Sports. We shared a few drinks and diving stories, then I wandered over (all of 10 feet over) to the restaurant next store for an amazing fish BBQ. It was pricey ($4 for a huge king fish steak, potato, salad, fruit and banana bread!) , but I was famished and finished every last bit. Once I'd finished eating, though, it hit me – what do I do now? Well, there really was nothing to do, so I wandered back to my bungalow, read my book beneath the mosquito net. It's nice to be able to do whatever you want, as long as there's something you want to do!

Over the next 6 days, I did little more than that. Dive, eat, drink and read. Many of the dives were truly spectacular, and so I was never bored during the day. In the evenings, though, I did miss Talor and would often wish I had someone to share the beautiful sunsets with, etc. I made friends with the dive staff, though – many of them local to the island, or from the neighboring cities on the coast. Some of the other divers would do the same, such as Peter from Sussex and Andy, an American who teaches English in Japan, who we would meet up with later in Cherating as well.

The island is far from perfect – there are lots of mosquitos (one morning I found 8 of them, fat with blood inside my mosquito net!), and the food and drink is very over-priced and mostly mediocre. The diving is cheap and very good, though, which more than made up for it. My little bungalow perched on a rock overlooking the bay and the beach was nearly perfect - albeit very rustic - as well. In the evenings I would sit there, sip vodka listening to BBC World News on shortwave and stare at the stars. It was very beautiful and very relaxing, but after a week I really did miss T and was ready to get back.

Now back to that advice about the passport. I took the 8am ferry back, and as soon as we were loaded in the small, open boat, it started to rain. OK, no problem, there was a small rain/sun guard over the boat. But then the storm really kicked in, and it was dumping buckets – sideways! Everyone on the boat was soaked within minutes, and the ride took a full hour. I thought about my passport in the zip pocket on my trousers, but there was nowhere to move it to (my bags were at the back of the boat.) Besides, passports are sturdy things, right? (Again, more on that in a later post.

After the boat ride, I waited nearly two hours for a bus back to Terengganu. Luckily Andy was there, too, along with his friend Pat. Finally the bus came, and after boarding, I took out my passport, which was now warping at an alarming angle from the moisture, and many of the stamps were nearly illegible. Still, I didn't think too much of it, and was simply happy to see T waiting for me at the bus station in Terengganu.

Pics from Perhentian:

Pulau Perhentian, Malaysia

Left alone in Kuala Terengganu...

2009-03-25T01:24:00.013-04:00

Talor: Who woulda thunk I'd be happy in a dorm room with a shared bath for a whole week? Well... the dorm room at the SanKris Lodge (the only cheap accommodation in town) was clean, had AC, fast wi-fi, a friendly staff, and I had the whole room (6 beds!) to myself! I wasn't exactly roughing it, and all that for the bargain basement price of 20 ringgits (less than $6) per night.

We arrived into Terengganu to explore the islands on the East Coast. Erik had his sights on diving on the Perhentien Islands (north) while I wanted to check out the laid-back Island of Kapas (south). So we decided to take a much needed break and go our separate ways. Said good-bye the next day, and we agreed to stay in touch and meet up in a week. At first, it was a bit disconcerting being on my own after spending each and every day together, but then it slowly sunk in... for the first time in a long time, I could do exactly what I wanted when I wanted! I was completely free!

Kapas was close enough (1 ½ hours away) to do as a day trip so headed out on a Friday around noon... big mistake. Being that the East Coast is mostly Muslim, it meant that Friday is Sunday. The bus dropped me off at the town of Marang from where I would need to take a ferry to Kapas, but it seemed the entire town was shut down for afternoon prayers. And the ferries were actually individual outfits taking passengers back and forth from the island, and they were pretty pricey. So decided it wasn't worth it to go after prayers because there would only be an hour or so before I'd have to return. Plus the marketing materials I picked up from the tourist office made it seem like it was pretty built up now with hi-end resorts, so headed back and gave up on the idea. Instead, I decided to explore Terengganu...

Terengganu is a prosperous town with a nice mix of old and new, and just the right size so that it doesn't overwhelm. It had some interesting sites to see around town, including a developed waterfront with markets and evening performances, a nice beach that was strangely empty when I walked there, a large central market, and of course, a cool little Chinatown. Everything I needed was within walking distance, and the sites that weren't could be visited by taking a comfortable, air-conditioned tourist heritage bus free-of-charge. But best of all, Terengganu has the nicest and the friendliest people around, many who spoke very good English. Every single time I stepped out and into a coffee shop, noodle shop, the market, a bus or whatever, I was guaranteed a conversation, mostly from friendly locals who were curious as to why I was there alone, without my “husband.”

Every morning, I would go to a Kedai Kopi (coffee shop) on a parking lot just around the corner from the Sankris, where the coffeeman made me a nice strong cup of joe. He would repeat everything I said several times because he was learning English, and this would crack up all his friends who were hanging out there. On the long communal tables sat bundles of food wrapped in paper or banana leaves, and it was fun to have the locals explain what each one contained... rice or noodles with chicken, fish or boiled eggs, which made a nice little breakfast. After that I went sightseeing around town, and when I couldn't take the heat anymore, I would stop in at one of the friendly shops in Chinatown for noodles, a fruit shake, and more conversation.

Took a 10-minute ferry ride to the small fishing village island of Duyung and watched traditional craftsmen making boats by hand. Boarded the tourist bus 5k outside of town to the impressive Museum Negara, one of the largest in Malaysia. Also visited the Islamic “Edutainment” Park that is an educational park with no less than 21 mini-replicas of famous mosques from around the world. Then went to see the crown-jewel of the park, the Crystal Mosque, which was larger than life, fully-functioning and truly breath-taking.

Before you knew it, a whole week had gone by, and it was time to go meet Erik at the bus terminal. And when he stepped off the bus, I realized just how much I missed him! But he was sopping wet from the rainstorm, and was just skin and bones. The last thing I told him when he took off by himself to the Perhentiens was “Don't forget to eat!”... well, I guess he forgot. So we dropped off his bags at the Sankris, and I took him to my favorite eateries to fatten him up, including “Sponge Bob burgers” at a burger stand in the street.

In the evening, we took a walk to the hawker food stalls in Chinatown, where locals gather in the evening to eat, drink and socialize. With not much of a nightlife in the Muslim town, except for a couple of dark bars that are called “restorans,” this was definitely the place to be in the evenings. It was funny to see old men gathered to drink beer and watch Chinese soap operas. Then a friendly old man sitting at a table next to us came over and brought us yummy grapes to eat just out of the blue. To return the kindness, Erik bought him a beer, and then from there it escalated into snacks, more rounds of beer, handshakes, hugs and much laughter all around.

The next day we were ready to move on, but I felt really sad to leave...

My many photos of Terengganu...

Terengganu, Malaysia

A very crowded weekend in Melaka, Malaysia

2009-03-21T05:35:00.021-04:00

Erik: Melaka is famous for its colonial-era architecture – portugese, dutch and british influences mixed together over hundreds of years. The streets are supposed to be a joy to stroll through, taking in the sites, exploring their unique cuisine, seeing the gentle and friendly mix of so many different cultures living so peacefully together. Well, that's the postcard version, at least.

After a short, very comfortable bus ride (then a subsequent city bus downtown), we arrived in the budget-hotel area of town, which looked like little more than a suburban-sprawl strip-mall in any mid-size city or town. We'd hoped to have left the pricey room-rates of KL behind, but the first few places we looked at were near the high end of our budget, and nothing more than flop pads, with saggy beds, dirty floors, and if we were lucky, a window. Ugh! I let T take a break and watch the bags at a cafe while I spent the better part of two hours looking at dozens of hotels – all more than we wanted to spend and much less than we'd hoped for in regards to comfort. Finally, drenched in sweat, I settled on the Shirah Guesthouse, with adequate rooms at an OK price. The place was run by an Indian-Malay named Steven, who was almost overly friendly, and who really stressed that we were now part of his “family.”

That night Steven took the family (us and a few other guests) to a nice Indian meal of curries, dhal, naan and the like, where we ate with our hands (right hand only!) off of banana leaves. It was good fun, and we enjoyed chatting with our fellow travelers, a group of 3 young Japanese.

Afterwards we explored the old-town, which is now Chinatown. It was nice and impressive, but swarming with thousands of tourists on the main market street. We quickly veered away from the crowds and explored the smaller alleys and streets, all an odd mix of colonial-style buildings done up with chinese decoration. We eventually ended up back at the busy main square, where a large crowd was gathered to watch a main stage where public karaoke was performed, complete with amateur dance crews. It was truly hilarious and good fun, until the singing finally got the better of our ears and we headed back to the guesthouse.

We spent the next few days exploring the sights of Melaka, including a portugese fort, ancient english church on a hill, and of course more of chinatown, which boasted the most interesting colonial buildings, temples and mosques. Unfortunately, getting to these places was a real chore, as there was a huge hill between us and old-town, making what seemed like a short walk on the map into a long, hot trek down narrow, broken sidewalks. We also had to pass through one of the many mega-malls surrounding old-town to get there, which took away from the charm of the colonial sites. (At least they boasted strong AC as we passed through!) I'd been eager to see the famous Straights of Melaka, though as you'd expect, it was just a vast expanse of sea off the industrial waterfront.

We did find some interesting food, such as the town's famous pineapple tarts (including the world's largest one on display), and malay “steamboat”, which consists of skewers of meat, fish, tofu and vegetables which you cook in a vat of bubbling satay (spicy peanut) sauce built into the center of the table. It was fun to eat, but everything ended up tasting like peanuts and little more.

Again, after a few days, we'd seen pretty much all there was to see. Melaka is a very touristy town, and if you're looking for something more than trinket shops and old colonial buildings, then you'll probably end up a bit bored, as I did. From there, we decided to make a bigger leap to the northern part of the eastern malay peninsula, Kuala Terengganu, which entailed yet another 10-hour overnight bus ride. Woohoo!

Talor: Yes, Melaka was way over-crowded with tourists, and with our usual impeccable timing, we had arrived on a weekend, when the town gets inundated with national as well as international tourists... o well. It was kinda fun walking through the evening weekend market in Chinatown's Jonker street where vendors were lined up selling food, clothes, housewares and other knick-knacks. We got to see new food ideas, such as fried egg ice cream and waffle hotdogs, but it was the pineapple tarts that ruled. Famous in Melaka, these tarts (more like cookies with pineapple preserves on top) were everywhere so we went from stand to stand helping ourselves to the samples that were out.

Chinatown was definitely the most interesting part of town. It is famous for it's Baba-Nonya culture (mix of Malay and early Chinese settlers) with their own special cuisine and strong ties to old clans. There were also cool little artesanal shops and traditional wooden doorways, a gorgeous Chinese temple, one of the oldest in Malaysia, as well as mosques and churches. It's so nice to see different religions co-existing peacefully together. The other sites around town were pretty interesting, like the Dutch colonial architecture in the city square (which was more like a triangle), and we both got a real kick out of the decked-out trishaws, especially at night when they were decorated with glittering lights and blasted really bad pop music. But in the end, it became too draining... the long unpleasant walk there and back, and always having to fight through crowds and traffic. So we decided to move on.

Had a day to kill until we took a night bus to Terengganu on the East Coast so we stopped in at the Museum Complex that housed the People's Museum, which gave the history of the people of Malaysia, the three largest groups being original Malay, Chinese and Indian; a Kite and Tops Museum, which we learned are their national past-times; and most interesting of all, the Museum of Enduring Beauty, which chronicled the history of how people go to great pains to “enhance” or “deform” their bodies (depends on how you look at it) based on what is culturally considered attractive.

Some general observations about Malaysia... although it's cool to see the different cultures and religions playing nice, they generally don't mix. And after traveling through Cambodia and Laos, where we saw poverty on a grand scale, it was surprising to see overweight people again. Malaysia is a country that is more prosperous, so they eat well. And it is more modern with better roads, hi-rises and mega-malls, but the modernity isn't across the board... there are still nasty squat toilets in public bathrooms, the fowl smell of the sewer systems and broken down sidewalks. In fact, walking around in the towns and cities is just plain unpleasant... the sidewalks are taken up with vendors and parked cars and there is garbage and open sewage everywhere. On the other hand, the people are super-friendly and nice, except for when a queue is involved, then they are aggressive and down-right rude. Lots of contradictions and never dull, makes me want to explore more. So onto the East Coast, where there are supposed to be the highest concentration of Muslims, but also much more laid back...

Photos from Melaka:

Melaka, Malaysia

Passing through Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia...

2009-03-19T06:54:00.013-04:00

Talor: I was really looking forward to Kuala Lumpur. We had been there before, but only for a couple of days going to and returning from Vietnam. I remembered Chinatown, where we had stayed, to be a fun and lively place with plenty of good cheap eats. That was two years ago when we weren't on a “budget”...

We had a nice comfortable flight on Air Asia, and took a bus to the outskirts of Chinatown. Got off the air-conditioned bus, and we were immediately reminded of how brutally hot and humid it got there. In just the few minutes it took for us to get our bearing, we were already soaked in sweat! And compared to laid-back Laos, the congested streets, the noise, the smells and the traffic was overwhelming, but we needed to find housing so we took a deep breath and walked towards the heart of Chinatown.

There were no shortage of accommodations, but unfortunately, what we found in our price range was pitiful... tiny windowless cells with shared baths for about $15 and rooms with a window that looked out into a dark alley and a skanky bath for $20... UGH! Even when we decided to up our budget and look at nicer hotels, the rooms were claustrophobic and musty. We finally settled on the Hotel Lok Ann where the gruff old man at the front desk showed us a decent-sized room with a window, a bath and AC for $18. It wasn't pretty by any stretch of the imagination and the plumbing was iffy, but it also had some funny retro furnishings that made it kinda fun.

Went out and visited our favorite noodle shop for a curry laksa (noodle soup in a spicy curry broth with pork, fried tofu and clams), and it was just as good as we remembered it! In fact, Chinatown and, especially Petaling Street with all of its vendors selling knock-off everything, hadn't changed a bit. There was something nice about being in familiar surroundings. We snacked on pork buns, curry puffs and fruit as we walked around in the heat remembering...

From our window, we looked out onto a liquor store/bar right across the street. We had wanted to go have a drink the last time we were in KL, because it seemed like a cool divey old man bar right on the sidewalk, but we didn't get the chance. So when it rained buckets the following night, we ran across, grabbed a couple of seats and ordered a bottle of Chinese rice wine, which was cheaper than beer. Booze is expensive in Malaysia because it's mostly Muslim and gets heavily taxed. Anyway, we settled in and spent a fun evening chatting with some of the shady characters in the joint, and watched the interesting array of kooks, drunks and tranny hookers walking by. The sour owner, who turns out to be a nice old man, was always either throwing someone out or keeping someone from coming into his bar, while his wife rang up the purchases. It was a fun night.

After another day of unbearable heat and torrential rainstorms, we decided to head to the East Coast where it supposedly has beautiful beaches, great diving, a relaxed vibe and a lot less traffic. But first, a quick stop in the town of Melaka, a couple of hours south of KL...

Erik: KL was a bit of a shock to the system. As happy as were to be out of smoky northern Laos, we weren't ready for the noise, heat, traffic and prices in this big city. KL's saving grace is the great variety of cheap street food to be had, and we weren't disappointed on that front. I was quite frustrated at the price of beer, though. It costs about three times the price of a big bowl of noodles for a small bottle of beer! The rice whiskey at the liquor shop/bar was an affordable alternative, and a fun diversion. Definitely some iffy characters in there, though. We spent a good hour chatting and buying alternate rounds with a couple of indian guys who in the end refused to tell us their names – as if that were on a need-to-know basis.

After a couple of days, we were ready to leave, but first we had to brave the gauntlet of Puduraya bus station, where you must dodge and weave through the thousand of fellow travelers and bus hawkers grab you as you search for buses going to your destination, trying to get a commission off of your ticket – and all the while your ears being assaulted by other hawkers screaming out bus destinations at the top of their lungs. We were definitely looking forward to a more quiet and peaceful Melaka.

Photos from KL (part 1):

Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia

Leaving Luang Prabang...

2009-03-14T23:11:00.008-04:00

Erik: Nestled high in the Laos mountains, Luang Prabang is a bit of a cultural mecca of Laos. It boasts a huge number of centuries-old wats (temples), it's own unique cuisine, and many indigenous minority hill tribes in the surrounding mountains. We'd read that there's a chance of smoke in the air in March, when the neighboring farm lands are burned to help clear the land for new crops. However, as our bus wound its way up into the hills, we weren't prepared for what we found: miles and miles and miles of burning hillsides. everywhere. We didn't see more than a few trees spared. Sometimes the high flames came right up to the roadside, lapping the bus and filling it with smoke. Oh, the smoke! It was as if we were driving through some alien landscape devastated by fire bombing. you couldn't see farther than a half mile or so because of the smoke, and it grew thicker and thicker as we approached Luang Prabang.

As we exited the bus, my eyes began to sting and tear from the smoke, and there were ashes falling on us from the sky. T and I looked at each other and decided that we needed to get out of there as soon as possible. Unfortunately, leaving wasn't as easy as all that. We'd planned to head into Northern Thailand from there, and that involved a very long bus ride from a different bus station on the far side of town. We resigned ourselves to staying the night and trudged out into the haze to find a guesthouse.

That night as we walked teary-eyed through the tourist hoards at the market (oddly, none of them seemed to notice the smoke that much), we asked around about bus tickets to the Thai border, but we got different answers from everyone as to the times of the bus, where it left from, and how much it cost. Finally we gave up and decided that we needed to go to the bus station ourselves.

The next morning, after a delicious noodle soup, we headed out. The station is a good 3-mile walk outside of town, over a rickety narrow bridge high over a river gorge. It was pretty, despite the constant haze (none of our photos are any good because of the smoke...). At the station, we got the bus times, and the price (which was about 30% less than the hacks in town were going to charge us.) The next bus would be the following morning, so we headed back into town to have a look around. Luckily, we decided to check our email on the way back – we'd received a message from a friend-of-a-friend in Chiang Mai (northern Thailand), telling us not to come, as the air quality there was terrible. I guess they burn the hills throughout all of northern South East Asia in March! Ugh, so what to do? Where should we go? (At least we hadn't already purchased our bus tickets.) After much thought and much guidebook reading, we decided to head back to Bangkok, where hopefully the air was a bit clearer. We looked into flights there, as you get a 30-day Thai visa if you fly in, but only 15 days if you do the land crossing. Flights were very expensive, but then we noticed a really cheap fare from Vientiane to Kuala Lumpur, and thought, why not? We could always get back into Thailand via Malaysia anyway. So without thinking things through too much, we booked the flight leaving from Vientiane in 3 days. We had wanted to leave Luang Prabang immediately, and by this time we'd already been there over two days...

Of course, now we needed to get back to Vientiane, which meant another long, hot, smoky walk across town to the other bus station. (We saw a great deal more of the outskirts of Luang Prabang than we did of it's World Heritage city center...). We got the times and the price for the bus, and decided at this point to stay one more day and actually see some of the sights of the city – we had traveled quite a long way to get there after all.

To be honest, though, even the wats and colonial architecture didn't wow us that much. We did find some decent food in the town, though. More delicious noodle soups, pastries, and even an all-you-eat (well, actually, all-you-can-shove-onto-one-plate) vegetarian food stall where we ate most nights. Only 5000 kip ($.60) for an enormous plate of food. They also sold delicious BBQ chicken and fish, so we ate quite well.

So in the end, it took us 3 days to figure out how to leave smokey Luang Prabang...

Talor: Luang Prabang was a disappointment. I was looking forward to settling in, sightseeing and doing tours of the surrounding hills to visit some of the minority villages, but it was just too smoky. Under different circumstances, I think I would have enjoyed exploring it, but when we were there, everything was gray and dull.

But at least we found a nice place to stay at the Chao Pha Sith Guesthouse, a lovely room with a balcony. And, we ate well. The food at the night market was definitely the best deal in town, and it was delicious, especially the bbq chicken breast and fish. Unfortunately, it wasn't worth the headaches, teary eyes and sinus problems.

Plus after a month in Cambodia and close to a month in Laos, all the cities, towns and villages started blending into eachother. Although the two countries are different, they share similarities in food, culture and climate, and so everything was beginning to feel the same, and we were burning out on wats and noodle soups. It was time to move on to somewhere different... Malaysia!

Our gray photos of Luang Prabang...

Luang Prabang, Laos

Foreigners behaving badly in Vang Vieng...

2009-03-11T06:13:00.011-04:00

Talor: Wasn't really looking forward to Vang Vieng, a backpacker haven, known as a party town. But, we were heading north, and it was on the way to Luang Prabang, so we decided to stop for a day or two to try the most popular activity, tubing down the Mekong. A 3 ½ hour bus ride later, we arrived, and the scenery was beautiful with karsts (limestone hills) jutting out from the countryside.

The town itself is nothing to write home about with main street lined with guesthouses and restaurants catering to backpackers. Most of the guesthouses had basic non-descript rooms with absolutely no personality to distinguish one from another. And most of the restaurants had exactly the same “western” menu similar to what we had seen in other small towns in Laos. Not only that, the restaurants had these raised platforms with cushions and pillows where backpackers would get stoned, lay there and watch endless re-runs of “Friends” (the American sit-com). I couldn't believe it... it was exactly as they described it in the guidebook! We both thought, “UGH!, Let's get the hell outta here!” Unfortunately, we had to wait until the next day.

Spent the night in a tiny room at the Villa Lane Zeng, woke up in the morning, and noticed that it was much cooler than Vientiane. We thought “hmmm... this is not so bad...” So we switched to a much larger room at the Nana Guesthouse, away from the main drag, and decided to stay a couple days to try some of the activities on offer: caving, kayaking tubing, etc. Near the guesthouse, we found great street food and a nice little noodle shop where men gather to play petanque.

We thought tubing would be a good way to cool off so after lunch, headed to the central tubing place where we rented a tube, and took a tuk-tuk to the starting point, about 3km away. What a scene! There are bars all along the river where tubers can float/paddle to to stop and have a drink. Well, there was a party in full swing going on at the first bar where kids were just hanging out getting drunk and stoned at 2:00 in the afternoon. Twenty, or even ten years ago, I probably would have joined in, but it just didn't appeal to me. So we got in the water and started paddling downriver. As we went further downstream, there were less bars and it was much more tranquil. And I found myself relaxing and wholly enjoying the experience... floating in a cool river at the hottest time of the day, lazily paddling while taking in the gorgeous scenery. Took us three hours to finish, and we capped it off with drinks while watching the sunset.

The next day we took an all-day caving, trekking and kayaking tour with Green Discovery, an outfit known for responsible eco-tourism. We had a fun day checking out several caves outside of town, had lunch, then trekked (more like walked) on dirt roads through a minority village before kayaking on the same part of the Mekong we had tubed the day before. The group was pretty cool, a young American couple and an older Canadian couple, and it was nice chatting with them. Yong, our Guide, spoke pretty good English and had a great bubbly personality. He would crack jokes and laugh really loud which would make us laugh too. We stopped a couple of times while kayaking... first, to have a drink at a bar that was actually in the water, and second, so that Erik could swing off a tall platform and splash into the water. It was a fun, active day and we were exhausted at the end of it.

Though we had a nicer time than I thought I would, there wasn't much else to keep us there so on to Luang Prabang, a UNESCO World Heritage City and the crown jewel of Laos.

Erik: The activities were really fun. We explored gigantic caves full of stalactites and stalagmites. Another cave we actually had to tube through on an underground river with headlamps for light. Pulling our kayaks up to a bar table in the middle of the river was an excellent break. Sipping a big Beer Laos with your feet actually on the rocky river bottom is a wonderful experience.

The real downside of Vang Vieng, though, were the young backpackers behaving badly. It's quite sad to see them laying like zombies watching the TV all day. I'd rather shoot myself than watch “Friends” re-runs all day long. Drugs are illegal in Laos, but I guess that's just ignored, and you can order “happy” shakes at these TV bars - made with marijuana, magic mushrooms or opium. All over town there were informational posters telling foreigners how to behave so as not to offend the locals; don't do drugs in public, don't point bare feet towards people when sitting, don't wear bathing suits, etc. These posters were everywhere. The tubing shop had 3 huge signs painted saying please don't walk through town in bathing suits – but few of the tourists paid any heed at all, and pretty much did everything they warned you not to do. Perhaps I'm becoming a prude as I get older, but I found the disregard for local customs offensive to me as well. After just a couple of days we were ready to move on to Luang Prabang.

Tubing and other photos...

Vang Vieng, Laos

Millionaires in Vientiane, Laos...

2009-03-03T09:04:00.008-05:00

Talor: Arrived into Vientiane in the early morning and took a “jumbo” (a large tuk-tuk) to the city center. Had coffee at the Scandinavian Bakery where the coffee was pricey, but the free refills more than made up for it. Then we set out to look for housing. As we wandered around the streets going from guesthouse to guesthouse, we bumped into our friend, Veronique, who we met in Lago Atitlan, Guatemala, back in March. Small world! It was her last day in Vientiane so we spent the afternoon with her before she boarded a 25-hour bus bound for Vietnam. Yikes!

Later in the day we hit an ATM that allowed us to take out 2 million kip! Woo hoo! We were millionaires! Didn't matter that it was only a few days budget, we felt rich! Let the birthday celebrations continue...

Checked into the lovely Lao Heritage Hotel then spent a week indulging in international cuisine we had been missing... French (steak au poivre, prime rib), Vietnamese (bbq meatballs), Indian (veggies with naan), Chinese (dumplings), Italian (thin-crust pizza) and American (bbq ribs that had us licking our fingers). We also sampled high-end Lao food at Makphet, and street food at both the morning market and the night market. And breakfast was always yummy and filling at our favorite noodle shop where they serve a heaping bowl of sticky noodle soup for 5,000 kip (63 cents). Felt like I gained another 20 lbs!

We also sampled some of the nightlife, but being that Laos has a midnight curfew when businesses must shut down, it was all pretty tame. We often found ourselves the only patrons at the bars we walked into. At first we thought we were too early or maybe too early in the week, but it was like that on a Saturday night too. We went out to On The Rock, a live music venue where we had fun chatting with the owner and his friend, but when the band started up with Bee Gees cover tunes, we felt the need to move on. Headed to the cabaret club at the Anou Hotel where we danced with restraint, as everyone else did, to popular Lao tunes... watching was more fun than the dancing

Sightseeing was tough because it was soooo hot! But when we did get up the energy, we visited Patuxay, the Lao version of the Parisian Arc de Triomphe. The US donated the cement for an airport runway, but they decided an arc was a better idea. The Pha That Luang, Vientiane's most important monument, is a giant golden stupa which supposedly houses the Buddha's breastbone. It is quite the sight from a distance to see a shimmering golden monument on the horizon. But up close, it was a bit rundown and unimpressive. More impressive were the beautiful wats surrounding it. Then there was the Buddha Park, which was built by a man who tried to meld a variety of religions and the result is a collection of strange and kooky, but very cool looking statues.

All in all, we had a good week in Vientiane, but we both agreed it is the strangest capital we've been in. It seemed more like a small town than a capital city, where everyone is laid back and not much goes on. So onwards and upwards...

Erik: Yes, Vientiane is a strange, strange city. It feels very provincial for a nation's capital, and with a slow, lazy pace of life. We did see a few hummers driving around, so there are definitely some fat cats around, but for the most part it seemed that we were in a mid-size town rather than a capital city. T and I would go running (ok, “jogging”) in the morning in the Laos National Stadium, which was tiny and crumbling – more like a high school football stadium in the mid-west rather than a national soccer arena. Vientiane will be hosting the South East Asia (SEA) games later in the year, so workers were sprucing up the arena a bit, but hopefully no more than a few hundred spectators will show up, as the stadium can't hold much more than that.

It was very nice being able to choose from such a variety of food. After a couple of months of eating nothing but rice and noodles, we pigged out on everything we could get our hands on, though the breakfast noodle soup was still a staple for us. The heat was really unbearable, and we would only venture out for a few hours each day before running back to our lush AC room. T's birthday was a great excuse for us to spoil ourselves a little.

Our photos of Vientiane...

Vientiane, Laos

A Birthday Blessing in Pakse, Laos

2009-02-27T11:37:00.005-05:00

Talor: After that “momentous” bike ride in the morning, we killed a few hours then at 2pm, we boarded a boat to Pakse. The plan was to catch a night bus and go straight to Vientiane, the Capital of Laos. The boat ride along the Mekong was very scenic with rustic villages and fishermen on the water, but the motor was deafening. What was supposed to be a 2-hour ride turned into a very long, very hot 4-hour ride, and by the time we arrived into Pakse, we could smell ourselves... ugh! We were desperately in need of a bit of luxury so we ditched our plan to go on to Vientiane and checked into the Pakse Hotel. It was exactly what we needed...

Though it was pricey at $25/night, we finally had AC, and it felt like heaven! And for the first time in our travels, we had a shower curtain! Add to that super-fast wi-fi, and a super-big breakfast, and it seemed like the deal of a century. Our one night to get ourselves “cleaned up” turned into three as we enjoyed the luxuries of a city...

For the first time in weeks, we had a variety of foods available to us... Italian, Thai, Vietnamese and Indian food, and restaurants were open past 9:00pm! There were banks with ATMs where we got a better exchange, and markets where we finally found dental floss and sunscreen! Pakse even has a cinema and a brand spanking new bowling center, though it was strangely empty when we walked in.

On my birthday, we took a tour of the Bolaven Plateau famous for waterfalls and coffee/tea farms. On our return to the hotel, we visited Wat Luang where the very friendly monk, King (yes, that's his name), very carefully tied a yellow string on my wrist (monks are not allowed to touch women and vice versa) as a birthday blessing for happiness. But the best part was taking the night “sleeper” bus to Vientiane, which turned out to be real beds with pillows and blankets on the bus! It was the first time in our travels we had been on one, and it was fun! Happy Birthday to me!

Erik: Yes, after Mondulkiri, Don Khon and Champasak, the little city of Pakse was a very welcome slice of the (barely) urban world. Pizza, Indian Food, lasagna – all very mediocre and all welcome. AC! It felt so good that we hardly left the hotel room for the first day – especially as we had wifi in the room! Wow. With T's birthday looming, I racked my brain for something special for her, but the problem was that we didn't know where we'd be...in Pakse? in Vientiane? The Bolaven Plateau tour was the best I (we) could come up with, but we basically put the birthday off a day until we arrived in the capital. The tour of the plateau was a snooze (we spent most of the 8-hour tour in the minivan driving...good choice of a diversion before an 11-hour bus ride!), but the sleeper bus was good fun. We had a great time lying in bed watching the nighttime scenery roll past, and it's the first time I've really slept on a bus without prescription medication. Happy b-day, T!

More photos...

Pakse, Laos

Biking it in Champasak, Laos

2009-02-25T11:13:00.005-05:00

Erik: The ride to Champasak was pretty straight-forward – boat, minivan and ferry. The highlight being the “ferry,” which was nothing more than two small dug-out canoes with planks nailed across like a primitive catamaran. Still, it managed to take 5 of us and a couple of scooters across the large mekong safely enough.

Champasak is not much more than a small village along the mekong. It's claim to fame are the nearby Wat Phu ruins, often referred to as the “Angkor Wat” of Laos. We were able to find an OK room for the amazing rate of 30,000 Kip (just under $4.) We also found a lovely lady up the street selling delicious noodle soups and the strongest cafe laos I'd ever tasted, all for very cheap prices. Needless to say, we went there every day. Often twice a day, for an afternoon iced-coffee pick-me-up.

Wat Phu itself was a bit of a let-down after the grandeur of Angkor Wat. The ruins are from the same Angkor empire, but the similarity ends there. Wat Phu is tiny compared to the the other angkor ruins, and in a terrible state of repair. The best part of our trip out there, though, was getting T on a bike. Yes, she actually cycled 20 kilometers there and back. White knuckles and all. Not bad for someone who wouldn't even mount a bike on a deserted street a few months ago!

Outside of the noodles and great coffee, though, Champasak had little to keep us, and so after just a couple of days we were off to the real city of Pakse...

Talor: Champasak being the capital of the district, we were hoping for a bit of luxury, but found it to be a bit disappointing with its one main dusty road with not much going on. But the highlight was definitely the bike ride out to Wat Phu. They say Laos is the best country in Southeast Asia to bike in because it has the lowest population density and traffic. So I decided to bite the bullet and cycle the 10km there. Swerving around the potholes and occasionally screaming at the puppies, chickens and water buffaloes wandering onto the road, I managed to get there and back in one piece. Of course I could barely move the next couple of days, but it was well worth it. Bring on the roads!

Photos of Champasak...

Champasak, Laos

Sweating it on Don Khon, Laos

2009-02-22T10:51:00.008-05:00

Erik: After our 2^nd sojourn in Kratie, we headed north to Laos. We'd booked ourselves on what should have been a luxury minivan for the 5 hour ride, but they “overbooked” the van and instead of 10 passengers, we had 16! In addition to the cramped quarters, several of the seats were a bit broken, making things most uncomfortable. Our driver was cranky and I'm pretty sure that he was very hung-over as well, as he seemed to be trying everything not to doze off at the wheel – stopping several times for energy drinks, to pour water over his head, etc. What a fun ride! The border crossing into Laos was pretty uneventful, though we had to pay “overtime” fees to officials on both sides since we were crossing on the weekend, which must make for a tidy bonus for any official lucky enough to work the weekend.

Once in Laos, we boarded another, slightly more comfortable van, which took us to the Mekong River, where we boarded a small, covered boat to head out to the Si Phan Don (4000 Islands) area of southern Laos. That boat took us to the first major island, Don Det, where we needed to change to an even smaller, uncovered motorized canoe for the ride out to Don Khon, where we hoped to stay. I say “hope”, as when we arrived on Don Khon, it appeared that the island was full. There are only about 9 guest houses on the island, and the first 6 we checked were all full. Finally after much lugging of backpacks up and down the hot, dusty street (yes, only one dirt “street” on the island), we found the Pakha Guest House with a decent bungalow for 70,000 Kip, which we thought to be about $7. That was our next surprise – the Lao economy was strong and the Kip had gained against the dollar, so instead of a the 10,000-1 exchange rate we expected, we were only getting 8000-1, which made everything quite a bit more expensive.

The island was relaxing and lovely (I kept having to remind myself that I was in land-locked Laos rather than a tropical island,) though it was brutally hot as well. It did cool off a bit at night, but we still found it a bit difficult to sleep in the heat, as our fan only worked until 10pm, when they switched off the generator. At least it came with a much-needed mosquito net – ah the rustic life on a small island!

The next day we walked out to the Li Phi falls, where the Mekong plunges through a series of cascades into a beautiful rock gorge. The locals believe it to be a sacred spot which holds the spirits of all those that died on the river. We found it both impressive and beautiful. The walk there and back, though, was extremely dusty and hot (each day it was getting progressively hotter), so once back to the guest house we treated ourselves to one of their specialties, a coffee-banana shake. And then another. It was so good and refreshing.

That's more than can be said for most of the food on the island. It seemed that every restaurant shared the exact same menu – mediocre fried noodles or fried rice, pricey fried fish, etc. At least there was no shortage of cold, delicious Beer Lao on the island, which I found far more interesting than the over-priced, bad food.

The next day I decided to walk around the island. Unfortunately I didn't quite realize how big the island was. I also didn't realize that the sunscreen I'd purchased in Kratie was bogus, and actually provided no SPF protection at all (it claimed SPF 60 on the bottle.) The result being that I returned from a long, long walk, parched from lack of water and beet red on my arms, neck and chest. Did I mention how hot it was on the island? The last mile or so of the walk, I was whistling the “Bridge on the River Kwai” song, marching at full stride and trying not to collapse from exhaustion and dehydration. Water had never tasted so good as when I finally got back.

Still, all-in-all, Don Khon is a beautiful, tranquil place, and surely more pleasant when visited before the hot, dry season. We were treated to several beautiful sunsets over the mekong, but after just a couple of days, we were ready to move on.

Talor: After moving so quickly through Cambodia, going from place to place and never really settling in anywhere for very long, I was looking forward to just chilling out for awhile on Don Khon. With nothing much to do but swing on a hammock, read a book and just relax and watch life unfold at Lao pace, it sounded ideal. Unfortunately, the heat and the food made it an unpleasant stay...

There was just no way to escape the heat! The river water wasn't too enticing with it's weird soupy green color, and we heard that it had river flukes so that wasn't an option. Took cold shower after cold shower but found myself constantly soaked through with sweat. We counted the hours til 6:00 when the generator would be turned on and we could run the fan, but we found it hard to fall asleep once it went off at 10:00.

Also, after eating mostly Cambodian food for a month, I was really looking forward to trying Lao cuisine, which had some interesting sounding dishes. Unfortunately, all the eateries were attached to guesthouses and had pretty much the same menu serving their idea of what western tourists like to eat... fried rice, fried noodles, banana pancakes and muesli... boring!

On the positive side, the scenery around us was lovely, the sunsets gorgeous and the banana-coffee shake, as strange as it sounds, was really delicious. But sadly, it wasn't enough to keep me there so, once again, time to move on...

Our photos...

Don Khon, Laos

How many pineapples can an elephant eat? Mondulkiri, Cambodia

2009-02-15T03:35:00.013-05:00

Erik: Some weeks back we'd read about the Elephant Valley Project in Mondulkiri. The original purpose of the project was to bring medical treatment to the poor, over-worked elephants in the Mondulkiri region, but the project had evolved into more of a sanctuary for old or sick domestic elephants, with an eco-tourism element which allows visitors to learn about and ride them. We finally gave them a call from Kratie and were happy to find out that they had space for us the next day to come and visit. That night we packed our day bags for a 2-3 day trip out there, and set off the next morning.

After a short bus ride to the ugly transport hub of Snoul, we shopped around for some sort of shared-taxi to the main Mondulkiri town of Sem Monorom. At the end of much asking around, we finally found a pickup truck heading that way. Remembering our horror-story pickup ride into the Moskitia in Honduras, we paid a bit extra to make sure we were seated up front in the cab, though with 8 of us packed in there, it was hardly comfortable. At least we weren't piled with the 12 others and a ton of cargo in truck's bed! After about 4 hours and one flat tire, we rolled into town just in time for our 3pm meeting with EVP founder Jack Highwood. An hour later, we bumped our way along a bad dirt road in Jack's pickup to the EVP. Along the way, Jack pointed out the unbelievable deforestation in the area. “Last week that was dense jungle forest there” he would say, pointing at a bald hillside, still smoking from the fire they had used to clear it. All the surrounding fields were equally bare for as far as we could see...

We were very happily surprised with the EVP set up – especially the new lodge and bungalows where we'd be staying – very nicely furnished, and boasting views over the (still) lush jungle valleys below. Wow – not nearly as rustic as we'd imagined our lodging would be. We had our own private bungalow, as did our fellow visitors, Daniela, an Italian psychologist living in New Zealand, and Arman, from Toronto. Nice.

Those of you familiar with our history of strike difficulties will laugh to hear that the next morning over coffee we found out that the elephants had gone on strike. Well, not the elephants themselves, but their mahouts (handlers.), hoping for more than Jack's already quite generous elephant salary. So instead of hands-on elephant training, we toured the facilities, saw the hospital and school which were still being built. We did SEE the elephants, but the mahouts would not take them out to play. Sigh. That afternoon the strike continued, so we trekked on foot out to a nearby waterfall, which though elephant-free, was still quite beautiful, cool and relaxing.

Next morning the strike was resolved, ($2.50 pay raise) and we made our way down to the valley to meet the elephants. They'd brought out EZ Rider and Gee Nyal (the two are inseparable, apparently.) Daniela and Arman went for a ride, then Talor and I got to meet them, learn their body language, etc. They really are amazing animals, and have such intelligent-looking eyes. Talor doesn't believe in riding animals, but I did take a spin on Gee Nyal, which was very interesting, though I doubt I'd do it again. Though I'm hardly a burden for this huge animals, my legs work just fine for getting around!

The previous night another of the elephants, Princess, had escaped, and Jack asked me if I'd like to help him look for her that afternoon while Daniela and Arman went for a longer elephant trek. I agreed readily, as we'd be visiting local villages and forests. They found Princess just before we set off, however – she'd been in one of the village's pineapple patches, so Jack and I went off to survey the damage. As it turns out, she'd eaten 106 of their pineapples. 106! (We had to count all the destroyed plants so that Jack could properly compensate the village...) To his credit, Jack kept a sense of humor about the whole scene and laughed to himself about the folly of his day-to-day life. On our way back, he toured the village with me, showing me many large craters from American bombs dropped during the Vietnam war, a dirty well which was giving the children dysentery, and the school, where kids had chalked scenes of men shooting each other with automatic weapons. My general Cambodian depression continued to grow. At least I'd finished reading that good, but oh-so-sad Graham Greene novel...

The next morning we were off, and except for getting stuck in the mud and another flat tire, we had little problem getting back to Kratie. (Oh, there WAS that 4 hour layover in beautiful Snoul.) I was very impressed by Jack Highwood and his EVP. He's quite young (mid-late twenties?), and yet has started up this ambitious project in the middle of nowhere, Cambodia, taught himself to speak Khmer, all within the confines of an extremely corrupt and bureaucratic government. Quite a feat for anyone, let alone someone so young. He has supporters and donations from around the world, and is getting more-and-more tourism and volunteers. Good luck, Jack! If anyone cares to visit or donate to the EVP, the website is here:

http://elie-cambodia.org/elieecotourism.html

Talor: Though I wasn't too keen on going back into a jungle, I wanted another chance to spend some quality time with elephants. Yes, it was an uncomfortable 4-hour bumpy ride to Sen Monorom and then another 45-minute bone-jarring ride to EVP, but I wanted to see elephants! As Erik said, the cabins were huge and gorgeous and far more luxurious than we had expected with our own bathroom and running water. But it was in the middle of the jungle... electricity for only 3 or 4 hours in the evening, a steep climb up a dirt/muddy path to get to the lounge/kitchen/dining area where we took our mostly vegetarian meals and there was no shortage of mosquitoes, ants and giant spiders.

But the elephants were magnificent! Though Jack tried to get me to ride one, I was just happy to watch. They are wonderfully amazing creatures with such soulful eyes! Just seeing them made the trip worthwhile!

Photos from the EVP:

Mondulkiri, Cambodia - The Elephant Valley Project

Floss-less in Kratie, Cambodia

2009-02-13T03:05:00.007-05:00

Talor: From Phnom Penh we headed north and an 8-hour bus ride dropped us off at the small riverside town of Kratie (pronounced “Kra-chey”) along the Mekong. Checked ourselves into a comfortable fan room at the Heng Heng hotel that had a great river view. We spent the next couple of days just enjoying the riverfront... running in the mornings, walking around town and checking out the French Colonial architecture in the afternoons then going out to watch the sunset in the evenings.

Then we took a 4-day side trip to visit the Elephant Valley Project in the Mondulkiri Province (see next blog entry), and returned to spend several more lazy days just chilling out. On one of our more ambitious days, we rented a motorbike and rode to the neighboring town of Chlong (45 minutes away) along the bumpiest, dustiest road. By the time we got there, every pore was absolutely covered in red dust. Found a nice little eatery and chowed down on cold noodle salads and fresh spring rolls then ate some more dust on the ride back. On our return, we rode for another 30 minutes in the other direction hoping to catch a glimpse of the rare Irrawaddy Dolphins. We took a boat ride, and it wasn't long before we started to see them, but only for brief moments when they came up for air. And though we didn't get to see them up close, we felt lucky to have seen them before they became extinct.

Another happy thing about Kratie was discovering the bar/cafe/bookshop, Red Sun Falling. Joe, the owner, is an American ex-pat who has been living in Cambodia for eight years. He was great fun to talk to, and the food and drinks were very reasonably priced. So before we knew it, we found ourselves going there every night. We didn't even realize we were craving Western food until we started seeing his daily specials. We tore into his Flemish stews and veggie pies, and drank quite a bit of his beer and vodka too!

But then we ran out of dental floss. We literally went to every shop, market, pharmacy and even to a dental clinic, but most people had never even heard of it before! Oy, time to move on...

Erik: Kratie was relaxing and fun – and we did manage to get into a daily routine of exercise in the (relatively) cool mornings, then breakfast and a bit of exploring in the morning/early afternoon. Lunch, siesta, then beer while watching the sunset over the mekong, followed by dinner at Joe's place. After a while, the sunsets grew boring, so we just went straight to Joe's for a pastis or beer and his nightly dinner special. We were in Kratie over valentine's day, and joe had the place decked out in hundreds of big paper hearts, each with its own ribald, cynical valentine's day statement. “I liked you more before you started talking”, “I love you long time (or until your NGO funding runs out)”, etc. It was a fun place, and most of the ex-pats living in Kratie went there in the evenings, so we were able to get the local scoop on things. We even were invited to a birthday party for a lovely Australian woman working with the Irrawaddy fresh-water dolphins. We'd have liked to stay for the party, but our Cambodian visa was running out, so we needed to head on to Laos quite soon.

Oh, the part about the dental floss is true – we scoured the entire town, including every single stall of the market, but none was to be found. Also worrying was that we'd not seen any sunscreen, either. Finally, on our last day there, we did find some very cheap sunscreen - $3 for a big bottle of SPF 50. “Too good to be true” as they say...and it was indeed. I was to pay a higher price a few days later...

Our photos from Kratie:

Kratie, Cambodia

Phnom Penh...again

2009-02-11T03:56:00.007-05:00

Talor: Our return to PP was very brief... just a day and a half to get a Laos Visa then board a bus for the north. This time we decided to try a different neighborhood, the Boeng Kak Lake area, which is the traditional backpacker haunt, famous for cheap rooms and great sunsets. We checked into the Grand View Guest House, where the only thing grand about it was the view from their 6^th floor walk up roof restaurant. Actually, their Vietnamese coffee was pretty good too. Though the digs were nothing to write home about, they did give us a good price to get our Visas turned around in 24 hours.

With a day to kill, we took a day-trip to the Phnom Tamao Wildllife Sanctuary, an hour outside of the city, where they house animals rescued from poachers and other animal abusers. We spent the day with Watana, our English-speaking Guide, and a French couple on their honeymoon, visiting the different wildlife, some running free within the sanctuary and others in cages. Though at times, we felt sad for the animals, we also felt happy that they had a safe home. We took a break mid-day and had a lovely picnic, and afterwards, Watana gave us a taste of muscle wine (yuck) and betelnuts to chew (double yuck). Then came the highlight... the elephants! It was the first time I had ever seen an elephant up close that wasn't caged in a zoo. And I even got to touch and “kiss” Lucky, an affectionate adolescent female. And I cried when I saw Chouk, a 2-year old, limping around because he lost one of his feet in a poacher trap.

Got back to the city just in time to watch the sunset then got cleaned up and packed before heading to the Lazy Gecko Cafe for “Thursday Night Trivia” where they also sold raffle tickets to raise money for an artificial limb for Chouk. We entered as “Lucky and Chouk,” chugged down 75 cent Stoli & Cokes and had a fun night.

Erik: The rescue center seemed more like a zoo than a sanctuary. I hate seeing animals in cages, but in this case it seemed for the best. (I did find out later, much to my sadness and disappointment, that it really is more of a zoo than a rescue center – see our forthcoming Mondulkiri entry for that...) Chouk's missing foot made me very sad as well. In fact, the more I saw and learned in Cambodia, the sadder I got. It didn't help that I was reading “First They Killed My Father” about a young girl's life under the Khmer Rouge, followed by Graham Greene's “The Heart of the Matter” - another very good and very depressing book – must find some lighter reading to counter all the sad stories I'm hearing here...The trivia contest (and the vodka) helped cheer things up for the evening – we were even tied for the lead at one point before we crashed and burned in the final rounds...

The next morning we were booked on a 6 hour bus to the sleepy little Mekong River town of Kratie.

Round 2 of photos from P.P.:

Phnom Penh, Cambodia II

Diving and beaching in Sihanouk Ville...

2009-02-08T11:23:00.009-05:00

Erik: After reading and hearing about the non-stop beach party town of Sihanouk Ville, I was a bit dread to go there – especially after the calm of Kep and Kampot. It was on our way, though, and I did want to get a few dives in, if possible. At first blush I really hated the place – loud, obnoxious, drunk tourists everywhere, beaches full of both litter and bathers, and very little to actually remind you that you were in Cambodia. We had a hot, hard time finding a hotel as it was high season, but we did finally find a room at Villas de Roos, run by a friendly Belgian man and his Khmer wife. We had not one, but two queen-sized beds in the room, and not much else, as the beds took up most of the available floor space.

After a few hours in the town, I was ready to leave - it's really not a pretty place - but Talor convinced me to go diving the next day and relax a little, which was good advice. I shopped around and booked with the least busy of the dive shops, and was very happy I did – there were only 4 guests on the boat the next day, and I was the only diver, so I got personal attention. I also got to get my French back up to snuff (it had suffered more and more as I struggled to learn Spanish) – as one of the snorkelers was French and my dive master was Swiss. It was an enjoyable day - the diving was nothing special, but it was good to just get in the water again. We lunched on a small, lovely palm-lined island, which was a great way to chill out between dives.

Most of the restaurants in the town cater pretty much exclusively to the barang tourists, so it was difficult to dine in a Khmer environment, so instead we opted for a delicious seafood BBQ restaurant next door to the hotel, which served up really good grilled barracuda and snapper. (I've since learned that barracuda are over-fished here, so I'll not be enjoying that any more...glad I didn't know that when I ordered.)

We took one more day in “snookville” (as the ex-pats call it), to spend a little time on the beach. We walked an hour out of town to get to a beautiful, calm, nearly-deserted stretch of beach – and it was well worth it. We also spent some good time chatting over drinks with Marc, our Belgian host, and Captain Don, a surly, rugged old American who's been living there for 10 years. Don gave us his views on the the city's and the country's development, corruption, etc. We even ventured out to the beach bars for a full moon party, but after just one beer, the noise and annoying crowds of 20-something partyers got to us. Guess we're getting old.

So Snookville wasn't a complete wash. I'm glad that we went, but I'm also glad that we left after just a few days. Now I wonder what to expect from southern Thailand, which is likely to be Snookville amplified 10 times...

Talor: Sihanouk Ville was kinda what I was expecting... touristy with over-crowded beaches. And we happened to arrive on a Khmer holiday weekend so it was extra packed with people. But we did manage to find moments of peace and quiet and places to relax.

While Erik went diving, I had a run in the morning, my first in nearly three weeks, and man did I feel it the next day! Then I spent a really nice quiet afternoon at the Starfish Project's Bakery and Cafe. The Starfish Project is an NGO that provides social services and assistance to disadvantaged and disabled Cambodians. It was great chatting with Ra Tun, who has been working there for a year. Prior to that, he fished for a living and never had time or money to study. In fact, whenever he would pass by the university, he would cry because he was jealous of the other kids who could go to school. Now he goes to the university, his education paid for by the NGO, and is happy to be studying English. He hopes to someday follow in his employers footsteps and create an organization to help other people... so cool!

The next day, we walked to Otres Beach, about an hour away. Even just a 15-minute walk away from the ever-packed Serenity Beach, and it gets less crowded. A 30-minute walk and you see more cows than people. It was sad though to see so much garbage strewn everywhere. But after about an hour, we crossed a bridge then walked over a hill and when we came down on the other side, we were rewarded by a nice stretch of beach that was clean and nearly deserted. We parked ourselves under a tree for a little shade/a little sun and chilled out listening to the gentle lapping waves. About an hour later, a lady came by with a mini-bbq selling fresh cooked squid on a stick. We ate without even getting up!

That evening, we went to Victory Hill, the former backpacker area that has now turned into more of a girlie bar scene. But they say it's the best place to see the sunset. At the Bungalow Village, a quiet guest house/bar/restaurant on a hill, we sat on comfortable mats in their lovely garden and had drinks watching the sunset... aaahh, life is good!

More photos...

Sihanouk Ville, Cambodia

Peppers and caves in Kampot, Cambodia

2009-02-05T07:12:00.009-05:00

Talor: Kampot is a very cool, very chill little town famous worldwide for their peppercorns. After settling into the Orchid Guest House, spent three days exploring the riverfront, the French colonial architecture and the lovely rural countryside.

Our first evening, we went out for a night on the town to celebrate our anniversary. Though the pretty riverfront is lined with bars and restaurants, it was fairly low-key... just my style. Clinked glasses watching the sunset, then being the party animals that we are, we were back in our room and in bed by 10pm.

The next day was spent exploring the town on foot and bicycle... yes, I finally got up the nerve to learn to ride a bike again! After a few false starts with everyone in the vicinity watching and laughing, ventured out into the streets that have paved roads and light traffic. Worked up a major sweat riding two whole blocks to the waterfront! Only fell down once, but then panic set in when I almost got hit by a motorbike then decided that was enough and walking is a lot safer and much more pleasant. So we walked across an old rickety bridge, that had been destroyed and re-built three times, to see what goes on on the other side... not much, but found prices a lot cheaper. Then came back via the new bridge and walked to the bustling market in the center of town digging the French colonial architecture everywhere. Finally got Erik a krama, a traditional Khmer multi-purpose scarf, which is great for sun-protection.

At the Epic Arts Cafe, an NGO that employs deaf and disabled Cambodians, we had our first western meal. The salad with tuna and fruit and the vegetable quiche were surprisingly good. And they had a fantastic fruit shake, pineapple and mint, that was super-refreshing. But the best part was just sitting and people-watching because it's THE gathering place for the deaf and disabled in Kampot. They were very friendly and patient with us as we tried using American Sign Language with them, but found it is very different from Khmer Sign Language. But through gestures, body language and lots of smiling and laughing we managed to communicate anyway.

For our final day, we rented a motorbike to explore the caves in the countryside. We were eagerly met by a bunch of kids who all wanted to be our guides for a tip. One of the oldest, who spoke really good English, wanted to guide us, but he had to go to school. It was good to find that they put a high value on education here, especially learning English, because they see it as their only opportunity to getting a good job. So we were led by one of the others and soon we had a group of three leading us and showing us “points of interest,” which really amounted to rock formations that resembled animals. Found the inside of the caves dank and claustrophobic, but enjoyed speaking English with the kids.

Afterwards, took a pleasant ride to the peppercorn farms. We got a guided tour and a tasting of the fresh peppercorns, which when eaten raw are super-spicy. With our mouths burning, we got back on the bike and enjoyed the ride back to town stopping every now and again to take photos (way too many) of the rural countryside and the beautifully green farms.

Our next stop along the Southern Coast, Sihanouk Ville...

Erik: Kampot was nice, and I was really happy that Talor finally built up the courage to mount a bicycle once again. She had a few bumps and bruises from it (as well as sore arms from being so tense,) but it should pay off well as we visit the more rural areas. Being a former French colony, there were plenty of frog ex-pats living there, and I was happy to find that after months of losing my French as my Spanish improved, it came back quite quickly. I even sat in a small bar and listened to Noir Desir's “Tostaky” - a French rock song that had been very popular when I was a bartender in Paris so long ago...strange juxtaposition!

Renting the scooter to see the countryside was good fun, and we met so many young kids eager to practice their English – it was a simply relaxing, pleasant day.

Next up, though, is Sihanoukville, famous as THE party beach resort of Cambodia...wasn't quite sure what to expect there, after the calm, quiet, easy life of Kampot.

Kampot photos:

Kampot, Cambodia

A little kip in Kep, Cambodia

2009-02-03T06:44:00.007-05:00

Talor: Sleepy little Kep (population circa 2,000) used to be a favorite beach town for the French and Cambodian rich and powerful until Pol Pot destroyed it. Now it is slowly being rebuilt and attracting some tourists again. But for now, you can still see the damage with hollowed-out buildings all over town where squatters have taken up residence. It was a nice tranquil escape, but after a day or two we found it a little too sleepy. And though there are beaches, they're pebbly, not sandy. In fact, back in the day, sand was shipped there from Sihanouk Ville.

We settled into the N4 Guest House then took a walk to the nearby Crab Market, which is not really a market, but a series of food shacks all offering fresh seafood with a view of the ocean. We had a pricey but delicious meal of bbq'd squid and giant prawns. And in the evening, we walked up a bit of a hill to the Vanna Guest House and had drinks while watching a pretty sunset.

The next day, we took a boat out to Koh Tonsay (Rabbit Island), where there was a very rustic fishing village. Spent the day walking and exploring, sunbathing (talor), swimming (erik) and lunching on crabs and fish then napping on the beach, before returning in the late afternoon. It was a very rough day!

Erik: Kep was fun, and cute, but oh so touristy, in a laid-back kind of way. No partying or beach volley ball or jet ski's – instead mostly couples and family's enjoying very good seafood and sunsets over the sea. Rabbit Island was interesting – you can stay the night if you like, but the $5 bungalows are the ultimate in rustic, with one outside toilet/shower with no running water (you use water bucketed out of a large barrel), and a herd of cattle meandering and sleeping throughout the the little village. I'd hoped for some good snorkeling there, but the water was green with algae, and most of the beaches fenced off with fish nets. Still, a good escape for an afternoon or even an overnight if you don't mind sharing your yard with the livestock.

The food in Kep was very good. The “pricey” sea-front meal we had at the crab market was all of $10, which included 10 enormous tiger prawns, 6 big chopped-up squid (everything BBQ'd to perfection with a sweet-spicy glaze), fried rice and a big beer. Expensive compared to our typical street food meal, which is usually $1-$2 for the both of us, but quite a steal compared to NYC prices!

In the end, though, there really was no “local” side to Kep, and not much else to do but eat at barang-oriented restaurants and stare at the sea, so we moved on after just a couple of days.

A few photos from Kep:

Kep, Cambodia

Phnom Penh, Cambodia

2009-01-30T04:12:00.013-05:00

Talor: Boarded a bus from Siem Reap and six hours later, we arrived into Phnom Penh, the Capital of Cambodia (or Kampuchea as the Khmer call it), in the late afternoon. After a bit of searching, a combination of a tuk-tuk ride and walking door-to-door, we settled into a large double at the Khun Leng Guesthouse on Street 111, quite luxurious with air-conditioning AND hot water... our first since NYC!

The next three days passed quickly as we set out to see the sights. We were wow'd by the fantastic collection of ancient art at the National Museum. Good thing photography is not allowed or else we would have had a million photos! The Royal Palace, similar to the Grand Palace in Bangkok, was a bit underwhelming and not as... well... grand, but lovely just the same. The Tuol Sleng Museum, a former school that Pol Pot's Khmer Rouge turned into a prison/torture chamber, and where thousands of men, women and children were killed, was utterly depressing, but eye-opening to see how depraved human beings can be. The domed building that houses the central market, Psaar Thmei, was pretty cool, but we were disappointed in that, as with the cramped and claustrophobic Russian Market, it had become very touristy, and therefore, the vendors weren't willing to bargain much... o well.

At the Sovanna Phum Theater, part of an NGO trying to revive the performing arts in Cambodia, we took in a very creative and entertaining show, a combination of traditional music, dance, puppets and shadow puppets. Then we headed toward the river to experience PP's famous nightlife, but were saddened to find the majority of them were just girlie (sex) bars with a handful of young scantily clad girls drinking with western men... ugh. Prostitution runs rampant here and though there are laws against sex with a minor, we see very young girls with dirty old men all the time... it's really sad. However, there is a nationwide campaign to end child sex exploitation. I'm not sure how successful it's been, but everyone is encouraged to report it. The good news is that the rate of HIV/AIDS (one of the highest in SE Asia) is slowly going down through information and education.

A word about getting around...walking is unpleasant given that there are very few sidewalks, and even when there is, the sidewalk is taken up with vendors, parked cars, tuk-tuks and motorbikes so you pretty much end up walking in the street. Taking tuk-tuks is a real hassle because first they try to rip you off, they usually don't know where they're going so you need to pay attention and direct them, then they complain afterwards that the ride was farther than they thought and ask for more money... argh! And the driving is CRAZY! They drive in every direction on either side of the road and nobody obeys the stop signs or traffic lights. Though not as bad as Vietnam, but only because there are less motorized vehicles on the streets, it is still stressful.

But we did enjoy the food... similar to both Thai and Vietnamese, Khmer cuisine is all about fresh ingredients. They also make liberal use of herbs, spices, chilies and fish sauce, which they say is different, but my palate has yet to be able to distinguish the difference. As usual, we sought out street food... fresh cut-up fruit, noodle soups with fatty pork, rice porridge with unidentifiable organs, toasted baguettes filled with pate and pickled veggies, refreshing cold noodle salads, and hairy fish pastries that were yummy. We also tried the wildly popular eatery below our guest house where hordes of Khmer would gather to eat Chanang Dei (Cook-Your-Own-Soup). They brought us a portable gas bbq with a pot of stewed goat soup on top, and as it boiled, we added vegetables, mushrooms, tofu, taro, eggs and noodles, then we sweated as we slurped up every last bit. And for our last meal in PP, we decided to splurge at the elegant Romdeng, which is part of an NGO network that takes kids off the streets and trains them with valuable skills in the hospitality industry among others. We indulged in a traditional Khmer dish, called Amok, which is fish baked with coconut, spices and herbs in a banana leaf. Also had a uniquely Khmer dish of spicy ground pork dip with crudite. Then for dessert we ordered homemade coconut and mango sorbets, and jokingly asked for fish sauce and chilies on top. It came with no fish sauce, but it was sprinkled with chopped up chilies... the ultimate flavor explosion of sweet and spicy! Left feeling happy not just with a good meal, but having supported a good cause... aaahh!

Erik: Yes, P.P. is crazy. You constantly have to dart-and-dodge the wild driving tuk-tuks, motobikes, and SUV's. The bigger vehicles don't give way – just plough through the throngs, so you have to stay alert and ready to jump aside at any moment. More aggravating are the tuk-tuk drivers soliciting business – they're relentless. “Tuk-tuk, suh?”; “No, thank you.” “Tuk-tuk?” (perhaps I changed my mind in the last 5 seconds?); “No, thank you”; “Where you go?”; “Nowhere – just walking”; “I can show you the way.”; “No, thank you.” “But where you go?” “Nowhere – we just like walking.”; “Oh, walking bad!” -- It's fine once or twice, and you try to keep your patience and be polite, but this happens 3 or 4 times on every block, and if you're walking a fair distance, you can imagine the aggravation. Some of them will actually follow you down the block. And don't even think about pulling out your map – it's like pouring honey on yourself in an ant nest. The worst part is that when we did actually want a tuk-tuk, they would provide such poor service and then whined for more money at the end, that we eventually swore them off completely.

The girlie bars are quite depressing as well. I'm writing this after two weeks in Cambodia, and I'm now so sick and tired of seeing fat old “barang” (foreigner) men with 16 year girls in tow – everywhere you go. I'm no prude, but after a while it really is a downer. Maybe I'll feel different about that when I'm fat and 60, but I doubt it. (No offense, Talor!) Obviously it's not limited to the sad, older men – plenty of young lager louts with dolled-up Cambodian girls in tow as well...

The sights in P.P. are underwhelming compared to the color and spectacle of Bangkok. Everything is more drab, worn down and simple. But then you have to remember the history – over 30 years of civil strife, including the reign of the Khmer Rouge, who thought any sign of riches or religion an insult to their agrarian, communist ideology. They destroyed much of the splendor in the royal palace and reduced the the old, majestic colonial buildings to ruin. Tuol Sleng was the ultimate in sobering sights. “S-21” as it was known in the KR days is now a museum and somewhat of a shrine to the 1000's of Cambodians incarcerated and killed there. Walking through the hall of photos, with mug shots of nearly all the victims, was really too much. While Talor sobbed in a quiet corner of the courtyard which had previously been the schoolyard playground, I was approached by two Buddhist monks, asking me if there was anything to compare to this in my country. A difficult question to answer simply...

But P.P. was not all doom and gloom. We did enjoy our stay there, ate some wonderful food (if less spicy than Thai...) and met some incredibly nice people. It's amazing how cheerful, smiling and welcoming they are given the hardships the country's been through. Perhaps they embrace the peace and are happy for what they have now. I do hope that it will last...

Our numerous photos of P.P.:

Phnom Penh, Cambodia

Angkor Wow - AKA Siem Reap

2009-01-24T06:12:00.008-05:00

Talor: After a week in Bangkok, we came up with a loose plan for the next couple of months... first Cambodia to visit Siem Reap and Angkor Wat, then south to Sihanoukville for some beaching (for me) and diving (for E), go a bit east hoping to catch a glimpse of the Dolphins along the Mekong River then make our way north and see what goes on in Laos.

At the advice of a fellow traveler at the Riverline guesthouse, we decided to take the government train to the border, free to Thais and a whopping $1.45 for foreigners for a 6-hour ride. Though the train was packed, the ride was uneventful. Then the hassles began...

It wasn't one of our more pleasant border crossings. Long-story short, we ended up paying $10 more for our visas than we should have and paying about $4 more than we thought we would for a 3-hour shared taxi-ride into the city of Siem Reap. On the bright side, we shared the taxi with a very cool couple, Sebastien and Joy, also traveling Southeast Asia, and the time went quickly as we chatted through the ride.

Siem Reap is a dusty, touristy town where everything seems to exist for the tourist hordes coming to visit Angkor Wat. It is similar to Aguas Calientes and Macchu Picchu, except that the people and prices are friendlier. Found a great little guesthouse, the Red Lodge, where we got a fan room with a private bath for just $7. And it comes with a nice courtyard where there is free coffee/tea, bread and bananas all day. And they provide towels, toilet paper and soap... wow! And the knowledgeable, Mr. Dong, who runs the place, helped us with our planning and transport.

Spent the next three days visiting wats, including Angkor Wat and Angkor Thom. Though it was amazing, and at times, breathtaking, we found ourselves getting “watted-out.” And did I mention it was Chinese New Year? Which meant everything was extra-crowded. And everywhere we went, there were hordes of kids wanting to sell us anything from postcards and cold drinks (useful) to toys and bracelets (not so useful). These kids are not only absolutely adorable, but also absolutely RELENTLESS! Being the suckers that we are, we'd get back at the end of the day (entirely covered in red dust!) and empty our bags of useless knick-knacks we had purchased.

Took a break from the madness by visiting the very interesting, the very tranquil, silk farm where we learned where silk comes from (the saliva of silkworms). Also spent an afternoon taking a tuk-tuk, a motorbike and a boat to the fishing village of Kompong Phhluk, where the houses are built on wooden stilts 7 meters high on the lake.

Realized it was our 365^th day on the road! Ha! Can't believe a whole year has passed and can't believe we haven't killed each other yet. Guess it's going well...

Erik: Yes, the border crossing was very stressful. You need to get a tuk-tuk (3-wheeled scooter carriage) from the train station to the border, but the drivers refuse to take you there until you buy a visa from one of the places that overcharges you. Nice scam. At least we didn't overpay $20 like most of the other tourists we saw...so I guess we were half-savvy, half chumps.

The Angkor ruins are truly amazing despite the crowds. Angkor Wat, the largest religious building in the world, is breathtaking for the sheer vastness of it. You walk through the main gate, and then still have more than a quarter mile to walk to get into the central temple, and the bas-relief sculptures on the wall surrounding it have amazing detail, depicting ancient hindu epic myths. My favorite temple, though, was Bayon in the Angkor Thom complex, with its hundreds of huge sculpted faces staring down at you with mysterious smiles. We were there just after sunrise, so the lighting was dramatic, the air cool, and the tourists sparse.

Despite what we'd heard to the contrary, we found Cambodian food quite tasty – spicy curries and rich amoks (coconut, lemon grass stew), as well as simple cold noodles and refreshing green bean drinks. I was even talked into eating a fried cricket by some friendly Malaysian tourists, and it wasn't too bad.

It was very, very hot and dusty in Siem Reap, and I soon found my long hair a disadvantage. There was an old local barber across the street from our hostel, so I finally took the plunge and got my first haircut in over a year. I went for the dramatic and had him buzz my hair as short as possible. It was a comical scene as neighborhood kids gathered round to see the long-haired “barang” (foreigner) go under the clippers while Talor documented with the camera. There was an enormous pile of long, blonde/gray hair in lap afterwards. What a relief, though. My “hair” dries in 30 seconds now, and no need to break any more brushes trying to untangle it after a shampoo. Talor says that I look like a convict now, but i don't care.

After a few days in Siem Reap, though, we were “watted out” as Talor says. (“wats” are cambodian/thai temples.) We were ready to move on to Phnom Penh, and from there hopefully to the less touristy parts of Cambodia.

Our (way too many) photos of Siem Reap and Angkor:

Siem Reap

Bang for a buck in Bangkok...

2009-01-16T05:07:00.010-05:00

Erik: After a brisk tour of the US to see our families and friends (Portola Valley, CA, which was chilly compared to summer in Chile, Seattle, WA which was only just emerging from a record-breaking cold spell, and New York, NY, which was downright cold), we were ready to get on the road again. South East Asia had been high on my list ever since we'd spent a few weeks in Malaysia and Vietnam two years before. After a good deal of time poorly invested in disorganized research, we'd finally settled on the loosest of itineraries – flying into Bangkok, Thailand and returning from Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia 6 months later. Since we were using my American air miles for the tickets, we were able to organize the ticket only a few days prior to leaving. Everything in between we would decide as we went along. In hindsight, we probably should have invested a bit of that time in finding and reserving a hotel in Bangkok for our first night, especially as we were due to get in about midnight. Oops!

The morning we left it was snowing strongly in New York, which I was quite happy about, as we would really appreciate the balmy, tropical heat once we arrived in Thailand. Our flight was without a hitch – New York to Tokyo (14 hours) on American, and then Tokyo to Bangkok (7 hours) a few hours later on JAL. Man, the Japanese really have us beat on the air travel front – Tokyo Narita is a very nice airport, pure luxury compared to JFK, and JAL is several tiers above American in regards to amenities, service, meals/drinks, etc. It was a nice way to finish such a long flight.

At Bangkok's airport, we easily found a taxi into the city. As we had no hotel reservation, we simply chose a neighborhood in which our guidebook recommended quite a few hostels, which ended up being Banglamphu. We had the taxi drop us off near our first choice hotel, but in the small, dark winding streets, we couldn't find it. (The road was too small for the taxi to take us to the exact address.) Luckily we ran into Phil, a very nice man from Louisiana, who just happened to be walking down the street at 2:30am. He'd lived in Bangkok on-and-off for many years, and knew where the Riverline Guest House was – he was even nice enough to walk us there. Unfortunately there was a “full” sign hanging from the door. Phil didn't leave off there, though. He took us through the back streets of Bangkok, ringing bells at guest house after guest house which either didn't answer or were also full. Finally we found one that had a room available for 330 Baht/night (about $10) Phil thought that price was a bit high but we were exhausted and so thanked him for his help and checked in. Phew!

After only 3 or 4 hours, our jet lag had us wide awake at 7am, which was 7pm NYC time. We went out and found a tiny local cafe/beauty shop, where they offered us fresh coffee for only 10 Baht ($.30). The people were friendly and the coffee strong and delicious. What a find! We ended up going there every morning and often in the afternoon for a Thai iced coffee. Talor even had her hair cut there a few days later.

Not being enamored of our room, we spent that first morning checking out other lodgings in the area, finally arriving back at the Riverline, which now had rooms free. We took an extra-large room with private bath there for $10. Beyond the good price, Riverline also boasted two rooftop patios with river views and a friendly, helpful staff. It also had the firmest mattresses I'd ever felt. I'm pretty certain that the mattress was made of some extremely hard wood, but it was welcome after all the saggy, threadbare ones we'd endured in central and south america.
We spent the first few days in Bangkok in a jet-lagged haze, doing little more than sleeping (always waking up at 3am or so...) and eating delicious and incredibly cheap Thai street food – pad thai, curry, noodle soups, fresh pineapple, etc. Food was everywhere and we sampled a lot of it, usually for $1 or less a plate.

Talor: Took several days to shake the jetlag, but found the best neighborhood to do it in. Though Banglamphu is a very touristy neighborhood, we settled into a nice guesthouse on a quiet street, away from the main drag, surrounded by very friendly shops and eateries. By the second day, we already had a morning routine established... woke up to very strong coffee just around the block at Mrs. Siam's as we wrote our daily pages, then walked around the block gathering up our breakfast (sticky rice, pork patties, rice custard, fruit and juice). Back at the guesthouse, we took breakfast on the outside deck watching the traffic on the river as we planned our day. After breakfast, we'd set out to go sightseeing.

Though Bangkok is big, there are lots of different ways of getting around... a clean and air-conditioned underground metro, a modern skytrain with great views of the city, a huge network of buses (both ordinary and air-conditioned), the river taxis along the water, taxis and tuk-tuks (motorized carriages infamous for trying to rip off tourists). Using different combinations of the above, we managed to get around and cover much ground.

A week went quickly as we spent our days visiting the Grand Palace (where we were blown away by the over-the-top opulence of it), the Kamthieng House Museum, (centuries old traditional Thai house), Chatuchek Market (one of the biggest in Southeast Asia), Chinatown (where the traffic is always at a standstill), and other parks and neighborhoods. The best part? Streetfood, of course. It's everywhere! At anytime! I love it!

For more photos...

Bangkok

A sun shines in Lima...

2008-12-18T18:21:00.015-05:00

Talor: Why do all the planes arrive at the same time? After an uneventful four-hour flight, landed into Lima Airport at 11:00pm and raced to Immigration, hoping to go through quickly. Got there and saw a gazillion people on line... argh! Took us over an hour to get our stamps then went to get our bags, and for some unexplainable reason, the bags from our flight hadn't even come out yet... doube argh! Took us another 45 minutes before we went out to the main terminal where there was sheer chaos as the airport was packed with people at close to 1:00 in the morning. We had made a reservation at the Hostal Iquique to avoid walking around Lima at midnight looking for a hotel. We arranged for transport with the hotel and felt relieved to spot our driver who was holding up a sign with our names on it.

With only three days left on our trip, we decided to relax and spend it in Lima despite not liking it much the last go-around. There were only two things I was hoping for... a bit of sunshine and a nice comfortable place to settle into for the duration. Got lucky with the first as we saw the sun peeking through the fog around 10am the following morning, but not so lucky with the second. In three days, we moved three times... argh again!

Hostal Iquique looked nice when we checked it out online, but was disappointingly small in person. It would have been totally doable if it weren't for the surly staff. During breakfast the next morning, there was ridiculously only one table available for all the guests and after one quick coffee, they were pushing us to leave so the other guests can have their breakfast before we even started eating ours. This was the first time we were faced with out-and-out rudeness in Peru, but I refused to go anywhere until I was ready. So had another cup of coffee while I got dirty looks from the staff and they set up more tables for the other guests. Why didn't they do that before? Afterwards, we packed our bags and left without a thank-you, and headed to the ultra-touristy neighborhood of Miraflores, with upscale hotels, big casinos, fancy shops and expensive restaurants. Though not exactly our style, it is one of the few safe neighborhoods in Lima. Went to the Hostal El Patio and checked into the only room they had available, a double with a teeny-tiny kitchenette. At $50/night, it was the most we'd spent on housing on our entire trip! Ironic that it was in Peru, one of the cheapest countries in South America. Though the room wasn't all that, the common areas were absolutely lovely, and they had a 16-year old dog who, when not napping in the sun, liked to kiss. Unfortunately, they were completely booked up the next day and didn't have a room for us so we were forced to move again... more arghs!

Now we are at our third and final resting place, the Hotel Maria Luisa, where we have a Junior Suite with a mini-kitchenette. There is no common space, but no matter, the two rooms are large and comfortable, so much so that we got takeout pizza and ate it while watching tv... in bed!

On Friday, we finally met Adrian and Jodi, a couple of fellow travelers who we “met” online and had been corresponding with. They were on a similar path as us, but we somehow never managed to meet. They invited us to a party at their friend's house where we spent a fun night drinking rum, dancing and exchanging travel tales.

The rest of the time was all about chilling out and getting ready to go home... well, not home exactly since we'll be homeless for awhile, but just the familiar. Not looking forward to the cold or the culture shock, but can't wait to see the family and friends I've missed for almost a year! Can't believe it's been that long!

Erik: I couldn't believe how rude the staff were at Iquique, and Talor had to restrain me from making some sort of a scene. We'd only had a few hours sleep since we'd gotten in so late, and all I really wanted was a long, relaxing morning of sipping coffee and making plans. What we had was just the opposite. El Patio was very nice, if very expensive, but we still had our slush fund trip savings, and we'd vowed to stop worrying about budgets until we got home (which was the best decision we'd made in a long time.) Moving so often was annoying, but we really had little else we wished to do. I guess we were already in going-home mode and just weren't interested in museums or walking tours. Perhaps we were a bit burned out as well?

It was really funny/strange/exciting to finally meet Adrian and Jodi. Adrian had found our blog online ages back – in Guatemala I believe, and contacted me as we seemed to be following the same path, though Talor and I were a couple of weeks ahead of them. We nearly met up in Granada, Nicaragua, until the heat and strikes drove us off to the corns, so we missed them. How odd that after 11 months of traveling so near each other, that it worked out without any effort to finally meet up 2 days before we went home! The party was fun, and it was great swapping travel stories with them. Turns out we'd both been in the same plaza in Cancun on the same night – perhaps 100 yards apart – way back at the beginning of the trip. I hope we'll keep in touch and that we can meet again soon.

So now, as I write this, we're sitting in our room with 12 hours until our midnight flight back to the states. I'm excited and anxious at the same time. Oddly, I don't feel as if the trip is really ending, and I guess it's not, as we'll still be living out of our packs in cramped quarters in NYC, as our apartment is still sublet for some time. So trip continues, albeit it in much more familiar territory. I hear it's snowing up a storm there now, and here I am in shorts and sandals! It's bound to be a bit of a harsh homecoming...especially as we've no home.
Our final set of photos of photos from this trip. (Bet y'all are relieved!):

Lima (2), Peru

Ciao, Chile!

2008-12-15T17:57:00.011-05:00

Talor: Got off the bus from Valpo and headed straight to Barrio Brazil, and the Hotel Castellana, where luckily we got the same room we had before. With everything being so familiar, it kinda felt like coming home...

The next three days, our last in Chile, flew by as we walked around everywhere enjoying the sunshine, and snacking on smoked cheese, chirimoya ice cream and fresh fruit from the mercado. Spent another fun day with our friends, the Torres'... took them to lunch at the Vacas Gordas where we gorged on steaks, fish and seafood, then visited a sports mall where we saw people surfing on an outdoor pool with waves. Ended the day back at their house chitchatting over ice-cream.

As we boarded the plane and took-off for Lima, I sighed as I thought about all that I would miss... the beauty of the country, the amazing fish in the south, taxi-drivers who don't honk at you, the civilized drivers who actually stop so you can cross the street, drinkable tap water, safe and peaceful towns and cities, kuchen... but above all, the warm and generous hospitality of the people. Hopefully, we'll be back...

Erik: Yes, I was sad boarding the plane for Lima. I was glad, though, as well, that we'd economized well over the months in Peru and Bolivia, and were able to treat ourselves and our friends a little better this time around in chile. We ate well, rented a car, did some organized activities, and had a big, blowout lunch with our friends with pisco sours, wine, steaks, etc. What a great time, especially compared to our last visit in chile, when we ate mostly empanadas and completos because of the sticker-shock of chile's higher prices. How relaxing it was to really indulge and enjoy ourselves without worrying much at all about budgets. It didn't hurt that the sun was out and the trees and plants in bloom, which made exploring santiago a pleasure this visit. To top it all, we really splurged and found a cheap flight to Lima, saving ourselves over 50 hours of tiring bus rides north.

Still, I was sad rather than excited to be going to Lima. Our time was running out, we already knew the city and weren't too infatuated with it – so our few days there were likely to be more of a winding down period rather than a last bit of exciting travel.
Our final set of photos from Santiago:

Santiago (3), Chile

Back to Valpo...

2008-12-11T14:40:00.005-05:00

Talor: After much deliberating, we figured life is short, and though buses are far more economical and eco-friendly, we gotta do what we gotta do... soooo, we decided to take a 4-hour flight from Santiago to Lima rather than spend a week traveling by bus before getting on a plane for home. That meant we only had 6 days left in Chile... doh! How to spend that time... how about a weekend in Valparaiso? We loved it back in August, so we thought it's gotta be even better now that it's Spring and not so cold. Weeeeell....

Took an overnight bus and 14 hours later, we arrived into a city shrouded in fog. Somehow things just don't look as pretty when the sun's not shining. Casa Liesel, where we stayed at before, was full, so we settled into a comfortable enough room with a shared bath at Rincon de Valparaiso. And soon enough, the fog burned off and we set out to visit our favorite places...

First stop, of course, was Kanibal for a completo grande (humongous hotdog topped with sauerkraut, chopped tomatoes and smothered with guacamole). Went to say hello to the cicerones (street dogs) by the bus stop, but they were all too busy napping in the noonday sun. So we grabbed a couple of mini-pies and went to say hello to Maria and Miguel at Casa Liesel. Then in the evening, went to the historic Cinzano's for drinks and the music stylings of old men in formal wear. Had a nice time chatting with Nick, a young British traveler, and Carlos, born and bred in Valparaiso. But the place never filled up with raucous revelers dancing and singing like the last time we were there... o well.

Walked around the next day trying to shake off the hangover, but felt uninspired. Blame it on the piscos the night before or blame it on the fog that didn't burn off until about 3:00 in the afternoon, but for whatever reason, the city just didn't have the magic that we felt the first time around. Maybe it was going from the loveliness of the quaint little towns in the south to a large city, or the comfort of a 3-bedroom cabana to a double with a shared bath. Even the cicerones didn't seem interested in guiding us through the city. Maybe they sensed that we already knew our way around? Don't know, but the next day, the sun never came out so we decided to leave and spend our last few days in Santiago. Ironic, huh? Back in August, we loved Valpo and hated Santiago, but now in December, it's the other way around... who woulda thunk?

Erik: I had my trepidations about returning to Valpo – things you really love the first time around, whether places, food (dare I say people?), are rarely as nice the second. I didn't want our nice memories of valparaiso tainted by a bad visit, but I don't think they were. The city just wasn't new and exciting anymore, which is understandable. The fog didn't help either. Anyway, I still had a good time. The winding-down/return home parts of trips are always the most difficult, and now we have to accept that we'll not be seeing any new places for a while. But man am I looking forward to seeing family, friends and having a slice of NYC pizza...

Valpo round 2 pics:

Valparaiso (2), Chile

On holiday in Puerto Varas...

2008-12-06T14:30:00.009-05:00

Talor: I really hated leaving Chiloe, but time was running out and so we needed to start heading north to avoid the mad dash to the finish line. Our next stop, Puerto Varas, was a 3 ½ hour bus ride away. We read that it was touristy, but after more than a week of inactivity, Erik needed a physical diversion, and PV offers a variety of options from hiking to kayaking to other water sports so we headed there.

At first blush, I didn't like it. Though it was cute, it seemed like it was trying too hard. The main strip was lined with quaint, but very expensive restaurants and tourist shops, and at the end of the drag was a huge modern casino. I guess the city is doing well because everywhere we looked, there were large fancy hotels under construction.

But then we discovered that life up on the hill was somewhat more normal, and prices far more reasonable. Little did we know that it was a holiday weekend (most people we asked couldn't even tell us what the holiday was), and found a lot of places all booked up. The first night we stayed at the German owned Casa Azul that had a Japanese garden and a young, frisky Weimeraner. Though they served up a big breakfast in the next morning, including a delicious muesli and freshly baked multigrain biscuits, the prices they charged for the tiny rooms didn't seem worth it. So we moved onto Erika's and took a bright and cheerful corner room that was absolutely spotless. The next morning, we chatted with Erika over breakfast, drinking coffee and eating her homemade kuchen. And though all was comfortable there, I really wanted to have a kitchen so we moved once again, right across the street, to Cabanas Roller, where we splurged on a 3-bedroom cabana with a living room, a full kitchen and a dining room. We settled in and called it our home for the next 3 days.

With only so many days left before having to return home, we thought let's really go all out and make a proper holiday of it! And so we did... we rented a car and spent a lovely day doing a tour of the sights around Lake Llanquihue. So often during our trip, there were times when we were on a bus or a train, I wanted to stop and explore, but couldn't. With a car, we could do just that. We made up our own tour and stopped and go'ed whenever and to wherever we wanted... what luxury! Made ourselves a picnic then headed out in the cheapest, dirtiest rental car ever!

It was a perfect day as we visited all the little towns around the lake. Our first stop was at the Ensanada Hotel, an antique grand hotel that was more like a quirky museum. Then onto the park at Petrohue where we hiked to the waterfalls. After that, we had a picnic lunch on a deserted black sand beach with a view of Volcan Osorno. Back in the car, we drove up to the bottom of the Volcano with breathtaking views of the lake. Took the secondary roads to the town of Cascadas where we hiked through the woods in search of another waterfall, but never found it. As we drove back, we saw an amazing sunset, then ended the evening with a delicious dinner of fresh fish at La Olla.

Spent the rest of the time just exploring the town and chatting with the friendly folks... walked along the waterfront, picnicked on the beach, drank motes (a refreshing drink made with sun-dried peaches), visited funny little museums, and stopped and smelled the roses... literally. Life is rough, huh?

Before saying good-bye to the South of Chile, we took a bus to the port town of Puerto Montt and spent the day walking around. Headed to the mercado and had a fabulous lunch at Apa where they served up huge portions of eel stew and grilled salmon as we watched the locals casting lines into the water. For dessert, we got a bag of cherries on the way to the main plaza and shared them with a mangy dog who seemed to enjoy them as much as we did. Then headed to the mall where we got online with free wi-fi while indulging in ice-cream at the food court. In the evening, we boarded a night bus for Valparaiso, and I couldn't help feeling sad as we rolled away... sigh.

Erik: Yes, Puerto Varas was very touristy, shiny and new compared to little fishing villages we'd been in. I spent all of 15 minutes in the huge, glitzy casino, but won enough money at blackjack that I didn't feel guilty splurging on an afternoon of “canyoning.” I guess I'm getting old, and adventure sports aren't my main diversion, so I'm not too ashamed to admit that I'd never heard of the “sport” before. Basically, they dress you up in a thick, head-to-toe wetsuit, in which you then hike up a mountainside to get to a remote river gorge. There you don crash helmets and go sliding down rocky river canyons like a water slide, or jump off 40 foot cliffs into the small ponds below. It was fun! And to top it off, we repelled down a waterfall cliff over 180 ft. high. I'd never repelled before, and it was good-and-terrifying as I slid down the thin rope over a high, sheer cliff, only a few feet from a raging waterfall. Talk about adrenaline! The only downside was my stupidity in bringing the camera along. I packed it in a waterbag, but it got a little wet each time i took it out, and by the end it had died on me. Oops. At least we had 2 with us, and the trip is nearly over...

Renting the car was another high point. I hadn't driven in nearly a year, and really enjoyed it – and it was so liberating after 10 months of bus rides. It's a bit rough on the daily budget, but well worth it. Next trip we'll do it more often...

All in all the south of chile is a spectacular place, and we were very sad to leave.

Our pictures from Puerto Varas:

Puerto Varas, Chile

Our photos from Puerto Montt:

Puerto Montt, Chile

Chilling on Chiloe...

2008-12-01T21:27:00.015-05:00

Erik: The first day of December, and we're in the warm, summery weather and long days in southern chile. The further south we go, the longer the days get and the better the weather seems to be. By the time we got to the island of Chiloe, it wasn't getting dark until nearly 10pm, which really threw off our internal clocks. We were eating dinner as it got dark, which seemed normal until we finished dinner and realized that it was time for bed!

The bus ride to the small fishing town of Ancud on the northwestern coast of Chiloe Island took about 4 hours – 45 minutes of which was on a ferry – bus and all – over the island.

We found a cabana (stand alone cabin with kitchen, etc.) in Ancud, which was very nice and one of the more affordable housing options. The town was very small, with little to do except wander the waterfront and surrounding coast, and eat local seafood. We did take a tour over to the penguineras – penguin colonies about an hour away. They were very cute – the first time i'd seen penguins outside of a zoo. Two penguin species shared the small islands on the protected bay – Humboldt and Magelan, though they're quite difficult to differentiate one from the other.

After a few days in Ancud, we grew a little restless and caught a bus even further south to the tiny port town of Chonchi, where there was even less to do! We spoke with the local tourism officer, Nicolas, who was very friendly and recommended that we go out to the national park, about an hour's bus ride away.

The next day we caught the bus out to the park. We took one trail which took us through a dense, subtropical marsh forest – interesting and a bit spooky. After a picnic lunch, we took another short trail out to the beach on the pacific shore. A little ways into that hike we were joined by a very friendly dog who accompanied us the rest of the way out to the beach. It was very hot out, and he would run ahead to the next shady spot along the trail and wait for us there – then run along to the next bit of shade. He reminded us of our “cicerone” dog guides in valparaiso. He accompanied us all the way to the flat beach with roaring surf, where we found a herd of cows lingering. I'm not quite sure why they were there – there was no grazing for them. They were in the middle of a makeshift football pitch on the beach, so it seemed that perhaps they were playing an incredibly slow match of cow soccer.

I couldn't resist the pacific and went for a quick, chilly swim in the water – it was so nice to be back in the ocean again!

As we started to head back, our dog guide came with us a short ways, but then decided he was happy at the beach and plunked himself down in the middle of the only other people on the beach and took a nap – fickle!

Back in town that evening, the city's tourism officer, Nicolas (who'd recommended earlier that we go to the national park) drove past, and stopped to say "hi" and ended up inviting us up to his beautiful house on a hill overlooking the bay. We had drinks, listened to jazz, and discussed chile, korea (he'd travelled there twice), etc. He had a wonderful young dog, Theo, who'd had a mishap with Nicolas's horse and was suffering from broken front leg. Poor thing! There really is nothing to compare to south american hospitality! Gigi's family in Bolivia, the Torres family in Santiago, and Nicolas in Chonchi - how lucky we were to have met all these wonderful, generous people!

I'd hoped to catch the ferry from Chiloe over to Chaiten in Patagonia, but it turns out that service has been canceled because there's an erupting volcano in the way! We could see the huge pillar of ash and smoke from Nicolas's house, which is 100's of miles away. Wow. Oh, well, I'll have to leave the patagonia pin in the map for the next trip!

Talor: I wish you could see what I saw on Chiloe... it is one of the prettiest places I've ever been. The towns of Ancud and Chonchi were cute with modest homes painted in bright colors and lovely gardens with flowers blooming. But just a short distance outside of town, the fields of green and yellow with trees and wild flowers growing everywhere... well, it was simply breathtaking! Though I kept taking photo after photo, they do not begin to show what it was like. Guess I'll just have to remember it all...

Though we took day trips to see the penguins and to the national park, there really wasn't much to do so we wandered around town, watched kids break-dancing by the water, ate really fresh fish and seafood and sampled a whole lotta kuchen. A word about kuchen (pronounced ku-hen), my newest obsession... there's quite the variety, and at times, they are like cake, and at times, like pie. Sometimes they have a creamy middle, but most times not. They're always filled with a layer of fruit (berries, apples, bananas or quinoa). The best are the ones with the crumbly buttery top. And when you get one with just the right combination of pastry to fruit to crumbly top, it is heaven! One of the first orders of business when I get home is to find a kuchen recipe.

Anyway, with friendly locals like Nicolas, who invited us to his beautiful home on a hill for a drink and a chat, we were really enjoying life on the island. I thought, “why don't i live here?” then remembered that it gets bitterly cold in the winter and the months are dark and long... o well, nowhere is perfect. Time to move on...

We have way too many photos of Chiloe...

Isla Chiloe

Good vibes in Valdivia...

2008-11-27T21:00:00.011-05:00

Erik: After our 23 hour trip to Santiago, we thought nothing of a 10 hour bus ride, so we skimped and bought the economical “classico” tickets – where the seats don't recline quite as much. As I'm sure you can guess, that was a bit of a mistake. We couldn't get comfortable, and so had a long night's ride.

Upon arrival in Valdivia, we were approached in the bus station by a woman offering us affordable lodging in her hospedaje. After looking at a few rooms, we decided upon one with a mini kitchenette, and were quite happy until we found one thing after another broken in the room. The bed leaned to one side, the shower dripped loudly and constantly, and the kitchenette sink plumbing kept breaking and leaking. Oh well! We had too little time to look elsewhere, which was a strange feeling for us – the first time we'd really had a deadline looming and couldn't take as much time as we wanted, since we had to be Lima in a few weeks time for the flight home...

At first we weren't too crazy about Valdiivia – it actually reminded us of a suburban american town. But then we went for a sunny walk along the verdant waterfront, found some enormous sea lions lounging near the pier (in fresh water, which is odd. Apparently they're well-fed at the pier market, and so swim up from the ocean for a leisurely vacation.) They sell delicious, cheap smoked salmon and have the freshest fruits, so we ate quite well.

We were in Valdivia during chile's annual telethon for the handicapped – much like the Jerry Lewis telethon, but much bigger, with the entire country tuning in to watch, and all the cities and towns hosting free concerts, etc. It's a really important event for them. One night we wandered downtown to have a drink, and ended up in La Bomba, a little firefighter's dive bar, where we watched the telethon with the locals and got quite drunk on beer and pisco (well, I did!) We met some wonderful locals – Hardy, an older man well-dressed in a wool suit, very polite and friendly. Jaime and Jose, younger men full of local advice for us (Jose seemed very interested in Talor, and wouldn't let go of her hand), and Cristal, an overly-friendly and overly-drunk woman who kept hugging us both and kissing me all over my face. We had a great time until the 3^rd pisco told me that it was time to go home...

The next day we took a bus to the nearby port town of Niebla, where we took short ferry rides to small ports and nearly-uninhabited islands around the bay. The area reminded me of the sounds around seattle- green islands with steep hills overlooking the clear blue, cold waters of the bay and the ocean beyond. But the colonial german houses and old spanish forts and castles constantly reminded us that we were in chile, nowhere near home. We were very lucky to be there in late spring, with wonderful weather and landscapes boasting every shade of green, broken up only by the clear waters or blooming flowers. It was breathtakingly beautiful.

As much as we were enjoying valdivia, we knew that we should move on to experience other areas of southern chile. For our next stop, we decided on the island of Chiloe, much further south and just off the coast of Patagonia...

Talor: Valdivia is a strange mish-mash of old and new, but I really liked it. Has an old small town feel to it, but then we'd see these modern supermarkets and department stores next to antiquated homes. Cross the bridge and the landscape changes to rolling green fields with farm houses and cows grazing. And the waterfront was beautiful with clear blue waters perfect for a morning run.

We visited the market where we picked up yummy smoked salmon, and gorgeous fruits and vegetables. That evening, made a nice pasta dinner in our mini-kitchenette, and felt good to sit down to a meal we had prepared ourselves. It had been forever since we'd cooked anything and I realized how much I missed it. It's funny to think that throughout our travels, having a kitchen has become the ultimate luxury!

Could have stayed longer, but time is running out, so onto Chiloe...

To see more photos of Valdivia...

Valdivia, Chile

Return to Santiago...

2008-11-24T20:37:00.002-05:00

Erik: In the end, the bus ride wasn't nearly as bad as I'd feared. They showed movie after movie, including such greats as “Big Moma's House”, “Free Willy” and “The Golden Compass”, all dubbed in spanish, of course. Our seats were comfortable enough and we did manage to sleep a bit. Early on the Atacama desert was impressive, but a bit too reminiscent of bolivia and peru. Then after several hours we saw the pacific ocean on the horizon – a very welcome sight! I managed to sleep a good few hours, and the next morning we awoke to see not only the ocean, but green landscapes – a bright, wonderful change from the dust and brown mountain vistas of peru.

In santiago we already knew our way around a bit, and found a nice hotel with an “affordable” apartment-suite complete with kitchenette. After the very simple food of the salar trip, and the incredibly chewy beef of peru and bolivia, I was craving a good steak, so we splurged and went to a very nice grill restaurant nearby and had a huge meal of steak, potatoes and good chilean wine. That combined with a good night's sleep, and the batteries were fully recharged.

The next day we'd arranged to meet our friends Patty and Marco Torres, who we'd met in Mendoza, Argentina. We found them at the Plaza de Armas the next day at noon, and they took us via the very modern and technologically sophisticated metro (subway) and bus lines to their home, where we met up with their kids, Belen and Martin. Patty prepared a delicious lunch of pasta and roast chicken, and Marco opened up a nice bottle of wine. Only a few days in chile, and we were living well!

We spent the entire day with the Torres – visiting a local park, and then to Patty's parents' house for “onces” (afternoon tea.) What a wonderful day. We're very lucky to have such hospitable and generous friends.

Our first visit to santiago had been in august – the heart of winter, and we'd not found it terribly pretty nor pleasant. What a difference a season makes – now santiago was sunny with green trees and blossoming flowers everywhere. We really enjoyed just walking around and visiting the small parks that dot the city. It proves just how wrong first impressions can be.

After a few days, though, we were eager to move on to the south of chile, which according to everyone we spoke to is one of chile's most beautiful areas. Marco Torres is from the southern lake district town of Valdivia, and after talking with him a bit, we decided that it should be our next stop. It was a good 10 hours away, so we bought tickets on yet another night bus...

Talor: After days spent in the desert, Santiago was such a welcome change with everything in bloom. What luxury to be able to go for a run in the morning (on paved asphalt!), pick up provisions for breakfast, and dine on fresh baked bread, rich delicious cheese and luscious fruit in season, including my favorite, the chirimoya! Erik is right, what a difference a season makes! Made the 23-hour bus ride worthwhile.

Chileans are known for their hospitality and rightly so. The day we spent with Patty, Marco and family was just lovely. They welcomed us into their homes and prepared delicious meals for us as we chatted and got to know each other better. It was the best welcome back!

Our photos of Santiago...

Santiago, Chile

San Pedro de Atacama

2008-11-22T20:17:00.006-05:00

Erik: The end location on our Salar de Uyuni tour was San Pedro de Atacama, in Chile. San Pedro is a small village oasis in the middle of the Atacama desert, supposedly the driest desert in the world. There really isn't much to the town beyond the pretty main square and old, adobe church. The town seems to live for tourism – people drawn to explore the desert or the bolivian salt flats which we'd just arrived from. Virtually all the restaurants in town catered to tourists, and the prices for everything – from lodging, to food, to services, were greatly inflated. Talk about sticker shock! We went several months in peru and bolivia, two of the most affordable countries in south america, to one of most expensive towns in the most expensive country in south america. A night's stay jumped from $10 for a nice room with private bath, to $40 for a dumpy cubicle with shared bath. Ouch!

There was little to keep us in San Pedro, but that night we did have a festive farewell dinner with the gang from the salar tour, as well as friendly and fun Ilse from belgium who we'd met along the way. The next day we bought tickets to santiago, a frightening 23-hour bus ride away. While waiting for the afternoon bus, we were lucky enough to find one of the only affordable dining spots in town, a little BBQ shack near the football (soccer) field, where we had huge helpings of delicious grilled chicken for about $3 – the perfect send off before our longest bus ride yet.

To see our photos...

San Pedro de Atacama, Chile

Salar de Uyuni Tour

2008-11-20T19:42:00.018-05:00

Erik: The next morning at 10:30am we headed to our tour agency to leave on the 3-day jeep tour. As usual, we waited an hour or so for them to get organized, etc. During the wait, we got to know our travel companions for the next 3 days; Stefan and Simone, a lovely Swiss couple, Mateas from Lyon, France (who reminded me much of my friend Eric Philips in Paris) and Gwil from Vancouver. We were very lucky, as everyone was interesting, considerate, and generally fun. We were all in the same position, having quit our jobs for longer-term travel - and our 3 days in the landcruiser passed quickly and remarkably painlessly. We'd really had great luck-of-the-draw, as your fellow passengers on a trip like this could make-or-break the experience.
The first day's long, hot drive included a visit to the train cemetery, with 20 or so rusting old steam engines and freight cars. From there, we were on to the salt "museum", mainly a tourist-trinket outlet with some interesting sculptures, furniture and entire buildings built in salt from the salar.
Then on to the salar itself, which is thousands and thousands of square miles of flat, white (well, gray from the tourist traffic) salt - from the time when the pacific ocean reached into these high altitudes. We visited a hotel made completely of salt, and then much further on, lunched at "Isla Pescado" - "Fish Island" - a small hillock of huge cacti in the middle of the great white nowhere. We munched on llama steaks and then were taught a course in salt-flat photography by Gwil: shots using the harsh light and never-ending horizon to create plays on perspective - good for a few hours fun before piling back in the landcruiser to continue for several more hours, and one flat tire, to our resting place for the night in San Pedro de Quemes - a small desert village. We dined and play cards together until the lights went out...
Next day we were up at 6am, and after showers and breakfast, off at 7. We passed an active volcano, fields of razor-sharp lava and huge rock formations. We'd left the salt flats at this point and were passing through the driest desert in the world...very, very slowy! After lunch by a salt pond full of pink flamingos, we visited the "world famous" large stone tree, and another bizarre rock formation full of small, long-tailed rabbit-like creatures called vizcachas - a good spot to rock climb and stretch the legs. We finished off the day with a visit to laguna colorada - a bright red lagoon with many bright-pink flamingos. Finally we arrived at our spot for the night - a way station full of 20 or so groups just like ours, each piled into separate dorm rooms. We drank beer and wine and continued our card games until lights out.
Next morning up at 4am (argh!) and off to the geysers for some pre-dawn, freezing cold steam walking. This was the coldest we'd been in all our 10 months of travel, but the landscape was so spooky-cool, it was worth it - bubbling mud craters, sulferous steam jets - all in the eerie, early-morning light. Until we could no longer feel our toes...Luckily our next stop was a thermal hot spring where we hopped in the water and regained feeling in our appendages after 20 minutes or so. We had a quick breakfast there before heading on to laguna azul - "blue lagoon" which was less impressive than the red lagoon the day before. (better in the afternoon, they say!) After that, we arrived at the Chilean border. After passing through bolivian immigration we boarded a nice, clean bus and crossed into Chile, where we were immediately met by smooth, paved roads - hooray!

Talor: Though throughout our three days of desert travel, we saw some crazy cool, amazing terrain, after awhile, it became one big blur as we went from sight to sight, climbing in the car, climbing out of the car, in-and-out, in-and-out. The highlight for me was definitely getting to know our travel mates, a diverse international group from very different backgrounds that played nice and shared well. We had great fun swapping stories and exchanging travel tips. And when it was time for us to say good-bye and go our separate ways, I thought to myself, "Hope we'll stay in touch..." Thanks guys for a really great time!

To see more photos of our tour...

Salar De Uyuni Tour, Bolivia

Slow train to Uyuni

2008-11-18T16:57:00.009-05:00

Erik:
The whole point of our going to Oruro was to take the train to Uyuni, the starting point for organized tours of of the Salar (salt flats) of Uyuni and surrounding desert landscapes. Once again, the thought of avoiding another long bus ride by taking a relaxing train ride was too tempting to pass up.

The train was scheduled to leave at 3:30pm. We say "scheduled" as, yet again, we were caught in the midst of a transit strike, though train travel was not supposed to be affected by the strike, only buses. We'd arrived a bit early for the train (as there's not much to do in Oruro), and we found ourselves seated in the one full-to-overflowing car of the train. Kids under 5 travel free on the train, but without their own seats, and our car seemed to be both sold out and with an extra serving of kids-sans-seats. It was bustling in the aisles and oh so noisy!

The car next to ours was oddly empty, so we planned to move into seats there as soon as the train pulled out, but to our surprise, it didn't. I've never seen a train wait for late passengers, but that's exactly what ours did - over an hour. I guess that leaving with less than half the passengers (all stuck in buses trying to by-pass the strikers) wasn't appealing, and a bit after 4:30pm, we saw about 30 or 40 more backpack-toting gringos arrive and pile on board. Luckily, they all seemed headed for 1st class, and the car next to ours remained nice and nearly empty. We took new seats there as the train finally pulled out.

The ride itself was beautiful - at least the daylight portion, which had been shortened an hour due to the late departure. We passed salt marshes full of pink flamingos in flight, tiny villages with waving children, desert landscapes tinted bright red by the fading sun. Really quite stunning. A few hours later, though, it was just a dirty, dusty, dark train showing terrible movies. We read books for a while, then moved to the dining car where we drank beer and played cards until our arrival about midnight (an hour late...)

We then had the joy of shuffling through 3 hotels before finding one with running water. We slept well, and wandered the town the next day talking to tour agencies about the trip through the salar to chile. There are over 60 tour agencies (and not much of anything else) in Uyuni, but we found a local guy who ran a bar as well as tourist information center, who helped us narrow it down to 3 better agencies. The tour is a 3 day landcruiser ride through the salt flats and desert. They pack 6 of you in the vehicle along with a driver and a cook, so it's quite important to get a good vehicle, and hopefully, an even-keeled, friendly group of fellow tourists. In the end, after much back-and-forth haggling, we did just that. To celebrate, we went out to a "gourmet" pizza parlour in town, which for once, lived up to its hype - it was delicious.
Our photos from the trip to Uyuni:

Uyuni, Bolivia

The mining town of Oruro...

2008-11-16T18:36:00.010-05:00

Erik: From Cochabamba, our next stop was the old mining town of Oruro, from where we could catch a train south. After so many hours in so many cramped buses, the idea of a train ride was very welcome, and worth a small side trip.

Unfortunately, Oruro itself is not much of a town. It does have a pleasant, pretty main square, surrounded by an odd mix of modern and colonial architecture, but outside of that it is a dusty, polluted altiplano town without terribly much to do or see. Again we ran into an issue trying to find lodging. There were cheap, very basic, dingy digs, and expensive higher-end options outside our budget, but very little in between. At first we opted for one of the cheapo options until we noticed that the plumbing in the bathroom didn't quite work, so we ran across the street to a much more upscale option. We'd been lugging our packs across the city for hours at this point, and it was raining on-and-off, and we just wanted to relax. The price was a bit exploitive for what they offered, but the bed was big and comfortable and the bathroom clean, so we bit the bullet and checked in.

The next morning we bought train tickets for the following day, and then wandered the city looking for things to do. We found an old miner's museum housed in a defunct mine shaft, which proved interesting, especially the idols of the miner's god “Tio” (“uncle”), which is a sort of devil character to whom the miners make offerings of booze, cigarettes and coca leaves for good luck.

We also took a short ride out to some thermal baths (a glorified warm swimming pool) for a soak, and met some very friendly Pacenas (La Paz residents) on the way back. They had Korean friends in La Paz and enjoyed trying out their little bit of Korean lingo on Talor.

We'd read about a fancy “cordon bleu”-esque restaurant in Oruro, and went there that evening to spoil ourselves with some fancy dining. The restaurant itself was nothing special, with décor similar to the comedores we'd been having our cheapo lunches in everyday. Still, we thought we'd give it a try, and were perusing the Bolivian menu when the gruff waiter stepped up, yanked the menu out of our hands and replaced it with an english-language menu with fewer food options and higher prices! We asked him about the differences between the menus, to which he lied, saying they were the same. We walked out after that, and had a nice dinner in a local , much cheerier pizzeria for half the price!

Talor: I have found that oftentimes the trying moments happen for a reason and almost always something good comes out of it...

Moment 1: After over an hour of walking around in the rain searching for accommodations, we grew increasing frustrated and were cursing the town. Then we settled on the Hotel Respotero, where we had one of the most comfortable beds for a great night's sleep.

Moment 2: Returning from the hot springs of Obrajes, we boarded the last micro (mini-van) returning to Oruro. We stuffed ourselves into the only seat available that was large enough for a school child, smiling at the 15 others already crammed into a car with a maximum capacity of 8. But then the 40-minute ride passed really quickly because we had fun chatting with the young and energetic Rose from La Paz. We spoke in three different languages (Spanish, English and Korean!), took photos of each other and exchanged emails to stay in touch.

Moment 3: Finding dinner that night was quite the chore... we passed on the chi-chi restaurant Erik talked about then proceeded to look up two others that were either not there anymore or were closed. Hungry and tired, we settled on the Salteneria La Casona, which turned out to be a warm and hospitable place that served up a huge chicken omelette, both filling and delicious... ahhhh.

After those happy moments, we were ready to board a train to Uyuni...

Photos of Oruro...

Oruro, Bolivia

Wonderful hospitality in Cochabamba...

2008-11-13T18:34:00.007-05:00

Talor: Arrived into Cochabamba in the early evening after a seven-hour bus ride that got in late due to some drama (argh!). We were feeling dehydrated and disoriented, and as we were getting our bags, a woman tapped Erik on the shoulder and asked if he was Erik. What a lovely surprise! It was Julie, Gigi's mom! We had planned on calling her after we got settled into a hotel, but apparently, Rosita (Julie's sister) had called to say we were coming, and she waited for us at the bus terminal for two hours... yikes! She had a hotel picked out for us, walked us there, and even came up to the room to make sure everything was alright! And so began her hospitality...

Thought La Paz was supposed to be the culinary capital of Bolivia, but we spent the next day eating the most delicious saltenas (famous in Cochabamba), rellenas (stuffed potatoes) and cheesebreads. But the best meal of all was dinner at Julie's house, where she lovingly prepared Silpanchos, a traditional dish of rice and potatoes with a thinly breaded chicken cutlet, two fried eggs and topped with tomatoes and onions... mmm, mmm, MMMM!! We were joined by the lovely Marcela, an old college buddy of Gigi's for dinner. And after we were so full we couldn't eat anymore, Julie broke out into a dance, and we all worked off the food dancing to salsa music from one of Dean's (Gigi's husband's) CD. It was a wonderfully fun evening!

The following day, we invited Julie out to lunch at La Contanata, supposedly the best Italian restaurant in Bolivia. Miriam, another one of Gigi's friends, joined us, and though the food was good, the best part was spending time with them. Afterwards, Miriam drove us to see the impressively large statue of Christ (larger than the famous one in Rio, Brazil!) up on a hill. Then it was time to say good-bye... sigh. We felt so sad to leave, but at least we got Julie to promise to come and visit us in NY in August next year.

Before leaving the next morning, we had one last good meal at a Korean/Japanese restaurant. Though not terribly traditional, I was happy to get my kimchi-fix, and was ready to move on after gaining 15 pounds in two days!

But more than the food, it is the hospitality that we will remember... Thank you Julie, Marcela and Miriam! And Gigi, thank you again for putting us in touch with your wonderful family and friends!

Erik: Cochabamba is a pretty city, known as the city of eternal spring for its year-round temperate climate. Of course, luck being as it may, we were there for some rare but much-needed rain, and even a freak wind storm. Still, we had plenty of sun as well, and enjoyed walking around the city's scenic, tranquil plazas full of trees in bloom and lounging locals.

I was overwhelmed by Julie's hospitality, and was kicking myself after she met us at the bus terminal, as we'd meant to call her before boarding the bus, but didn't have time. (We were rushed aboard the bus in La Paz, then, of course, sat and waited 15 minutes for it to leave!)

Dinner and dancing at Julie's home was so much fun, and she and Marcela were gracious hosts, and very patient with our mediocre spanish. Julie has been raising rabbits in her front yard, and we got to watch her feed all 10 of them (after feeding us) as we waited for a taxi. They were incredibly cute, and we were very happy to have been served silpancho rather than rabbit that evening...Yes, thank you Julie, Marcela and Miriam for such overwhelming hospitality, and we hope to see you all again soon.

To see more photos...

Cochabamba, Bolivia

A room with a view in Coroico...

2008-11-10T18:32:00.010-05:00

Erik: We decided to take a short side trip to the little mountain village of Coroico – we'd read good things about the laid-back, relaxing lifestyle there, the beautiful mountain vistas, and the temperate, high-altitude jungle climate. To get to Coroico, we had to travel down “The world's most dangerous road,” a winding, mountainous descent which to us seemed far less dangerous than the tiny, cliff-hanging dirt roads we'd suffered through the mountain passes in Peru. Still, despite that being said, I did count over 15 road-side memorial shrines on the road to Coroico before our passage was socked in by a fog so thick that we couldn't see the cars in front of us. The fog added to the anxiety of the trip, but in the end, the world's most dangerous road wasn't all that (which we were quite happy about.)

Coroico sits along the side of a fairly steep hill, overlooking a river valley far below. We lugged our packs up and down hills looking for a decent hotel, but everything we found was either very basic or ultra-luxury (the town depends largely on tourism). As the basic lodgings were over-priced, we finally opted for the upscale Hotel Bella Vista, aptly named for the panoramic views from full-wall windows of the rooms. We had an absolutely breathtaking view of the mountains and valley from our bedroom. As it turned out, we paid mostly for that view – the other amenities of the hotel were a bit lacking, but the afternoons spent gazing out our window at the soaring hawks and river valley were worth the price.

There was very little to do in Coroico. There were some interesting hikes on offer, but they required a full day with a guide, and we were only planning on a short stay, and decided to simply relax. We found a little restaurant offering swiss fondue, which seemed such an oddity that we needed to try it. The Bolivian cheeses they used actually weren't that bad. We never felt that we were in a swiss alp ski chalet, but we enjoyed the meal – a nice change from the typical bolivian fare we'd been eating.

We found the people in Coroico a bit stand-offish, perhaps because the town gets so many tourists. We were happy, though, that the dogs were much friendlier, always wanting to play and share their fleas with you. After a day and a half, though, we were ready to head back up to the world's most dangerous road to La Paz, from where we could continue on to Cochabamba, where Rosita's sister, Julie, lived. (Julie is the mother of our friend Gigi in Seattle.) We spent one more night in La Paz, and were happy to be able to share a great meal with Rosita in one of La Paz's oldest restaurants.

Talor: Though the views at the Hotel BellaVista were simply magnifico!, the non-existent services and the surly staff made the stay unpleasant. We were happy to get back to La Paz and the rundown Hotel Torino, where we paid a third of the price for the accommodations, but which came with a hot shower and a friendly staff who welcomed us back.

The dinner with Rosita was definitely a highlight! We searched high and low for an appropriate gift for her, but all we found were Bolivian tourist trinkets so we settled on one of our silly momentos from Peru (a hand-woven couple with traditional clothes) and took her out to dinner. Of course, before we said good-bye, she presented us with the most thoughtful gifts... a set of antique silver spoons wrapped in a beautiful woven cloth and tied with ribbons representing the Bolivian flag and a book from the Bolivian International Film Festival... WOW! But more than anything else, we really enjoyed spending time with her. Muchas gracias Rosita!
Below is a link to our Coroico photos:

Coroico, Bolivia

Lucky in La Paz...

2008-11-06T18:30:00.012-05:00

Talor: Unlike most capital cities, I really liked La Paz. It's a nice mix of old and new, both touristy and not, and can be pricey and economical at the same time. Situated in a valley, we rolled into town with views of the city built on hills . It reminded me of Valparaiso, Chile, but bigger. The bus dropped us off at the Cemetery, where we were greeted by a nice member of the tourist police, who promptly put us into a taxi towards the center of town. Thank you Officer!

We were lucky to find a room at the Hotel Torino, which is situated just off the Plaza Murillo. Although considered the center of town, it wasn't too touristy. The Torino is an old, slightly worn building that houses an art museum and a cultural center in the courtyard. Our room on the 4^th floor, though it had seen better days, was airy and got great light. With a hot shower and a firm foam mattress, it was a bargain at $11/night. And as an added bonus, we got to see shows going on at the cultural center by sneaking up to the balcony!

We also got lucky with the weather. Sunny and warm during the daytime and mild in the evenings, we set out to explore the city, and got great exercise huffing and puffing up and down the hills. Found some cool little museums to check out, including the Museum of Musical Instruments where they had an impressive collection of instruments from all around the world, some of which we had fun playing. At the Coca Museum, we read the interesting role coca played in the Bolivian culture and history. And at the Witches' Market, I was totally grossed out by the dried llama fetuses!

We got lucky with the food too... along the Prado (the main drag), we found great snacks... pizza by the slice, gyros and delicious coffee ice cream at Bits and Cream. There was also higher-end international food to be had... pretty good Asian food at Thai Old Town and super-spicy curry at the British Indian Curry House. But my favorite food, hands-down, has gotta be the Bolivian saltena (originally from Salta, Argentina). Similar to an empanada, they are filled with potatoes, peas. carrots, sometimes hard-boiled eggs and olives and bits of chicken or meat, and these little guys are tasty! Slightly sweet on the outside, savory on the inside, it is best eaten on the street bent over because the juices squirt everywhere when you bit into them. When slathered with a spicy peanut sauce, they make the best breakfast or snack anytime of day.

But the best luck of all was getting to meet and spending several hours with Rosita, Gigi's Aunt, who lives in La Paz (thank you Gigi for the introduction!). We had a lovely evening at the Cafe Marbella, chatting while sipping tea and eating pie. Before saying good-bye, she gave us departing gifts, mementos from La Paz. How sweet! How lucky!

Erik: Yes, the tourist police welcome was warm – I guess that the cemetery isn't the safest part of town for the buses to be dropping off tourists. In fact, a funny thing happened on the way to the cemetery (and La Paz...) It was about a 3 ½ hour ride from Copacabana. We were told that we'd need to get off the bus about ½ way and take a ferry across another part of Lake Titicaca. We naturally imagined we'd get off our bus, take the boat, and board another bus on the other side. When, we arrived, though, I went to fetch our backpacks, and was told not to bother. I was confused by this, until as we boarded our “ferry” (really a tiny boat built for 6 or so that 20 of us were stuffed into), that I saw our bus backing up onto a tiny barge, hardly wider than the bus itself. I have no idea how the tiny platform supported a large tourist bus, but I was very happy to be crammed into our tiny boat rather than riding on the bus floating on that tiny, motorized float. Despite my fears, the bus stayed afloat just fine, we re-boarded, and were soon in La Paz.

The next day we took advantage of La Paz's cosmopolitan nature, and took in a film – the new James Bond film, “Quantum of Solace”, which had just opened that day. We had no idea that the plot of the film revolved around a new Bolivian revolution, and that much of it was took place in La Paz and the surrounds. Small world, indeed! (Turns out the Bolivian scenes were actually filmed in Chile and Panama!)

Meeting Rosita was a real pleasure – a sophisticated woman, self-taught in French (which came in handy a few times during our conversation), and simply a warm, caring woman. We hope to return soon and see her again and reciprocate her great hospitality.

Despite all the warnings we'd received to the contrary, we felt safe and comfortable in La Paz, and enjoyed a relaxing, rejuvenating stay there.

Our photos of La Paz...:

La Paz, Bolivia