It's not a shameful thing

to be a dreamer.

How can we reach the stars if our feet are stuck on the ground?

I decided today

that things like tax time and IRS forms shouldn't utterly piss me off, instead they should warm my heart. They should remind me that equal-opportunity employment is alive and well in the USA. Think about it - IRS, SSA, L&I, ESD... - doesn't trying to accomplish anything on these agencies' websites prove that the government hires more than its fair share of 'gifted' people?

it's not what it looks like

The other day I went to meet a friend for breakfast. As I was walking across the road I looked up and thought, What the heck, he looks like the Unabomber! As I approached he said, "How d'you like my costume - can you tell who I am?" I'd forgotten that it was Halloween. There were a few people dressed up in town, a lot who weren't, and then quite a few that I wasn't sure about. Around here sometimes it's hard to tell.

For my part I went dressed up as a mall-goer. Ok I didn't actually dress up, but I did go to the mall to pick up a few things after breakfast. The very idea of me being in a shopping mall lends itself to Halloweeny weirdness, no less because I was actually shopping for girl stuff. But the best costumes I saw were on a pair of fellas subtly dressed as mall photographers. They had a couple of cameras set up in front of a silly spooky background, with signs all around inviting people to have their pictures taken. But they weren't fooling anybody - at least not me. The one guy was big with white hair, a perfectly groomed white beard and a jolly round belly. His helper was kind of a little guy with red hair and a red beard. They may have put a lot of effort into their plain-clothes disguise, but it was pretty clear that I was looking at Santa and one of his elves. Nice try, guys.

Even the bus was dressed up. There was caution tape wrapped around the poles at the entrance like some kind of hazard scene, and the driver was handing everyone candy as they entered. From my seat I noticed a big foil eyeball balloon behind the driver that kept swiveling 'round and leering at everyone through the glass partition.

But anyway, Halloween's like sooooo four days ago. Today's the real doom-and-gloom event, Election Day. All these people walking around with "I Voted" stickers proudly stuck on their lapels, last-minute desperados waving signs for one party or the other outside of our shop all dang day long notwithstanding the sometimes pouring rain, or taking advantage of the last few days to sport those buttons and stickers with their favorite candidate's name: 'McPaaaaalin'.... 'O-baaaaaa-ma'. Is it too harsh to suggest sheep here? (I'm happy to be an Epsilon, the Alphas have such horrid uniforms.) I'm not sure how people can so vehemently support either one of the parties when they're practically the same and totally contrived. It's like they flip a coin to decide who will take which side on what issue with no rhyme or reason. There's no 'good' party or 'bad' party. They're all schmucks!

Seriously some things just don't make sense. Why do people either value adult life or unborn life? Isn't there anyone against war and abortion? Doesn't anyone want to save the babies and the whales? Why should we have to choose between one life and another? How about environmental policies? Why do the people who claim to believe in a Creator seem to think that they can do whatever they want to His creation, and yet those who insist that the world is a purposeless product of random chance also believe that we should protect it at all costs? If you were friends with a great artist who chose to put his masterpiece in your house, wouldn't you do everything in your power to preserve it? But if there was a fluke waterspot on your wall that just happened to look interesting, would you really hang onto it? Or why do the people who vocally tout brotherly love simultaneously rant that their hard-earned and supposedly well-deserved dollars shouldn't be spent on the 'undeserving' in our midst... yet those who claim that there's no such thing as right and wrong, those who become furious at the thought of anyone meddling in anyone else's life, also believe that we should have systems in place to help take care of those less fortunate? When did capitalism become the manifest destiny of the world? When did 'every man for himself' become one of the ten commandments, or when did 'an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth' get reinstated? And while I'm at it, why did this country's founders fight so hard to separate themselves from England, yet its citizens are now diabolically devoted to enforcing English as the only language? Everything is a contradiction - doesn't anyone stand for just-plain good or just-plain bad?!

And should I even get started on our very un-democratic two-party system? You know there's no hope of anyone coming into office that's not a member of one of the two at-heart virtually identical parties. How is this even a choice? 'You can choose Candidate A or Candidate B. Now go, vote, citizens!' Oh yeah, just don't pay attention to the thought that in the big election your vote doesn't actually count. Sure it may persuade some electorates to do what the masses want, and it rallies everyone's fervor for their country while they watch the farcically premature 'results' sweep across the nation, but it's not real!!!!!!!!!! The Electoral College doesn't vote till December, and (or so word has it) while the members are pledged to vote for certain candidates, there's no law that prevents them from changing their minds? Does this mean that we could go on believing for two months that we have such-and-such new president, only to find in January when the real results are released that it's actually his opponent??? The commentaries offer some assurance that it's very uncommon and unlikely that the government goes against the will of the people, as if this makes it ok. (It's only happened 3 times?) And if for some reason there's not a true majority vote for one candidate or another, no worries, the House will just decide for you! Yikes.

I'm not saying that it's a totally hopeless system or without its merits or reasons, just that if you're going to go touting yourself as the most free, most democratic, of-for-and-by-the-people land on this whole ball of dirt, God's gift to the human race because of your highly enlightened total superiority to everything that breathes, maybe it's time question the veracity of those claims.

And lest I sound like a total cynic, I do still believe there's hope for the local election. So long as the majority of people in your region agree with you, and the authorities don't overturn the decision after the people have spoken, you can still make a difference locally. Hey, you take what you can get.

Well I'm off to watch more election results. All the networks declared the winning governor based on a 4% margin and less than half of the votes counted. Is this a joke? In the meantime while mail-in ballots continue to make their way to wherever they get counted, we've been assigned a new president.

Happy election day. Oh wait, that's not till December.

Notes from the Pinat- Gallery

Oh my goodness, check out these quotable quotes from downwithpinatas.com. And to all the pinataphobes out there I apologize in advance for making fun of your plight. Wait I take that back, no apology, just thanks... for the laughs!

If you have children in collage, please speak with them about the dangers of sex and drug pinata parties.

We lost our beloved parrot, Polly, to pinata violence.

The average age of a perpetrator who engages in pinata related violence: 8.

You are 10 times more likely to be the victim of pinata related violence than a terrorist attack.

Of course it was a pull string pinata. Joke was on my family, but they liked the candy.

I understand the concept of schadenfreude, but is someone getting a bat to the genitals really all that funny? Watch for yourself. I'm sure you'll laugh, but in the back of your mind, remember that you are witnessing real pain.

This bit of news caught my eye. And gladdened my heart. Major Hollywood studios are finally cracking down on the illegal use of their intellectual property in the creation of unlicensed pinatas!

I was informed today that the proper name for a store that primarily sells pinatas is a "pinataria." Now I'll be sure to describe it correctly when asking others to join me in picketing a pinataria.

I wanted to take a moment to reinforce that I have nothing against Mexicans, my uncle is married to one and I have half Mexican cousins. I just don't like their violent sports and festivities like pinata bashing.

Every time someone sends me a link like this one I know in my soul that I'm doing God's work by spreading the word about the dangers of pinata related violence.

Contradictions of Fall

Today is the kind of day that heals the soul. The first day of Fall, in all its bright optimism, a crisp cool sky with sun shining abundantly through the forgiving clouds. The chill in the air is inconsequential compared to the freshness it carries. It's the kind of day that makes you remember what it's like to breathe deeply.

Today is also the first day that I went to work in the dark, which makes it the first of a long season of coming and going by night like some secretive cave dweller. The rain was minimal enough, if not for its clearly being the forerunner to many dark wet mornings. Hoping the bus will see me instead of speeding past down the hill. Hoping it comes soon enough that myself and my belongings don't get totally soaked. Waiting for the bus often feels like the longest part of the commute, whether or not it comes anywhere close to actual travel time.

Yesterday the PSE bill came with an insert about where our energy is coming from. They seemed very pleased to announce that they are "working" to secure 10% of their power supply from renewable sources by 2013 and 15% by 2020. I guess that means that in another 12 years they'll still be getting 85% of their energy from non-renewable resources much like today's line-up: Hydro 42%, Natural Gas 19%, Nuclear 1%, Other 1%, Coal 37%. Coal, seriously. At least with the plunging economy we've got potential for a Dickens-esque backdrop to add a little romance to the hard times.

I've got an African/Latin/Jazz mix going on the shop stereo - Hugh Masakela's work of art Stimela, Brubeck's classic Take Five... and so very much work to do.

six things

now that it's all over and nobody's reading anymore, a list for my own benefit of good things about seattle: i can think of six.

family

    friends

         water

              trees

                   live music

                        kexp

right now the kexp dj is playing a 3-hour set entirely made up of songs that are 2 minutes and under.

I think I have a travel hangover.

It's been a busy couple of weeks, jumping straight into working at Scotty's kick-ass new shop. Time has been flying by, but the distraction is more than welcome; the few times that I've had a minute to think about my own life and what the heck I'm supposed to do now, it gets a little depressing. The trough after the big wave. After over a year of every day being the realization of some goal, going back to the suspended animation of the great Washington holding tank is more than a little anti-climactic. Fortunately I've got someone else's life to focus on for a while so I don't have to think about mine. I know it's total impatience to want to know the next step right now (I was ancy within a day of being back) but that's the nature of a goal-oriented mind I suppose.

I miss my backpack. It's been leaning up against the futon looking all sad and empty. No symbolism there I promise. Last week I pulled a few clothes out of storage, you know, blue jeans, the normal stuff that doesn't go on the road. Looking into the little unit at all of my stuff, I realized that I didn't miss any of it. Most of it is still sitting there and probably will be for months. Even the excitement of a change of clothes wore off in about 2 days and I found myself thinking, 'What am I going to do with all this stuff?!' Maybe it's just me, but it seems so much easier to find something to wear when you've only got 2 or 3 things to pick from. I miss the simplicity of everything having its place in the pack, being totally sufficient with so little stuff, even getting stronger arms from packing and unpacking and packing and unpacking and carrying everything everywhere I went. Oh well. I picked up a section of my old running route and feel way better on it after being away for a year, so that's an encouragement.

As for all the plans, ideas and lofty optimistic thoughts I had on the way back? Abandoned like a paper ship. A different perspective has made me totally un-optimistic and un-motivated and all those seemingly great ideas don't seem so great at the moment. This could have a lot to do with the weather too though. The sun is out today, thank God, 'cuz it's been really cold lately. (Everyone else says it's nice, but I don't believe it!) I think this is the 3rd nice day in 2 weeks. That's 3 blessings to count!

Some time by the lake this morning listening to music and soaking in some morning sun did a lot of good, and today I'm actually able to focus on some work [aside from being distracted by writing this page]. I want to stay here through the summer and help my bro, after which I have no idea what will happen. Maybe try to get tour guide job? Maybe go back to South America and work on a farm? Or who knows, maybe I'll decide to be a city person after all, don some sensible high-heels and a skirt suit, and devote the rest of my life to a fluorescent-lit office. Ha.

The mothership has landed.

In some ways yesterday felt like my longest transit day. As expected it was really hard to pull myself away from the southerly Americas. The anticipation of finishing the trip - a daunting prospect like pulling off a bandaid (made of duct tape or superglue perhaps) that you just want to get over with - and comparatively not much to look at out the tiny plane windows, plus knowing that family was at the other end as anxious to see me as I was to see them, made the day seem to last forever. Houston was an interesting place to splash down, providing instantaneous American shock value. Seven-dollar sandwiches, high-end shops with all you never needed, vending machines with iPods no less! Not to mention the hunting and fishing shop with big dead animals in the window and classic t-shirt slogans like My grandma can outhunt you and My dog gives me the bird. Then there was the shop with all the Don't mess with Texas paraphernalia you could possibly want. Why is Texas so afraid of being messed with anyway, were they pushed around as a kid or something?

Travelling north fortunately meant that there fortunately wasn't much jetlag to deal with, and having plenty of distractions (like my mom & brother's smiling faces waiting at the airport) has eased the re-entry process... so far anyway. The thing it's been hardest to get used to is flushing my toilet paper again, I keep looking for a plastic bin off to the side or thinking I'm going to screw up the pipes when I flush. Fancy-pantsy Yankee plumbing.

Don't tell the boss, I'm on the company computer right now.  :-)  Looks like there will be plenty of work cut out for a needy traveller at Scotty's shop. Still have to find a way to get a paycheck, this being a baby business that needs all the goodwill nurturing it can get - a beautiful baby by the way! - but I'm looking forward to sinking my teeth into it starting tomorrow, and hopefully something else will come to fruit on the work front that won't take too much time away from the shop.

Well I could walk down the street and describe the sights of Kirkland but I'm sure half of you are well acquainted already, so I suppose the travel portion of this page is at a pause for now. Life, what an adventure. Thanks again for reading, & don't forget to check back for details on the slide show!

Over 'n' out.

You should see this...

Right now there's an ad in the sidebar of my email for 'High quality fashionable Possum knitwear'. D'ya think it's actually knit from possums?

 

I wasn't in such a hurry to get out of Cuenca and ended up enjoying my morning for way longer than I expected to, hence catching a 2pm bus which meant a midnight arrival. The bus ride from Cuenca to Quito confirmed my suspicion that Ecuador has some strange obsession with trash cans made to look like clowns, their gigantic heads sporting gaping mouths where the garbage goes. Interesting. I was glad to get out on the road while there were at least a few hours of daylight left, because the views were amazing. Once again as soon as we were out of the center of town the landscape turned to verdant mountainous agrarian paradise. I dozed off occasionally despite my effort to keep the eyes peeled, watching furry pigs with dirty noses, people working and kids and dogs, and impossibly cultivated mountainsides go by out the window. People here have the coolest hats, like they robbed the 40's of their style except that underneath are long black braids, colorful sweaters or shawls and skirts for the women, and jackets or ponchos with slacks for the men. A picture-perfect place becomes even moreso with local people in the frame. Sometime after sunset I awoke to find one last patch of rose in the western sky; instead of fading to orange or blue it faded straight to black, really a sight with the crescent moon hanging just in the corner.

 

Perhaps it's because I've been at it so long, or perhaps South America is just such an easy place to travel, but it occurred to me as I was rolling into a strange town at midnight last night with no cash, no reservations and no idea of where I was going that I might be getting a little too comfortable with this travel business. (Or is that a good thing?) I found a taxi to take me to an ATM and a decent place to stay, a little ways from where I really wanted to be but the people are really nice.

 

I had some grandiose ideas of what I might find in the morning based on what I saw in the guidebook and heard from other people. But when I walked out this morning and took my first glimpses of Quito, I got the feeling I could be wandering around all day and not find anything worth seeing; it just looked like a gigantic uninteresting city. I started zig-zagging toward what I thought might lead to the historical area till some spires of a church appeared in the distance. Following this I came to a big hill which gave sweeping views over the valley, but still didn't reveal what I was looking for. The church disappeared till I rounded a corner, following once again till I was at the entrance of its spectacular grounds. After snapping a few photos through the gate I noticed a street dropping down to the right, full of color and promise, and was immediately drawn to it. This is where the Wow was hiding! Even the cars, yellow taxis and blue buses added character to the street. Bright pastel buildings with white or contrasting trim appeared to me like fancy frosted cakes. In fact I passed a cake shop afterward and it was true, they were almost identical!

 

Winding and weaving down whichever street looked the most interesting, I realized this place is so full of spectacular views and interesting architecture - this just from the outside, and I know the churches at least have some disgustingly ornate interiors - that it would take ages to see it all. And I only have a day. This would actually be a great place to take a tour (note for the next time) because there's just so much to discover.

 

Well seeing as it's my last day and I'll hopefully seeing a lot of you soon, I thought I'd include some closing thoughts now in case you stop reading. I'm not great at preparing for things - or rather perhaps I am great at putting off dealing with the inevitable until it actually has to be dealt with - but I have in the back of my mind that really soon I'm in for some big changes. I'll be back in a familiar place, for weeks or even months no less, and possibly falling into some semblance of a routine (only inasmuch as can't be avoided). I've got some good stuff to look forward to, but precedent shows that coming back from trips, especially big ones, is kind of traumatic. I've never been good at 'ordinary' life, and reassimilating can be challenging (as some of you already know!). So apologies if I act a little weird, and thanks in advance to anyone who can give a little moral support as I try to re-integrate into some kind of daily life. Oh my goodness I can't believe I just said that! Daily life. Don't worry if I wander around for a while with my head in the clouds like a stoner, it's just re-entry shock.

 

On the last long trip I made a list of things I missed while I was travelling so I'd have something to be grateful for when I got back. This time the list is a lot shorter: hot showers that actually work, vehicle emission controls, blue jeans. Actually any pants that fit will be nice, mine are so stretched out from all the hand washing and drip drying. But the number one thing, of course, is my dear, dear loved ones!!!! You are the one and only reason I ever so much as consider spending any time in the USA, let alone sometimes living there.

 

So since we're venturing to look ahead, what's next?? This trip was a huge piece of unfinished business that kept me from investing in other aspects of life for almost a decade. Now with a big goal accomplished I'm hoping to have the patience to stick it out for a while (though it's sounding very unrealistic at the moment!). I promised my bro I'd spend a couple of months helping out in the shop, which I'm reeeeeally looking forward to. But then there's a dream to follow. I haven't played music in a good 12 years, and any day that I'm actually paying attention I feel it in a big way. So the next goal is to start playing again, find some classes, learn some good theory, do it the right way, and see what happens... There, I put it in writing so there's no chickening out!  :-)  Of course first it means finding a place I actually want to live for a while, and finding a decent job so I can pay for it. Unless something else comes up. Heh heh.

 

Of course this doesn't mean an end to the wanderlust. If there's one thing that travelling for over a year around the globe has shown me, it's that travel is in my blood, rooted in my soul. A writer once commented that she was in the same position with regards to travel as a leopard was to its spots. I second the motion! There are still a lot of empty pages in my passport which need to be filled before it expires in three years, and now more than ever, there are far more places on the must-see list than on the have-seen list. It's a small but big world, frustrating that there's not enough time in life to see and do everything, but then again thank God there's enough stuff to see and do that we don't run out!!

 

As I said I'll probably keep writing here for a while longer, get some post-trip thoughts down and then who knows what next. I'm also planning to put together a slide show so those of you in the North-wet can see some pics if you want. S said I can use the shop; I'll put a notice here when we pick the date, stay tuned! Speaking of which, millions of thanks to Scotty for setting up this page for me!!!! This journal wouldn't have existed without your expertise (and doing all the legwork), and all this stuff would have been stuck inside my head! So thanks!! And I forgive you for putting up pictures of me instead of the ones I gave you of cool scenery and flowers. And thanks a bunch to everyone who's stayed in touch along the way!! Sometimes it even felt like you were along for the ride.

 

Well tomorrow morning I have to get up at the crack of dog to catch my flight to Seattle via Houston. I can't believe it's my last day already. Wow. Better get back out there and enjoy it while it lasts!

Ooeeooeeooooo, waaa waaa waaa...

[That was western theme music in case you didn't get it.]

 

If I was amazed to meet two girls that I actually wanted to hang out with, this week must be a record breaker. Shortly after my last post (actually while we were still in the internet place) we met a gal from Seattle who was on her way to do some volunteer farm work, and instantly glommed onto her. Everyone got along great, and whether doing little errands, sipping coffees, taking in spectacular scenery, sloshing through calf-deep mud and creeks, or just sitting around watching the days go by like people crossing the square, these three were enjoyable company the whole time.

 

On the first day we went to check out a book exchange / cafe, which was more of a lending library as the hippified guy running it (a transplant from Las Vegas) wanted desperately to hang onto all of his books. Most of them weren't even for sale, you had to leave a deposit and trade in something that he wanted in exchange. Not convenient when in need of a read and leaving town, but I kind of liked the idea. We asked if he had coffee (being a partial cafe & all) and he said, 'Why not, I feel like a coffee too,' brewed some up and sat down to with us for what turned into a couple of hours. It was fun to get some of the local down-low; apparently there are about 200 expats from the USA etc living around Vilcabamba. In fact the next day in the square, about 8 of them showed up at the corner coffee place - I had the feeling it was a daily routine - including some characters that the bookshop guy had mentioned previously. A motley crew to be sure, but at least they were gravitating toward the good life.

 

That first night after whiling away the whole day in town, making our way up the hill to the hostel, there was no moon and at times it was so dark that it was impossible to see anything more than a foot or two away. Except for the millions and millions (mullllions and mullllions) of stars, and those little star-like creatures gleaming in the bushes and skipping along the road: fireflies!! It was magic up above and all around.

 

Ok these days are getting a little jumbled, but the other picture I really want to remember of Vilcabamba is sitting at that corner coffee place in the silence of long afternoon sunlight, the decorative pastel church across the way glowing at the top where the shade had yet to reach, watching folks come and go - oh yeah, while enjoying an exceptionally tasty piece of fresh banana cake (jam in the middle, coffee icing on top, mmmmm). It was a perfect afternoon that got more perfect when suddenly the speaker above our heads came to life with some fitting blues, then jazz, setting an even better tone to already great ambience.

 

I also want to remember those Sunday drivers, the guys in neatly pressed collared shirts riding the pranciest horses on earth down the brick streets in the middle of town. The horses were decked out in leather accessories studded with silver decorations. They always came alone, I don't know if it was a weekend thing or if they were meeting somewhere down the road, but I kind of expected to see some kind of gilded tumbleweed go by each time one passed.

 

The last morning at breakfast, a guy came up the street yelling, Pescado, pescado, the one-man fish market. Then a bit later a little truck came humming along with a sign on top advertising milk for sale. Se vende leche de chivas. Just as I was deciding that chivas probably means goats, the truck passed revealing a half-dozen goat heads peeking out the side. I wondered if they were selling it straight off the goat. Sometimes it's the daily stuff of small towns that's the most memorable.

 

After a couple of days of unexpected fun, it was finally time to leave for Cuenca. I was amazed by the scenery from the bus window: 5 or 6 hours of greener-than-green rural mountains and valleys, covered in shrubs, forests and farms, each as green and gorgeous as the one before. I'm totally in love with this country already. Have to check out the coast one day, who knows, I hear it's pretty easy to eek out a life down here.... ;-)

 

Cuenca is truly a beautiful little town. Actually bigger than I was expecting, and parts of it a bit more poshy, but nice nonetheless. The main square is the perfect centerpiece for the city, and the old churches and buildings are absolutely beautiful. Today I fortuitously stumbled upon a museum and decided to check it out, finding inside the most well laid out and interesting ethnographic exhibit of all the peoples/regions in Ecuador. My mind was a little blown when I went down to the bottom floor and peeked through the glass doors of the ethnographic reserve - all the extra stuff that wasn't in the exhibit - rows and rows full of pottery, beads, all kinds of artefacts, probably fifty times what was actually displayed upstairs. Wow. Outside was an Inca ruin which turned out to be pretty extensive, with a big garden at the bottom including medicinal plants and a sample Andean forest (I think actually modeled after what the original grounds might have been like), plus a few birds in houses that were way to small for creatures that should be soaring a mile above them... but anyway the place on the whole was really impressive. And one of the parrots kept saying things in spanish and then cracking up.

 

Tomorrow I've got a 12-hour bus ride to Quito, the last long bus of the trip. Think I'm going to catch a morning one, even though opting against a night bus means paying an extra night's accommodation and spending all that precious daylight on the bus. After the last ride I really want to see what the landscape looks like between here and there.

 

Then a day in Quito, then a couple of flights, then some welcome familiar faces and lots of catching up to do...

Ecuador: The Final Frontier

Or is that Space?

At any rate, barring any happenings of the unexpected kind, I've just crossed over the last border of the trip before hitting Yankee shores. It was a dreamy last day in Huanchaco, with a little beach time before heading to the bus station. As it turned out the bus was scheduled earlier than the time I'd found online, but I was there just in time... and then the bus was about an hour late so I got to wait around anyway. The plan was to breeze right through Piura with just a quick connection, over the border and straight to Loja, Ecuador. I was good and did my research and everything - but unfortunately the info I'd found was either outdated or just plain incorrect.

When I arrived in Piura a little before 10pm I was glad at the prospect of leaving straight away. Towns like that aren't the most charming at night in the first place, even if there were still more tuk-tuks on the streets than hookers (of which there were plenty). My hopes for all the buses being conveniently located in one terminal were disappointed as soon as we pulled in; though they were on the same street, it took some looking around to find the right one. I asked at my arrival station where to go for Loja, and the lady directed me to a company across the way. I walked down the dark little street and through the entrance - a big garage door - and inquired, but the guy said they didn't serve Loja. I set out in search of the right office but couldn't find it at first, so I asked a few people who were not much help. One guy in a guest house said it's 'that way' and 'close' but wouldn't say how close or exactly where. Back on the street I went in hopes of finding this bus before it was supposed to leave, but after walking around a bit and not wanting to wander back and forth too much with my pack, obviously a clueless tourist, I finally hailed a tuk-tuk to take me there. He either misunderstood or had his own idea, as he drove me to the office that I first went to, and then upped the fare to take me to the correct one when they again assured that they didn't have the right bus. When we finally got to the right station, I think around 10:20, I asked about the 10:30 bus which I found online but there was none. The last bus had left at 9:30.

I was now looking at a night in Piura. The guy at the terminal offered to help me with a room, so I bade adieu to Mr Tuk-tuk and followed him into the station. As it turned out the room was in the station, two dingey little beds with an attached bathroom, a big dead roach under the sink and a few more scurrying past. It was cheap and I almost took it despite its dreary and disgusting appearance, till I realized that I would be sleeping behind a gigantic locked gate (this was the garage where the buses go) at the mercy of a lone stranger that I knew nothing about with no way to get off the premises on my own. So I said thanks and went back out onto the street to the nearest guesthouse. It was the one where I got the useless directions - and it was apparently full. I tried another one which was more than I wanted to spend, but as I was once again walking down the street a police guy started asking me questions and told me to be very careful. I thought this was a good sign to cut my losses and just take what I could get, so I went back to the last place. The kid at the desk was really sweet, which slightly eased my frustration at being stuck here for the night. Plus I had a TV (with a remote control to boot) so I was quickly able to numb the night into sleepy oblivion. In the morning there was more life to town, shops open, hordes of tuk-tuks in primary colors on every street and driveway. I bought my ticket and soon was on my way to Ecuador...

Seeing some of the landscape in the daytime made the night in Piura worthwhile. As we got closer to the border, urban middle-of-nowhere turned to rural middle-of-nowhere with beautiful farms, then we crossed what looked like an endless lumpy plain studded with bushes, which in one instant turned to solid green as far as the eye could see. Myriad foliage, flowers, citrus fruits, good smells coming in the bus window. The Peru/Ecuador border is located on a river; you check out of Peru, then walk across a bridge over the river and check into Ecuador. It's superbly scenic.

Soon after our crossing the bus began to make its way up into the mountains. Mountains teeming with dense live greenery. I had one of those moments where I realized I was just entering a brand new place, an absolute jewel, an entire beautiful country to explore... for which I only have one week. The bus broke down a couple of times along the way, but they were quick to fix it, and we arrived into Loja just a while after a spectacular sunset: bright green hillsides founded on pumpkin-orange soil, misty clouds lit up bright pink all the way down to their toes that were dangling on the mountaintops.

Along the way I had met two girls, one from Germany (P) and the other from Australia (S). P kept mentioning that they were going to this really nice town called Vilcabamba and that she had this great hostel picked out, and - not to say what I should do - but I was welcome to change my plans and come along. For the last few days I'd been thinking about a change of plans just to keep things interesting, and my only real reason for stopping in Loja was to make it to the local Provincial Park, which I now didn't know if I'd have time for due to the extra beach day and extra bus day. So when we arrived at Loja I agreed to follow the girls to Vilacabamba. P & S were actually just planning to split a taxi and go their separate ways, but S was tempted by the hostel as well... and on learning that it was her birthday the next day we decided that we'd all go together.

I'm not usually fussed over accommodation but I have to mention this one. They didn't have space in the dorm so we got a private room with attached bathroom, possibly the best bathroom in any hostel. The walls are made of big stones, and even the shower (with a big rainshower head) is built into a stone alcove. If I ever end up building that dream house, I'm stealing this bathroom design. And building a patio with hammocks. I hadn't been in a hammock since I was a little kid until this morning after a nice buffet breakfast, when we went out back to check out the digs and swing a little in the breeze, watching butterflies flutter between the millions of leaves of trees. The valley views from the outdoor dining area are gorgeous, looking over the town itself, and there are flowers galore in the entry. I've already been convinced to cut another day out of the rest of the itinerary to hang here with the girls.

A little while ago we rolled down into town on cruisers borrowed from the hostel, complete with big handlebars and dodgey brakes. And now here I am, catching up on a couple of things, in a beautiful little valley town where apparently people live to be older than anywhere else in the world. We've already seen quite a few ancients wandering around, and no wonder, what a place to spend your days!

Mayday, Mayday!!!

Is it true? I was updating my calendar today, and it seems to indicate that it's May already. Yikes!!! Didn't think I'd get to that page for a long time.

 

I'm just sitting down to work out the schedule from here across the border to Loja, Ecuador, leaving tomorrow afternoon. In a few short days Peru has made its way to the top of the must-see-again list. I recently mentioned to a friend, who agreed with my theory, that Peru may just have everything in the whole wide world: gigantic mountains and beautiful beaches, endless lifeless deserts and dense jungles, plants and animals galore, culture and indigenous people with their crafts and music, enough development to be fairly comfortable but enough un-development to lend a touch of reality. Not to mention it's full of latinos. (A big plus in my opinion anyway!) Like any other place I'm sure it has its fair share of problems - for instance I met a lady recently who told me that most of her family was killed by terrorists a while back, that she has 6 kids and her husband took off, and that it's normal for girls to get knocked up at 14 or 15 years old - so yeah, there are a few problems... but it's also got the lion's share of treasures.

 

Today I was walking down Ave Libertador or some street when an old lady named Dora randomly stopped me to talk. She lives in Lima but is fixing up a house here, and told me that the place will be much better soon and I should definitely come back to visit. At first I thought she meant she was going to rent out rooms, but as I was leaving she said, "When are you coming back? You have to come for lunch or dinner or coffee." She also asked if I was 23, which made me want to be her best friend, heh heh. But even amid days and weeks and months of travel to various corners of the world, it's still a rare treat to meet someone who's being nice just to be nice, not asking for money or business or anything else, and totally out of the blue!

 

Guess that's all for now, I've got a little more business to take care of and there's a beach out there calling my name...

That's it, I'm moving back to the beach!

I don't know where or when, but it's got to happen. It just feels right. (Wasn't that a Mazda ad or something?) After 2 nights on buses I arrived at my semi-destination of Trujillo, the real draw being the beach town of Huanchaco a bit to the north. When I arrived at Trujillo around 7am and peeked out the bus window,  I decided instead of stopping there it would be best to catch the first taxi and blaze right through to Huanchaco. And good thing, this place is awesome! Little beach town, tiny garages functioning as restaurants where the lady watches TV while waiting for customers, asks what you want providing suggestions but no menu and makes it on the spot. Went to one of those last night and was really tempted to ask if she wanted help with anything, because it felt more like being in her place than in a restaurant. The fish was great too.

 

This is no tropical paradise, I think it's even better. A real beach, with chilly afternoon breezes that lift the surf into long rolling waves, an endless curving coastline that disappears in the misty salt air, deeply warming noontime sun that makes it impossible not to relax, fishermen dotted along the beach with hand lines... Nothing to do but walk on the beach, lie on the beach, watch people surfing, run on the beach, sit on the beach, watch the sunset... Ahh, it's been a lonnng time - in fact years!!

 

I've been in quick-stop mode lately and trying to leave some extra days at the end of the trip in case anything interesting comes up, but this place was too good rush through, so I'm taking my time - even stealing a day or two from Ecuador just to hang here and enjoy it. I thought at first I might get bored being in one place with really nothing to do, but it's great!! I'm shelling out the big bucks - like 9 bucks a night - for a nice room with a balcony, big bed, private bathroom and TV, so I've been enjoying it to the max, sleeping in and watching really bad TV. Really bad - I've seen Gray's Anatomy twice already! The first time had subtitles so it was a little educational (subtitled TV, how half the world learns languages) but the second one was just dubbed over in Spanish. This was actually better because I missed all the stupid nuances in the stupid dialogue and didn't have to hear the stupid actors' stupid voices. [There's a reason I gave up my TV years ago, I turn to bad shows like passing a car accident - it's impossible not to stop and watch even though it makes the stomach turn.] I just wish here that they had little windows at the bottom of the screen with the Spanish speakers' faces in them, would be highly entertaining to see who was behind all those smoky and sultry hispanic voices.

 

Today I woke up late, went for a run on the sand, did some laundry, had ceviche and Inca Kola for lunch (ceviche was surprisingly great considering I've been happily avoiding fish for a few months; Inca Kola filled my year's quota - 2nd soft drink this month, yuck - but I had to try since it seems to be the national drink) then wandered back to the beach to daydream in the afternoon fog.

 

After spending piles of days on buses with relatively short stops between, losing track of days and hence sleep and meals from being in transit, and starting to feel generally kind of lousy a lot of the time, it took only 2 days by the beach to feel healthy, happy and great!! I think it's the fresh salt air. Being here brings back lots of living-at-the-beach memories too, I keep expecting to see familiar faces walking by. But perhaps the local experience will have to wait for the next beach town, one where I have a chance to stay a while and make it my own. Indeed the road will have me back in just a couple of days!

Inca Roads / Angels in the Architecture

Why not give this entry two names, I couldn't decide on one and the place warrants it anyway. My day at Machu Picchu started a couple of hours later than anticipated due to this inclination of hitting the snooze button, but it turned out to be a good thing as I needed the extra energy at the end of the day. If anyone goes to MP, don't listen to the people who say it's soooo lonnnnng to walk to the ruins from town and it's allll stepppps. It does take a little time and it is all steps once you start uphill, but who could even notice the walk when there are lush fresh-smelling plants on all sides, colorful flowers to photograph and birds serenading the journey? I thought I might run out of camera battery before arriving at the ruins because I was snapping so many flower shots, but fortunately it lasted.

 

When I arrived at the top I had the same sort of moment that I had with my first glimpse of the Grand Canyon. 'Hmm.' Sometimes things take a while to hit home, especially when you know of a wonder for your whole life and now rather than leaping out from the pages of a picture book it stands before you in plain silent reality. I thought I'd stick around for a couple of hours and call it good, but ended up closing the place down. There were so many vantage points, plus little trails to explore out from the edges, one taking me a good way up Mt Machupicchu for some amazing vistas and dozens more flower photos before I realized the sun was heading down and I should too. I practically had to run to the last viewpoint to get there and back in time; a guide along the way had warned me that the last bus was leaving soon, and I was yet undecided if I'd have enough time to walk down to town before dark or if I should take the bus (wouldn't have cared had I brought a light, but the cheesy little $5 headlamp that replaced my Spot got lost somewhere between here and Cuzco). With dusk setting in and 20 minutes to the bus I turned for a last view of the main complex, and snapped the last photo of the day; indeed when I tried to take just one more, the camera battery died. Perfect timing. After a whole day of walking up and down and all around, it seemed anti-climactic to jump on the bus and miss all the evening sounds and scents along the forested path, so I checked my watch and the remaining sunlight and made a dash for it. What took an hour and 10 mins going up, albeit very leisurly and with lots of photo stops, took 35 minutes going down, and it was just getting too dark to see by the time I reached the road at the bottom. There were huge black butterflies that came out in the evening, substantial enough that their fluttering wings amid the foliage were sometimes audible, and of course that great sensation of an evening in the forest after a long sunny day.

 

The next day the train wasn't until after 5pm, so I headed for the botanic garden. As it turned out you could only enter with a ticket to the adjacent museum, which I wasn't too interested in, but with hours to kill and nothing to lose but a few bucks I bought the ticket. This turned out to be a great move - again if you go to MP, go to the museum! It sounds like it only re-opened in '95 after a long closure, and a lot of the artefacts on exhibit were only found in the last 10 years (many in 2005) so this turned out to be a great time to go. Not only did they have all the usual interesting stuff made of stone, metal and pottery, but they had explanations of the Incas' organization and how Machu Picchu was built. I always thought terraces were carved out of mountains, but it turns out they actually built them upwards from the mountainside, bringing many of the materials somehow with them. There were quotes from some elders in the area who said that the Incas were very powerful, and whipped the stones to make them walk up the mountain. Most also mentioned that the Incas' time was over, and something about their judgement, sounding relieved that they wouldn't come back - it sounded like even the modern people had some underlying fear of the old powers, which was interesting. There were also displays of big flat mortars which apparently they used to fill with water to use as mirrors for observing the stars. Fascinating stuff.

 

The botanic garden was more like a jungle than a garden, which was cool. Oh I was wrong about the hundreds of plant species in the area; hundreds are the species of butterflies (more nocturnal than diurnal surprisingly), and if I added the list correctly, the plant species come to about 8,000!!

 

It was easy to while away the day, including a stop to a local veg restaurant for some healthy eats, hard to come by these days. I haven't really sampled the local cuisine, but as it seems heavy on guinea pigs and alpacas it's not high on the to-do list. Ooh, did I mention that I saw a little monkey! I was sitting by the river waiting for the train and chatting with two long-haired wandering traditional musicians that I'd met earlier (I always find the wayward artist types, is it gravity?) when one of them said, 'Monkey!' and pointed to a nearby tree (kind of funny that he said that in english). I had no idea there were monkeys there.

 

Let's see, back on the train to Cuzco watching the last bits of day depart from the valley as we went... a surprising amount of lights when we arrived in town... The next day I bought my ticket to continue up north and spent a few more hours admiring the main plaza. I realized that the plaza is the perfect proportion for taking photos, whether on a restaurant balcony or down on the sidewalk, with steps and curbs and the whole thing on a tilt, big enough that you can get sweeping views but small enough that you can zoom in close. I would say this square easily rivals the Grand Place in Brussels, except instead of being packed with ornate buildings, there are spaces between to give the mountains an equal voice. Not just man's architecture, but a meeting place of man's and God's buildings, blending into one perfect scene.

 

I'm at yet another bus station now, in Lima, waiting for a connection to Trujillo and Huanchaco up on the coast. Twenty hours from Cuzco to Lima, 8 hours waiting (with not much to see in this area) and 8 more hours of bus. It's kind of taking its toll having so many long bus trips in such a short time, I'm feeling it all over, but hopefully this is the last biggie of the trip. I did take a walk down a strip of park on the way to a chinese restaurant - something bizarrely abundant in this country - the park containing statues with big etched glass panes containing quotes and picturse. One that I ventured to read I thought said something about death and suicide. Another seemed to say something about butterflies being cubists in the world of green. A good indication my still-limited spanish comprehension, but hey maybe it's more interesting that way. They could have been perfectly normal quotes, but I'll never know.

It was love at first sight

I have no idea what I wrote the other day, I was so rushed just trying to get it out before catching the bus and moving on to new impressions. I have to keep lists of notes so I don't forget anything important between posts, because every day is memorable in some way. And thanks to you - those of you who have admitted to reading my journal, & those red dots on the map that keep growing - after more than a year of writing I have a constant voice in my head narrating almost every single thing that happens (yeah thanks a lot), sometimes over and over again till I know how I want it to sound. Lucky for you you only get one version, not the other thousand that I get! But sometimes I still forget stuff. I forgot to mention the dog in San Pedro who came up and kept trying to give me hugs, arms outstretched & all (a shepherd mix no less), which I resisted at first because she was a stray and fairly filthy... but I finally gave in and moved my stuff to the other side of the bench where I was sitting, and she immediately got up onto the bench next to me, buried her head in my lap and took a nap. I don't think it's an interesting travel story, but puppy hugs are worth remembering in my opinion. I also forgot to mention, for the sake only of Arlo as this will make sense to nobody else, that somehow when I got out into the middle-of-nowhere desert this song came out of the blue... pchkwa, pchkwa, fptky... Haven't thought of that in a long time, but it's still in there somewhere! (BTW, miss you guys!) Last but not least I forgot to mention how after a long desert day the fading evening sun first turned the hillsides tangerine orange, then as the shadows grew the distant triangular volcanoes took on a bright pink glow. Perhaps they were blushing at being mooned by that full & bright being leaning over them to the right.

 

On to the present... Ha, present indeed. I won't get all over-dramatic and say that my first views of Cuzco nearly brought tears to my eyes (even though they nearly did) or that as I walked around town I was literally gasping as I turned new corners (even though I was). I heard that Cuzco was a beautiful city, but that's the understatement of the century. It's absolutely friggin spectacular! It's the kind of place that makes me excited to be travelling, despite arriving after 30 hours on 3 buses and very little sleep, despite the shooting pains in my knees as I stepped down out of the final bus after sitting for so long. Fantastic old architecture, crisp green mountains on every side draped with red-roofed houses, which I assume must be gigantic as the town itself is supposed to be at about 3500 meters elevation. On one of my buses they mistakenly played the director's notes over a movie instead of english subtitles - it was actually more interesting than I thought the normal movie would have been - but they said at one point that to show a neighboring house outside of a fake kitchen window, instead of using a gigantic photo or something they painted a fake scene using wide brush strokes that didn't make any sense up close but showed up perfectly clear from the distance of the camera. I was wondering if Cuzco's surrounds were painted with wide brush strokes too. Even in the mist of morning things that are obviously distant seem touchably close.

 

After one day of wandering around like a zombie probably with my jaw dropped open, I spent a second day getting my train ticket to Machu Picchu and then unintentionally wandering for hours upon hours through market stalls looking at crafts and produce, stopping into a bakery for some bread (what a wonderful life!). Peruvians really take the cake when it comes to craftsmanship. I stopped into this center for traditional textiles where they had all kinds of local weaving and a little exhibit to explain it, and my goodness it was absolutely amazing.

 

This morning I got on the backpacker train (funny they actually call it that, but good for me since they charge less than the fancier tourist classes) for Aguas Calientes. My guidebook says it's the ugliest little town in Peru. I don't know about ugly, and from what I've seen of the country so far it may be the contrast that stands out most, but for sure it is a tourist ghetto. At first I thought the name Aguas Calientes referred to the nearby hotsprings, but now I suspect it's because it's an instant town - just add hot water. It seems to have sprung up wherever the moment took it, businesses lining the river and a train track down the middle of the main street. The surroundings are amazing though - amazing!! People seem to have such a blase attitude toward the train from Cuzco, I had no idea the mountain views were going to be worth the price in themselves. Wow.... There must be hundreds of types of plants growing all together in the mountains, from arid cacti and aloes to tropical flowers. And this little town is surrounded by high pointy peaks, jam-packed with their own green. The sun went 'down' at a quarter to three in the main square because everything is so steep and compact. I definitely don't regret booking two nights here. Machu Picchu tomorrow (hopefully I can start really early) and some spare time to try and hit the hotsprings!

 

Well I thought it would be appropriate to end this entry by wishing everyone a happy belated Earth Day. It's April 21st, and everybody knows today is Earth Day, Merry Christmas, Happy Birthday to whoever's being born... Does anyone remember that song? Did it used to be on the 21st or did he get the date wrong, or did April 22nd just not have the same ring? Also happy Administrative Professionals Day, which I believe is today. I hope you're all having a nice day off to celebrate, BBQ, fireworks, the whole shebang. It's a biggie alright. Admin Pro Day. Did it used to be called Secretaries Day??

The best-laid plans of mice and me

The night before I was supposed to go to Caldera (about 9 hours before actually) Jorge of the guesthouse came by and asked about my plans, to which he adamantly responded that I wasn't going to Caldera and had to go to San Pedro de Atacama. He took me straight to the station and helped me change my ticket - no objections on my part, what's the point of spontaneity if it's not spontaneous, and I had no strong feelings either way.

 

As we were walking back from the station we stopped into a little hole-in-the-wall to sample some of a local specialty, wine with strawberry stuff mixed in. Wasn't shabby, but the experience couldn't be beat. The place was maybe 10 feet wide by 15 or 20 feet deep if you count the bar & behind, the bar being about the size of a pastry case, and was packed with people sitting at rickety little tables. A few minutes after we sat down a guy in the back started speaking really loud & moved to the front, doing some sketch - an actor. After he passed the hat and left it seemed that things were winding down, till about 6 indigenous musicians from Ecuador came squeezing into the room to play a few tunes. We expected them to pass a hat too but they didn't - as J commented, maybe they were just there for the love of the art. Then after a while a couple of guys came in to play traditional Chilean music (called Cueca, I think?), at which point a few crusty old locals moved up to the front and took over the guitar, stealing the show with their own songs. After a couple of tunes the original guitarist somewhat shyly managed to steal his instrument back, and they continued on with a song about Valparaiso, which just topped the cake in my magical experience of this town.

 

On the walk home our path merged with a pack of dogs who were chasing cars and coming so close to getting hit, I kept having to look away. They stuck with us till we turned off to a steep stairway, at a corner where a lady with a yard full of cats was going off about those dang dogs and seemingly getting mad at us because she thought they were ours. It wasn't easy to convince her that they weren't with us since a couple of them turned up the stairs with us. Silly muts! I think the dogs around here are as integral a part of the community as the people are.

 

Changing my ticket meant a 5pm departure instead of 7am, so I had an extra day to amble along the charismatic streets of Valpo, the ones that sometimes smell like pee and other times like freshly baked cookies and pastries, the ones that have 90's music drifting out of every window and doorway (apparently a couple of years ago it was 80's music). Did I ever mention that they have the best-ever avocados here? Mmmmmm!!! On this walk I found tons more colorful houses and way better murals than in the open-air museum, and wandered along the historical lane of Paseo Yugoeslava (Baba would have been proud).

 

I was sad to leave Valparaiso but excited for new things. When I woke up to the rising sun after a night on the bus, there were rocks and rocks galore out the right window, and ocean out the left. This coastline looked like the definition of desolate, in a good way. About an hour to my first stop of Antofagasta, in the middle of desert nowhere, there appeared strangely a giant stone hand sculpture. Who put it there or why I can't imagine, there was nobody there! But isn't that the kind of randomness you expect in weird desert places?

 

A quick connection and a few more hours took me to San Pedro de Atacama, one of the coolest places ever!! As interesting as Coober Pedy, but with more history than dynamite and more tradition than blatent oddity. I was instantly glad at having been convinced to come here. Watching all the people riding around on bikes I started to get jealous, and decided a bike ride was definitely in order - plus it was the only way to get out to some of the good desert sites - so I rented a bike and pedalled out to Valle de la Luna. No traffic, nobody anywhere for the most part, two-wheeled bliss!! The scenery was amazing and rugged and spectacular and totally unreal, sand dunes and multi-colored dirt and rocks. Pedalling up a dry creek bed, ditching the bike when it started to get too sandy and walking the rest of the way, I ended up at a kind of dead-end bowl where two plants had managed to eek out a living, plus the bluest sky I've ever seen. Did I mention the Atacama is the world's driest desert? I'll let the photos attempt to do the rest of the talking as I have a bus to catch and don't really know what to say anyway. Coming out of the valley and back onto the main highway, I found myself on a seemingly endless uphill stretch. Stopping part-way up for a bite to eat I pulled out some tunes, choosing Temple of the Dog to help get me the rest of the way up the hill. It worked wonders... and then the payoff. Pushin' Forward Back had just come on, and there opened before me a long, smooth, curvy, perfect stretch all the way down to the next valley. Oh my goodness. I had to touch the brakes on a couple of corners, thinking it best not to kill myself on the last 3 weeks of the trip, but the rest of the way was like flying. If anyone was hiding in the nearby rocks they would have heard me whooping and hollering like a lunatic. Yeeeeaaaaaahhhh!!!!

 

What a day, what a place. I was totally tuckered out by the time my bus was ready to go (6 hours on a bike, 12 hours on a bus, brilliant idea by the way). Norht to Arica, to get to the Peru border. Once again in the morning I awoke to see a vast nothing. Sand dunes, lots of sand, things that looked like farms but were also only sand. Expecting to have to spend a day here, I found (by following another traveler) a colectivo to take us across the border. An old Chevy Caprice Classic loaded down with 6 people and luggage, loco driver who was singing at the border and making cowboy sounds as he whipped the car around after customs, who made gestures and kisses at all the roadside shrines as we whizzed past. Nothing around but sand. Latin music on the radio. What a picture.

 

On arrival in the other-side-of-the-border town of Tacna with a few hours to spare, I wound my way through a huge local market complete with fruit, toiletries, skinned and gutted guinea pigs, the usual. I was able to get a bus to Cusco today, which means arriving a day earlier but a heck of a long time in transit. Speaking of which, I think I'm late for that bus. Gotta run!!!

Cross in the sky, star of the sea...

...Under the moonlight, there she can safely go
Round the Cape Horn to Valparaiso

Yeah I admit the song kind of biased me toward coming here, and it's been circling round my brainy brain for the last 3 days, but that's way better than the 80's pop music that invades my head when I've been in the mountains for a while with nothing to listen to. Like Poison, Whitesnake, oh no it gets worse - Debbie Gibson!! Yeah, I'll take Sting any time.

The last few days in Argentina were spectacular. I went to Puente del Inca for a day, to see the mountains around Aconcagua. Wasn't sure whether I was actually going to go into the park proper, but I opted against, partly because it was enough of a walk just to and from the entrance and there appeared to be a huge storm coming in, and partly because the scenery was already amazing where I was... so much so that I actually forgot to look for the turnoff to the park as I followed foot & horse paths up the valley, and ended up about an hour past it. It was freezing and gloomy with a stiff wind blowing, but the mountains were incredible. An eroded wonderland, rocky peaks jutting out from beneath massive piles of scree that reached all the way up to their chins, as if somebody had unloaded a giant dump-truck over the top. On the ground I was finding rocks to match the hillsides, from pinks to greens and lots in between. There's also this crazy mineral deposit bridge thang at Puente del Inca (the real reason most people stop there) with a thermal bath house built in. It was cool to look at from a short distance but closed off from closer observation as it was deemed peligroso.

The next day I packed up and left my beatiful campsite in Uspallata to cross the border into Chile, back up the same road over the pass and then beyond (this time it was sunny and perfectly clear, but still butt-cold, as one might say... if they were related to me.... or to anyone who's closely related to me). The mountains were as spectacular as ever, and after a couple of hours at customs/immigration bringing us into Chile, we proceeded down a loopy mountain road with a dozen or more hairpin turns that seemed to drop straight down into a dramatic valley. This was the first time the mountains really looked big to me.

As we reached the lowlands the views were still amazing, farms, groves of fruit trees, rivers sparkling in the lemony-yellow afternoon sun, occasional palm trees, towns and villages, a scene that reminded me a lot of Southern California. At least what it could have been, if people didn't totally screw it up. 'Thank You Irvine Company - Green Forever!' You know I don't often admit it, but I am truly a Californian at heart and probably always will be. I love that place, even the southern part that I always compain about, I just hate what people have done to it. Who knows, maybe that's part of the reason I've been displaced for so many years, because the place I love so much is so irreparably ruined that I can't even think of living there again. Damn you, Irvine Company. Damn you all to...... Irvine!

A few hours' drive and then a glimmer on the horizon: the Pacific!! Feels like home, could be the closest thing I have to a geographical home, eh? There's nothing like reaching that coast. When we arrived at Vina del Mar the bus all but emptied; this is the 'nicer' spot on the coast, with good beaches and fancy hotels. Bah-humbug. I, evidently along with the other 3 people remaining on the bus, was looking for something more interesting.

A travel writer once said that there's a magic to place names, and I totally agree. There's no counting the number of dreams that have been born from just hearing a simple name. It doesn't matter what's actually there or if you know anything about it, the name itself seduces curiosity and casts a spell over imagination till they ache for a visit: Madagascar, Machu Picchu, Nairobi, Kiev... Valparaiso.

I was expecting a dingey little port town, and indeed it's a dingey port town but a little bigger than I expected - or perhaps just more full, the half-circle of mountiainsides around the port totally packed with buildings. True to many ports, the utilitarian side of it can be kind of gross and uninviting... but the mere existence of the port is also what lends character to the town. And this is a town oozing with character!! When I arrived on the bus I was met by a guy who was looking for guests at his house, much the way those cute old ladies do in Croatia. I liked him almost instantly, and when I saw the house it was a done deal. He painted it himself, bright yellow in the dining area, blue in the hallway, green up the stairs, the kind of thick paint job that recklessly bulldozes over every nook and crack and peeling patch of wallpaper. I don't know if it's just this house or the town, but when I arrived I found the most fun people: a couple of entertaining young Israelis who you would swear were old-time friends but just met on this trip; two sisters from New York who seem to have a fantastic relationship and like to laugh; a Welsh climber who got me into discussions of religion, politics and family heritage before we even learned each other's names; two sweet Chileans who are here for a few weeks on work-plus-holiday.... not to mention Jorge who runs the place and is always eager to share information about his town, and even the gal who comes to clean up, and will sit down at the breakfast table with her coffee and try so patiently to make conversation despite my lacking comprehension. It's so nice to be in a home too, instead of a big crowded hostel; there are only 3 beds in my room - 2 of which are now empty - none of them bunks!! (I can't tell you how excited I am to have a real bed and nobody above or below).

The local people here so far have been just as kind and patient as those in Argentina, putting up fantastically with my broken Spanish, which often turns to Spanglish, occasionally Spatalian, and once or twice even Cropanish. So far (I think) I've kept the French words to a minimum, which is almost miraculous since my Spanish phrasebook is written for French speakers, an attempt to brush up on both at the same time which actually might be working. But sometimes words just pop into my head and I say them before I have any idea what they mean. Like today I tried to ask if the bathroom was free, and realized a few minutes later I had actually asked if it was a book. Thanks in part to my Croatian studies, I've also become one of those foreigners who leaves out a copious amount of articles and other words that make a language pleasant. Oh well, we can't be perfect all the time (or any of it), so I'll leave the shudders at my horrible grammar up to the native speakers who actually notice!

There are some amazing old buildings in town and century-old elevators up the hills, but after a walk around yesterday and a ride on the oldest ascensor, the magic I was looking for hadn't yet shown its face. Today I went for another wander, almost forgetting that I'd wanted to see the open-air museum, not a museum at all but a collection of murals on the sides of houses and walls. Uncharacteristic of my normal weakness for inertia, when I remembered I stopped and checked the map and then backtracked to get to the area, and it turned out to be the best thing I could have done. The murals themselves weren't too exciting (#20 is the only one I liked) but the neigborhoods up on the hill were amazing!! Old houses with walls made of plaster or corrugated metal or brick, most covered in thick peeling paint, all crammed together in equal and opposing bright colors, I think this place is even more beautiful for the fact that it's falling apart at the seams! Talk about character, steep streets with sea views, colors everywhere, and then there are all the other paintings on walls, steps and railings that people just did on their own independent of the museum, much of it accented with graffiti. I just knew there was a magic here that I couldn't see, I could feel it - and an afternoon up on the hillside showed me the place I was looking for.

As I walked down the hill I heard a pipe and drum band somewhere, but they must have just rounded a corner as I got there and were nowhere in sight. Later I walked down to the rinky-dinky little beach, past all the port stuff and the navy base (sorry, armada - when they have a word that cool you've gotta use it). The ocean views were worth the overly industrial walk, and then there was the surprising sight of a gigantic 4-masted ship, the 4 cross-beams on its front mast lined with about 50 sailors. They looked like seagulls perched up there. It was so bizarre, the only thing I can think is that they were taking an annual photo or something?

Lest we forget it's a whirlwind, tomorrow it's time once again to move on. I was planning to head to San Pedro de Atacama - known for the Atacama Desert of course. Yesterday I almost succeeded in roping G (aforementioned Welsh) into joining me for a few days up into Peru, which would have been lots of fun. I was going to scrap the San Pedro idea in effort to save a day or two on the way, and you know how it is - once you decide to change your plans, it just seems anti-climactic to go back to the original (does anyone else think that way?). So when in the end we couldn't get the timing to work out and G decided to stick to his original plan and head east, I still had this inkling to do something different. Today when I went to the bus station I asked about a ticket to Caldera, about 15 hours up on the coast, and before I realized what I was doing I bought a ticket. I walked away thinking, 'Oh yeah, guess I just decided to go to Caldera!' It sounds like a nice little beach town, & I'm really looking forward to it!

Do you see this thing  ´ ? I think it does something over a letter, but it's on the key where our apostrophe normally is, and it looks exactly like an apostrophe, just a little fainter and maybe a little more angled. The real apostrophe key is up by the zero, and it's totally not natural. So if you see a bunch of these ´´´ ´  that's what's happening! A random bit of useless info to leave you thinking, 'Hmm, I almost liked that entry, but then at the end it went down hill...'

Uspallata

I thought it was a one-horse town, but there are at least three. And a bunch of dogs.

 

What is it that I instantly love about this place? Is it the brightness in the desert air, the way the sun in all its unhindered intensity casts a pure but somehow mellow shine over everything? Is it the inexplicable quiet, as though the endless blue sky were a vacuum stealing the vitality from every sound, that despite everything happening in the street the whole town - it would seem from here the whole world - rests under a blanket of calm?

 

I sit out on the patio of a roadside restaurant watching small-town life go by. Across the street a man steps out of a shop and crouches down between two wooden posts, stretching out his arms to a passing stray dog. Happy for attention the dog wanders up to receive some pets and a hearty hug; after a few minutes the dog carries on and the man returns to the shop. My eye moves to a boy standing on the roadside with flyers in his hand trying to flag down passing cars to stop at the restaurant. Somehow he reminds me of what my grandpa might have been like as a kid; I start to think about how much he would have loved this place, perhaps sitting at the same table and sipping the same strong coffee as I am now, taking in all the sights and muted sounds, enjoying the ever-present smell of a wood fire somewhere...

 

Back at camp the mountain views are spectacular, peaks and ridges contoured in pinks, greys and whites as if moulded from clay. I've tried to take about fifty photos but it seems impossible to capture even a corner of this scene with any sort of justice. Poplar leaves shimmer golden-yellow as the dry wind moves between them, sometimes a whisper, sometimes a shout. It's turned almost a full circle since yesterday bringing in some patchy clouds. I've decided to stay here two more nights and take a day trip tomorrow to Puente del Inca, on the edge of Parque Provincial Aconcagua. Expectation is a funny thing, but this to me is finally starting to feel like South America.

Down to the last spoonful...

Well! As they say, it´s the home stretch, the final inning, the last play... In the end I was totally reluctant to leave Africa, and already started dreaming about the next trip. It took 2 full days to get from Cape Town to Buenos Aires; though just across the water, I had to fly 'via' Dubai, in essence crossing the length of Africa twice, before reaching the Atlantic. The flight from Dubai to Sao Paulo itself was over 16 or 17 hours, my longest single flight ever, which gave me time to catch up on a few flicks that I hadn´t heard of. 'Stardust' was good fun I thought, and 'August Rush' - have you seen it? - was absolutely beautiful. Not often I´ll say that about a movie. I also watched some of 'The Long Way Down', that motorcycle journey where Star Wars dude and his friend rode from the UK down to Cape Town; they covered a lot of ground that was now familiar to me, and I already was missing the places as I saw them on screen. The flight was late getting in and I missed my connection, but there were people at the gate to assist (third party employees of course, wouldn´t expect that from an airline), and thanks to an extrememly helpful guy everything was sorted out in no time and I was on the next flight to BA. However this meant arriving in the middle of the night - or is that the morning? - and then waiting around the airport until the hostel where I planned to stay opened the next day.

 

Needless to say when I arrived in Buenos Aires I was exhausted and wanted nothing more than to sleep all day, but after a couple hours' nap I had this overwhelming feeling that there was this new place just out the window waiting to be explored. Like a little kid on Christmas morning poking you in the forehead, 'Wake up, waaaake up!!' Indeed who can resist the voice of curiosity when it chases away any hope of sleep. So I went out into the gi-normously hu-gantic city for a first glimpse, returning in the evening with a used 'South America on a Shoestring' guidebook I found in a local bookshop. I was wishing my spanish was better as there were bookshops galore with lots of good deals (not that I have any room in the budget or the backpack, but...).

 

If I haven't mentioned it before - though you may have heard this once or twice - I´m really not a city person. BA is a really nice city (did I mention it´s HUGE?) and the more time I spent I found that it's not just a nice central area and then a bunch of crummy streets on the periphery like in many places, it´s a gigantic sprawling grid of clean main streets, fancy cafes and restaurants, interesting buildings and cool statues and sculptures. But indeed the rush and traffic was only good in small doses from my perspective, so I spent most of the time seeking out parks. There´s a nice nature reserve at the river´s mouth (all the water in town is brown but I think it´s natural since it´s a giant outlet?) where it´s possible to escape the rumbles and growls of passing cars for a few kilometers. Then there was this park with an enormous metal flower sculpture; in the center of the flower you could see some kind of computerized stuff, and the stamen had glowing red tops, but the best part was at sunset when I realized that the flower had actually started to close! Past this area is the botanic garden which is small and kind of pleasant, but most notable for the multitudes of cats living inside the gates. There´s a sign at the entrance saying something to the effect of, 'don´t dump your pets here'; evidently it´s an issue.

 

If we truly are what we eat, I would have to suspect that many Argentines are made of sugar. There must be 3 or 4 sweet shops on every street corner, whether for chocolates or cakes, or grocery-store-sized shops which look normal till perusing the aisles you see that there´s not actually any real food. Breakfast was provided each morning at the hostel, and consisted of coffee/tea, a sugary orange drink, and bread with butter and dulce de leche (aka caramel, mmmmm). I started to think I could get used to though, it if it didn´t kill me first.

 

The other main objective for the last week was planning the next stage of the trip: the final 5 weeks. I came up with a few possible itineraries, and like a true addict kept wishing for just one more... just one more week!! It's never enough. I´m trying to get the most out of the last days, fully aware that soon I'll be looking back and wondering what happened to the last 14 months, and why I'm living somewhere and going to the same job every day. It was a real challenge to pare down all the things I wanted to see & do with what was actually feasible. When you travel a lot, choosing places is a lot like choosing faces: deciding who might be worth spending the time and energy to get to know, fully aware that you'll soon be on your way, and even though you know you're passing up infinite great opportunities for connectinos or experiences, there's just no way to invest in them all. Sometimes you just have to talk to someone, other times you don't even say hello because it will soon become a goodbye. Flipping through the guidebook was a lot like this, skimming over parts that could have been so good, trying to find the places I was really interested in, even though I really want to see all of them. There are a lot of miles to cover, but I managed to work out an outline with a few good stops.

 

Saying it will be tight is an understatement. With not enough days to spare and 2 extra days in the outline that I don´t have to spare, I decided that sitting still any longer would only cheat me out of other places, and left Buenos Aires without knowing if this itinerary will actually work. Time was not the only consideration either; shoestrings ain't what they used to be, especially with the ridiculous decline of the dollar (go USA), and after pricing out bus tickets it occurred to me that I was going to run out of money before the trip was over. Yikes. Work isn't an option for me in this part of the world (especially with only a few weeks to go) and the credit card comes with brutal consequences when used overseas... so I resorted to the most merciful lender I could think of, the Bank of Mom. She kindly agreed to loan me some dough (with 'terms' that go beyond generous) which means I can start eating again! This might be an appropriate time to say that I'm not by any means a financial wizard. If nobody understands how I can travel for a long time on wages that tend to be half of other peoples', neither do I. I'm just blessed. Even though I work hard and live really simply, it's not enough. And though I totally suck at budgeting, somehow things always work out. For this trip I have blown my entire savings, sold a few things and tried to keep expenses to a bare minimum, but without a few surprises along the way (for example my whole family being ridiculously generous at bday/Christmas time) I don't think I would have made it. So thanks to all of ya!! This is your adventure too, I hope you're enjoying it.

 

Yesterday I arrived on an overnight bus at the big town or little city of Mendoza. The bus was probably the nicest I've seen, and I had a front-row upper-deck seat which meant windows all around. Lots of stars that night, meal service to boot. Speaking of flicks - I'm a little out of the loop but you probably knew this already - they made a new 'Knight Rider' movie, and oh my goodness did it s-u-c-k!! I didn´t think it was possible to out-do the original in lameness, but they managed it. Took some time out of the bus ride anyway. I spent yesterday at yet another park, a huge one and really good. But the purpose in coming here was to somehow get into the mountains, which looks like it may be more feasible down the road... so I´ve got to catch a bus shortly for Uspallata. Apparently they filmed part of 'Seven Years in Tibet' here... I've got big expectations.

 

Gotta run, here's a quick quote for the road:

It is said that time is money and the truth is that it is much more than that: time is the moment of your existence and that has no price. It is your chance to be here and now, it is your linear way to experience life.  

- 'Aconcagua Summit of the Americas' by Marucio Fernandez

Too marvelous for words

No, I didn't hear anyone playing Sinatra this weekend, but there were a couple of Stevie Wonder covers, some Miles, a few old standards and a ton of great new innovations. Being at a music festival is a lot like being a kid in a candy shop - tasty treats everywhere I turn - and the Cape Town International Jazz Festival was no exception! I swear some of those musicians are super-human, the stuff they're playing is just impossible! It is really inspirational and kind of depressing at the same time. So close but so far away...

In keeping with great travel moments, standing in a jam-packed crowd enjoying the beautiful sounds and sights of Oliver Mtukudzi and co, I realized that half of the audience was singing along with all the words I've never been able to understand. People were so into it, it was exciting. Then later there was this guy from - I think Benin? - who was playing guitar in a trio, his singing mixed with clicks and mouth sounds that only someone used to African languages could begin to make. It was nice to feel a taste of Africa even in a town like this.

In a flash it's already time for me to move on, I am truly sorry to say. Africa is the kind of complex place that I think needs a lot of time, a little energy and an endless supply of dreams. In the meantime, tomorrow I'm scheduled to fly to Argentina. South America, the cool cousin to our continent!

TZ strikes again!

Would you believe that nobody in South Africa will exchange Tanzanian Shillings? Wish I knew that before I got stuck with 'em!

Another day exploring the very westernized city of Cape Town. Got my tickets yesterday for the jazz festival, on my way this afternoon!!! Yeah...

Bipolar by the equator

Tanzania succeeded at pulling me like taffy till the very end. After all my days of planning and tweaking various possible itineraries I discovered that I really could have used that 5th week I'd originally thought I had. As usual I wasn't having much luck getting organized from Dar and thought I should just get on a bus and figure it out as I went. Things were closed for the holidays (a Muslim holiday on Thursday and Easter stuff Friday-Monday) and I wasn't able to get the necessary things done, buying currency etc, before leaving. I was on the verge of getting a ticket to Malawi and just going anyway, but it turned out to be good that I didn't; upon re-working my itineraries with a little more information, I found that even if I'd left earlier in the week I would have had at very best 7 solid days on buses and only one day to stop and see anything. At this point there wasn't even time to make the overland journey straight through. So I did what you sometimes must do, what a friend calls "throwing money at it", and booked a flight.

This left a few more days in tropical paradise. Living off of bananas, avocados and mangoes from local fruit stalls, warm sunshine, water like a bathtub. I was a little disappointed that my last few days would be over the Easter holiday meaning major crowds, but found that nobody arrived until the afternoon. Mornings are always the best time anyway, the water the most calm and cool enough to be refreshing, the nearby resort taking a few hours' break from blasting their crap music, and I was happy to have this early bliss almost completely to myself. This was also a good time to get to know a few local people, which I really enjoyed.

One evening I was walking down the beach (evening of course being the crowded time, high tide, rough water, junk washing up on the beach, aforementioned loud crap music) and feeling stressed almost to the point of rage as I was wanting nothing more than a calm place to sit but had this mosquito of a person following me and droning in my ear. "I go with you, ok?" "No, leave me alone now." "Why?" "Because I said so." "But whyyy?" I finally found a tiny stretch of empty sand and buried my thoughts in sulking mode. But then as I continued to walk, a light shone in front of me. There was this stalky lady with 3 little kids, ball in hand, who had such a bright energy that she kicked it up into the air and then ran headfirst into the water to fetch it, all the kids laughing and following her. When she saw me coming she yelled out, "Rafiiikiiii!!!" [friend] and tossed the ball to me. After a few back-and-forths with her and the kids I continued on; I waved to them and one of the little girls dropped the ball as she was distracted with waving back. Then the mom thanked me. She thanked me. She had no idea that she'd just rescued my night.

Later as the sun was setting I ran into a young rasta (S) and stopped for a chat. I have this picture stuck in my head of him standing with his back to the sea waxing poetic about all kinds of things, cheshire grin glowing in the waning light as night rose behind him, carrying the full moon on its shoulders. As I walked my camp splashing along the warm water, the shining path to the moon stretched all the way to my feet. Looking back over the land, continuous lightning from the evening's storm was revealing gigantic skeleton clouds looming overhead. What a place.

Up early and to the beach on my last full day at Kipepeo, I ran into S who joined me for a walk to the sunny riverside, an outlet at the top end of the beach. Later when we stopped for a swim he whistled to a guy walking a bicycle loaded with coconuts - these guys are always around - and bought a couple for breakfast. These aren't the little brown things with the hard meat and fibrous insides, they're the nice red-blonde oblong ones like you get with Thai curries with soft meat that almost melts off the shell. The guy expertly shaved off a little of the husk with a knife and lopped the tops off so we could drink the juice, then took them back and scraped the meat from the middle with a stick. Soft and sweet, a nice coconut treat before jumping into the perfect water. Do mornings get any better than this? Later I went to the snack stand that S and a friend had just opened up, to share some fruit and some tasty fried cassava. The afternoon rains came in a big way this time, and as local people came around to wish them luck and sample the goods, soon there were a bunch of us huddled under this little grass roof. I had no idea what they were saying most of the time, but I'm used to that these days, and it was fun to watch all these people interact - some young girls, one with baby in tow, who'd come down to buy buckets full of fish, an old man who's an elder in the village, a dad and his young son... It's the kind of taste of local life that you just don't get when you breeze through a place.

But true to the wandering life, just as I was starting to get comfortable of course it was time to go! After one last early morning beach walk and one last breakfast of french toast with that beautiful honey, I packed up to go. I'd planned a lot of spare time to get to the airport so I could take local transportation (in keeping with my aim to never take another Tanzanian taxi), so I wasn't too worried when I got going a little late. I donned my pack and said goodbye to a few people where I was staying, growing sad at having to leave these smiling faces behind, and instead of the road took to the beach for some last views on my way to the village. Standing with my feet in the warm water gazing on blue sparkles and an endless stretch of sand, it was hard to pry myself away. Stopped by the stand to say goodbye to S, who kindly accompanied me to the dala dala (minibus) and wrote directions for me to get the right connection for the airport. Before boarding the ferry back into the city I had to stop at the local internet place to reconfirm my booking for a hostel in Cape Town; the sweet quiet guy working there saw my backpack and said, "Please don't tell me you're going!" which made me feel good and sad at the same time. People have a way of doing that.

I'd been to this place a few times, and this was the first time that all the computers were full. There was a 25-minute wait which made me a little nervous about timing, but I had to reconfirm my booking by noon. When I double-checked the details of my booking I found that the email said to reconfirm by early March - where did I get noon on arrival day stuck in my head?? I sent them an email to reconfirm in hopes that my booking was still good, and to request an airport pickup since I was scheduled to arrive after 10pm. Unable to retrieve email after that, I left my mobile number so they could text me, though, out of credit, I couldn't reply if they sent a negative answer. Hoping for the best.

Business done I walked down to the ferry and into the holding area where I waited... and waited... This was the first time I'd seen anything longer than a 5-minute wait for the ferry. Getting a little more nervous about getting to the airport. Once we arrived the other side I started looking for the right bus. Now short on time, I asked the first person who said hello to me where I might find the right bus. He not only pointed me toward it, he walked with me to the station and waited till the bus arrived to make sure I got on. Waited... and waited.... this also seemed to take much longer than it should have. Traffic in town. More nervous yet. The bus, like all of the little buses here, was crammed with people enjoying less than standing room. Combine this with the tropical heat that seeps sweat from every inch of skin, and a lack of handholds except the little bars of the metal luggage rack overhead which get slippery when hands are sweaty, plus not enough room to spread out my feet for balance and almost 20 kilos on my back, and it becomes challenging to stay still without knocking anyone over. Plus people exiting from behind have to squeeze and crawl past everyone in their way, impossible when one of those is wearing a full-sized pack. A man sitting close to where I was generously offered to hold my pack on his lap. Considering the weight, the slowness of the bus due to city traffic, and the still heat, I thought he was a saint. When we arrived at the airport yet more help, a guy outside the bus took my pack out the window so I could crawl past everyone without the extra load. Why is it when you try to leave a place that all the nice people come out of the woodwork? So many Good Samaritans in one day.

Needless to say, my eyes were on my watch and getting more anxious by the minute. The bus stop was about 5 or 10 minutes'  walk (probably 5 but it felt like 10) to the terminal. I went through security and up to the counter with only about 40 minutes to take-off, fully aware that the flight could be closed within 10 minutes. Should I add here that amidst all the rush for the flight what I really wanted to do was get checked in and find a toilet. I was relieved at finally reaching the counter, thinking I was safe now, but it was short-lived. As the lady tried to check me in she had to call someone else over and they informed me that my booking had been cancelled due to lack of a ticket!! I had made my booking online and received confirmation, but somehow the ticket was never actually issued. A good lesson to always look for and write down your ticket numbers; sometimes I get too comfortable with travelling and let the details slip. I asked if I could pay by Mastercard and they said No, no credit cards! Mind you this isn't some po-dunk little regional airline, it's South African Airways, member of the Star Alliance, which hails itself for great technology and ease of booking. I had to pay by cash. The lady told me to go to the ATM, "but don't delay, the flight is closing". Like I'm going to delay! Honestly. And I have to admit, amid the surprise I was also harboring thoughts that they were scamming me and my card was already charged for another ticket, but what could I do? I went back out through security to the ATM but it was broken. Somebody pointed me to another one, which had a queue that took what seemed to me ages. As I stood there I was envisioning having to get back on the bus, go back through the busy city, spend another night and do it all again the next day, and suddenly about the place I was so reluctant to leave earlier in the day I was thinking, "Get me out of here!!!!!!!!" When it was finally my turn I tried one bank card, no luck. The second, no luck. I finally had to rely on my Visa card, which never gets used at ATMs due to ridiculous cash advance fees. But I got the money.

I went back through security and to the counter, and the lady took me upstairs to the office to issue my ticket. When I got the ticket it was only for Johannesburg, not connecting to Cape Town. She said, "Oh, you didn't tell me you wanted to go to Cape Town." On the contrary I hadn't told her anything, she had my record right in front of her which is how she got my first flight info, she just didn't look. (I was not too happy with this lady and told her that she should have seen it in my record.) She booked me on a connecting flight but said I'd have to pay for this ticket separately when I got to Jo'Burg. Fine. She didn't have change to give me (only about $2 worth, but it's the principle) and didn't mention it till I asked her for it as I was leaving the counter. A guy was standing by to help and show me to the gate since the flight was about to go, and she asked him if he had any money on him. He pulled it out and handed it to her and she gave it to me, at which point I said to him, "Wait, are they going to give this back to you?!" and he shrugged his shoulders, Dunno. I really didn't believe that they would pay him back, being here and an airline, so when he said, "Can you use that where you're going? Why don't you just leave it for me?" I consented. Seriously what kind of business is this?

He escorted me through passport control and to the gate. I was fully expecting to run onto a waiting plane as it was after the scheduled departure time, but when I got to the gate and asked for the flight a lady told me it hadn't boarded yet. Finally time for a toilet stop, then they called the flight and I was soon in my seat in the very last row of a not-full flight (not that I'm complaining about the service or anything). At least I'd made it to the first half of the journey. As we took off all I could think about was getting a whiskey when they brought the drinks around, a little comfort (since they don't have pints of fudge ice cream on planes). The views out the window were amazing, gorgeous green country just waiting to be explored. I decided I have to come back soon, there's so much to see! By the time the drink cart came around I decided fruit juice and water sounded way better than whiskey, and sipped down an apple 'chooch' [as we used to call it] with much contentment.

During the flight announcements they did the usual plug for Duty Free purchases on-board. I thought it was ironic when they said you could pay by credit card. On the plane. You can't buy a ticket from a major airline at the airport with a credit card, but at 30,000 feet you can use it to buy over-priced crap.

When I arrived at Jo'Burg I discovered that the lady in Dar had booked me on a later connecting flight than I was originally on. Not only did I want to get in before midnight, I also had no way of contacting my proposed pickup. But when I purchased my ticket the lady was able to change it for me, no problems. At last after a few more hours I was on the ground in Cape Town. I checked my phone but still hadn't received any messages from the hostel. The airport facilities were mostly closed due to the hour, which I worried would make things difficult if I had to find my way into town, but no worries. When I came out into the arrivals hall there was a bright and smiling face holding a sign with my name on it! An enthusiastic person, he gave me the whole run-down on the area as we drove to the hostel, and when I arrived there was a note on the door for me and they even put my name on the bed I was to use. Now that's service!

Wide streets, shiny buildings with lighted signs, this is the biggest, fanciest town I've been to in ages. I was feeling a surprising amount of culture shock as I walked around (probably with mouth gaping) yesterday, totally not used to this kind of environment any more. In the evening was the free concert to kick off the weekend's jazz festival. When the first band started and the music filled the square, suddenly I felt like I was home. Not home a place, home a feeling. It's been a long time.

The lone Mzungu writes again...

I don't have any kind of Swahili phrasebook or dictionary, so when people teach me words interpret things for me I just have to take their word for it. I've heard two different definitions of Mzungu: one person said it means White and another said it's more friendly and means Traveler but has come to be used for most white people. Both were westerners so I don't completely believe them. Personally I think from the way people use it that it actually means Honkey. Yesterday a guy was walking down the beach selling t-shirts and one said Mzungu on it. I was so tempted to buy it and wear it every time I go into town. Hey, look over here - a honkey!!

 

I'm still trying to formulate a plan for the next step (should be doing that now instead of writing, but...). I couldn't bring myself to go into the city yesterday as I'd wasted too much time there the day before, due in large part due to dodgy P2, and the beach kept calling to me, so I've got yet one day less to get to Cape Town.

 

I've decided that I wouldn't have had nearly so much frustration thus far in Tanzania if I didn't have a combination of elements: no plan, tiny budget, small time, travelling solo. I thought for a while I wouldn't come back here alone, but then realized that's just crazy - I'll take whatever opportunity I can get! But I think the people aspect I've ranted about in the past wouldn't be so frustrating if I wasn't also worried about how much money they were trying to get out of me; and I think getting around wouldn't be so hard if I had a little financial flexibility; or if I was on a tight budget but had a better idea of where I was going, or someone to bounce things off of and split bills with; or if I had no idea what I was doing and little hope of funding it, but had time to think without being bombarded with strangers when I walk anywhere.... No one thing makes it hard, maybe not even two, it's everything together. Then again how many times do you get to land in Africa with virtually no money, no plan and nobody to talk to aside from people who think you've got it all to give freely.

 

Things are feeling better anyway. When I came back to the town 'lovingly referred to as Dar' (who would refer to it lovingly as anything I'm not sure) I ran into someone from before who looked me up & down and said, 'Ah, now you look like Africa!' Sunburnt nose, steeped in my own sweat from hours on the bus, filthy & tired. Whether I'm settling in a little or just getting used to it, it seems a bit easier to get around these days without drawing quite so much attention, or at least without noticing.

 

Passing through various towns and remote areas I've seen groups of 10 people or more doing laundry together, kind of like antelopes at a waterhole. I started to think it's a survival strategy carried into the present day - safety in numbers. Even in town, people rarely seem to be on their own unless they're going somewhere or doing business. I've started to think that Tanzanians are naturally gregarious, which would explain why they keep asking why I'm alone and trying to walk with me, or why nobody thinks twice about yelling to you from any distance repeatedly until you finally turn around and acknowledge them. Perhaps there's no concept of personal space??

 

It's a weird paradox but with so many people around sometimes I find myself wishing for company. But not random people who always seem to want something, or fellow travellers that you meet on a hi-bye basis. It would be nice to sit with a friend that I know, who knows me, and talk about familiar things or not talk at all, or listen so some favorite music and know that we've got common memories attached to it. I've been a little jealous watching people here who are locals in their own neighborhood, remembering times when I was the person walking down the street saying hi to everyone or knowing which face to look for in which window. Good times. But unfortunately you can't fit those in a backpack.

 

On the bright side [stop me if I've said this before... er, just skip this part] I was talking to someone recently about how when you travel, people just know you're gone for a while, and then one day you're back. And you can share stories and photos, but there's no way you can fit a whole trip into one or two conversations, and really nobody will ever have any idea what you've experienced. So I'm stoked to be able to share this journal, and to know that people are actually reading it. Instead of a big question mark that disappears into the background of time and distraction, people who want to can actually fill in some of the blanks. And maybe when I get back a few people will have a little bit better idea about the kind of things I've been up to all these years when I just disappear. One step closer to understanding. Doesn't everybody want that to some extent, to really be known by the people we care about?

 

And I can say oooooooooooooooooh, and everyone would know what I was talking about... (Talkin bout diamonds on the soles of my shoes.)

Far from the Madding Crowd

Back to the land of white egg yolks and mild domestic honey, otherwise known as tropical paradise. My last day in Arusha was actually rather nice. People were friendly, some would say Hi but I didn't feel bombarded with attention, and could even smile at a few people without being harassed. There are two phrases I've been hearing a lot here: poli poli, something like 'easy easy', and hakuna matata which of course everyone knows but people here tend to be very proud of having as a catch phrase. No worries. But there's one place where neither of these seems to be in the vocabulary, and that's at the Arusha bus station. I went to look for a ticket and one guy on the street started quoting me prices. As we walked toward the ticket counter other people tried to sell me tickets, and let's just say it wasn't a pretty sight. One guy reached out to shake my hand, so I reached out in return to be polite, and suddenly everyone was yelling at each other. This is also the only place so far where I've litterally had bunches of people grabbing at me to try and get business. Moving away from the crowd I decided to follow the first guy since he had the best price, and was first after all; he'd apparently decided the same thing as he grabbed my arm and started pulling me along. Of course this wasn't going to do, so I promptly removed it but kept following to the counter, where I ended up with a ticket on the same busline as I'd taken northbound but for 30% less. Drama averted, mission accomplished.

 

It was an early departure, as they all are, and as I walked to the station in the still-dark morning the most noticeable sound was the haunting morning song being projected from the nearby mosque. It was another taste of chaos at the station, but I was fortunate to watch most of it from the bus window as other people got caught up in it, occasionally yelling or even pushing each other, though it was mostly mild. I did notice on the trip that even locals at various stations were being taken by the arm or persistenly lured by ticket sellers and vendors, which was some relief that it wasn't just us obvious foreign types.

 

I managed to successfully avoid all forms of taxi on my way back into town, opting for the much cheaper mini-bus service to and from the ferry, a total cost of about a dollar (vs about 30 for a taxi!). I wasn't sure if they'd let me on a mini-bus with my pack, but not only did they take me, people were friendly and helpful. It's almost always a better idea to travel with the locals.

 

Well as they say ['they' being me and whoever decides to agree with me] Good Travel Takes Time. Today is the one-year anniversary of the start of my trip. I can't believe it!

 

I've had a few more days in tropical paradise, plus trying once again to do some travel planning and get some business done in the city. Somebody I met in town last time and ran into again on my way back, knew somebody whom I subsequently met at the campsite, who knew somebody else whom I subsequently met at the campsite too, Person #2 being quite dodgy as far as I can tell, but Person #3 being a really nice Italian-speaking Swiss guy, who lent me his guide book for a couple of days. Having a guidebook in this corner of the globe after travelling without one for some time is like opening your eyes for the first time in weeks. I was able to read up on all the surrounding countries, what to see, where to stay and how to get around them. I've been enjoying doing sections of the trip without any guidebook, but this is not one of those sections. So I came up with two killer itineraries, one with P3's help and one on my own, to get to Cape Town, but then realized as I counted the days that with limited services (some buses buses 2x or 3x/week, or the lake ferry only once/week) that I couldn't get there in time. SO... Now I've got somewhat of an idea of a possible way to go, but the internet place I'm at has a bad connection and I don't know if I'll actually get to any research today. If you're reading this it means I was able to reconnect and send without losing everything, for which I'll be grateful!

 

Ooh, connection just came back! Is that timing or what. A few last thoughts before I go...

 

1. They say when you go on a safari that everyone has to see the Big 5: lion, leopard, buffalo, black rhino and elephant. What I want to know is, what about the white rhino? What about the giraffe?! And how could a buffalo be cooler than a zebra? Is it just because it's bigger? Hippos are big too, and they're not on the list! Who comes up with this stuff?

 

2. Has anyone else noticed that you can't call a sea an ocean, but you can call an ocean a sea? Is that right?
 

3. If by some rare chance anyone happens to be reading this that gave me their email address in the last couple of months and hasn't heard from me, I lost my red notebook recently where I had a few addresses that didn't make it into my address book yet. So you're not being ignored!

 

That's all folks, back to your own lives now...

hungry hungry hippos

There were two things I most wanted to see in Tanzania - in all of Africa really - for this trip, and money woes aside there was no way I could justify coming all this way without getting there. So I spent my entire month's budget on a 4-day safari to the Serengetti and Ngorongoro Crater. I'm not quite sure how I'm going to eat next month, but was it worth it? Absolutely! I don't know how to put all of the experiences, thoughts and impressions into one entry, not to mention I've got only a short time left on this computer, so I'll just do a quick recap and will bore some of you with animal photos later! :-)

The group was 5 of us: a 60-something couple from France, a 20-something couple from Scandinavia, and myself, plus a driver and cook. All were good fun. We started at Lake Manyara, surrounded by lush greenery including the strangest trees (they say they're called sausage trees) that look like they have giant potatoes hanging off of them. Usually when you go looking for wildlife it takes a while, but as soon as we were through the gate we started seeing baboons, followed by various kinds of antelopes, and the first elephants and giraffes many over the trip. It took a while to get used to seeing African ele's after all the Asian ones I've been around. Their eyelashes are long (like the giraffes'), and even after days of sightings I never ceased to be amazed by how beautiful they are!! It's probably obvious by now that I'm kind of an ele fanatic!

On day 2 we headed for the Serengetti, past picturesque Masai villages comprised of a few little huts on a hillside and scattered herds. Seeing the Masai people with their herds or walking along the hills/plains was amazing; I was wondering if they know how incredible looking they are, draped in bright red, purple, blue, with a stride to match the elegance of their clothes swaying as they go. Sometimes there were little kids who couldn't have been more than 5 years out on their own keeping the herds, standing with as much confidence as the adults. We passed through the Ngorongoro Conservation Area on the way into the park, which gave my first glimpse of the famous crater. Several years ago I saw part of a special on the Ngorongoro Crater, and decide I had to go there one day not knowing if that was a place one could even go to. (Needless to say I was so happy to find it in the tourist info!) We stopped at a lookout for an amazing view. I was gazing back and forth across this gigantic bowl comparing what was in front of me with the picture I'd always imagined... and they matched!!

That night we camped on the plains in the Serengetti. Being a tourist trip we expected that it would be a fenced area or some kind of protected spot, but instead we got the real deal! Just a few toilets, 2 little open buildings for cooking/dining, a few vehicles and tents! At dinner we began to hear zebras barking, then later and sounding much closer, the deep huffing sound that they told us was lions. (Lions!) The trip between tent and toilet seemed a lot farther at night than it did during the day, especially seeing earlier how even in mid-afternoon the lions could so easily hide in the low grasses.

We all awoke early next morning, un-et and ready to explore. The sunrise over the plains was spectacular, and remaining clouds from the previous evening's thunderstorms gave angles to the sunlight that I can only describe as perfect. I was excited to see a couple of jackals along the road as we started our morning, smaller maybe even than coyotes. One of the best surprises of the day was a pool full of hippos, whose heads were so close together that I couldn't figure out how their massive bodies could possibly fit together under the water. They kept snorting like the spouting of dolphins as their heads came out of the water, and their ears spun like propellers. The one down side was that we couldn't get out and walk, which I was dying to do! We passed all kinds of little white, red, yellow and purple flowers, and I would have loved to spend some time just looking at trees and multitudes of interesting birds. But even from the vehicle I could hear their songs, and pick up the warm smell of the rain-soaked grass.

After the day's drive it was back to the Ng' Crater rim for the night. When we arrived and saw the lawn where the tents were pitched and larger buildings, it seemed like our camping adventure was over. But as the sun was getting low, and elephant wandered through the edge of the camp proving us wrong! It was another stormy night, even moreso than the nights prior, deep and dark with a late fog that seemed to rise out of the crater. When I went to bed that night I didn't expect that I'd have one of the coolest experiences of my life: some zebras wandered into camp and surrounded my tent! Their grass-chewing could be heard over the sound of the storm, chomp, chomp, chomp, chomp... Because of the fog they and everything would disappear when lightning flashed, and then when the darkness returned their white parts would almost glow. They were so close I could have reached out and touched them, and yet somehow they were like phantoms in the dark. I stayed up till after midnight just watching them, it was so cool!!!!!

The following morning was the realization of my dream, the drive down into the crater. Everything was fresh and green, muddy and best of all shiny from the night's storm. The views as we descended were amazing, and arriving at the bottom we were greeted by all kinds of wildlife. The crater was way bigger than it looked; as we'd drive toward one edge, suddenly a hill would appear and on the other side a hidden lake would be revealed, or a forest, or an entire new plain to discover. There were lots of animals but even more space between them... Except for the flamingos in the big lake - there were so many they just looked like a stripe of pink from a distance! I've always wanted to see wild flamingos, they were one of my faves as a kid. If I could keep one lasting impression of the crater, it would be the sound. When the jeep engine was turned off and we had time just to sit and observe, I'd notice an overwhelming silence. No drums, no British voice-over (this is what you really picture, isn't it?), just big empty space. Crickets. Air moving over the grass. The occasional honking snort sound of a gnu in distress (some of them being watched closely by lions or hyenas). Sometimes the piercing sound of a tiny bird almost hidden on a single blade of grass.

All in all it was an experience well worth all the years of dreaming. I wished I could have spent 2 weeks just in this one spot, it gained a place in my book equal to the one and only Kakadu.

As we drove back into town there were broad rainbows over the plains and hills, a complement to a perfect few days. Back at the guesthouse the expected empty stares were exchanged for hellos and welcomes. Things here are looking up...

Now I just have to figure out how to get to Cape Town in the next week, and it's proving to be a challenge!

Somebody send a memo, white is not green!

My first week in Africa has been 50% sheer frustration and 50% sheer
bliss. But I'll get to that. After I got packed & ready to leave
Kathmandu, and enjoyed a couple of hours in the sun on a restaurant
balcony watching big clouds roll overhead, I stopped into the internet
place and checked my flight details. There was some glitch in the
airline's system showing the wrong info for the wrong day from what I
can guess, because it looked like my flight was going to be delayed by
a day. Outside the sky had darkened and the weather cooled and turned
to rain; meanwhile the cold I thought was gone had come back for one
last hurrah (seeming to be affected by the level of pollution I had
the pleasure of inhaling) so as I walked back to the hotel I was all
too ready to stumble back into my room and call it a day. But when I
called the airline to verify, they said everything was on schedule.
Time for a cup of tea with the guy running the hotel before the taxi
arrived, & then I was off.

I'd decided for the rest of the trip that I had better put myself on a
budget, which with a few buffers built in worked out to $20 per day
for the rest of the trip. When I arrived at the airport with just
enough cash in my pocket for a bite to eat, I was hit with an
unexpected passenger service charge (aka departure tax) of about $30.
Budget woes already! But there was some extra built into the visa
category, so I decided not to worry too much.

The overnight in the Doha airport went much better than expected, and
when a spot finally opened up in the Quiet Room I was surprised at how
the hours melted away in sleep. At some point during the flight I
looked out the window to see what looked like endless sand below,
flats and dunes with the occasional island of rock. Eventually the
rock hills thickened, and then we hit a desolate looking coastline.
When the map came up on screen a bit later it showed that we had
passed the red sea, and what I was looking at was probably Saudi
Arabia. There were tiny white spots of roofs, not enough even to call
clusters, just a few here and there, and I was marvelling at anyone
surviving in that kind of landscape. How I wanted to land and see it
up close!!

On arrival in Dar Es Salaam, I found that the visa fee which was
formerly $50 had just increased to $100. Budget woes again!! This was
foreshadowing perhaps, as I now have a feeling that Tanzania will suck
my bank account dry before I can get out! The taxi I got into town was
- well let's just say way too much for me - but having done no
planning in advance and not even having a guidebook for this part of
the trip, I was kind of stuck for knowing where to go. The driver
insisted that I stay out at some place called Kipepeo Beach. It didn't
sound very practical being away from town and any services; I was
planning to spend a day or two getting organized and then get out of
dodge. But after seeing the sandy and inviting coastline of Zanzibar
as we were landing, and secretly longing for some beach time, I was
able to be persuaded. After I got over the sticker shock of the cab
ride, I had to give my driver credit. He had brought me to a tropical
paradise!! Not only that, but they had $4 camp sites, so I was able to
sleep in my tent, which I've been missing so much!! Instead of two
nights I stayed five.

I went into the city one day to try and get some business done - i.e.
planning what to do for the Africa portion of the trip and how to pull
it off, but with little success. It's not the most stranger-friendly
city, and after a few hours I was dying to get back to the peaceful
realm of the beach.

There's a similar aspect of salesmanship to that of Nepal, except
without the underlying grace. Needless to say, this isn't a budget
traveller's dream come true. Being obviously (you might say
blindingly) foreign evidently means dollar signs, as prices go up to
exorbitant levels as soon they see your face. And it's impossible to
walk down the beach without being approached by... well almost
everyone. In Nepal I learned to just relax and enjoy the attention,
because you could get some good conversations out of people, and they
were nice even beyond the desire for money or more. But here I'm
starting to learn the opposite. Every time I try to be nice and return
a hello or talk for a minute, it turns into some kind of annoying
request. "Let me go with you." "We walk together now." "I meet you
tomorrow, ok?" "I come sleep with you tonight." (Literally.) Nature
abhors a vacuum, and apparently Tanzania abhors an unattached woman. I
started trying to ignore the men and just be friendly to the women and
kids. But a lot of the women say hi, only to laugh when I say hi back.
And the kids... I saw a few little dirty-but-rosy-faced Nepali kids
shyly come up and say, "One pen, one candy, one poto [photo]?" and
sometimes, "One rupee?" Always with meekness. But the kids here smile
and say, "Please give me mon-ney!" often laughing as they go. Not just
the little ones, but the older ones who should know better. Hordes of
school uniforms and clean faces laughing, "Give me mon-ney!" any time
you chance a glance or smile, even when you don't. So now I kind of
want to ignore everyone.

But then there were some of the NICEST people working where I was
staying at the beach. The guy at reception learned my name in the
first day, reminded me a lot of a friend too, really sweet. And then
there are these two absolutely lovely ladies. One of them I couldn't
have shared more than ten words with before I felt like she was a
sister. When I mentioned that I was leaving for a few days she took my
hand and told me she'd miss me. Oh yeah and did I mention that it was
a tropical paradise?? The Indian Ocean on calm days like a gigantic
bathtub, beautiful blue jellyfish floating nearby, palm trees along
the sand, bright turquoise water... And then there's the African music
playing when you walk past little shop fronts, one of my favorite
kinds of music, and churches dotted everywhere.

Half of the time I want to leave and never come back, half of the time
I want to move here.

So now I'm in Arusha, after a bus ride on which I'm pretty sure I was
the only tourist (which was great!) past the most amazing green
scenery, farms, red-earth houses with palm-frond roofs, plus two taxi
rides which have made me swear that I will try my best never to take a
taxi in this country again. The second one was plain robbery. Partly
my fault because I let him get away with not telling me the price
beforehand (and I know better!) but honestly I was not looking to be
taken for that kind of ride. It kind of embittered me toward this
place, and at the moment I'm back in a get-me-out-of-here phase. Once
I can swallow the gigantic pill of what it will cost me to get to the
parks, hopefully I can just relax and enjoy them and get into a better
frame of mind, out of the busy town.

My objectives now are to get to Serengetti and Ngorongoro Crater, and
the jazz festival in Cape Town, and whatever else happens happens. It
will be a tight squeeze financially, but if I spend some more time at
$4 camping beach paradise perhaps I can at least take a dent out of
some of the expense (a comparatively small dent, but optimism goes a
long way for the mental state if not for reality!).

Ooh, I've only got 15 minutes left on this computer and haven't done
any of my business yet! Best cut this one short. Speaking of cutting
things short, did I mention that I realized recently I've only got
four weeks in Africa, not five like I thought?

Look here, brotha...

...Who you jivin with that cosmic debris?...

 

Pokhara was an easy place to chill out for a while, & has already taken the place in my memory of a pleasant dream. In the last couple of days I spent more obligatory lakeside time, and also got some time on the lake in a rented kayak. When I was a kid and there was a chance to ride a horse (at camp or whatever - yes I was a girl scout, no I'm not into chicks) I always somewhat dreaded it because it was consistently my luck to get the 'bad' one... the one that wanted to go wherever it wanted to go, to wander off and eat on the side of the trail, and try to squeeze up against logs or trees presumably to get that pesky person off its back. I was actually a little nervous before the elephant safari that I'd have the same luck with a much bigger animal, but elephants seem to be way mellower than horses. But what I definitely wasn't expecting was to get a naughty boat! I didn't think to look at the bottom before taking it out; if I had I would have seen that it was totally smooth and round (the shop specializes in river kayaks) so I ended up wrestling with it the whole time to keep from spinning in ridiculous circles. I stuck with it for a while in hopes of getting down a rhythm, but it would build up its own momentum somehow so that even as I was paddling the opposite direction, it was still spinning the way it wanted to. I thought for a while there was a gigantic compass needle built in, because a few times when I just let it go it stopped facing the mountains. Back at the shop afterward the French guy in charge said, 'Oh, you've used sea kayaks, those are totally different!' Then told me that these boats are really easy once you get used to them, after 2 or 3 times. Though the only pointer he could give me was, 'Just keep your balance.' Now I know for next time anyway! Either way, was nice to get out on the water after way too long.

 

One day at lunch I was up on an outdoor balcony when some buffaloes wandered down the street. This wasn't so unusual in itself, except that they were lowing or whatever you'd call it, and the sound was so deep and rumbly that it actually sounded like they were playing motorbike as they went down the middle of the road. Cracked me up.

 

More and more aware that my time to Nepal was coming to an end, I started to try and enjoy all the things unique to this place, like the friendly people around every corner (where else in the world are there attractive men hanging out of every shop front just waiting to talk to me... maybe I'm in Neverland!). And all the beautiful Tibetan ladies wandering the streets or sitting on blankets in out-of-the-way corners trying to sell their trinkets and beads. They have this way of saying, 'Just come looook!' that's impossible to walk past, not only because you know they're living in exile from their own home, but perhaps they're also kindred spirits in a way (I've considered making & selling beaded stuff many a time), and to top it off they're just such nice people. Fortunately I had to pick up a few presents, so I didn't have to turn down every pitch. Good for them, good for me!

 

...Now what kind of a gu-RU are you anyway?...

 

I think it would take about 2 weeks to feel like a local here, it's so easy to meet people. I wandered into a bookstore one day and met a shaman. We talked in the back of the store for a while, & he showed me volumes of perfectly hand-written materials that he's planning to turn into a book. He said he talks to animals, and can heal people telepathically from thousands of miles away. There was a section in the book about the configuration of the moles on your face and what it means for your character/destiny. Funny stuff, but kind of interesting guy if for no other reason than being so into what he's into. The best part is that at a glance he could have come from So Cal - Puma sweatshirt, long shorts, stripey Adidas skater shoes, chunky metal jewellery, long black pony tail and something between a beard / long goatee. Somehow it just wasn't surprising in this town.

 

My last lakeside lunch went late into the afternoon as the sun cooled and the sparkles on the water turned to isolated patches and the occasional wake behind a rowboat. There was music playing from a neighboring restaurant, tablas that sound like deep water, high strings carrying the melody (sarangi perhaps?), and a view to perfect the sound. In the distance there was a lady piling her 4 little kids into a rowboat, and then they pushed off as other people were launching/returning, all their tiny movements happening silently from my perspective as if giving animation to the music. And then there was an egret at the water's edge, deftly placing one foot in after the other practically in unison with the drums, its head darting under after something, then continuing to search. Finally out of nowhere the snake charmer that hangs out by the shortline started playing his reedy instrument again.

 

...Is that a real poncho or a Sears poncho?...

 

In my spare time I started reading 'A Brief History of Time' by the one & only Stephen Hawking. Smart guy (duh), good sense of humor. Some of the stuff is really glossed over, since it's just a Brief history, but then there are things in there that totally blow me away. Even moreso, how come there's basic science in this 1980s book that never made it into any classroom that I visited? Why didn't I hear about things like quarks being smaller than protons & neutrons, since they apparently discovered them before I was even born? Was everything we learned totally outdated? Who knows, maybe they already debunked that silly Theory of Evolution and we just didn't hear about it. Honestly, I can see small adaptations, but some stuff seems like it would have had to know the direction it was headed in order to develop. Never mind the human eye, that one's been overused (and is painfully obvious in my opinion). How about those moths whose wings look like owl faces? Did one happen to have a symmetrical birthmark, and then other ones that didn't have the symmetrical birthmark got eaten and somehow the shape of the mark was passed onto its descendants, and then as the descendants grew up the ones that somehow accidentally looked more & more like eyeballs were less likely to get eaten, despite any other characteristics they may have had to help them escape predators? Or how about this butterfly I saw a while ago with a fake head & antennae on the back? Was it a random deformity that somehow magically got passed down till it took the shape of something reasonable? It had to start somewhere. How about those fish with luminescent lures hanging on their faces? Where did the lure come from in the first place, and why on earth would luminescent qualities develop in any animal to which the property was totally foreign before? Just some thoughts... Maybe if I stir the pot enough some scientifically inclined person out there will give me a good argument!  ;-D

 

Sidetracks aside, me and my random thoughts were soon saying so-long to Pokhara and getting back on the tourist bus to Kathmandu. This bus was different though, a tourist bus actually full of tourists. They told us where we were stopping and how long we had for breaks. I wasn't stuck in the back corner, and wasn't bumped & jostled the whole way. The seatbacks stayed in place, and no seat bottoms fell off during the journey. When we arrived I wasn't jarred, jolted, guts in termoil and covered in dusty grime. Kind of feel like I missed out.

 

Any time I return to a big city it seems to be twice as busy as I remember it, and with the weather warming up and more tourists arriving by the day, Kathmandu was no exception. I wandered out to a non-tourist area and found myself in classic city chaos, stinky cars everywhere, vehicles crowding into narrow streets and honking till enough room was made for them to pass...

 

Last night I had dinner with the owner of the company where I booked all of my pre-arranged stuff for this part of the trip. One final detail that made me totally impressed with the whole operation. Apparently he works 7 days a week organizing trips & schedules for 20 guides on staff (not to mention porters), plus runs a guesthouse, and still has time to take clients out to dinner. He was a wealth of information on the current situation in Nepal, having a dad who's a former teacher and current politician of some sort. But I liked most was how he kept referring to past clients as friends, and taking the effort to leave a positive image about the country even though there was realistically nothing left to sell to me at this point. Classic friendly Nepalese, good business and a great last impression.

 

So how about some royal scandal? Some time ago a bunch of the royal family was killed, & the prevailing opinion seems to be that the current king (the then crown prince, their son/brother) is the one who killed them. Part of the election coming up will be to determine if Nepal actually needs a king or not. One opinion shared is that the king is actually behind a lot of the bombings & other termoil, maybe to get the election delayed so he doesn't get ousted. There's so much happening right now, it'll be interesting to see what happens to the country in the near future.

 

Well it's probably time to say hasta for now. Hope this one wasn't too rambling, I'm really not in the mood to write right now, but I wanted to get this done before forgetting everything, and somehow suddenly the page is full of words. I've got less than 2 hours till I have to catch a taxi to the airport, on to Doha (3rd time just seeing the airport, maybe one of these days I'll actually get to stay & see some of Qatar!)... & the next morning to Dar es Salaam.

 

I'm reluctant to leave Nepal, a magical place in so many ways, but I have great hopes of coming back to spend more time in the future. And then there's this new place on the horizon that I'm totally stoked to visit...Lord willing, the next time you hear from me I'll be in Africa!!

 

Namaste for now...

 

[P.S. Extra credit if you're singing Zappa right now.]

Camo: Super sneaky or super creepy?

Throughout the years I've always had some kind of irrational (or maybe rational) fear of people wearing camouflage. Maybe it's one too many psycho-commando movies, or the fact that some of them carry big weapons and don't tend to smile a lot. But I'm starting to get used to seeing people in camo. Here the National Parks are all overseen by the army, there are military posts and checkpoints in various places and in the city many of the police types wear blue/grey camo -- perhaps would be more effective on the water than in a city, but I'm not going to tell them that. At least I've gotten to see some of them as real people, talking to friends, hanging out, having a smoke or a laugh. I can even walk past without shuddering now. On the other hand I should clarify that this absolutely doesn't apply to civilians. Civilians should never, ever, no never be seen wearing any article of clothing in camouflage (unless of course they're hiding in the woods, and then I don't want to know about it). It's just creepy. I was trying to think if I'd offend anyone by writing this, but I don't think I've ever seen anyone I know wearing camo. Maybe because I've never talked to anyone wearing camo long enough to get to know them. Because they scare me. Apros-pos of nothing, a word to the wise. Just don't do it.

 

My head started to clear a little the other day [if you're seriously doubting this after that last bit, so am I] and I realized that I only had a few short days before I had to get back to Kathmandu for my onward flight. I've been itching to get back into the hills but, having to spend some more time sleeping off the cold (think I'm finally winning!) combined with an upcoming departure didn't leave enough room for another trek. Hopefully there will be a next time so I can really delve into the area. This is a gateway to the Annapurna ranges, which means there are sooooo many good walks to be had!! People you meet always ask if it's your first time in Nepal; I can only think this means that everyone who comes once comes back, it's just that kind of place.

 

In the meantime, fortunately Pokhara is a great place just to hang out, even just to wander around town and grab a meal somewhere. I've been looking for little out-of-the-way nooks in hopes of finding less touristy restaurants, sometimes with great success. Cheaper food and yet so much better, simple and home-made. Yesterday I found a restaurant (a little more touristy scene) with a lakefront garden, sun shining down and great views. There are all kinds of Tibetan ladies wandering around town with backpacks full of handmade jewelry & things; one of them found me yesterday and asked me to look at some stuff after lunch. Why not? As I went out onto the lawn and she spread out her blanket-full, some locals started a game of cricket right next to us. Suddenly I felt like a little kid on the school playground, sitting on the ground playing with beads and shiny things. Except that instead of little kids it was me and this sweet Tibetan lady, and her collection was about 100 times bigger and better than mine. Fun.

 

Today I got out for the first time of actually doing something. The guy from the hotel where I'm staying offered to go with me up into the hills, so we headed to Sarangkot which is supposed to have some of the best views around. It's not the best season for views and the sky is always veiled in some humid haze, but we did get to see some big white mountains. Some amazing big white mountains that don't even look physically possible. There are dark mountains below, and then it looks like somebody cut out the Annapurnas and just stuck them on top. They're huuuuuge!!! And the shape of Macchapucchre next to the other mountains... it's possibly the most spectacular peak I've ever seen. They say it's a holy mountain and nobody is allowed to climb it. No wonder.

 

I neglected to take another great photo, thinking I'd get it on the way back down, but we went down a different way. An up-close view of a typical farmhouse like some of the ones we saw from the bus window after the trek last week: bright green terraces with bright yellow mustard flowers, in front of an orange clay-looking house. Amazing colors in a totally subdued setting. Some of the mustard fields last week were flanked by light purple flowers, completing the canvas. Pictures worth thousands of words that I can't even begin to come up with.

 

After enjoying views from the top of Sarangkot and watching 7 eagles soaring around in the thermals, and then a bunch of paragliders crossing their paths, we headed back down into town. A nice walk to stretch the legs. In the afternoon another lakeside lunch at a different place, watching birds and butterflies and sparkly water. Could get used to this for sure. Did I mention it's warm?

 

I was going to make this a short entry but maybe it's getting long. And kind of scattered. Like my trip. Lots of things to cram into a short space. World a la carte... travel dim sum.... a sushi train trip... or as a hilarious Greek once put it, a spaghetti odyssey. (Yeah, Greek, odyssey, I thought it was pretty ironic too.) I think I like that one best though.

 

Hey did I mention that I saw Tibet? On the way out to Langtang we stopped at a checkpoint to sign in, and then walked up the road and D pointed to the mountains in the distance and said, 'That's Tibet'. Talk about cool.

Party like it's 2056, the entry otherwise known as Yakkety-Yak (and it's a long one!)

It's become very clear that I'm oblivious when it comes to ungulates. I was just walking down the street to find this internet place when I came across a very lost-looking herd of wandering... uh.... Yaks? Cow-yaks? Ox-yaks?? There were lots of yaks in the mountains and I'm pretty sure these are different, but honestly I can't say. All I know is that they're wandering around town with blank expressions, some of them in the middle of the street turned around looking at other ones, some strayed off on their own nibbling bushes, others blocking traffic and getting honked at. Kind of like tourists.

 

So, where did we leave off? First I should give credit where credit is due: that kid I mentioned last time with the 'fake ID', maybe wasn't a fake. It didn't occur to me until I saw some school uniforms that said 'Est 2047' that in these parts people might use a different calendar! Glad I didn't laugh in his face, though I still feel ok about not buying a pen since it's not a great habit to give money to kids on the street. Anyway I had a couple more days in Kathmandu getting stuff organized, during which I was approached by the countless masses of salespeople as well as 2 different shop owners asking me to sell jewels for them internationally (I'd read about this one too, must get some bites if they keep trying, but honestly?). I ran into the local musician/guide I had met with the Korean group, and ended up having a Nepali drum lesson up on the roof of his office. Talk about atmosphere, rooftop views, evening light and cool beats. His organization promotes livelihood and awareness of/for people of the lowest (or 2nd lowest) caste in Nepal, the musicians. I've been quizzing everybody I meet on politics, economics, the government, the Maoist movement, and the fascinatingly still-active caste system. I also found out that the power is indeed on rotation, everyone goes without for 8 hours a day; it tends to go in 4-hour blocks, and somehow always when you miss it most even though it changes daily. On the bright side (ha, that wasn't even meant to be a bad pun) I've gotten really used to dining, reading, & doing just about everything by candlelight. Now when the power comes back on I just keep the lights off & candle burning because it's so much nicer.

 

Before I knew it it was time to pack up, throw some stuff in the luggage storage room at my hotel and catch the early bus out of town. From the time he met me at the hotel, I could tell that my guide (whom I'll refer to as D) was the right person for the job. I'd been a little worried about spending a week with someone who acted like an employee or worse yet a servant, but he acted more like a friend, while not neglecting to take care of a single detail. If you look at a map of Nepal, the Langtang area is about a finger-width from Kathmandu, and one of the closest spots for mountain access. It took about 7 hours by bus to reach our destination of Syabru Besi. Fortunately with pre-booked tickets we were lucky to have seats in the front (I learned the difference later). The road was bumpy and dusty and extremely windy, following the contours of the terraced hills. There were men hanging out the front door for the whole trip watching the tires to make sure we stayed on the road; sometimes they jumped out and walked alongside the bus, always whistling & tapping so the driver knew where to go. A lot of this road would have been questionable in a small manoeuvrable car; I was thoroughly impressed with the driver's (and spotters') ability to hold it all together.

 

A day in a bus was a journey enough, & we stayed in SB for the night. At dinner I met two guys who were doing volunteer medical work near Kathmandu, one from Australia and one from the USA, who were just on a break to do some trekking. The next morning D and I started off early. Walking down toward the river, we passed through the first I would see of village life: early morning sun streaming down through dusty haze between little houses, chickens wandering around and some cows peeking out from behind dark little enclosures, people sitting in front of their houses or getting about their quiet morning business, prayer flags hanging overhead. It would have been an epic photo, but I thought I wouldn't want somebody coming into my room & taking a photo of me 1st thing in the morning, so I decided to try and capture it with words instead, to little justice no doubt. We crossed the river and followed the trail up next to the water. Unfortunately the map I'd purchased the night before was too broad to give me an idea of the day ahead (1:136,000 with tiny 100-meter contour lines) and I just noticed that it was following the river, not paying attention to the contour lines crossing the river all the way up. Admittedly Day 1 kicked my ass. I guess you can't go from 2 wet, wintry months in a city straight onto a trail and expect to be in condition, but I had a few other things going against me. The coughs and sneezes I thought were the result of a dusty bus ride the day before were evidently turning into a cold. The crackling in my left knee which I've been ignoring for the last year and a half decided to turn into a problem. And my guide, after telling me that he had a wife and 2 kids, kept hitting on me. (Credit for honesty anyway. I thought about sending him home, but aside from this one glaring flaw he really was the perfect guide, so I kept him.) As the trail climbed up-up-up, mostly a series of little steps, I felt the crackling in my knee (normally worst on steps) grow into a tightness and eventually a fairly painful strain. First day out and I was super discouraged. We kept on until our planned stop for the night, but by that time the little voice of reason in the back of my head (is it ever small!) was telling me to take a rest day. The other voice of course arguing, Already?!! After all the time I've dreamed of coming here... But even wanting something for years doesn't change the reality of your current physical state. The walk wasn't without its high points, namely beautiful valley scenery and the sight of a few langur monkeys hanging out on the boulders below, white manes & black faces making them look so expressive even from a distance. This night I had the pleasure of a nice warm solar shower with a view of the forested river valley below, something I'd never experienced in the mountains. When I came out the sunset caught on the opposite mountainside was glowing orange as a tangerine. I came into the kitchen where the wood stove was burning and hung up my towel, then sat down by the fire with D and the family running the lodge. Little did I know this was to be the norm on this trip - beautiful traditionally dressed Tibetan ladies with rugged husbands and kids around, sharing their family home with you till you retire to your guest room out back. All meals freshly cooked from scratch. Warm firelight and conversations to follow even though I had no idea what they were saying most of the time. It was amazing. That night I was provided with the first of many local treats leftover from the Tibetan Losar festival that I'd get to try on this trip, this one chhang, or home-made rice beer.

 

We got up early in the morning in case we decided to walk on, but reason won over this time. I figured I could push on for another day and have the same strain in my knee, or I could totally defy my impatient nature and sit still with the hopes of a better Day 3. I rubbed on some Biofreeze and popped another Ibuprofen, to follow up on the 2 I had the day before, in my case a sign of desperation to get better (probably only the 4th time I've had Ibu in 10 years). The breeze was cold but the sun was warm. I sat for a while under some colorful waving prayer flags, enjoyed some fresh momos and ginger tea (mmmmm) and later found a spot on a big rock by the river to spend a while. When we were kids we used to go to the Sierras every year and camp by the Kern; no matter what we were up to, there was always time to sit by the river, read, think, watch the water flow by, hear worlds of mystery in its sound... I haven't had a day like that in years, and it was much needed; the benefit of sitting still turned out to be far greater than the disappointment of having to. In the evening there were all kinds of little kids running around. Families were making their way down from the mountains to take their kids back to town for school, after the Losar holiday. They were mischievous, red-cheeked, runny-nosed, and everything you'd expect from a kid on holiday; at the same time really sweet and absolutely adorable.

 

Some first observations that would continue through the rest of the trip... Amazingly good kids, helping out around the home, doing chores and not complaining about anything, and very strong too, as their parents are. Poor mountain people wearing all kinds of brand names (TNF, Patagonia, Mtn Hardwear) - there are so many knockoffs made in the country, here you can't tell anything about a person's wallet by the brands they wear. Other gear hanging around, LED headlamps, Nalgene bottles, a Leatherman Squirt... I wonder if they were obtained in gear shops or left by travellers. There's gear everywhere here; after the initial surprise is good to see that the mountain communities have access to some useful stuff too. Up in the mountains, all the traditionally dressed ladies are sporting hiking boots or running shoes under their dresses.

 

I awoke on day 3 with some anticipation; would my fears of having to turn back and scrap the whole trip come to fruit, or would the knee be miraculously better even though it felt the same through all of the previous day? Fortunately there was some sign of relief, and happy to move on I wrapped it tight with that Ace bandage I've been carrying in my pack for years but never once used, and continued on. It was a perfect day walking up the river valley. Pleasant walking in the forest, nice views, a trail not without its ups & downs but plenty of variety and absolutely perfect. We ran into some yaks, one of which looked like it was about to charge till D acted like he was throwing a rock at it, walked past a little shed containing some prayer wheels positioned in the stream so as to be always turning, all in all had a quiet and beautiful day. We came out of the forest to a plateau area on the mountainside with little scattered villages. Past the buildings the landscape grew stark and silent. The sun was hot and dry, as it gets at high altitude when there are patches of ice on the ground yet you need protection from its heat. Suddenly in this desolate stillness we came across a weathered old man sitting on the side of the trail spinning a hand-held prayer wheel, saying in a deep croaky voice, 'Buy - sell - Tibetan calendar'. Out of nowhere, it made me think of a 'Choose Your Own Adventure' book - You're walking across the empty plateau, you see an old man. Buy a calendar? Turn to page 146.

 

Our destination was Langtang, at about 3500 meters. Looking up at the mountains towering overhead we could have easily been on a valley floor, but for the 2 days' walking and the endless valley tumbling down below. A humbling experience being among these geological giants! The area was beautiful and exposed. From evening to morning cold winds would come across the landscape, leaving everything but close fireside absolutely chilled. Fuzzy horses roaming around the yard, chickens wandering into the kitchen (as everywhere), more tasty chhang, another welcoming family... the perfect place to spend 2 nights. I didn't realize quite how cold it was when we arrived in the afternoon. I went to avail myself of the toilet and solar shower facilities, and found that everything was frozen solid! The lady was nice enough to boil up some water and give me a cup & bucket to clean up with, which was warm and refreshing as I poured it on, and then instantly freezing-cold on my skin. I wasn't able to warm up that night until long after I got into my sleeping bag, a setback in the cold recovery. D asked for an extra blanket for me before we all turned in, and the lady asked if we were sleeping together (to which I burst out laughing with an emphatic 'No!!') Lots of host ladies have asked that, apparently it's common here or even moreso I suspect that my trusty guide has quite a reputation in these parts. Aside from the fact that western women seem to be perceived as extremely easy (and probably are) I felt like hanging a sign around my neck that said, 'Not one of them' so all those looks and nods would stop.

 

We reached our farthest destination of Kyangjin as a day-hike, saving a day for the end of the trip. As we headed out in the morning there were drums being played somewhere in Langtang village. Another perfect day's walk, over silent but spectacular high terrain, past little villages and a whole lot of empty space, huge valley below and gigantic mountains above. When you dream of taking a big trip for years of your life, there are pictures that come into your head of what things might be. Big mountains, feeling sun-baked and wind-swept, looking out over an amazing vista that you've never seen anything like except perhaps a small representation in a book or film... This was one of those days where the dream becomes a reality, except that I couldn't have dreamt up anything this good. Click. Another notch on the zip-tie. I looked around and felt for the first time that this round-the-world trip was actually a success. I enjoyed the day watching birds soaring silently overhead, mini-avalanches in nooks on the mountains above, flag-strewn villages so colorful in the intense mountain sun. At Kyangjin we stopped for lunch in a little kitchen where I watched the lady whip up everything from scratch (as they do). If there's one thing I envy in other ladies, it's culinary prowess; watching someone who's an expert in her kitchen makes me wish I'd learned to cook like a real woman. I don't think it matters how much I learn later in life, it will never be so instinctive for me as it is for them. But we can't do everything in life, right? As we started the trip down I snapped a few photos and tried to stop as much as possible to take in the view, 360 degrees of snow-covered peaks like the rim of a bowl around us.

 

Back at the guesthouse a few other trekkers showed up, 2 couples and a guide. As it turns out all of the westerners in Nepal are apparently sick. Some of them had stomach bugs (thank God I've been spared of these so far!), others I met had colds; but it's not just visitors, all the locals are sick too! Even D was coughing and sniffling down the trail the whole time. At least it's not just me. This house had a separate room with wood stove for visitors, and electricity to boot, so they put on a Nepali movie for us. I'm not a Bollywood expert, but I imagine if one was filmed in somebody's backyard it would be a Nepali film. Surprisingly good Shakespearean plot elements though, beside the ever-present song-and-dance and street-fighting bits. After everyone cleared out the other guide started asking about all of my rings; in my own silent way, this was the evening I hit my limit. If one more person examines all the rings on my fingers one by one and then asks me why none of them is from a special someone, I swear I'm going to scream. I know it's shocking in some places to be 31 and single, but fielding questions about it gets really old. One person actually asked why I don't want to be married. As if that has anything to do with it!! I'm sure you can just click your heels 3 times and spin around, and Voila! I'm starting to think there's a magic formula that no one is sharing with me, where the right person just appears and it's just that easy. Other people have said, 'But don't you want to have kids?' Maybe it's just me but I think that's putting the cart before the horse just a little?? On a happier note, I asked D what 'Didi' means because the man running the guesthouse used it with me [his wife is 40] and he said it's a term you use with a woman who's older than you. Nice. At least the people who called me Didi in the coming days, ones with wives and kids and businesses and all kinds of grown-up lives, could actually have been younger than me. Anyway when you find yourself, as I was not too long ago, being admonished by a 23-year old who's way too aware for his age & gender that the Clock is Ticking, I guess there's no point in denying that time is indeed marching on.

 

As for D & me, time had indeed marched on and we were soon headed back down the valley. These routes are regularly used by people carrying loads up to the villages, bundles of wood, various goods, all the stuff in bottles that don't get there by magic. Nepalis are amazingly strong people. Watching these men silently plodding uphill with 60 kilos on their backs, heads down under the weight of the load, one steady foot after another, like weary shadows... the way the women can be brightly clad as flowers and tend farms or carry their own loads on their heads, tiring for sure but never losing their elegance... the way the kids help out with the work and carry small bundles, or run around the mountains... these people are just amazing. I really think such physical endurance has to be accompanied by incredible strength of character and perseverance.

 

As always, downhill is always a relief from uphill until you actually get into the swing of it. When I woke up in the morning I was feeling absolutely lousy from the cold, which got me off to a slow start in the first place, but I thought a day of walking, fresh air and sun was the best way to combat the bug blues. As the knees started wearing on the descent and muscles getting tired I slowed down even more (poor D was so patient to look after me & offer a hand more often than needed); again the last 6 months of non-mountain time coming back to me all too clearly now. Perhaps walking wasn't the best cold remedy after all; after lunch I was so fatigued that when we started walking again I felt like I was half-asleep and dreaming. It was only 1-1/2 or 2 hours to go, and I didn't want to stop so early in the day, so we pressed on. By the time we got down to our guesthouse at Bamboo I had a classic case of jelly legs and could feel the cold creeping in as soon as we stopped. After changing into some dry clothes we met at the wood stove, where D procured some 'local wine' for us, a 'great cold remedy' (indeed) mixed with some coffee and butter. This was no wine, it was made from millet and tasted more like rum or something. And good. After 2-1/2 glasses, some dreamy potatoes and firelit conversation, I realized that there was music, and there were 2 guys sitting across from us, one playing a little stringed instrument and both singing from time to time. After the mildness of the chhang this one kind of hit me, and like nothing I've ever had before. Perhaps the fatigue of the day played a part, but I had no idea when those guys came in. An early night to sleep, hoping the 'cold remedy' would work its magic.

 

Sometimes pushing on is the right thing, sometimes it's not. As I woke in the morning shaky legged and without an ounce of energy, I realized that we'd gone too far the day before. On the bright side we didn't have to cover all of that ground today (something I wanted to avoid) but we would have to decide whether we'd go out the way we came, or make the ascent up to Syabru and take an extra day to finish. Really wanting to take the higher route, spend longer on the trail and see something new, I was battling the feeling that I had used all of my reserves the day before. Once or twice in my life I've had that feeling of total exhaustion, where your body wants to cry and it has nothing to do with your mind or emotions. I remember one year in the Sierras sitting by a river and Scotty saying, 'What's wrong, why are you crying?' and trying to explain as I gnawed on a cold Power Bar that nothing was wrong, my face was just doing that and I didn't know why. This morning I was just on the verge, but managed to hold it together. I couldn't decide what to do, so we plodded along making our way down to the junction. We stopped 10 minutes before, 2 minutes before, but I had to see the actual trail as if that would make the decision for me. Instantly when I got a glimpse of what we could be missing ahead, I smiled, "Let's go up!" Maybe it was a decision whether to be strong or weak, or maybe a decision whether to be foolish or smart. This time I chose strong, and it worked. My spirits lifted as we headed up the switchbacks. Somewhere up the hill we saw a langur, & then turned around to see an entire hillside full of them. We stopped a while to watch, I for one totally lost in wonder. The climb to Syabru wasn't nearly what I was expecting, and in no time we were sitting at the top of the most beautiful little terraced village having lunch and tea. The trail became an ambling forested path as we continued around the mountain down to our next night's stay, I got the view I was hoping for and found a village to remember, and knew that we'd made all of our goals for the trip.

 

That night we stayed at what was probably the poorest house of the trip, which meant a tiny kitchen packed with local people talking and little kids running around (plus the ubiquitous chicken, which the littlest girl, probably 2 or 3 yrs old, picked up and cuddled at one point and it was the dang cutest thing ever). Here D bought some home-made apple brandy, one more treat for the trip. I was pretty convinced he'd been trying to get me drunk the whole time, but I have a little more control than that, and who am I to pass up a chance at some local specialties if someone else is footing the bill? The family sat around talking in a different dialect that D said he couldn't interpret for me and looking straight at me as they spoke. Sometimes it's better not to know; I just smiled and looked back.

 

Last day on the trail, the ground was soft as if covered in a thin layer of flour with some damp pine needles, the air filled with misty fog, everything silent. It's a little early in the year but occasionally we'd pass some vibrant red blossoming rhododendrons. After a while on the sweet ambling path and then down to the road, soon we were walking into Dhunche from where we planned to get the bus the next day. As the sounds of vehicle-accessible town, with its luxuries, more people, radios, all sorts of noises, filtered into my perception, I realized I wasn't prepared to face the 'big town' again. Happens every time.

 

We found out there was a bus strike happening due to petrol shortage, high prices and a few other reasons. Waking early the next morning and packing up in case the bus was running, we were advised that it definitely wasn't. Apparently if a driver decides to make the trip, others on strike may attack the bus, so they advise from Kathmandu if it's ok for him to proceed or not. As it turned out the strike would probably last a few days, so we were to wait around and see if a jeep would come through with enough room for us. The first that came through was full of people, so we continued to wait. I spent the afternoon finishing my book (Reinhold Messner's quest for the Yeti) while D went back and forth getting the latest news & making arrangements. As the afternoon seemed it would slow to a screeching halt with nothing left to do, a group of dusty trail-beaten travellers walked in the door: a Spanish couple with guide & porter that I'd seen on the trail but not actually met, as well as the Aussie & fellow West-coaster from the lodge at Syabru Besi. It was nice to see some familiar faces, and in a couple of hours the 8 of us were cramming into a jeep for the bumpy, long, dusty ride back to the big town. It was dark before we got back but our driver did an admirable job of navigating the roads. Somehow in my half-asleep state and having to run up to D's office to get my tickets for the next day, I managed to lose track of the group including the volunteer duo, who I really wanted to keep in touch with; 2 adventurous souls who seem to have big hearts and big dreams. I was absolutely distraught, & wandered around town in hopes of catching someone again, but to no luck. Maybe those 6 degrees of separation will work for me one day.

 

With just enough time to grab my guidebook, vitamins and camera battery out of the luggage room, grab some sleep and the first shower in too many days, I was off again early in the morning for 3 days & 2 nights in Chitwan National Park. Back on the bumpy road in the tourist bus (they keep their own stock of petrol), my guts just settled from the night before, I was assigned to the very back seat in the bus. But this time instead of a comfortable person squished next to me there was just a hard cold window that kept opening itself. As I was booked on a package, the Chitwan program was quite organized. From the bus I was shuttled to the lodge in the back of a little pickup with benches, along with a middle-aged Italian and a Hungarian who might as well have been middle-aged. (Again, all of us sniffling & coughing.) It was a fairly relaxed weekend despite all the activities, and aside from having to sit through 3 days of western-style meals knowing that there's fantastic Nepali food being made in every house down the street, it was great. A cultural show the first night turned out to be way better than expected, with a couple of old men drumming and singing, and a bunch of younger guys doing all kinds of athletic dance moves simulating battle techniques or other traditional ceremonies. (I was way more impressed than the 2 guys with me, but perhaps that goes without saying...) By the 2nd day I was convinced that I was getting used to seeing elephants wander down the street... but then realized that's silly! My jaw drops every time, they're just amazing! The way the move, the wrinkles on their faces, they're so beautiful!! After taking a wooden canoe down a misty river we walked back through the jungle, spotting monkeys and amazingly cool Hornbills. Back in town we saw the filming of a Nepali movie in progress (apparently they learn all the dance moves on the spot). A few people working at the lodge were sick too, and one of them introduced me to Sancho, a wonderful ayurvedic blend of herbs (euc oil, peppermint etc) which works magic on sore and stuffy heads, of which mine was about the max. I had just enough time to track down some Sancho of my own before it was time for the elephant safari!! My first-ever elephant ride, where we took to little people-sized jungle paths in search of wildlife, getting whacked by tree branches and foliage the whole way. The mahout, who looked from my angle looked like he was walking a normal stride as he sat on the elephant's neck, did a good job of fielding most of the branches with his stick as we approached. It didn't take long to spot a family of rhinos, which were amazing!!!  I think we saw about 8 rhinos that day, all of them as fascinating as the first. Oh my goodness. And from the back of an elephant!! There were lots of beautiful spotted and barking deer, and even a macaque (mmmonkey!) and some wild peacocks. We were supposed to get a jeep back to the hotel, but they ran out of room and let us go on another elephant, this one huuuge!! Two elephant rides in one day, does it get better than that?!!! On the last morning we went to the government elephant breeding center. I was expecting a walk down the road, but we piled into the back of the pickup and drove down the misty dirt road, past a row of elephants getting ready for the day's work, mud & stick huts, people doing their morning business outside, schoolkids on foot or bicyle in their perfectly pressed uniforms, cows-chickens-goats.... till we reached the end where a little rivulet could just be seen through the fog. There was an old man sitting on the bank who got up silently as we approached and piled into his canoe, and paddled us to the other side. At the center was a baby ele with its mum, just born the day before. It was soooo beautiful!! As we walked around to look at a few other ele's, a young one on the loose came up to us looking for treats. I almost got pinned between it & the fence & had to scoot away, but felt its rough side with coarse hair as I passed by. Ooooooh!!!!

 

Alas it was time to get back on the tourist bus, this time headed for Pokhara. This driver was fast and exceedingly brake-happy, and the seat-backs were all floppy, which made for a lot of people being thrown into seats in front of them over the bumpy road. But the river valley views and terraced farms were again spectacular, and what's a day in the life when you end up somewhere like this? When I got to Pokhara it was surprisingly warm, a mellow town comparatively chock-full of tourists, and an easy place to chill out for a while. I took the first 'taxi' offer as I stepped off the bus, actually a moto (finally! i've been feeling cheated riding on 4 wheels all the time), & the guy took me to what turned out to be his own hotel. Good salesmanship with the expected amount of trickery, and when I saw the nice room with two sides full of sunny windows, the price only a little higher than I told him I wanted to pay, I was sold. It's been too foggy to see any mountain views, but it gave me all the more excuse to spend all of yesterday in bed. The head was pounding all day, a little better today but I still didn't get out & about till about 3pm.

 

I've been at this computer for - whoa!!! - over 3 hours writing this... lots of stuff to catch you up on! & Will go to bed early tonight, trying once & for all to kick this nasty cold. I'd love to get out into the hills again, but right now I'm back at square one. I've been asking people all along the way if it's ok to go walking alone (even 1 hour to the pagoda above town), hoping that just one person will give me the answer I want to hear so I can ignore all the others, but nobody will. So again I have to lasso a trekking partner or think about taking another guide. Though my guide experience was great, I think I've had enough organization to last the next few months, & would love to keep things on the informal side. Problem is if I want to meet somebody to walk with I have to be sociable, and right now I really just want to crawl into a hole till my head stops aching and eyes stop squinting. 

 

------------ 

 

I forgot to mention before, when I was leaving Ireland a few weeks ago a friend said to me, 'Good luck, I hope you find whatever it is you're looking for.' It took a second to register that at the start of this whole shebang, I did feel like I was looking for something. Maybe many things. The next step? A new direction? Even just the experiences that can only be gained from discovering the world around you. Whatever it was and however it happened, I realized in that moment that the searching feeling was gone, I'd moved onto new thoughts. So the objective for the rest of the trip, just to enjoy it and learn as much as possible, to take in as many images and impressions as I can, in hopes that my mind will be so stained that 'normal' American life ceases to be such a distraction. I guess you'd call it global awareness or something, but it sounds so dang cliche.

 

Ooh, have I told you the rest of the trip plan yet??? My big brother said he needs me to be back in WA in May, so I've cut down the time and condensed things a bit. I've got a plane ticket for the beginning of March into Dar Es Salaam, Tanzania, and then 5 unplanned weeks to figure out how to get from there to Cape Town, South Africa. [Right now at least 2 people are probably thinking, 'But there's trouble in Kenya!' Don't worry, I'm not brave/stupid enough to venture there on my own right now.] I'm hoping to hit a big jazz festival in Cape Town at the end of March. Then I've got a ticket from there to Buenos Aires, and 5 weeks to figure out how to get from there to Quito, Ecuador, for my May flight to Seattle. Hopefully the open sectors will work out overland, and I'll get to see some cool stuff along the way!!

 

In the meantime I've got a little over a week left to find me a Yeti...

Notches in the zip-tie of life

I've developed a habit of following strangers into alleys, down hidden nooks and up dark stairways; this is where stuff gets done. Of course there are some fakes out there, like the guy who came up to me on the street proposing guide services & showed me his 'business card' which was very worn and not too cleverly concealing a stack of worn cards from various other companies (he must collect them), or the kid who asked me for school funding showing me a very legit photo ID which I could swear said he was born in 2046 (good work, but a slight glitch)... but sometimes you've just gotta go with it. After my last journal post wanting to get out of town & not knowing how to go about it - aware that it was Friday afternoon and I didn't know if I could make any arrangements over the weekend - I was walking up the street enroute to my nabbing-traveller-from-cafe plan when yet another guy stopped me to see if I needed a trekking guide. (Honestly it happens about every 10 feet down the road.) I followed him to his office, expecting a little hole in an alleyway somewhere, and found a real sign outside for a real travel business, a real sign on the door upstairs, real desks and chairs and photos on the wall... So I waited around while they brought in the 'big man' to talk to me about trips. As it turned out the price was decent, and he was also able to arrange a few other things for me including a mountain flight and a 3-day trip to Chitwan Nat Park. Tomorrow I'm off to Langtang for a week-long teahouse trek with a guide and potentially one or two other people.

 

Travel plans are all about reconciling what you want to do (in my case pretty much everything) with what you can actually do within your time/budget (never enough), making the most of this trip, with the hopes of a future trip for the things you missed. I'd been thinking about doing a walk in the Everest base camp area, but it looked like anything less than 2 weeks wouldn't do it justice, and I really didn't want to spend that long in one spot as it would eat up time which I needed to see a few other things. But who can go to Nepal without seeing Everest?! So I splashed out, as they say, for a 1-hour scenic mountain flight. It was a cold but sunny morning. As we rose above the valley haze and I got my first real glimpse of the white-capped Himalaya I almost wanted to cry. It was just one of those things, spectacular and mystical in the same time, what I'd always imagined from pictures & films, but too close to those pictures to be believed. We cruised up the length of the range, turned after we got to the back-side of Everest, and back down again. Shishapangma, Lhotse, Ama Dablam - all the peaks I used to sell gear named after, towering before mine eyes! The little plane reminded me of the ones they use on the route between Adelaide & Kangaroo Island, & suddenly I had this realization: Life is like a zip-tie. One of those ones with the plastic thread and the conical stops. --<-- --< -- --< You go along doing your thing, all the miles and experiences adding up, and suddenly you pass this point where you realize that none of what you've experienced can be taken from you. Click, past the stop, & on to the next thing. First big trip 10 years ago. Click. Life on KI. Click. Really for real looking at the real Himalaya with my own two eyes. Click. It's easy to forget that you're making progress the whole time, then there are these landmark moments that just seem to cement everything somehow. Little notches that help us keep track of our blessings.

 

After the flight I got a lift back into town. The main road was closed off for a festival, so I walked the remainder, stumbling upon the Garden of Dreams on my way. A pleasant little area with plants, reflecting pools and seating alcoves throughout. The sun was shining; I sat for a while & dozed in the warmth (tired from still being on Dublin time, finally fell asleep last night at about 3am and had to get up at 530). Little chimpmunks & birds flitted around, it was quiet and calm, a nice rest from the busy city just oustide and its constant sound of honking horns, the way traffic always sounds in a town like this. Beep beep, swerve, beep beep, swerve. It's amazing that it works since everyone's honking at the same time, but it does.

 

I wandered the streets for a while, stopping to watch a procession of drumming & singing move through the streets under a network of colorful prayer flags. Have been dealing with the now-familiar mixed feelings as I interact with people... Decidedly frustrated that I must look like a cartoon dollar-sign to anyone I walk past, like Tweety when Sylvester sees him as a steak, and starting to believe that all the friendliness is just a sales pitch. Indeed most of it is. "Namaste! [...why do I hear that in my head in a Mexican accent...] How are you? Where are you from? Oh! When did you arrive Nepal? How long will you stay?" Always the same questions in the same order. And then.... "You come look at my shop?" "You buy something?" Or more often, "You going trekking? I am a guide!" As my eyes scan the street and see all the people standing out in front of their shops or walking back and forth, stunningly handsome faces with warm smiles, I start to see them as nothing more than salespeople. Then I go into this little restaurant for some dal and Nepali tea, and the people in there, who have a guaranteed customer who probably looks so tired and hungry that it's obvious they don't need to work for a sale, are incredibly friendly - even after I order one of the cheapest meals on the menu. Lots of smiles, friendly conversation, warm thanks as I leave. Restoring my hope that maybe some of the smiles and hellos are genuine after all.

 

In the evening I returned to a candle-lit hotel. Not for ambience but because the power was out. It's a regular occurence here, sometimes a building, sometimes a whole block will just lose power for a while. I'm not sure if it's deliberately cut off or on some rotation, but it seems quite random. The other night I was eating dinner in this fluorescent-lit place, when the lights went off for about 20 seconds. Then on again for a minute or two, then off again for a minute. Then on for a while, then off for a few minutes. Lifting the spoon to your mouth, losing it mid-flight when the lights cut out. The best part was that the steady trickle of conversation around the room didn't so much as hiccup when the lights went out. Just business as usual, kind of fun to me.

 

I crashed early after finishing my current book, The Kite Runner (great read), and woke around midnight to what sounded like a gigantic cat purring a few blocks away. As I went close to the window I heard traces of a high-pitched melody. Drums. Must have been a continuation of the day's celebration. My curiosity wasn't quite enough to drag me out in the street to discover the source; when it gets late the number of civilians on the street diminishes, and in their place are camo-clad men sporting big guns and what I find more intimidating for some reason, big sticks like broom handles. They're probably there for safety but still it makes me a little uneasy, so I was quite content to be serenaded from the window in the extreme toasty comfort of my Feathered Friends sleeping bag. Another night in a little corner of a small world.

Make that the 15th....

Ok, in case you didn't see his comments on the last post, S says:

 

i decided to push the opening back just a few days... so Friday the 15th is going to be the actual day! I'm just waiting for merchandise to show up so the shop looks a little nicer!

...this is kind of our secret opening... not really promoting it other than by word o' mouth... in mid to late March we'll have a big grand opening thang that we'll promote the heck out of!

I'd love to see you on Friday though! (and i'm sure i'll be here on Monday too if you just can't wait!)...

By the way....

Since I can't be there to do it myself, I'm expecting all of you in the Seattle area to drop by on Feb 11th and give Scotty a big hug for me. The occasion? His shop grand opening!!! Where? At the T of Market & Central Ave in Kirland, behind the coyote on the cow.

 

Congratulations kiddo, I'm praying for you!!!!!!!

Dangit, why did I have to be a chick?!

Wait, I know the answer to that. If I was a guy I'd have to be gay. And then I'd get beat up all the time, cuz I'd only look at straight guys.

 

I have to remind  myself of these things sometimes, like when I'm  jealous of people who can stealthily pee standing up, or can go more places on their own without being culturally misunderstood or worse yet a target. It's a little frustrating for someone who's used to total independence, to have to consider something like a trekking partner before heading out into the great unknown. Normally when they say 'Don't go out alone', I give it a big Bah-humbug, because normally it's fine. But everything I've read here says 'Don't go alone, especially if you're a woman'. I found one rare site that actually encouraged people to trek on their own, but before I got too far down the page it said 'But if you're a woman don't go alone!' Dang!!! There's always the trekking guide option, but for one I don't really want to spend twice the price for the same trip, and even more than that I don't really want to go out by myself for a week or more with a local guy that I don't know. They seem nice enough & all, but maybe a little too nice, y'know?

 

So, I'm here in an internet place in the tourist area of Thamel, Kathmandu, searching every site I can for trekking-partners-wanted etc, but not getting very far. I think after this I'm going to plant myself in the most touristy cafe I can find in town and sip a tasty milk-tea while eyeing every traveller that comes in the door for prospective victims.

 

--------------------------------

 

Had a good last couple of days in Dublin, and realized as I said goodbye to my 2 favorite people there in the same day, and walked down the street back toward the hostel, that I was actually leaving the next morning and wouldn't be seeing them or the place for a long time.

 

The flights were great, & I think Qatar Airways is becoming one of my favorite airlines. The food is great, they have footrests (something that seems to have disappeared from many planes these days), and the interactive map even has a Mecca-pointer feature. Have you ever noticed that the napkins they give you on planes smell like pepper from being in those little packets?

 

One of my connections was in Doha (same as a few months ago). As we were just coming off of the Mediterranean over what I think was Lebanon or Syria, I looked out the window to find a sky full of movie-bright stars. They looked like LEDs set in a black-painted ceiling, so close and bright and totally unreal. The big dipper was framed in my window standing right up on its handle. I looked for a while at the city lights below before probably sinking into another snooze.

 

Good things I'm starting to remember about the Eastern world: Private rooms at even the most budget accommodations. Good healthy food, rice & veg to the heart's content. Gracious & friendly culture. That spray nozzle next to the toilet; toilet paper just isn't the same any more. I'm not a total convert though, I like the nozzle-paper combination the best, so you get super clean and don't have to drip-dry. I'm a little out of practice with the nozzle, ended up getting a bunch of water on the floor at the airport because the pressure was too high and I splashed everywhere. Oops!

 

First impressions of Kathmandu: A slight smoky smell, like a thousand tiny fires in the distance. Small brick airport with long lines at immigration, which seemed in part due to the fact that the people working the counter kept stopping to chat with each other. Better too friendly than the opposite though, I always get a little nervous going through immigration that somebody's going to turn me away just because they can. I checked into my $5/night private room in Thamel, and after a short visit to a travel company for some advice, retired early. Out the window were all the strange sounds you'd hope for in a strange town. Dogs barking, other things that could have been dogs or maybe not, birds skwaking and chirping, other things that could have been birds or maybe not, and maybe even a monkey or two but I'm not sure. Saw one on the way in from the airport but I don't know if there are many around here.

 

Have spent some time roaming and losing myself around Thamel, and in the few hours that I've actually been up & about (caught up on sleep from the long journey but I'm still on Dublin time) I've soaked in a lot of atmosphere and already met some interesting characters. Had tea with a would-be guide who said think-think-think-before-you-drink and then asked why I wasn't drinking, & later started reading me his whole journal of wise & interesting sayings from different religious folk or travellers. Later at dinner I was surrounded by a group of little Korean kids on a big trip & ended up sharing my table with their tour leader and a local guide they picked up who doubles as a student, musician and probably whatever else you would ask of him. Overall it's a great area; feels a bit like some of the SE Asian towns I was in a few months back, but way mellower (maybe partly due to being off-peak season). Sweet smells of incense coming out of lots of shops, music wafting down the street from other shops, so much stuff for sale that it's hard to keep your eyes open without risking sensory overload, but more interesting stuff than they're hawking in other places (in my opinion).

 

It's a bit colder than I'd expected, but for a few people in Dublin who said just before I left, 'Ooh, it's going to be cold!' My room is downright freezing, good thing I've got a toasty sleeping bag. The streets are chilly in the shade, but when the sun comes out it's almost warm, it that calm lower-latitude way that fills the air with some kind of comfort.

 

Anyway enough rambling for now. Thinking about lots of you for lots of reasons. Gotta go find a corner to set up my web & hopefully catch a trekking partner...

 

 

Where does an animal sleep when the ground is wet?...

(Cows in the ballroom, chickens in the farmer's corvette...)

 

Notes on a public life: How come just when I'm about to take my pants off, the tiny laundry room fills with people? How come the sensors for hand dryers in public bathrooms never line up with where you need to put your hands to actually get them dry? One of the places I've been staying has about 5 different brands of hand dryers throughout the building. The first one I noticed was called Eterna; I thought this was a little lofty for a hand-dryer company, what were they thinking? Then there was one called Junior; a little more realistic. Finally I found FastDry, which could use some more originality but at least it's somewhat truthful if not overly optimistic. Have you seen those blade dryer things? You stick your hands in a slot & the air comes out from both sides through really thin openings that increase the pressure. They say it's twice as fast as a normal dryer, but I think it's at least five times as fast. Using physics to make a product actually work, I like it.

 

Things are definitely looking up. Today the sun was shining, crisp and beautiful. I even saw a guy washing the sidewalk outside of his shop, a first since I've been here. You know when you get ready to leave a place gets instantly better. On Sunday I caught up with a few ladies at church & joined them for lunch, great company (& I'm under oath to mention them in my travel journal, hi E!). Yesterday I was in a frame shop, & the lady working was so incredibly nice, & when I was leaving she said, "Please come back again!" and I believed that she really meant it. She even asked me to watch the shop while she stepped out to the loo; that doesn't happen every day in a city. Then I was at the post office today, & the guy at the counter was so amazingly helpful. Not only did he save me about half of what it would have cost to send things the way I had them packed, but he helped me re-pack everything and even gave me his own envelope because the ones they sold weren't the right size. People have been smiling at me on the street today. I caught up with a friend for lunch and realized she already feels like a favorite old friend to me.

 

"Me jaunting car, me jaunting car, we're rolling along in me jaunting car..."

I took a few days out last week to head west, to the nice little town of Killarney, where there's a big lake in a national park and lots of open places to walk. The hostel I stayed at was probably not much different from any other, except that the Dutch kid behind the counter - a travelling spirit and I suspect a growing connoisseur of the really good things in life - was playing the best music in the lobby - nice & loud; you could hear traces of it from all around the building. It made the place feel like home instead of just another stop. The weather was not fantastic, so there weren't many people out... which was fantastic!! It kept changing from rain to snow to rain to partial sun to hail to rain to warm sun to freezing wind, which made for great scenery and some fun walks. I finally saw what I was hoping to see in Ireland: green like I don't think I've seen anywhere else, except maybe in the north of New Zealand but even there I think it's different. Rolling hills and farms everywhere, open space, really friendly people. I realized that the city has been seeping into my attitude; I've become that person who looks at the ground or stares at a fixed point in front of them instead of looking at people to say hi; I was talking to a girl in my room and didn't even take my eyes off of my book. I know it's a product of (hordes of strange)-people-overload, but I don't like being that way. It almost surprised me when people in town were friendly and said hi to me. A break did much good though. I realized as I was cutting across a green hillside & stepping lightly so as not to take too much muddy water into my runners, that I'd found what I wanted to see here, soggy green hills!

 

As much as I've been stressing out about too much city life and getting frustrated with things, I think time will work its magical disappearing act with all the bad vibes. This morning as I was walking across the Ha'Penny Bridge and looking down the river, I was thinking that this is a place I will come back to one day and the memories waiting for me will be all the good ones.

 

But as they say, the time has come to be gone. Tomorrow morning's an early start, for the journey to Kathmandu!!

 

It's time to ramble on.

DON'T USE TURBO TAX!

Thought I'd get a head start on things and file my taxes online. I logged into TurboTax, which I've used for the last 2 years I think. It gave an option to use my info from last year, so of course I selected Yes. At the very end of my tax return, when I was relieved to be done (especially with lots to do today & paying to use a kind of slow computer) it came up with a $19-something fee to file!! Apparently even though I signed in to the free version, when I opted to use last year's info it automatically 'upgraded' me (without any notice) to a pay version. According to their site you can upgrade online, but once it's done there's no way to downgrade, so you have to create a brand new profile. I sent them an email telling them that they suck, that whoever designed the program is a f'ing moron (a quote), and that I'm looking for another place to file.

I hate tax time with a passion. It's one thing for the government to unconstitutionally take my money and use it for their own gain and immoral agendas; it's another to make me do the paperwork! Why doesn't the IRS have their own free-file system anyway? Jackasses.

your time to change

So on a happier note, what have I been up to lately? As usually happens when you get ready to leave a place that you've spent any amount of time in, things get busy. You (and by 'you' I mean 'me') start to think of all the things you wanted to see and do, all the people that you want to spend time with, not to mention all the onward arrangements to be made. I've been spending a little more time on the town, catching up with friends that I know I'm going to miss, meeting a few new ones.... Went to a play and realized midway through that plays could be the oldest form of human entertainment -- classic no less, why don't I go more often? Visited a modern art museum which was not too impressive, spent a day at the coast near Dublin with a few people and we were treated to a tasty dinner afterward courtesy of my favourite Austrian vegan. Oh speaking of which, there's this film you've gotta see: 'We Feed the World'. A little doco on the food industry, pretty interesting; can't so much as breathe these days without screwing something up, but that's another lecture for another day. :-)  I did catch my first glimpse of Emerald-Isle emerald last weekend. Went to visit a friend of a friend who lives a couple of hours to the south. The train followed the coast most of the way, great views. Fun day too, maybe I should visit perfect strangers more often. Have spent a few evenings in pubs, something obligatory in these parts, trying to learn to taste the difference between good and bad Guiness, but that would take some practice I think.

 

I heard on the news recently that a 20-year old guy was arrested at the airport with EUR 24K (about $36,000) worth of cannabis. The drug-sniffing dog got him on his flight arrival from Amsterdam. I was trying to picture how much room that would take up in his bag - was it totally full of weed? Was he really so stupid to smuggle drugs on a flight from Amsterdam?!!!!! 'Naw, they won't suspect a thing. Durrr.'

 

Went to an office Christmas party last night. Better late than never. More Guiness, but to be honest I was hard-pressed to finish my 2nd pint. Maybe I had too many cheesy jalapeno things.

 

My flight arrangements are starting to come together for the next few months... just a rough outline, and I don't think I'll spill yet but to say that it's a travel agent's nightmare. I was looking at round-the-world tickets but it turned out cheaper to do one-ways the whole way.

 

What else... Oh, the big question! Ok I'm painfully aware that we have an election coming up this year. While I don't believe that the system actually works, since the people's votes don't seem to count in the big elections, and where they should at least count in local votes, those decisions are too regularly 'overturned' (really democratic)... and while part of me would like to see the whole bullying eyesore of a greed-ridden over-consuming country swallowed into the ocean without a trace... it wouldn't really be fair to the sea creatures. Anyway I can't totally give up on it because there are lots of people there that I care about. And somehow, even though it doesn't work, I still have this nagging feeling that if I don't at least participate in the voting system, I have no right to complain or expect anything different. Expect, ha, I should say wish for, expectation's too optimistic. I think the USA is on its way to becoming a 3rd-world country. No really, think about it. How much of our own stuff do we produce these days? Not much. How much basic stuff - even vegetables - do we get from overseas? How much power are we handing to places like 2-billion-people-strong China who basically have our national balls in a vice any time they decide to exercise their strength and squeeze? What happens then, can we actually fend for ourselves if we don't even have our own food supply? (This isn't post-film propaganda by the way, just stuff that's been bothering me for a really long time.) It's kind of like economic karma - if we insist on paying 3rd-world prices for everything, it seems a logical conclusion that we might end up living a 3rd-world life. Scary.

 

Ok that was a little tangential... my point being, who the heck am I supposed to vote for????!!!!!!!!!!! I've done almost no research as of yet & have a long way to go.... In the meantime what I would like from all of yas is some input!! Who do you like, who do you hate? Who's got at least a shred of decency or wisdom, who will be able to keep our collective head above water or who will sink us like one of those little cereal box toy submarines when it's filled with lead instead of bubbly baking soda? I want anyone & everyone's opinion... not that I'll necessarily agree with you (would be pretty unhealthy to agree with everyone) but I want to hear it anyway. Email me - there's a link on this page if you don't have the address handy. Be as opinionated, passionate, dispassionate, optimistic, pessimistic, open-minded or dogmatic as you want. I'm already convinced that Uncle Sam is a fascist, it can't get worse than that.  ;-)

every girl's a suspect

Needless to say, me in the middle of a city for months at a stretch isn't such a good idea. I could've told you that before, but then it was theory -- now it's science. Things might have been a little different if I hadn't parked myself in such a shit-hole. It's the cheapest hostel in town, for good reason; other places might be slightly better, but at nearly twice the price I really can't justify them, so here I am, pissed off and tired of it. I hate this place with a passion. It seemed okay at first, even better than the previous one (it's not hard to improve on a bedroom-sized common area that's filled to capacity when 10 people show up, or key cards that only give you 10 minutes to get to your room before they de-activate, never mind pit stops or stepping out for a minute once you're in). The facilities here are really okay when they're open, which doesn't necessarily coincide with when you'd actually want to use them. For instance, why does the basement close for cleaning during the last half-hour of breakfast, instantly eliminating half of the seating for the entire hostel? (It was even better when they were renovating the lobby and there was no seating at breakfast.) Why do the rooms close for 4 hours in the middle of every day, and the kitchen for 3 hours in the afternoon and again overnight, all in the name of 'cleaning'... yet nothing is ever actually clean? Or how about this: why is there no lost-and-found box at Reception? With dozens of people or more coming and going every day, do you mean to tell me that nobody accidentally leaves something behind that they're going to come back for? I've heard so many people complaining at the front desk about missing items, only to be met with a blank look and a shrug. 'It happens all the time, there's nothing we can do about it.' One guy I met had stashed his iPod in his pillowcase to take a shower, forgot to grab it when he checked out, instantly realized his mistake and went back to get it. The cleaners had already been, and supposedly didn't find anything. Apparently the person working told him that the cleaners never bring anything to them. Never, really? I overheard someone the other night complaining about a laptop that had disappeared from the common area, but the person wasn't allowed to view the security tape to see who might have taken it. Funny that there are enough cameras around the place for a prison, but no security. I wonder if found items are part of the hiring package. 'We won't pay you well or give you any benefits, but whatever you can get your hands on is yours to keep.'

 

I've been pretty good about keeping things under lock and key, only using the bedroom for sleep and storing everything in a locker. But I neglected one little thing -- my kick-ass BD Spot headlamp. I've been keeping it attached to my bunk so I can switch it on when I come into the dark room at night, or read before I go to sleep. I didn't think it was particularly susceptible, especially in an all-girls' room in a place where 99% of them wouldn't have a clue what to do with it. But last night when I came back from an evening out, my Spot was gone. I went from baffled to upset to absolutely livid in the space of about 2 minutes. I subjected myself to the anticipated empty-stare-and-shrug treatment at Reception, on the small chance that there could be someone working who was able to exceed my extremely low expectation, but no such luck of course. Stumbling tired and seething angry aren't the best combination. Half an hour earlier I was ready to fall straight into bed, now I was too worked up to sleep. The lobby area was closed for the night (I learned by watching a poor girl with her dinner get kicked out; nothing but tables and benches here, and within plain view of the 24-hour front desk, why they need to close it I can't begin to guess) leaving just the dungeon of a basement for a place to sit. Seeing as I was in a mood to beat someone's head in, I opted for the less-crowded confines of my room. After racking my brain for any possible way to recover my property and coming up with nothing, fully aware that any girl who walked into the room could potentially be the culprit -- it's not even the thing; though I use it every day and can't really spare the cost of replacement, it's the principle that gets me -- I finally coerced myself into lying down.

 

This morning I awoke feeling calm and fine, till the memory of the night's dreams faded and I remembered my frustration. It's easy to wake up in a bad mood in this dump, but today was worse. I must be wearing the most horrible expression, judging by the ache of tension that's cutting a line in my forehead. Tomorrow I'll move back to the other cheapest-place-in-town, where I would have stayed in the first place if they had room last week. Same owner and just a block away, but slightly better facilities and somehow less theft-prone. A morning in that place reminds me of the opening to Get Smart: there are doors and doors-within-doors, half of them requiring key-card access. If the other place is a prison, perhaps this one is a mental institution. The kitchen closes for 'cleaning' (again used loosely) at 1:30pm, which some people might consider to be lunchtime, but no matter. It's only a few more nights, and I hate it a little less than the Prison.

 

Indeed this city is wearing on me. A wise woman once said, 'We may be poor, but I refuse to live like it.' Dublin seems to be the opposite. For the key city in a country that's sitting pretty near the top of the global economic heap, it has some strangely impoverished tendencies. Kind of like a person with a full bank account who can't change his own smelly, torn t-shirt. In retrospect maybe I should have seen some of Ireland before I stopped here. It's an area I've wanted to visit for my whole life, yet at the moment the magic is gone; I just want to get out. I do have plans to see some of the country before leaving: my eye's on a spot with open space and lakes. Good medicine I hope, but that's a few days away and today needs its own tonic. Too restless and frustrated to read, I opt for something auditory. As I push the Play button, the sound of DeVotchKa eases into my brain and everything else recedes into the wings. Good medicine indeed.

I stand corrected!!

A reliable source tells me:

 

 "BTW, the Zeppelin concert in December had all 3 of the surviving band members playing and John Bonham's son on drums.  Universally loved by critics.  They said that they were just slightly slow on the fastest songs, brilliant on the slow ones, and got better as the show went on."

 

That's great news!! (Sometimes it's good to be wrong.)

 

Thanks SG for the info, congrats on taking the city and good luck with the dotted line!

Viking is the new Pirate!!

Thought this might be an opportune time to revive my old agenda. They keep bringing pirates back around (which are awesome, don't get me wrong) but they're sadly overlooking the glamour of Vikings. Spread the word, Viking is the new Pirate!

Well now I'm going to attempt to fit 2 amazing weeks in Norway into a single entry. Get yourself a cup of coffee, and expect a potty break before you finish reading. Or have someone else read it to you, things are more enjoyable that way.

It seemed silly in instantaneous retrospect, but being used to a relatively quiet Dublin airport I was actually surprised at first to see hordes of travellers in what should have been a few orderly queues but was more like a heap of unravelled yarn in the grips of a fiesty cat. Of course, it was 2 days before Christmas! Still toting birthday cold, I stood in line with my pack for what felt like hours, but soon forgot all about it once I was whizzing through security on my way to the gate. Uneventful flight... touchdown Oslo. Nighttime, the slightest coating of white over everything, a little more than frost but not deep, from the tarmack to the branches and needles of every tree on the way into town. I was booked into a hostel which I will mention by name, that name being Sentrum Pensjonat, because even though the rooms are shared the beds are single not bunks (which is like a million dollars to me at this point) and somehow the most comfortable little beds on the planet. I felt like I was a kid again in my grandma's guestroom, tucked in all snug on a cold night. I wished I was staying there 2 weeks not just 2 nights.

My first day in Oslo was a quiet, grey Christmas Eve. Took a walk around town looking in windows and seeing where everything was. Uncharacteristic of the rest of town, I wandered down one street with wares on the sidewalk & spilling out of storefronts that reminded me of one of the wider streets in Tijuana. Finding my way to the main road I was stopped in my tracks by silvery sound of someone playing a dulcimer of sorts. Not just any someone, a guy in a curly white wig (special Christmas get-up I suspect) seated at this upright instrument playing with the speed and energy of a crack fiend. If Greensleeves were a scribble on a bar napkin, his version was the illuminated manuscript.I followed the main road past a little ice skating rink where families and kids were having some winter fun, then wound around down to the waterfront. Everything grey & icy, but Norwegians seem to be avid gravel scatterers which takes the slip away. So far I'm thinking this town has a lot going for it. And by a lot I mean a waterfront. What else does a town need, really? On a scale of 1-10, a good waterfront gives an easy 8 to an otherwise pointless place. Especially a good waterfront with lots of boats to look at! Dark was setting in early in the afternoon, & after a few hours' wandering I started back for the hostel. There was a lone guy standing at the end of the harbour singing opera tunes; one sounded familiar and I thought, what's that song? Naw, couldn't be. Then the words started coming through the air, in all their operatic style, "they go running for the shelll-terrr of their mother's little helll-perrr" - Stones never sounded quite like this. I suppose Christmas Eve brings a quiet over any town as the day grows late and people go to their houses. The streets were mostly empty, almost silent. Then from down a lane I heard Christmas music trickling along from the ice skating rink. When I got to the main road I could see the lights of the square in the trees & around the rink, people whirling & gliding, warm and happy Bing-style Christmas songs moving them along and moving me along too. Back to the hostel and the world's most comfortable dorm for an early evening, a good book, a little warmth of my own.

I was a little nervous about missing the train from Oslo to Bergen or getting somehow delayed, since I was connecting the same night with the boat which I was going to be on for the next 4 days. A Christmas morning like no other, I woke to a quiet dark room and packed my bag as quietly as possible so as not to wake up the person next to me, then left for the station. I was pretty much on time (getting better & better at this) for the 3 or 4-minute walk to the station. Apparently I started feeling a little too familiar with the town a little too soon, and didn't stop outside the door to check my bearings. Perhaps I was subconsciously following that way-too-young German guy with the beeeautiful long hair; I honestly thought we were going the same way, & after walking along chatting for a few blocks I started to get the feeling that this was a few blocks too many. Starting to get anxious, checking the watch, looking around for the station which should have been visible... time getting short... have to turn right here, say goodbye, start jogging a little... onto the main street, 8 minutes till the train leaves, 4 blocks to the station!... running with pack on... tired sick body.... must keep running!.... 4 minutes to go... 3 minutes.... into the station.... 2 minutes.... pick up ticket at machine..... 1 minute.... down to the platform.... 0 minutes, train still there.... find a car & get on.... doors close, train begins to move.... find my car, find my seat, drop my pack, sigh relief. Ahhhh, I made it!!

Soon I was whisked away to a wintery wonderland, into the snowy mountains, through forests and icy tunnels, past ski areas and little villages. You could see lights and decorations in the windows of the houses, many of the windows with lighted candlestands that look like menorahs. (I was perplexed by this for a while till I was close enough to count 7 candles - didn't think there were that many Jewish people in these parts.) People were skiing right by the tracks and waving at the train. Snowflakes were falling and even better was the snow-dust coming up from the wheels & draft of the train like an epic winter journey. There was some little light like an LED several cars ahead at the top of the engine, flickering blue-white; it wasn't till another train passed that I saw it was actually a flame where the engine's contact met the cable above. With the quality of the light and the dusty snow and the white scenery around, it was pure magic. I put in the earphones, put on some Christmas music and soaked in some first-class white-Christmas mood!!

Not only did we arrive in Bergen right on time, but on the platform was a man holding a sign for transfers to Hurtigruten. I was tempted to make my own way to the terminal instead of paying for this kind of luxury, but had made it so far & didn't want to blow it! In no time I found myself checking in and walking down a carpeted hallway to my cabin for the next 4 nights. It was like a hotel - waaaay nicer than I'd expected (good thing I didn't know or I might not have booked it) - the cabin was more like a little hotel room, with bed & couch, chair & table area, tv, bathroom with heated floor, the works. What the heck, I could get used to this! After a little exploration of the ship I went into my cabin and put up a few little Christmas decorations, holiday music playing, and suddenly it really felt like Christmas. I don't know what it is about decorating and seasonal music. Last year it didn't feel like Christmas and I didn't decorate my apartment, & the holidays just came and went like nothing; maybe now I know what was missing.

On with the voyage (we've still got a long way to go!!). Dark nights transitioned into cloudy days. The bits of scenery I could get were absolutely amazing. Tiny islands everywhere, mountains, villages. I found a dream village about an hour past Trondheim, still green, with little red farmhouses and big open fields, a tiny harbour at one end, it was perfect. I later found out that the lack of snow up the coast was highly unusual, perhaps the least snow at this time in about 30 years. Things were smooth sailing except for one night, maybe the 3rd, when we had to skip a few ports due to stormy weather and waves up to 8 metres (yeah, like 24 feet!). The ship was rolling along and I was sitting by the window kind of peering out into the dark; you couldn't see much, but once in a while some lights would go by, and on this night something looking like a fairy dancing from the top of the window to the bottom, from side to side & in big circles, would turn out to be a lighthouse as seen from the tossing ship. I must have been at least half asleep, next thing I knew some glasses & plates people had left on a table were sliding off and I think I was reaching down to get them, then was on the floor with my chair and another one on top of me. I managed to pick up the chairs, get the dishes to a sink behind the bar, and myself back to a seat, and then started wondering what on earth had just happened?! I don't know what's the stronger sedative, sleep itself or the hypnotic motion of the sea.

Smooth going was soon to return though, and eventually it was time to disembark at Tromso. (There's a slash through the last 'o' but I don't know how to type it.) Tromso is referred to as the Paris of the North, but I was happy to see it was still small enough to be really nice. The main part is located on a small island with bridges going to the land on either side (they must have some expert bridge builders in this country with all the islands attached by huge sweeping bridges, almost works of art in themselves). We pulled into Tromso around 230pm and it was already dark as the middle of night when I stepped off the ship. Located just below 70 degrees N, this was my 2nd time above the Arctic Circle and the far point of my trip. The streets were spanned with huge garlands hanging between light posts, covered in little lights and with bright red hearts in the middle. The next day there was light in the sky when I got up, though it would be a few days before I actually saw the sun again. I had a few dusky hours wandering around town, across the bridge to see the almost iceberg-ish Arctic Cathedral, then back across to Polaria, a centre with displays about Arctic environments, aquariums and some resident bearded seals. It was all to easy to spend hours there. After the centre closed there were a few hours to spare before getting back on the ship. I took a walk as the evening got late in hopes of catching a glimpse of those elusive northern lights. It had been cloudy for most of the journey, and this was one of the first clear nights. Down to the waterfront (where else do you go on random walks) & staring up at the sky. I didn't see the lights, but what I did find was my old travelling companion Orion, which I've been missing for a few months, stretched right out in front of me and sparkling. Later as I donned my pack and headed back down to the dock, there were a few sparse but fat snowflakes drifting down around me, slowly and silently in the light of the garlands. This was no ordinary snow, this was Christmas magic snow.

I had never spent so much time on the sea at a stretch, and was wondering how it would go. (Having aspirations of living on a boat one day, this was kind of an important discovery.) My only regret with this part of the journey was that it would only be 3 nights down, shorter than on the way up; I couldn't wait to get back on board. This ship turned out to be a lot more like what I was expecting the first time - a glorified ferry of sorts, smaller & with less frills, a tiny cold cabin, non-slip floors & stairs instead of fancy carpeting, much more my style. One thing this cabin had that the other didn't, however, was the all-important porthole for bedside gazing out to sea.

What comes after Christmas? New Year, of course! And soon it was New Year's Eve. I was really hoping to find some glogg in Norway - that warm spiced wine I discovered a few years back at Nordic Yulefest in Seattle; so far there had been none to be found anywhere, but tonight my luck changed and they served it on board. It was soooo good, and I have to say that recipe I found must be pretty authentic much to my delight (I'm not ashamed to say I love my glogg, since it's someone else's recipe and really easy to make, I really can't take credit for it). Well I think it's fair to say that I didn't put myself on a boat in the Arctic in the middle of winter for social opportunities, but somehow I still ended up feeling like a wallflower at a junior high dance when it was brought to my attention that I was sitting all alone on the observation deck. I had decided that this was the night to splurge and buy myself a decent dinner (instead of the usual peanuts and little cafe sandwiches), so I ate and was full and grabbed a book and some other things to keep busy and headed upstairs to enjoy the occasional view. I had some good 90's music on, & hardly noticed when the room cleared out except to breathe a sigh of relief that I had a nice place to sit with a little solitude. I wasn't just ok with it, I was thrilled. But apparently the New Year's Eve buffet dinner downstairs was for everyone, not just people who paid for the meal plan, and when a member of the crew who I'd been talking to earlier came up to invite me to join in, I suddenly felt bad for being anti-social. Not that there was anyone I particularly wanted to or should have socialized with, or that anyone would care, but in my offering reassurance that I was quite happy where I was, I started having to fend off guilty feelings for being that girl in the corner. Suddenly it was myself I was having to reassure. Dang people, you finally get a little solitude and they ruin it by trying to be nice! Anyway if I hadn't had the place to myself, I wouldn't have later been entertained by two drunken Norwegians who apparently went out to buy beer and ended up getting on the ship because they knew the bar would be open, only to get off in a few stops and catch the next one going back. But enough about people. We were stopped at a place which according to the schedule we should have been leaving and I was a little irritated wondering why (motion is somewhat addictive, & when you're expecting it and it doesn't happen it can be a little frustrating; like when you're in the passenger seat and you think the driver has stepped on the gas and your head goes forward but then just hangs there because they didn't step on it after all... times about 100). But as it turned out, we were in the best place for the festivities. A few bangs and pops and whistles turned into a full-blown firework extravaganza from every side of the ship; there was a different show from every little town around the port and the sky was lit up with all kinds of colors & flashes for a good couple of hours. They handed out champagne and we toasted the New Year, and indeed it was a great way to start 2008.

I thought it would be kind of dismal, having so little sunlight for so long. And granted I only had a few real days of it so I can't say what a whole season would be like. But these northern days are absolutely spectacular. Morning and evening have to be the two best times of day - sunrise and sunset and the moments as the colours change and fade and melt from one light into another. Well here the sunrise and sunset are super-long, and there's none of that stale afternoon time between. Just hours and hours of change and beauty. The two best parts of the day back to back.

Alas it was time to rejoin the land for good, this time in the town of Trondheim. We pulled in around 730am and I found my way out of the somewhat convoluted dock area to a path into the centre of town. I love seeing a place early in the morning before the sun comes up. There were a few people walking and cycling to work, but it was fairly quiet. I found my way up the hill into the neighborhood where this hostel was located. The sign said they opened at 8am but everything was dark (this was about 815 I think). Being the day after New Year I waited around for a while in case they were on Sunday schedule or something. After 30 or 40 minutes a girl came out & told me that they weren't opening till noon as they were just returning from the holidays. Not making any fuss over the fact that they'd had my booking with arrival time for weeks and hadn't bothered to put a note anywhere or email me, I simply asked if there was a place I could leave my pack till noon. She said no, because she was leaving and nobody else was there; this while holding open a locking door which could have easily protected my pack for a few hours. Frustrated and tired from an early morning I headed back down the hill grumbling in my mind that I'd have to walk around in the dark & cold for hours with my pack on till the hostel opened. I started strolling down random streets to see what I could see, and eventually found a nicely lit cafe with people inside (a good indication that things are open!) and went in for a bite to eat and a warm drink. They had some good music playing, the food was good and the chai latte hand-made from a good half-dozen little containers, diffusers, stirrers... the morning grew light and the hours melted away like snowflakes. I walked back out into the morning and the cold hit my nose with that feeling like a backwards sneeze.

There's some kind of charm to Trondheim and I'm not sure what it is. From the minute I set foot in town it struck me as a very liveable place. It's not particularly photogenic (parts of it are, but certainly not all). Most of the buildings around the water and up into the neighborhood are very utilitarian with flat fronts that look like Colourbond (on closer inspection they're all wood panels); colourful but not exciting design-wise. The harbour areas cut deep into the town, but there are so many more powerboats than sailboats which in my opinion takes some of the charm away. Perhaps there's something about it that reminds me of Seattle. Except with only 40,000 people. The neighborhood where I was staying did have kind of a Phinney or Greenwood feel to it, and the semi-industrial view from the hillside out to the inlet might have added to it. Don't know, I just liked it. It felt good.

I had a couple of days to explore. On day 2 following a whim from a quick glance at the map, and then some pointed roofs on the skyline, I found what could be the most amazing cathedral ever. The realist would admit that not being surrounded by a city like Rome could have an reverse numbing effect and it could stand out by sheer contrast. But the stonework was absolutely incredible, with beautiful design and elaborate chandeliers on the inside, and hundreds of carved figures on the outside. Some of them were kind of morbid, people holding their own heads, or corners shaped like monsters with people trying to crawl out of their mouths while presumably getting eaten. I guess this is what happens when Vikings get converted. There was also a great music shop; I went in to look for some Norwegian drumsticks for my dad (apparently these don't exist, the Yanks do too good of a job) & ended up drooling over all the equipment. More hearts hanging in town, I'm not sure if this is a traditional decoration or if it's just a thing for this year. The ravens in this part of the world have funny accents, kind of chattery like the flying foxes in eastern Australia.

I wasn't super excited to spend a few last days in Oslo since I had already seen it, but from the minute I stepped off the train I was happy to be back. There was a ton of snow falling, the first real snow I'd seen yet. The hostel I stayed at this time (the first one was booked up) had some attraction for wacky people apparently, including a bunch of 60-70-something men who could sometimes get along and sometimes were on the verge of argument. One Egyptian-Norwegian, friendly to the point of starting conversations at 7am and quite eccentric. One Austrian who was obsessed with the door being locked at all times. One from somewhere in Africa who got really upset when the other asked him questions like, 'Where are you from?' I didn't know entertainment was included in the price. Fortunately among the crazies was one sane person, a young Australian who became my company for the next couple of days. One of those people with many facets, all of them sparkling, and a heck of a lot of fun to boot. Oslo covered in white snowy wonderland was like Christmas magic all over again. There were little kids on skis and being pulled by their parents on sleds (cool ones with seats like Christmas tree ornaments). No visit to Norway would be complete without going to the Viking Ship Museum. After all, vikings are a big part of the draw for at least this traveller. I didn't realize their history was so short; they sure made an impact. Later it was off to the sculpture park. A girl I had met on the first visit to Oslo said that she didn't even like art, and she thought it was great. Sounds like a ringing endorsement but now I realize you should not take art advice from someone who admits to not liking it. Let's just say it was very fleshy. Lots of naked people statues, all grouped together and not exactly touching each other in an indecent way but you'd certainly wonder about their intentions, at least for some of them. I love statues, and I really like seeing the way people create different physiques, but these figures weren't even interesting. The peak is the one at the top of the hill - a giant obelisk shape made of bodies stacked and twisted together. Quite a feat of manufacture I have to admit, but a big long flesh object standing in the midst of all these bodies... well, you get the idea. Really I have no objection to naked people in art. That is, in art. The views of town from up there were beautiful though. After slopping through the snow and slush for a while longer, it was time for a bite to eat. We opted for Subway because it was easy and filling. It's best not to think about exchange rates sometimes; when we worked it out our two foot-longs came to a total price of about $32. The price of travelling in Norway.

Last day in Norway, the snow turned to slush and mixed with the crud of the street till it resembled gingerbread with a coating of powdered sugar as new snow fell onto it. A little more time for strolling in the snow and taking a few more photos. What could be more beautiful than a harbour full of boats, all covered in snow! In the hostel lobby I stopped for a bit and heard Virgin Radio piping out overhead. There was a new song from the Eagles, and I was shocked that it really sounded like the Eagles. Not a comeback band, not a bunch of old guys trying to recapture their former glory, it really sounded like 'em. Have you noticed how many old bands are coming back right now - the Eagles, the Police, English Beat, Smashing Pumpkins, 'Led Zeppelin' (actually Page & Plant with company; I suspect they're using their old name because the last effort didn't go quite so well; they may be amazing and talented, but you can't say 2 out of 4 is the real thing)... and so many more. All really different but with this in common - they were big a long time ago, they were great, and now they're back. Why? Simple. Nobody is stepping up to the plate. The world is starving for good music, and nobody knows how to do it anymore. Maybe it's not anyone's fault; society changes, people change, the world changes, and with it all, expression often changes to match. But all these old guys are coming back because we need them; we need that great music again.

Anyway, at the end of 2 great weeks it was time to get back on the airport shuttle. The shuttle that takes as long to get from town to the airport as the flight takes from Oslo to Dublin. The shuttle with ads on seatbacks for flights to Poland that are the same price as this airport shuttle, and other ads for buses which go all around the country for 1/3 the price of this airport shuttle. Once again, it's good not to think about the price, just the memories.

It was on my trip to Iceland a few years back that I became really interested in Norway. And now after seeing Norway, I'm really set on seeing Alaska. It's been high on the list for a long time but now I can almost taste it. I was really hoping to see some northern lights on this trip but it was not my luck. However I'm convinced that this isn't bad luck, it's good luck: it means I've got another northern winter ahead! I heard the other day that Denali could be the best place to view the aurora...

Back to Dublin. I suppose the charm has changed to familiarity, and in light of a different place I'm seeing Dublin for all its warts. Every business I come across seems to be poorly, even pathetically run, and nobody seems to know what they're doing (don't try asking a question at a shop); it's probably because most people are newcomers and foreigners like me. Part of the problem, not part of the solution, I know. Toilets don't work, places with full-time cleaning staff are still chronically filthy. And of course I am living in hostels, which is about the worst representation you can get of a place. The crowds downtown did not diffuse after Christmas as I was hoping beyond hope that they might, and with the rain means people are lethally ploughing the sidewalk crowds beneath hundreds of dang umbrellas. On the bright side, there are a few familiar and welcome faces to come back to, and more to discover here.

I've got about 3 weeks left in Ireland, then it's time for the next adventure. No tickets booked yet, but my all my energy is focused on getting to that dreamed of land, the place the itchy feet have been itching for for years....... Nepal!!

There are no reins on the chariot of life.

(Seriously, I've seen it. I can show you a picture.)

 

Well it is the time of year when even Coca Cola ads seem a little more special. A time that reminds me of how grateful I am for the people I've got. Like my parents. There are so many holiday movies about little kids waiting up for Santa, and stories of how they first hear that grown-ups don't really believe in him. There are enough rude awakenings to the realities of life without finding out that the people you rely on completely and trust the most have been lying to you at the most special time of year. But when we asked about Santa, I remember my mom saying, "Whenever you give someone a gift, you're being Santa." Simple and beautiful. There is a Santa, and it's all of us. So when we left out milk and cookies, or Santa left us notes in our stockings, it wasn't shocking that his writing looked suspiciously like Mom's writing. So did the Easter Bunny's, and the Tooth Cat's (Tooth Fairy's competitor). It's a good reminder that the spirit of the season is best lived by doing nice things, instead of sitting back and waiting for a fat guy in a red suit to fulfill your wishes.

 

Last Saturday could have very well been a perfect Saturday. I started out with a general intent of finding the big park in town, but got to wander around in no particular hurry, accidentally finding what could be my favorite bookstore ever, and a great little coffee shop. The park turned out to be as huge as everyone said it was, and I walked down the middle & back for a couple of hours. I thought it was really appropriate to name a city park Phoenix Park. After too much time in a city I start to feel like a lifeless pile of ashes, but one walk in the park puts purpose in my breath and a spring back in my step like a phoenix coming back to life.

 

It was dark by the time I turned around to come back into the city (winter days have a way of sneaking off when you're not looking). There were cranes around with Christmas lights on them - whoever decided to decorate such a utilitarian thing is brilliant in my opinion - and one of them even had a lit-up figure with a hard hat with 2-step animation of hammering something. Really festive, I dug it. Thanks to my wonderful brother I've been gulping down spoonfuls of new music over the last week; this walk was enriched by the amazing sounds of Calexico.

 

Back at the hostel one night I met a Lithuanian rapper, who tried to impress me by pulling a little box out of his pocket and showing me its contents. "What's that?" I asked. "My grill," he replied, showing me how the feaux-jewels fit onto his teeth like a blingy retainer. "Is that cool?" I asked. His reply, "Yeah."

 

Aside from new music I've been listening to some oldies-but-goodies, which have made me realize that a big part of me is still stuck in the 90s. It's like a person inside that wakes up when I hear certain things, some hidden energy, a little anxt and passion for life and the day at hand. Maybe it's that part that gets forgotten when we start to 'grow up'. The part we desperately need to hang onto.

 

Speaking of getting older and colder, my yearly involuntary tradition of getting a birthday cold snuk up on me again this year, at the very last minute!! Tomorrow I fly to Norway, hoping that somehow between tonight's sleep and the plane ride I'll be up & ready to face the northern cold!

 

Just got my 5-minute warning, the i-net place is closing down. Happy Christmas & a beautiful New Year to everyone!!!

Welcome Home Happy Christmas

The weekend before last I went to London for my Croatian language school's annual dinner (first one I've been to). It was nice to catch up with a few familiar faces, and to see a ton of new ones. It would have been silly to go to London just for dinner (even if I did get a 1-cent-each-way ticket; Ryanair is my new friend - with air taxes, you end up paying what you would have paid in the old days for ticket and tax, the days before airlines started tacking on profits and calling them 'taxes'). I spent the weekend with friends in Richmond, a really nice neighborhood with a totally different feel than I'd gotten in London proper before. ['Proper' as in downtown, gotta get the accent going.] It was almost like heaven getting out of the city for a while, staying in a quiet neighborhood, in a clean and quiet home, with a couple of good friends, away from the whole scuzzy city backpacker scene which I've probably been getting sick of for the last 10 years but have had a concentrated dose of lately.

I guess every place has its price though, and in this part of the world it comes in multiple digits of pounds sterling. I decided to just enjoy the weekend and have fun with people instead of paying attention to the bank balance, and good thing. Just to get a train from the airport into town was more than £9 each way (about $18) for the cheap fare. On an incredibly beautiful end-of-autumn English afternoon, I was walking around town & saw a sign for Kew Gardens. Decided to walk up that way and see what it was, since the name was familiar, figuring it was like a  normal city botanic garden. Except when I reached the gate I saw that there was a £12 entrance fee - that is, about $25. Clearly out of the question (if it was something I'd always wanted to see I would have considered it, but not for a whim) I thought I'd at least walk around the edge & see inside. But off of the entrance rose a giant brick wall, complete with metal stuff on top making a barbed-wire effect. Not even glance allowed here! Perhaps it's how they keep the roughians out, folks who just want a free weekend wandering around the city. The day was nice nonetheless, a beautiful town to enjoy, a pleasant walk along the River Thames to get back to the house in the evening, and perhaps the best part - after getting nice and chilly-tired - an evening nap while the girls were at work. It was so quiet, all I could hear was occasional raindrops being blown against the window. Haven't slept like that in months!

On the way back to the airport I was at a station waiting for my next train when I saw across the tracks a sign on a little kiosk which read, 'Ethically Sourced Organic Coffee'. My first reaction was, how cool that people are becoming more aware and you can even find something like that in a train station. My second reaction was, wait a minute! How sad that this is the exception rather than the rule. Honestly, should it be a big advertising point that people didn't abuse or take advantage of other people or do something harmful or destructive to provide people with warm drinks? Have we really come so far as a race that we get a pat on the back when we actually do something right for a change?

Ok I know I've got a drastically melancholy disposition, but could it be that circumstance actually has as much of a say in that as inherent nature? I mean, ignorance is bliss, so if you think, you're bound to be unblissful sometimes, right?

The flight was good though. I've learned that even though they tell you to turn off all your electronic devices for takeoff and landing, things like music don't really matter, and they don't look too closely, and that 20-minute landing is way more pleasant when you have some tunes going instead of just sitting there twiddling your thumbs thinking, 'almost there.... almost there.... almost there.... almost there....' Plus you don't have to hear that blaring announcement Ryanair plays on the overhead speaker every time they land on time. 'That's right folks, we've landed on time again!!' More pats on the back for doing what you're supposed to.

I was a little nervous about going through customs, or rather about what the outcome would be. Normally I should have been allowed a 90-day visit in Ireland, but the first time I came over the guy asked me a bunch of questions and then wrote '30 days' in my passport. Dang. So I asked nicely (and of course was praying in line the whole time) and the guy extended my visa to the full 90 days... Which means I can hang tight a little longer, and my Dublin/Oslo tickets are still valid, and everything is just going along peachy for the moment!

Leaving the airport on the bus, I saw out the window huge letters at the exit with lights strung all over them for the evening, that said, 'Welcome Home Happy Christmas'. Indeed!

Back to Dublin where life is like a shopping mall, people on the streets everywhere, Christmas rush and just general city busy-ness. I don't know that there's a such thing here as just taking a nice walk. It's pressing the flesh, zooming in & out, zipping back & forth, racing everyone or else getting stuck behind really slow people, and then getting run into just as much. Even if you are standing at a corner with no one around you, it is inevitable that someone will come up and try to stand exactly where you are standing. One person said to me that running in a busy city was more like playing a video game than actually running. Exactly. Finally dragged myself out the other day, to the remotest corner I could reach in 5 minutes. It was drizzly and wet and grey and cold outside, and as soon as I started out the drizzle turned to rain, but I ran away-away from the busy city centre, and back into it again, and it was short and cold and wet and it's been so long that I'm still a little sore, but dang if it didn't feel great. There's supposed to be a big park out here somewhere, but I haven't investigated it yet. One of these days!

Speaking of rushing - ok you're going to think I'm totally obsessed with jaywalking now - but it just makes me laugh... I was surprised at first to notice that among the cities frantic jaywalkers were old ladies and men, people who look like they can just barely walk, and wouldn't break a rule to save their lives. Then people pushing babies in strollers (this one gets me kind of mad, they push the stroller out in the street in front of cars & then have to back up really quick-like... as if the kids are saying, 'Sure mum, I don't need to see my 2nd birthday, just get us there!'). So then the other day I saw a priest jaywalking. I'm starting to think it's really not against the rules here. I mean a priest? And last but not least, 2 cops. Right through a red light. I don't see how this jaywalking story can get any more interesting or surprising, so I should probably leave it here.

Speaking of the law, is it time for the News installment? First of all I have to say big THANKS to Eric, who really overdid himself this time. Eric has been my most responsive reader, and the most entertaining, sending bits of information about all my random questions, and some that I didn't ask about, and geeky stuff about word origins & stuff that I totally love reading... Well this time in honor of the town of Limerick [where, by the way, a woman was found face-down in a bathtub this week, investigation pending] the almost-legal-father-in-law-of-my-parents'-son - or let's just say the all-around-great-guy-and-cornucopia-of-knowledge-and-beloved-essential-part-of-the-family - wrote a limerick, which he has given me permission to reproduce here! He did warn me that something might be wrong with my head for wanting to share the Limerick limerick (exact words were, ' Post it if you like, but don't forget to duck!') but honestly, anyone who spends their time reading what I have to write can't be that much saner than me, huh?

So without further ado...

There once was a looting in Limerick,
in a grocery with nice beer and spices to nick.
When the law laid them low,
"why?" the judge wanted to know.
The thieves claimed their curry lacked tumeric.

How many people do you know who have written a-one of them babies?? Thanks a million, EQ!!

Now it doesn't seem to me that the rest of the country is much better off than old Lim-town there. I've heard on the radio of at least 5 cocaine overdoses in the last week or two. I don't know if that's really sad - I mean it is really sad, but... - maybe it's a good thing that things of that nature are still on the news here. I mean it's better than mass murders at shopping malls, right? Which, by the way, seems to me to be domestic terrorism, no? Shouldn't the government be shutting down shopping malls to avert continuted terror attacks on mall-goers? And how about all these school shootings? Shouldn't they be deporting students to isolated interrogation camps? And shutting down schools? Shouldn't we make bumper stickers for our cars that say 'God bless America - down with schools and shopping malls'? They're terrorist hotbeds I tell ya. But seriously, isn't that kind of thing getting a little too normal in 'that' part o' the world (the starry-n-stripey one) and doesn't it seem like these things are just passing by as isolated incidents?

Finally in the news, I heard on the radio last night that there are searches on in two different towns for men that fell into rivers. The person who read one story right after the other didn't seem to notice that there were two of them in a row. I haven't been here that long, maybe it's a common occurrance on the Emerald Isle?

Well the other day was a day for good news - a nice change. S is dangerously close to realizing his big dream. I won't say any more now, except that dreams are good no matter what anyone says (even S himself!) and that they don't have to be things in the sky that people don't attain. I think dreams are truly the birthplace of goals. A man's heart plans his way, but the Lord directs his steps. That is to say, we get to do the Dreaming, and then by the grace of God one day we can get there! And secondly, congratulations to T for finding two, count 'em two brand new heartbeats in the workings!! T and S and all the rest, I am praying for you!!

Well autumn has officially turned to winter. I love autumn. When it comes I usually think it's my favorite season, even though summer is always too short. But winter is good too, especially when it brings holidays! The light has been absolutely beautiful here on days when the sun comes out. Have been taking photos of doorways and shop fronts and statues. This time of year I find myself wanting to take photos of the season, not the place. I mean they are of the place, but it's really the season that makes it perfect.

I don't know if I ever mentioned how surprised I was that the Gaelic language is still alive and well here - there are signs in English and Gaelic in the airport, at bus stops & on all the public transportation, on the street, everywhere - it's pretty amazing. Though there are probably more people on the street speaking Polish than anything else, it's fun to catch some TV shows or radio in the native language. Like the movie Polar Express the other day. It was actually better than the English version, the voice-overs didn't yell quite as much as Tom Hanks & co. I still don't understand why the train conductor had to be mean to be nice. And whoever did the soundtrack should have been fired; talk about a faded photocopy of every other movie theme. It was nice to see a Christmas movie though. Even after years in retail (granted with some space in between) I still love Christmas music and movies! Last night on the radio I heard a Gaelic version of 'Somewhere Over the Rainbow'. They seem to play this more at Christmas time too, maybe because it is the season of dreaming. It occurred to me that I've never really liked that song. I think it's one of those that you're really supposed to like - everyone is supposed to like it. The concept is ok, but the melody is really pretty annoying, and the words are so-so. It's a little better when Judy Garland sings it, but that usually means watching the movie. Which is ok but I don't know if I really like that either?? Hmm. It does have cool old-ness factor, but I don't know. And then there's that version of SOTR [yep we're on an abbreviation-basis, me 'n' the old tune] where the Hawaiian guy sings & plays it with his ukulele or something; his sound is nice and mellow, but did he have to screw up the words? Did he have a problem with the language, or was he too lazy to learn them, or did he get nervous and forget them, or was he drunk maybe? It could have been so good.

Well another hour has passed and if you are brave (or really bored) you have finished yet another installment from the Rambling Mitch. It used to say that on my page somewhere I think. Maybe I used up my word quota and it got deleted. See there I go again, rambling!! This is what happens when all of the people I like talking to are really far away.

Ok, get back to your life now, but one last question before I go... Have you ever seen the phrase 'coconut palms' used without being preceded by the word 'swaying'? Swaying coconut palms. Just think about it.

more on today

I went for lunch at a local pub today, where they have a good soup-n-sandwich deal. They were playing 90s music and it was soooo nice, and even better yet they were putting up a Christmas tree inside, all piney smelling and everything. Seeing people decorate Christmas trees is especially welcome when you don't have a home or a tree of your own. On Sunday when I was walking to/from church, people were setting up trees for sale all the way down the street, and it was so tempting to get one, but then i pictured putting it next to my bunk in the hostel... and then carrying it on the plane to Norway... then the train... then the ferry... and needless to say thought the better of it.

Hey I just got a great idea!

Heard on the radio that there was a major ice storm in Central America. Wow!! (This is why it pays to be aware of geographic lingo, or it might sound like the earth has turned sideways.) Hope everyone's doing ok.

I also heard something on the radio about old bands successfully getting back together, 'like the Spice Girls and the Police'. Can those two possibly go in the same conversation, especially in that order??

Ahh, morning...

You should see the light today, enough of a presence from Mother Nature to make any city beautiful. It was meant to be below freezing all night last night. Now the sun is shining from behind some thin clouds, just enough to make everything golden-frosted, the kind of light that grabs every surface it can but leaves the shadows just enough room to make for good contrast. One of the streetlights above me (one of the few which has turned off already) has a little drip of sunlight at the bottom of its globe like dew rolling down in the slight warmth of the new morning. There's magic at every turn; it's like being in a storybook.

 

----------

 

Remember when....

 

'Carbs' were 'carbos'? When did this change? Was it when people traded in their terry cloth head- and wristbands, and their Reeboks for Adidas... when jogging became running... when people realized Richard Simmons wasn't really acting... when Just Say No became Just Leave Me Alone...?

 

Remember when...

 

They played the national anthem on TV and waved the flag around, say, midnight or 1 am, and if you had the TV on too late or turned it on too early, all you saw was fizzy snow or else those colored bars with a long beep behind them?

 

Remember when...

 

Almonds were sensible and cashews were extravagant?

 

Did you ever think about...

 

through

slough

though

thorough

dough

bough

plough

rough

enough

trough

cough

Further to the people-risking-lives-to-run-across-the-street comment...

I just saw at least 15 people standing out in the drizzly cold waiting to use a cash machine. There was an empty one across the street.

The weather got a wee bit warmer over the last few days, but now it's cooling down again. I am off to London for the weekend, and excited about getting a little motion under my feet again. Gee whiz, what's it been, like 3 or 4 weeks already! Moved to a new hostel a couple of days ago, which is way better than El Weirdorado down the street, more room to stretch out and the best mattress I've had at any hostel, and for some reason the people seem way mellower too. There's this really flamboyant middle-aged dude with bleached hair who wears leather pants, and at night he goes into the TV room and starts talking to whoever is listening about all kinds of stuff, like international politics, exchange rates, places to go, whatever people who travel usually talk about I guess. I haven't spent much time listening, but the thing that amazes me is that when he starts talking, all kinds of people gather around and listen; last night there were people standing in the doorway 'cause the seats were full. I don't quite get it, maybe he's like a people magnet or something.

On a completely different note (oh you'll see in a minute why that was such a bad segway! I didn't even mean to...) It might not be too dramatic to say that all the pop music I've been hearing lately is starting to drive me a little nuts. There's this radio station, which unfortunately I have to hear a lot of right now, that plays the same 10 songs over and over... the same 10 that are in every shop you go into, & somehow all over town. Well let me just say that the more modern music I hear (I should say songs, not music... no, maybe even tunes, not songs) the more I appreciate the old songs of yore. Only problem is, now when I hear a nice classic rock song on the radio, or anything from the 70s-80s, I can't enjoy it because I'm waiting for the part where some dumb-ass ruins the song with a lame remix. It's happening in plague proportions right now. They're ruining everything, from the Police to Pink Floyd to Michael Jackson to Supertramp to... it almost makes me sick thinking about it. It's bad enough that the 'industry' is taking all of the art out of music & encouraging people to be soulless entertainers instead of creative musicians, but this!! There's this one song with a chorus, "It's too late to 'pologize, too late," but I say No, it's not too late! He needs to get off his ass and apologize to Journey for stealing the opening to their song "Don't Stop Believing" and not even giving them the credit of a cheesy sample. What's with our world today... (and this isn't even the really bad stuff - notice I don't talk about the news...)

I went into my first pub the other day. You know it's mandatory, in fact it's probably the most exported part of Irish culture around the world. And the most kept domestically too. Aparrently there are tons of young people (like early 20-somethings) getting old-person diseases of the liver & organs because they drink too much. Kinda takes it past the point of being quaint to just sad... But anyway I was trying to say something positive! I had some nice fish & chips with this little thing of mashed peas, and of course a half-pint (it was lunch hour), and it was really good! Can't believe it took this long, but there are tons more places to explore.

Speaking of exploration (better segway?) I'm getting really excited about the thought of Christmas & New Year in Norway!! On a boat!!!!!! If ever I felt guilty for letting too many experiences pass me by because I didn't want to spend the money, I think this one will more than make up for all of them. And I'm reeeeallly hoping to see the aurora borealis - it's one of my childhood dreams!!

Since I already contradicted myself and talked about the news, how about one more news item. The radio gives news reports throughout the day about crimes & stuff happening around the country. It seems like there's always an investigation happening in Limerick. All seriousness aside, does that sound funny to anyone else?

i did it!

just booked a ticket to oslo, norway, and a boat up the coast from bergen to tromso over christmas, & from tromso back down to trondheim over new year. now i just have to find somewhere to stay without breaking the already broken bank!

 

aurora borealis here i come...

---

Bookmakers don't make books

Well the cozy puffy jacket has come out of its tiny stuff-sack, and I really thought I was being a wimp about it till I heard on the radio the other day that it was 2 degrees - almost freezing. In typical Seattle fashion (or I guess typical Irish fashion as the case may be) it has been a little rainy, a lot grey, and cool with chilling breezes most of the time. But I would expect no less from the holiday season! Christmas lights are showing up everywhere and the shops are even playing holiday music now. There's no use in fighting it, it's time to just roll with it!

 

I noticed in my calendar the other day a note that I had written in at the beginning of the trip. Compared to when I started this trip, my previous longest-trip-ever would have ended yesterday. I don't know if it counts now that I've had a break in the middle, but I guess I can say this is the longest I've ever lived out of a backpack at a stretch... so far.

 

It has taken a while, but I think I'm finally in the travel mentality. Was sitting the other night with my little pocket atlas and journal trying to get a rough sketch of the rest of this trip... and I have no idea how I'm going to do it! There are so many places to see, but even if I strip it down to the barest of bare bones, I still think I'm coming up short. I mean I could spend 6 or 12 months just tripping around South America... and Africa, well... I'm sure something will work out, but just the possibility of stopping is starting to sound like a really bad idea.  :-)

 

Speaking of ideas, who's up for some philosophy? First question - is it possible for God to have an opinion? I mean if you know everything, do you still think stuff? Second question - is it hypocrisy for a person who believes in Evolution (capital 'E') and/or Darwinism to help someone?

 

Ok you don't have to play if you don't want to; I know we're never supposed to talk religion or politics (isn't that what they say). But that's boring, and this is really neither anyway, and man's rules are usually meant to be broken.

happy turkey day!!!!

all is well in the bustling town of dublin - a pedestrian town for sure, people everywhere!! jaywalking seems to be a necessity here, maybe even more important than life itself, from the way people run out into the street without even looking, & then have to run back to the curb before they get hit. i would say it's those crazy irish, but honestly i think there are more foreigners here than irish folk. kind of weird, it's like if planet earth had a capital city, this would be it.

 

have been keeping busy of late, doing random stuff and in my walks stepping on as many tsi's as possible. that is, tactile surface indicators (said some random dude in an australian airport when my bro asked 'what are those things?!'), you know those little bumps they put in the sidewalk so people who can't see where they're going still have an idea something's coming up. but for me who can see, it's just like a foot massage every time i get to an intersection! ahhhhh...

 

the streets here are getting familiar, but it's actually a good thing for once. has been kind of nice walking down little lanes, realizing as i'm turning a corner that this is the 'good' part of the walk.... or this.... or this...

 

i have been moving around a little bit within the city, as all the budget accommodations tend to be booked out over the weekends - and in winter, who knew - which sometimes means switching rooms and other times switching hostels. i'm onto hostel #3 next week, and room... i'm not sure. at the last place a band of total dirtbags (dreadlocks, crochet mushroom lighter-holder necklaces, the works) who were passing through town gave us a couple of concerts, playing for a room i think. they turned out to be really good, not trying too hard, but you could tell they all had major talent. anyway hostel environments usually suck, so that was a nice diversion.

 

the current place is not so great, lots of weird rules like the key card for the room only being good for 10 minutes at a time so you constantly have to get it reset, or else just leave the door locked open, which really defeats the purpose of having locks at all. and they keep all the dishes behind the counter at reception and you have to check stuff out. fortunately i've got my msr titan kettle, so i don't have to bother. oh, made my first thai-style curry the other day, in said kettle, tofu, veggies, red curry & coconut milk, the works!

 

well maybe it is the longing for someplace that feels a little more like a home - not for a home, just somewhere a little more comfortable than one hostel after another, constantly around people and nowhere comfortable to kick back & relax. i'm seeing my family almost every night in my dreams, just doing random stuff. like the other night my dad & i pulled into a new town, & didn't remember till the end of a tiring day that we had volunteered to give someone a city tour that night, & all i could think about was wanting to go to sleep but we had to make dinner & learn about the town before the tour. maybe not the best sign when you dream about being tired, huh? i've had a few dreams about various little kids, to the point where i'm convinced that the m's are going to make a little boy soon. and i have to say to my bro & sis-in-law, i've dreamt up your 3-yr old daughter and 2-yr old son, and each of them was the most amazing person in the world, i can't even explain it... not to put you on the spot or anything, but i think the world will be at a loss if you don't get off your asses soon!! (gather ye rosebuds while ye may...)

 

what else, did anybody else hear that the smashing pumpkins - that is to say, quite possibly greatest band of all time, is having a reunion tour?!!!!!

 

well time is running short in more ways than just the philosophical. i've been on this computer for waaaay too long trying to plan my christmas escape. but today is thanksgiving. my favorite!! hope you are all having a good one!

 

things to be thankful for...

- faraway places

- tasty meals in ti kettles

- dreams to be dreamt

- feet to walk all day (and stand on tsi's)

- all of you, of course!

 

lots of love...

it's kind of funny...

...but i swear there are like 3 irish pubs on every corner here, and they keep playing U2 on the radio. what kind of place is this?!

ha ha. ok so had a few more days in the huuuuuge town of prague before catching a flight to dublin. on the way saw the best circular-rainbow-around-plane-shadow of all time, right next to us in the clouds, huge & vibrant. i was groping for my camera but just couldn't reach it in time.

dublin's a much smaller city & much more manageable than the last few, thank goodness! there was even some sunshine when i arrived, though it hasn't hung around much. looks like i'll be around here for a while, with the possibility of picking up some cash-ola along the way, maybe move on after the new year. it's a good place to be, albeit my 5th big city in a row (!) - actually 9th if you count my visit to the usa. need to get out into the country again one of these days before i go craaaaazyyyyy, but at this point i'm not sure when it will be.

oh yeah i fell in love for the second time on this trip. the first time was the sailboat in croatia, did i ever mention that one? oh my goodness it was so beautiful, my palms were sweating and everything. so the other day is was in an outdoor-type shop just looking around, & passed the usual rack of travel books, when my eye wandered back to a cover, "Trans-Siberian Railway". oh me oh my. heart racing, butterflies in the stomach, i could swear there were birds singing in the shop! sometimes i think i'm getting a little weary in the travel biz, this was a nice reminder that i really haven't lost it. it's a definite plan now! probably not during this trip, but it just has to be done. tee hee.

what else, wandered around & found a bunch of health shops, which i was really excited to see. even bought a not-so-great soy-product imitation-peperoni stick thing, just because i could. i'm not really into the veg-imitation stuff, but i think i was high on health fumes or something.

well i may be hanging around dublin for a while, but it doesn't mean the feet are keeping still. i just booked a ticket to london for the last weekend of the month, to go to a dinner with my croatian language school folks. and i still have to figure out what to do for christmas. accommodations are looking pretty full here, and i still have that thought lingering in the back of my head, of a freezing dark scandinavian christmas....

In the land of puppets & wooden toys...

Another dark afternoon, the kind that typifies both the beauty and solemnity of the fall season. Today was my first day of exploring the town of Prague, a place with a mystique in the name alone that says it's a necessary stop on any successful round-the-world trip. As for other reasons, there were none, but it was added to the list for the sake of mere curiosity (aren't they all though!).

Walking from my accommodation on the 'other' side of the river, close to the train station, towards where the famous town should be, I of course found my way down all the least travelled, and sometimes least desirable, backstreets and paths, a Seattle-esque area with its combination of glum emptiness and regretful-looking but beautiful-smelling weepy autumn trees. After following the river for a while I came at last to a main road leading right into the center of the old town. Instantly as I turned down it there were folks everywhere strolling along, looking in shop windows, taking photos and holding maps in front of their faces like torches on a dark night.

Turning up this street, I followed it till I came to yet another spectacular European square. With the obligatory mind-blowing cathedral to one side, and all kinds of beautiful ancient buildings around, this square has the added touch of the smaller buildings around being all in pastels. I leaned for a while on a fence watching hundreds if not thousands of people doing their thing, and horse-drawn carriages stopping to let people off after their city tours. The horses had little hats on that fit over their ears, it was pretty dang cute, maybe this is normal for carriage-pullers but I don't think I've ever seen it before.

Anyway spent the next few hours just wandering around in whatever direction looked the most interesting, down empty old lanes but more often shop-lined (and tourist-lined) ones. I happened to turn a corner and see an art shop with some of the most beautiful paintings I've ever seen. Literally. Also saw some nice ceramics in another window that reminded me of that shop in Bothell - you know in that old-fashioned center with the bead shop in the train car (or is it a bus), where the big chicken statue or whatever it is sits out in front - I think it's a Polish(?) ceramic shop, nice stuff in there. Even for someone who doesn't like 'stuff' - it's easy to appreciate nice craftsmanship or design.

I would exaggerate to say the highlight of my evening was - that would be way too disrespectful of a spectacular day, but I was pretty excited nonetheless - when I finally succeeded after visiting about 10 or 12 shops in 2 cities, at finding a new watch battery. Sometimes the simplest things can be not-so-simple when you're in a new place.

After hours of wandering and not looking forward to retracing some of those streets on my own in the dark, I decided to take the metro back to the hostel. They have the fastest escalators in that tunnel that I've ever seen, and people were running everywhere. I thought at first they must all have had important places to go, but decided in the end they were just used to speed after riding those escalators.

Once back I buried myself in the current read for a while, 'The Old Curiosity Shop'. I love Dickens.

Nothing can prepare you for exactly what you'll see in a new town. Nothing short of research I guess, but what fun is that... After virtually - no, literally - no research on the place, I have to say, though of course a bit different from the pictures in my head, this is the Prague I was hoping to find.

too cool for school

had a few easy days in vienna, seeing the sights & amazing architecture, including the innovative Haus der Musik, a museum all about music & sound. lots of displays on how sound is created & perceived, sound wave interactions etc. but the most interesting part by far (and by interesting i mean totally bizarre) was the womb room - where they simulate through sounds (and a little dome with a video of a fetus) what it might be like to go back into the womb. or i should say, to be back in the womb, not go back, yikes!  the sounds were weird, i think it would have been scary to start life that way! though it was kind of like the line for the space mountain ride at disneyland.

 

got a train from vienna to prague yesterday, & checked into a hostel which might be a little too cool for me. a place full of young beautiful-people, & when i first walked up there was a van parked out front with what could only be a rock band inside. there's a room here just for girls, and i hear that they give out free goodie bags of make-up & stuff... gag me with a spoon! i won't be venturing in there to find out anyway. clean place though, new, so comfortable enough.

 

today i made a point of getting up early enough for some free breakfast, so i'd have a few hours of sunlight to go explore the town. has been getting dark dang early these days, the farther north i travel, & with a dead watch battery to boot, i keep being caught off guard at how early it is.

 

well it looks like my monkey in space picture didn't come out, will have to try a different way next time.... don't be disappointed, it was really just a picture of a speaker with a sign next to it that said "monkey in spaceshuttle" in 4 or 5 languages. at least i didn't get your hopes up with a picture of the womb room.

north it is...

ok first i should say sorry for the terrible punctuation, cant seem to find any of the important keys on this computer. or rather i can see stuff printed on the keys, but nothing is working. kind of a half english half hungarian system or something.

 

anyway...

 

it has been a week and the jetlag, or whatever it is, is still pulling down on my eyelids like a warm wool hat. my ultimate destination for the next week or so is dublin, where i may or may not be able to get work for a travel company... have to see when i get there. but i thought instead of going straight there it would be more interesting to take the long way... via budapest, vienna and prague. hey, why not.

 

budapest is a huuuuuge city, or conglomeration of cities i should say. beautiful in lots of ways, lots of parks, and autumn is such a magical season anyway. found myself a personal tourguide, that is to say the other person at the hostel where i'm staying, a very friendly romanian who offered to show me some of the city sights. nice to have some company for a while. spent all of yesterday walking up, down and all around, taking in gigantic views of the city and the great blue river danube, which didnt look blue to me, but big and winding nonetheless. and sparkly when the lights hit it in the evening.

 

lets see, while in zagreb i devoured a fantastically wonderful book - thanks sg! - called The River Why. highly, highly recommended, really enjoyable writing style and subject. i should give a disclaimer that i dont 100 percent agree with all the authors philosophical/religious implications, for instance that the love of wisdom would require rejecting all forms of dogma or answers basically until we die and know for sure. gross paraphrase on my part and taken from a fictitious dialogue, but a principle that i believe was introduced intentionally... i think to test all things and hold fast to what is good and true - this would have to be a purer wisdom... i mean there are some things in life we can test and then accept dogmatically, like don't hold your hand in a flame because it will burn, or drink water or you will dry up. my long winded point being that you should definitely read this book, but keep your thinking cap on... as always! excellent, excellent book, read it read it read it!!

 

why do i feel like dr bronner with his spaceship planet earth, cleanliness next to godliness, and dilute dilute dilute! do they still print that stuff on the bottles...

 

so i was thinking today, because of a clip on animal planet that showed a swimming elephant and said Back to the Water... or something... that it's weird - hey i just found the apostrophe key! - to think creatures actually would have adapted from aquatic beings to land beings. i mean we live on a water planet - something like 75 percent, right. so why would a creature naturally adapt to cut its territory to 1/3 of the size. isn't that kind of like if all the land animals now migrated north and adapted to living on ice caps? hey, just found the question mark key too! it just doesn't make sense to me. just a thought, apros-pos of nothing!

 

what else... fall is in full swing, the sky is dark, it was really cold in zagreb!! a bit warmer here in hungary, but dark just the same.

 

i heard the clock turned back today. who knew...

Never Eat Shredded Wheat

well the compass needle is spinning once again, and i have arrived back at my leaving-off point of zagreb. it was a whirlwind month in the usa... somehow my brain decided to put off processing everything until 'later' (which i guess means now, unless i can put it off a few more days). just keeping up with visits and happenings day-to-day was about all this little noggin could manage, & now it's like there's a whole world sitting just beneath the surface - like those little bubbles you get in a pot just before the water breaks into a rolling boil.

 

i have to say, finding myself stateside in the middle of a trip wasn't nearly as weird as i thought it was going to be (have i ever mentioned my chronic recurring travel-nightmare where i'm suddenly 'home' and don't know how i'll finish my trip? have had that one for years...). i mean, the place of course is weird, but instead of putting a wrench in the works i think going back has made everything feel a lot closer. the last 7 months went by like nothing, and as i was once again walking down the streets of zagreb it finally sank in that any place is just a flight or three away. and though i usually wouldn't include the usa on my list of top destinations, i wouldn't trade the time i had there for anything - i haven't spent so much time with my dad since we lived in the same house when i was a teenager, it was awesome; sitting up till the wee hours of the morning just talking, meeting his friends at his local coffee shop, realizing that half of me really is his dna and the fruit doesn't fall so far from the tree after all. plus the bonus of getting to see everyone else was better than... let's see, coffee on a winter's day... or chocolate on any day... or a warm fireplace when it's raining outside... even better than mint-chip ice cream. that's right, even better than that!

 

tons of thanks to everyone who took time to see me, i can't tell you how much it means to me. i love you all so much, sometimes it physically hurts. i wish there was more time, but then again if we had a hundred years i'd still be thinking that it wasn't enough. the miles aren't so huge after all, and i know that the next few months are likely to fly by as quickly as the first. with a much-needed recharge, and so many more places to visit, it's definitely time for the next chapter...

 

now, do i go west or east?...

sky soup

well the honeymoon must be over... after a few breathtakingly beautiful days of
clear skies and sparkling seas, the OC has returned to its old familiar self.
now the nearby hills are all but invisible, and from time to time there's a
hint of that old achey-lung syndrome. i guess we can't live in delusion for too
long.

i have to say though, driving through laguna beach the other day (one of the
sparkly clean days) i realized that i still love that town. shame it's in the
middle of orange county, poor thing. a few changes around town... the age-old
fixture Pottery Shack has sadly gone away and been replaced/commemorated by
some kind of cafe with a sign reading 'The Old Pottery Place'. at least the
greeter statue is still there on the corner, motionlessly waving to all the
passers-by... in a backward turn of events (for this town) the place on the
highway formerly known as Victor Victoria, before that the Little Shrimp, seems
to have turned into a so-called normal establishment. no more painted
silhouettes of he-shes on the windows, awww... moving up the coast, i also
found the old Port theatre sporting blacked-out windows and empty marquis. i
hope some of those newport beachies are planning to revive the Port, town
wouldn't be the same without it.

at least some things haven't changed; it seems from the bits & pieces i've been
picking up of local radio stations, most of them are still playing the same
stuff they were playing when i lived here 10+ years ago. it just completes the
feeling of being in a time warp every time i visit.

well somehow i thought that unlike every single other day of my life, these few
weeks in so cal would go really slowly. some people never learn. of course the
days are whizzing by faster than i can count them, & i'm stressing a little
about the next step - finding a job. work permits aren't so easy to come by
when you're travelling on a US passport. i've still got lots of research to do though...

touchdown

visited some more family over my last few days in dubrovnik, including 2 more
of my grandma's first cousins that i didn't know about before, and again
everyone was so welcoming. one of the cousins kept saying to me, "krv je krv" -
that is to say, "blood is blood". i felt so blessed to see that the vast time &
distance between our sides of the family hasn't really separated us.

after leaving dubrovnik i had a few lovely days in zagreb & around, catching up
with some friends and a couple more relatives. sometimes i'm just plain amazed
in life; people i met only a few weeks ago have become like old friends, and
this place has become so familiar in so many ways.

having a plan and ticket to return to croatia in a month has made it much
easier to come back to the states for a while. my flight from zagreb was
supposed to connect in frankfurt before continuing on to dc and then lax, but
we misconnected in frankfurt by 20 minutes or so. after a couple of hours in
line i was rebooked on a nonstop flight the next morning, and given a hotel
voucher. apparently there was a lot going on in town & places were booked up,
so i ended up in a really nice boutiquey hotel, with marble bathroom & all. you
can always tell the quality of a hotel from the quality of the bathroom
(straight from a plumber's daughter, eh?). of course if you'd asked me before
if i would like to stand in line for hours listening to the americans behind me
giving loud & all-knowing commentary for every single event in the airport, and
wind up with a night in germany and an extra day of not seeing my family, i
would have said no. but things being what they were i saw it as a mini-holiday,
all expenses paid, and a sneak preview at a new part of europe. and i have to
say, frankfurt is absolutely beeeeeautiful!!! i was amazed flying in at the
quantity and density of green - forests everywhere, between all the farms &
villages, even just outside the city. riding in the hotel shuttle from the
airport, i knew that the 'tree-lined' roads weren't just a facade, they were
surrounded by deep forest. it was cold and the air (actually everything) was
sparkling clean. didn't get into the city proper, but the outskirts were enough
for me. this is a place i have to go back to!!!

the other bright side was that instead of having to drive to lax at midnight,
my dad got to pick me up at noon. more sleep for him, even if it meant some
23-or-so-hours of daytime for me. anyway the sunlight coming through the plane
window was warm and the views were so amazing... arctic mountainous areas &
icebergs in the sea, then over canada & down the west coast - around kamloops
was beautiful, the rockies spectacular... and i have to admit, even southern
california looked nice till we got just over lost angeles. i think the northern
approach is the best i've seen so far. of course once we got over the city it
looked like a complete slum.

anyway, met my dad at the airport & started chatting the whole way to his
house. sadly (i found out from croatia) my grandma didn't make it till my
visit. better for her because she didn't have to suffer for long, but still sad
for the rest of us. timing is everything though. a lady always hidden in
mystery, we knew her present self well but almost nothing about her past & that
side of our family. but not too long ago some relatives tracked down my dad &
started corresponding. lo and behold [what would i do without that phrase]
we're learning stuff we never suspected - scotchmo, wait till you get here! -
now we've got stories to uncover and more people to discover. in the midst of
our loss we've also been blessed with gain. krv je krv, after all.

well i have kept the traveler's eyes on, as much as possible, and have to say
it has been absolutely beautiful here. i don't think i've seen days like this
since i was a little kid, in the days before 'the o.c.' was called 'the o.c.',
when there were orange groves everywhere and little frogs hopping around our
yard. ok maybe it's not quite that good, but still impressive. mom said even a
few days ago the smog was so thick you couldn't see up the street, so i came
just at the right time.

i'm grateful for what i've got - beautiful weather, parents to catch up with,
really good churches (which i was not so good at finding on the road; must be
having withdrawals, i've already been twice in 2 nights). these things are
really helpful considering my present state of complete and utter culture
shock. it's kind of overwhelming. straight from a land of beautiful villages &
towns where life with all its complication is somehow simple and families share
the same house for generations, to the fast-food fast-moving land of
individualism, concrete, big cars, 12-lane freeways, and thinking this is the
only place in the world... multiplied by 10 in this part of the state! i know
this was kind of a different place before (kind of) but i still can't believe i
grew up here, it's a walking freak show!!!!

at least there are good reasons to be here, and the northwest is just a few
weeks away...

dubrovnik

ahhhh.... it's no surprise the whole world is discovering dalmatia. the more
time i spend here the more amazing it gets. ok i may be a little biased (just a
little, ha ha) but i think the greater population agrees with me!

have been spending time catching up with more dear family and loving every
minute of it. i was just commenting to a friend that these people are like a
lost treasure to me; i'd heard about them for so long, & only met them last
year, and somehow they seem just as happy to know me as i am to know them...
which never ceases to amaze me!

lots of family news in a short time... in the last 3 months or so there have
been 3 weddings and 1 baby. i thought nothing would've changed in the last
year, boy was i wrong!

there was a huge fire in dubrovnik a few weeks ago, & the top half of all of
the hillsides are black. apparently there were strong winds during the fire &
they couldn't bring in any planes to fight the fire, so it was all done on the
ground. amazingly enough, i think only one house was burnt. it's absolutely
mind-blowing to see this line of fire, but all the houses below are still
surrounded by green. or in some places the houses were surrounded by flames,
even some of the grapes on their terraces were burnt, but the houses are ok.
miraculous.

the weather went from hot-hot before i got here to pretty cold & rainy, but the
last 2 days have been nice, warm & calm. just the way i like it... :-)

a few more family visits, then a few days in zagreb, then across the ocean for
a while... thinking of you all...

down the coast

i had a lovely visit in opatija, in the northern part of croatia, mostly sunny with some huuuge storms in the early afternoons. have been seeing a lot of that lately, pouring rain, wind, thunder & lightning, and then warm sun within an hour. and of course, after every good storm comes a good rainbow... a lesson in life perhaps?

 

got to catch up with some family in opatija, who i really enjoyed seeing. (on a complete tangent, i'm voting that we abolish the word 'whom'. i mean there are so many times when we're supposed to use it, & it just sounds lame. anyway...) spent some good time with the relies, including being taken to their friends' wedding ceremony which happened to be in the church where my great grandparents were married. 'tis the season apparently, because there were 7 weddings in the church that day, and a good 7 more around town just from what we saw & heard, everyone walking or driving down the street with their musicians in tow. it wasn't a totally traditional scene (as the whole world is becoming one big homogenized blob) but still different enough from what i'm used to to be interesting. way more laid back too. i think that Bridezilla show would flop here.

 

of course the details of my family visits are probably way more interesting to me than anyone else, so i might spare you some of the details, just to say, so far so great!

 

while in opatija i was camped at nearby icici, which was nice and quiet now that the tourist season is slowing down ever so slightly. i even found a spot for my tent with nobody around for at least a good half-field-length, and took a deep breath of relief. but much to my chagrin, returning in the evening after a stroll i found a gigantic campervan thing, complete with satellite dish strung out to the side, parked literally about 7 feet behind my tent. at least they had the sense not to park in front of my tent, but there was soooo much space everywhere else, i still think it wouldn't be inappropriate or offensive to use the word 'retarded' here. this could even be a literal definition. they and their yappy little dog fortunately only stayed a few nights, and then came some quiet relief again... until one morning at 8am, after late late night (lots going on in town, loud music till 2am & general restlessness) i heard the lovely melodic sound of what could best be described as not-quite-yelling voices in my most favorit-est germanic lilt, surrounding my tent. dang kids with loud cars & really loud voices. fortunately unlike the last visitors they only lasted a few hours, and i had a nice nap in the afternoon.

 

well i am in paradise and i shouldn't spend the whole time complaining. perhaps it helps me not to take out my frustration on people, to think that one day it will make a story for my travel page. keep the non-christian thoughts in my head till they dissipate (i shouldn't amit how many there are!) and i get in a lot less trouble that way too!

 

i don't know that opatija really clicked for me on the last visit, but this time was different. i really, really enjoyed it. beautiful seaside atmosphere, boats everywhere, & a surprising amount of green in the hills just above. i really don't know how this country has survived thousands of years of population and various empires without being totally built up, it's nothing short of a miracle.

 

alas it was time to move on, and i took the overnight ferry from rijeka down between the islands & dalmatian coast to dubrovnik. i sat up on deck all night singing kumbaya. just kidding. but i did stretch out my sleeping bag on deck, was pretty nice! views that can't be beat, even some sunshine the 2nd day, and some good tunes to keep the mind occupied.

 

i'm now staying with a cousin in dubrovnik and catching up with all the family news, of which there's a lot! hoping to visit more relies in the next few days, and to keep my mind working at learning the language, which i'll be needing a lot more of to talk to some of the older folks. looking forward to lots of smiles and shrugs!

intermission

well! where do i start... i think i left off somewhere in italy. my last stop in italy was the classic, oozing-with-character city of venice. i stayed in a camping place in the suburb of marghera which was, well, a suburb. the camping place was like backpackersville on steroids, that is to say half-dressed 20-somethings strutting around the pool & forgetting to turn off faucets in the bathroom. the best part about the place was a couple of greeks i ran into, who reminded me a little of those two brownies from the movie 'willow' or maybe of those two guys on that 80's sitcom (i want to say 'perfect strangers'?) - one of them was from some other country, they were cousins or something - i never actually saw it but for some reason there was a connection.

 

dang, enough about 80's sitcoms, i have lots of travel updates! so.... venice. ahhhh.... i think if i actually knew my way around there it wouldn't be half as fun. i just love getting lost down little alleyways and finding my way more by instinct than by any plausible observation. i had forgotten about all the different colors of marble they used on the old buildings there, love that too. the waterfront, which was under construction last year, was complete and absolutely packed with tourists. but i think maybe the best thing about venice is that there are no cars... and boats everywhere! if it's gotta be a city, that's the way to do it.

 

and i have to say that i absolutely love that you can get good water for free, from the middle of any square in any town. one of the caesars was thinking there. for a minute anyway.

 

before departing italy i had a few more frustrating post office experiences, and then what could be my worst cafe visit ever, though i won't go into detail (did i already mention that you should never, ever, no never try to do anything in a timely fashion in italy). anyway i was soon on the fast boat across the adriatic sea to the island of losinj, croatia.

 

i think i must have inherited my grandma's rose-colored glasses toward anything croatian. she always told us stories of how great croatians & the country were, and i have to admit i thought she was kind of biased... but now i totally buy it. stepped off the boat into a clean, sparkling, absolutely beautiful old town of mali losinj, and noticed right away that the boats were prettier, the water & even air a nicer color, the men better looking, the restaurants better smelling (and there is good presentation even with cheap meals - you must have to spend the big bucks to get a good meal in italy, or maybe i just didn't know where to look, not too impressed anyway).not to worry, i have become a pocket rocket gourmet! the best little camp stove anywhere.oh, and there were actually signs on the road directing to various important locations, hotels etc (something else i'd noticed a lack of elsewhere). i could go on & on...

 

but as dickens once said, 'it was the best of times, it was the worst of times'. i didn't actually think about where & when i was landing, i just gave myself a few extra days to relax before my language class started in nearby cunski. low & behold (what does that mean anyway) i planted myself right in the middle of one of the busiest tourist destinations, in the busiest part of the season. people everywhere!!!!!! the camping area was absolutely packed - and when i say camping i mean big caravans & campervans with attached tents the size of some apartments i've lived in, tvs, garden furniture, the works. honestly i don't know why some people leave home. anyway, i think it was back in may that i was reeeeallly

  reeeaaalllly craving some quiet time away from the hustle and bustle. 

 

well not only were there crowds, but there were people staring at me all the time. no, i'm not exaggerating. entire families craning there necks almost 180 degrees to keep looking as they walked by. actually they were looking at my tent (i think) but it got really annoying. then there was the group of drunken wenches that came by around 2am and were actually trying to look inside my tent, giggling, not realizing how lucky they were that there were no rocks nearby for me to throw. 

 

whoa, i have no idea what i just pressed but all my typing is coming out backwards, what the...

 

ok so in the midst of island paradise i totally hit my people limit, and had a kind of rough few days. not to worry though, i was soon on my way to cunski and good people!! if you ever want to learn croatian (ok i may be speaking to a very limited audience here, ha ha) this is the place to do it. language classes were great, cooking classes in the afternoon were lots  of fun, who'd have thunk it... and the company couldn't be beat. spent a few extra days there at the end, where a few of us did some more cooking, got to meet some new people (good croatian family atmosphere) & even did a little fishing at the local beach..

 

i am now in opatija, & will be making the rounds to visit family here, in dubrovnik, and then in zagreb.

 

life takes turns sometimes, and i am cutting the croatia portion of the trip short. my grandma (dad's side) is not well, and i'm taking a month off to visit her. will be in so cal for a few weeks, then will spend a few days in seattle before returning to europe. would you believe it's like 2/3 of the price to fly roundtrip as it is to fly oneway. seriously why would i pay so much more for so much less... never really liked airline business anyway. (can't live with 'em, can't live without 'em.)

 

i hope to see as many of you as i can while i'm in the us. i know it will be a tough time, & i might not be so good at calling everyone, but please feel free to email me or call my family & hopefully i can make the most of it and see some of yas! will try to get some photos up soon...

 

peace out 

i know, i know

i owe you some travel page updates and emails!!

 

internet access not so good here on losinj, & i've got about 2 mins left of this session. missing all of you, but keeping the mind busy with my croatian class which started today - language in the morning, cookery in the afternoon!!

 

will try to be in touch soon... thanks for your emails!!!

 

lots of love,

m

questions for the peanut gallery

hey i almost forgot! i have a couple of questions for you guys...

 

- it occurred to me walking up the mtn the other day, that the smell of pine makes me happy. i mean physically happy, regardless of my mood. i just feel  happy all over. is there any science to this?

 

- i walked past a stone wall the other night after a warm day and noticed that the mortar between the stones was actually radiating more heat than the stones themselves. this interests me because of thermal mass you need when building a passively heated/cooled house. i suppose it depends on the materials themselves, but would concrete or brick generally be better than stone

 

oh i just lost the question mark key, where did it go... funny keyboard.

sud tirol & dolomiti

back in bolzano after a few beeeeautiful days further up in the mountains. well i have to say i have been spoiled growing up with isolated mountain wilderness instead of having to share all the beautiful spots with the rest of the continent. i showed up the other day at the seiser alm campground, to find the entire vehicular cast of a yogi bear summer yosemite adventure, complete with screaming kids and old men lounging around in speedos. my first thought when i found out the price of the "camping" was (and i quote): f this, dude, i'm poaching! there aren't many options for camping up in that part of the dolomites, and wild camping is a real no-no... although i've been told that if you set up late and leave early, nobody really bothers you. suppose i went a little soft though. after the first night or two at the campground, and realizing that poaching would mean covering less ground in more time with all my stuff on my back, and finding a way to keep busy till 10pm when it gets dark before setting up somewhere, not to mention trying to find a place not full of people... well i ended up staying at caravan city after all.

 

you should have seen the place. i went to find the toilet, down some stairs and into a medieval-times-ish little complex of bathrooms, showers, dish & laundry room, even a dog shower (seriously!), with moulded ceilings decorated like the hall of a castle, everything polished and pristine and huge - at least 20 sinks with pull-down spray nozzles for dishes, 10 shower stalls with private sink rooms adjacent, hair dryers on the wall - plus music piped in 24/7 and a pleasant fountain in the middle. no wonder they charge so much for a patch of grass, not to mention being the only game in town.

 

a couple of thoughts on camping in this part of the world:

- don't expect solitude... till you get on a trail going up.

- don't expect wilderness; there are thousands of years of history with people and farms all over the place, and if you can get there, somebody else has probably been there for generations. it's pretty charming once you know to expect villages, the places are just gorgeous. farms spread across shimmering green hillsides, baroque-style churches with tops shaped like shallots, ruins of castles, bells ringing everywhere...

- but if you still need a wild fix... i've been thinking about gear etc, and i think maybe a good setup for poaching would be a bivy (no tent to set up / take down) plus a lightweight tarp so you have somewhere to hang out if it rains. no i take that back, maybe just a tarp & no bivy, to keep it light & lo-pro. the other thing is that it's probably best not to go in peak summer season when everybody and their mother (literally) is in the same spot.

 

well i may be getting a bit lazy, or perhaps i've just spent enough time under a huge pack to appreciate not carrying one everywhere. made a day loop from the campground - i hope the photos come out, it was gorgeous up there!! - up & over the top of sciliar (schlern) and back around santner on the other side. left at noon and didn't get back till quarter-to-10pm, long day for me! the beautiful thing about summer is that it was only just getting dark enough to want a light. i have to say i feel like a total slacker after checking out craig's trail journal and seeing that he's putting in 30-mile days, hokey smokes!! in about 9 hours i walked a bit over 20k (maybe 13 miles) with just a daypack! granted i wasn't in a hurry, the first 5 hours were up-up-up and the last 4 dowwwnn, for the most part, but still... 

 

had to take lots of photos of course, as views of the surrounding mountains increased. wildflowers everywhere (wait till you see the one that looks like felt!), even stopped to let a butterfly lick my hand. on the way up i took the route that looked more interesting on the map - all the elevation gain in the first couple of kms, then straight across the top. it was pretty sheer going up (not scary sheer, just dang steep) and judging by the other rocky mountain tops around i was really surprised to find things turning to rolling green grass toward the top. it had looked pretty flat up there on the  map, but i didn't know there would be big fields and cows to boot! took the tourist route on the way down, serenaded by the sound of cow bells in the valley. it felt like i was walking down the middle of a big wind chime. lots of gravel on the way down, tons actually, almost the whole way was long smooth sloping trails of gravel. kind of annoying, but who am i to complain, what a beautiful day!!

 

spent some time checking out the surrounding areas, gorgeous little villages, local lakes etc. people keep speaking german to me, because of course everyone in sud tirol speaks german. except for me. i mean come on, if you live in a country with such a beautiful language as italian, why on earth would you deliberately choose to speak such a... oops, getting myself into trouble! i will say that i had a really nice german neighbor at the campground, an older guy with a deep laugh through a nutcracker grin, harr harr harr! he made friends with everyone in the tent area and had lots of good regional info to share.

 

what else, goodness me, i've been at this computer for an hour!! dang technology. will spend a couple more nights in bolzano - not a bad town so i'm really not in a hurry to leave - then i'm planning to head to magical venezia for a few days before crossing the adriatic into croatia!! a part of my heart has been aching since this whole trip started, just wanting to get back to croatia, & now i'm dangerously close!!

a river runs thru it

i don't think i realized till i was leaving cogne how incredibly sad i was to do so. what a beautiful place. found a trail to run on and had a few jogs in the mountains, to what i decided by the 3rd visit was my favorite spot in the valley - wooden bridge across the river & big flat rocks by the bank, with amazing views of glaciers, peaks, river and valley. lulling sound of water rushing by, that constant flow of energy...

 

but it was time to move on if for nothing else than the sake of moving on, and i caught a train to milan. ended up overnighting there so as not to get to the next spot in the middle of the night. if you're ever in milan and need a place to stay, the city hotel central station is a great option -  pretty much the cheapest place in town (if you're happy to share a room with 2 other people), conveniently next to the station, & super nice people working there. anyhoo...

 

caught a train the next morning to bolzano-bozen. all the names, signs etc are in italian and german. (unlike the french-speaking region, i think i'll be sticking to italian this time, ha ha). the town had an immediate charm, and looking through some tourist info i discovered that it's busting at the seams with culture, not only arts events everywhere, but a bunch of museums, castles, etc. had a couple of amazing days with a new friend from arcata, including visiting a museum with a supposed 6000-year-old ice man. tons of gear found with him, clothing etc, totally fascinating. "i'm just a caaaave man..... your world scaaares me!" today visited a castle with 14th-century paintings on the interior walls, really cool. it´s a beautiful town, river down the middle with bike paths on both sides - lots of riverside walks -nice architecture in town, views of castles and vineyards...

 

still need to get back into the mountains though!! i think that's on the agenda for tuesday. ciao for now!

moving pictures

well it has been a while. i've been enjoying some much-needed down time in the tent, in the mountains, the italian alps to be specific, parco nazionale gran paradiso to be even more specific, and boy is it beautiful!!

 

let's see, where did we leave off... oh my goodness, getting here. i picked a weird time to start reading bradbury, thought for a minute one of his stories was coming to life in front of me. i was connecting in a train station at chivasso, when this old man walks straight off the platform and smacks his head on the rail. blood everywhere. this guy went down to help, & i went to the other side, and everyone else just sat there. we got him back up on the platform, & then i noticed this other old man stumbling off in the other direction; a guy kept holding him back so he didn't do the same thing. so here's our old guy gushing blood out of his head, and the guy who originally went to help him went and sat down with his wife. another lady walked up with a packet of tissues, handed me one, and walked away. people looking at me, as if i can help this guy, when i don't even speak the language enough to ask for help! i went & asked the first guy if someone was coming to help, & he said (i gather) that he thought someone in the station might be coming out. very concerned, ha. so i look across the tracks at the station, and there are all these men just standing there looking over. i waved them over, & they just kind of looked at me till someone said something to the effect of "sanguine" (aka, dude is bleeding)... so eventually they wandered over with some paper towels. you should have seen the gash on this guy's head. anyway, finally they took over, which seemed to encompass giving him paper towels and filling out some paperwork. just bizarre. i'm guessing those two old guys were either the town drunks or maybe just out of their heads, but still, an injury is an injury. i couldn't believe how everyone just sat there with this old guy lying face down on the train tracks.

 

soooo... got on the next train and away from weirds-ville, and soon lost the sick feeling in my stomach when i arrived at cogne, the prettiest little alpine town you can imagine!! spent a couple of days there, then walked up the valley to valnontey where my camp has been set up for about the last week.

 

marmots in the hills, ibex, crazy domestic front-half-black-back-half-white goats, a few foxes here and there, who are apparently capable of amazing feats of theft... oh, i have a question for you!! does anyone know if a marmot is the same thing as, or related to, a groundhog??

 

the other night i saw something that just shouldn't be. there was this little kid pedalling a tiny bicycle with all his might, which wasn't going anywhere! i thought his folks were close by, & started up the hill to my campsite, when i heard crying behind me. someone did help him though, & soon he was pedalling away. oh my goodness, it was just so sad. i mean bicycles should really go when you pedal them. especially tiny bicycles.

 

so i had lots of time to do absolutely nothing, think, read, write, miss you all, etc etc. and then i started exploring!! my goodness this place is spectactular!! beautiful alpine views everywhere, glaciers above, trees, flowers, butterflies... it was really stinking cold for a few days. thank goodness for down jackets & nice sleeping bags. i don't have a thermometer with me, but i'm guessing from the pinkness of my fingers that it must have been in the mid-to-low 40s for a couple of days there. the sun is back though, and i hear it may stick around for a few days!!

 

had some much needed company yesterday. my conversations have been limited to a few words in fratalian. that is to say, people here speak mostly french, but also use italian. i can't always keep track of which language i'm speaking, the words just come out however they want to! so i actually got to speak in english yesterday. first, though, i had the alpen walk of a lifetime yesterday, views you dream of, up-up-up into the mountains, panorama at the top. so i stopped to take some photos, and made a friend! along came a spanish girl who stopped to chat for a while - i liked her instantly, & it's no wonder, since her name is mercedes! maybe all mercedes are nice. later in the evening i enjoyed the company of some young british climbers down the hill from my campsite. i must have talked their ears off, poor things.

 

wow, there were so many things i wanted to write, why do i forget them all when i get in front of a computer. hope everyone's doing well, as always. i'm thinking about heading to the dolomites next. that is if i'm not lured to a warmer coastal area. ah, more mountains just sound so good though!!

there must be a reason

so i traded in my sawadee-kah for a buongiorno, and headed for italy via qatar. got a glimpse out the plane window of everything i envisioned for a peek at the middle east - sand, sand, a few palm trees & tiny shrubs, a few sand colored buildings, and more sand. air hazy with maybe a max 1/2 mile visibility, like a seattle morning or like that classic chocolate sky in the OC (they still insist on calling it a 'marine layer' - honestly folks...) but this i believe was all dust. 45 degrees outside (really stinking hot) and lots of men wearing lightweight white clothes, and all the women with them covered head to toe in solid black. hmm.

so milan ... well if i could take two themes with me from this place, it would be 1) don't expect to get anything done on the day you want to get it done, and 2) don't expect any smiles. i don't know why, people here look at you but will not smile for any reason whatsoever (as far as i can tell - and people keep staring at my feet - i think my chacos aren't stylish enough for designerville or something). since big cities are really only good for getting stuff done, i resolved to mail a package, get some extra passport pages, get a new sim card for my phone, etc etc... well every thing that could have taken a few minutes has stretched over days. the sim card was the only thing easy to get, but i've been trying with various phone shop people for 3 days to make it work. siggghhh.

so my departure from milan has been delayed for a while. usually when this happens there's a good reason for it down the road (now i'm curious!). but today i bought a train ticket, and tomorrow i am of to aosta and possibly straight through to cogne or valnontey, gateway to the western alps!! i've given up on the idea of getting away from people or camping out in the wild - apparently you just can't do that here - but am hoping for at least a few quiet nights in the tent (even if on a lawn) and some nice mountain views during the day.

in the meantime i've been trying like mad to pick up some italian. language, that is (mom, get your mind out of the gutter!). wanting to get my head into croatian mode before my class next month, but wanting to learn some more italian too, i've bought a little croatian phrasebook for italian speakers. the idea being that if i don't know a word in one language i can figure it out in the other, and take english out of the equation as much as possible so my mind starts working in italian & croatian. this is either going to work like magic, or i'm going to be totally confused soon!!

arrivederci and do videnja for now...

so not in city mode

well i have made it back to bangkok and i'm sorry to say my high hopes for another ghetto bus ride were slightly deflated. i guess that's what i get for booking the cheap "vip" bus instead of the expensive one. had a very twitchy guy sitting next to me & had to escape into some tunes so as not to pick up all that nervous energy. some dude passenger tried to fix a falling-apart light on the bus when we were leaving, & shorted out all the bus lights. that was about the most eventful part of the trip... until they fixed the short.

 

saw a different side of bangkok on this approach, a huge well-to-do cosmopolitan sort of place. staying in a fancier part of town than before, and my goodness if it isn't a big city, complete with sterile shopping malls and expensive food. i almost gasped when i saw 100-baht meals, till i realized that's still only about $3 and i'm getting really spoiled.

 

i guess this is a good way to break myself into big city life again. it feels kind of like when you come out of the mountains after a couple of weeks, except that i've been around people & traffic the whole time. expecting milan to be quite a zoo (have i ever mentioned that i'm NOT a city person...) but i've got about a month to fool around in italy. thinking about getting lost in the alps... dolomites... or maybe on the coast??

 

i've got a couple of days left in bangkok & get to catch up with the mr's davis one more time, but i'm already very aware that my asian adventure is winding down for now... and i am very sad about the thought of leaving.

 

have to do some re-packing and get rid of (more) stuff from my huuuuge pack, half of which i left here in bangkok for the last few weeks, and then my big project is finding out the best way to ditch the hoards crowds in peak tourist season once i get to italy. the tent is calling.... and fresh air.... and quiet.

so here's what happens

when you spend too much time by yourself, and you've gone through all the necessary quiet time and space, and listened to all your music, and contemplated all your life issues, and everyone else's, and solved all the world's problems if only everyone would just try, and questioned the meaning of the universe and reorganized your mental list of all your favorite stuff in the world....

 

suddenly one night when you should be sleeping, you find yourself asking an important question with no one to answer.

 

once upon a time i lived in a house with a tv. and on that tv we had mtv. this was a long, long time ago, like when cave men roamed and they actually played music on "m"tv. i hear they don't do that anymore. but there was this brilliant work of art video by an amazing, truly mystifying and talented gent called Meatloaf. and the song went something like, "i would do anything for love, but i won't do that."

 

so here's my late night ultra-important question:

what is "that"??

 

i mean if the Loaf wouldn't do it, and we're talking about the Loaf...

 

perhaps if we can find the answer to this question we can bring world peace. or find the missing link. or life on another planet. what we need now is some audience participation. i want to know what you think "that" is - i'll start with my guess: change his name.

 

what do you think???

 

if enough people get in on this one, i'll send a surprise from some far-flung place to the person with the best answer. i don't know what the surprise is, but i'll think of something.

 

ok, have at it, super sleuths!!

ele-fun!

there's a dude talking really loud next to me on an internet phone, so if this one comes out scattered it's just my distracted brain...

 

so yesterday caught the tour i mentioned before to see northern hill tribes, including people weaving stuff, ladies with long necks who put rings around them for every year [till 24 - i like the idea of stopping counting at 24], ladies with gigantic earlobes from stretching with earrings.... yeah, totally national geographic... except that of course they were all kind of sitting there when the bus pulled up trying to sell handicrafts & stuff. which isn't so bad, i mean folks gotta make a living. the kids following us up the street with pouty faces were hard to resist. and the ladies walking around in traditional dress, especially in this one village where there was an adorable old gal with a cheeky grin who totally could've been family. all the villages were up little winding roads in the most beautiful lush green hills, some with ultra-basic grass roofing on all the houses, & others a bit more modern - even going so far as high-tech corrugated iron! the first village we stopped at had gov't-funded solar panels at every house, which i thought was awesome. kids watching tv to learn to speak thai. i liked the long-neck village the best though, although it was a bit awkward walking up to people that you know are just sitting there to be stared at, & not even the guide able to talk to them since they don't speak thai (& english limited to "20 baht, 10 baht"). place was gorgeous though, actually reminded me of konavle a bit but without the sea.... which made me think "ahhhh, august is just around the corner..."

 

today i went to the thai elephant conservation center - eeeeeeeee!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (yes, that's me squealing like a little girl). oh my goodness. they're actually kind of intimidating up close, i mean they're huuuuge!! and these are the small kind. oh did i mention in got to pet a little hairy baby elephant? so cute!!!! there's a hospital where they care for their own elephants, & other people's worker elephants for free. they still train their own with logging skills etc, which is what the center was originally set up for, and then have a show to let everyone see, but i think it's a lot more happy-elephant oriented these days. now that i've seen those beautiful elephants, my visit to thailand is complete!

 

not that i have seen nearly everything there is to see here... in fact i just saw an ad for a slow boat to laos and thought, hmmmmm.... that will have to wait for the next trip though. one more day to explore chiang mai, then it is another vip bus (i have high expectations this time. maybe a mirrored ball on the ceiling?) to bangkok...

hi ho, alas, and also lackaday

sometimes adventurous turns into just plain persistent, other times it turns into not-so-adventurous.

 

unable to get help with tickets to chiang mai from cambodia, i booked a ticket to the cambodian border town of poipet (this was as far as they could get me unless i wanted to go the wrong direction, to bangkok). there's something to be said for having no idea where you'll end up in a day or how you'll get there. it was an interesting border crossing, reminded me a bit of tj but with what seemed like a gaping hole where people could just come and go as they pleased, and no clear indication of where the actual border was. i got off the bus at the exit to cambodia, and not wanting to be in thailand without getting checked in, found my way down the road to passport control etc, and then walked into thailand, and kept walking till i found a tuk-tuk driver to get me to "the bus station" - which i asked for with the assumption that there must be a decent one around somewhere. both of the bus station people i talked to said there was no way to go to an intermediary town and catch a bus to chiang mai; it seemed from where i was my only option was to go to bangkok, which as i already mentioned was the wrong direction. but it was either sit there doing nothing or go to bangkok, so...

 

did i mention my day started at about 7am when i was picked up in siem reap for the bus to the border, driven all over town (why does it make me nervous being the only person left on a bus that i know is driving in circles when my connection was supposed to leave 15 mins ago...) and thankfully dropped at the correct bus in time for the few hours' drive to the border. all said and done i got to bangkok around 730pm, about 10 hours south of where i was hoping to be at that time. so the next question was, find a place to stay in the sprawling hub of bangkok, or try to find a night bus and make some progress while sleeping the night away. life is better when you're moving - i chose the second.

 

at the bus station i was found by a great young moto driver, without whom i may have wasted hours at the station. with my pack on the front of his bike and me on the back, he knew exactly where to go, & took me to the ticket office and back to the station in time to catch the 820p bus, driving over curbs, weaving through traffic, squeezing between all the buses pulling in & out of the station... talk about service! even had time to spare for snacks.

 

and THEN - 815p rolled around and i stepped onto the pimpinest - yes i said pimpinest - bus i've ever seen. i guess this is what you get when you book the VIP bus, stewardess and all. let me detail that picture a little. a stout orange-bleached-short-haired, white-overly-made-up-faced, hot-pink-skirt-suit with pink socks and blue slipper sandals, 5-coats-of-lipstick smile to welcome riders into the bus, which had.... wait for it.... stop-sign-red upholstery with primary colored animal print, two-tone pink satin ruffley curtains along the length of the ceiling, huge seats in aforementioned red animally pattern, tvs, stereo speakers, neck pillows in (what else) red plaid with black/green/yellow stripes, and red and blue checked blankets. once we got going, the stewardess brought around a tray full of brightly colored fruity creamy cakes for everyone. then she put that down and brought a tray full of chocolate wafer cookes. then a bunch of cokes. it was like going to vegas. or that island where the bad kids go in pinocchio.

 

watched some of a thai warrior-chick-falls-in-love-with-enemy-captor movie (at least i think that's what was happening) and then pretty much slept through then night. when i awoke the sun was barely up, there was a morning mist in the air, and green jungley hills all around. caught a taxi from the bus station to the driver's assistant's recommended hotel (i like to try places where the taxi people get commission) and was promptly left on the street when i didn't like their stink-hole of a choice. it takes a lot for me to say a room is bad, & this one fit the bill. walked around town for a while and looked at a couple of other places before finding a little out-of-the-way guesthouse down a small lane behind a produce market. this time persistence paid off - a beautiful little room for 150 baht (about $4.50), and like the sign out front said, clean and quiet. got checked in, and after about 25 hours in transit, fell asleep while flipping through maps & guidebook.

 

had to organize some onward tickets today. would you believe orbitz and expedia will not issue e-tickets for bangkok/london and wanted to mail them to me. for crying out loud, what is this 2007 or 1907?? so had to go the travel agent route. oh my goodness i was sooooo clooooose.... the best ticket i found was routed through cairo, and i would have had to spend about 5 days there before going to london. my heart started pounding, the fun receptors in my brain started pumping. egypt!!! so i got online to look at visa requirements etc, and uncharacteristic of my non-planning self actually checked some travel advisories, and let's just say that was a big mistake. i'm sure it would have been fine, but all the reports of people being blown up in tourist areas and attacks on weekends and on westerners and violence over parliamentary elections this week and single women being physically harassed and little kids dying of bird flu and "if you can help it don't go to that part of egypt" [where cairo happens to be found]...

 

i had another ticket on the back burner that i had to decide on within about 1/2 hour (one seat left), and it just wasn't enough time to commit to the egypt plan, so.... i chickened out. was that really lame of me? well my consolation prize is that instead of london i'm flying to milan(!). oh yeah, through qatar. [dad, don't read that part.]

 

but first, there are northern thai hill tribes from burma and tibet and china to meet - did the tourist thing and actually booked a tour through a travel agency for this one. probably could've gotten there myself, but i just pictured walking up to strange people in villages and being like, "uh, hey, what's up" or something. this way i can hang in the back and let all the other farangs have the awkward moments.

 

and then there are elephants to see! still hoping to get to that elephant conservation center. i think i'll do it as a day trip from chiang mai. it's a pretty cool town after all, ok totally touristy... being back in thailand is like hawaii after the last places i've been... but charming nonetheless.

oh, how could i forget...

you know those little geckos that you see in places like hawaii or northern australia? the flesh-colored chattery ones? well they're all over the place here too. but last night, i saw a circus freak of a gecko - just like the other ones, but the size of a rat with a giant tail. he was huuuuuge!!!!!!

 

....and did i mention elephants at angkor (kind of a tourist attraction for rides, but still elephants!).

 

....and did i mention monkeys in the trees too!

and i thought rome was good...

well it looks like i'm getting down to about one entry per country, which means i've got a ton of stuff to catch up on. i think i left you in ho chi minh city, just heading to chau doc. the bus ride (according to the girl who sold me the ticket) should have taken about 3 hours. but with delays and the fact that no buses around here seem to run in a set time ("this journey should be about 3-5 hours") and that everything i read said 6-8 hours, it wasn't really a surprise to get in in the evening instead of early afternoon. fortunately the next day's boat to phnom penh was contrary to the norm, and actually got me there a couple of hours earlier than expected. not to mention i got to travel on a big flat river with a breeze coming through, instead of on a weakly air-conditioned, slow, bumpy bus for twice as long of a trip.

 

i started to like cambodia instantly, crossing the border not long into the journey. busy-ness gave way to rural farm areas and empty green river banks. i was still expecting phnom penh to be your typical crazy asian city, but it was much quieter than what i'd experienced so far, which was a welcome change. met up with ID and his dad, who said this was the busiest place on their trip so far, which told me i'd do well to stick with them for a while. i thought i'd be lucky to catch them for a lunch or two as their schedule sounded pretty busy, but i ended up getting almost a week - and a fun week at that!!

 

got to explore some beautiful countryside areas via motorbikes (with drivers), seeing local farms, a silk weaving village, people making sugar... we met a lot of local people and saw smiling little kids everywhere. this was one of those days i dream of when planning a trip, but i usually don't get being a single chick and not quite adventurous enough to ask a stranger off the street to take me into the middle of nowhere. needless to say, having company was great, especially being around someone who knows the ropes of s.e. asia so well.

 

did i mention the monsoon season is upon us... have been stoked to see some huge lightning storms with thunder galore, and possibly the heaviest, fattest rain i've seen in my life. one night we found ourselves walking down the street knee-deep (thigh-deep for me in a couple of spots) in flood water after 3 hours of heavy rain. how fun is that.

 

after spending some time taking in the city sights of phnom penh, including the spectacular royal palace complete with colorful architecture and ceiling paintings, i was invited to tag along with the guys for a few more days of exploration. i was absolutely loving not having to make plans & just follow someone else around, not to mention familiar faces (who speak my language fluently!) so of course i jumped at the opportunity.

 

we decided to head to siem reap the scenic way, catching a bus to battambang, where we had another countryside motorbike tour - this time visiting a farm where they grow tons of fruit and make rice wine, & gave us samples of both. i just have to say, it's really cool going down the street and hearing little voices everywhere calling "hellooo!!!". sometimes you can't see where they are, it's just a voice from a little house behind some trees. other times they keep calling until you look over and wave. there was one stretch where all the little kids were giving us five, and some of them also yelled "goodbye!" as we passed. i swear i am falling in love with this country, if for nothing else than the little people. and i haven't even gotten to angkor yet.

 

but first, the bamboo train!! our moto drivers said we should take the bamboo train back to town instead of the road, & they could put their bikes on too. curious enough (ID & i had never done it) we of course agreed. so we reach the tracks and they start start setting wheels on the track, followed by a little bamboo platform complete with belt & engine at the back. on went the motorbikes, and then a rug/mat for us to sit on. the track was roughly connected (ouch, ooch!) but i think that would have to be the best train trip i've ever taken. certainly the most interesting train!

 

so the next day was the point of taking this out-of-the-way route, the boat from battambang to siem reap. about 8 hours on the top of a river boat which leaned from one side to the other every time it turned a corner. the river was shallow & winding, the scenery was amazing, and the experience totally worth the spots of burn where we couldn't keep the sun off (my lips are goo!).

 

siem reap is defininitely a town catered to tourists, but compared to tourist towns i've visited in other parts of the world or even used to live in (take byron bay, or laguna beach) it's still pretty darn mellow. and of course, this is the gateway to the renowned and much-anticipated angkor archaeological site. the first day we hired mr lim and his tuk-tuk (motorbike with a trailer) to take us to the biggies - angkor wat, angkor thom and one or two other places. reluctantly parted company with the guys on the next morning as they headed for laos - thanks to both of you for being GREAT company!! - then i went back with mr lim and his moto for another day of exploration. i don't know what to say about this place, but WOW. 1000-year-old buildings of all shapes and sizes, courts and corridors and crumbling bricks, and every inch covered in some sort of carving. i was blown away with the sheer magnitude of this place, an even in two good chunks of days in the park, was barely able to scratch the surface. it is all it's cracked up to be, and way more!

 

after my fill of temples yesterday, i came back to my guesthouse and failed at coaxing myself to make onward travel plans. not only was it a full-on day, but it was reeealllly quiet all of a sudden. guess i'm not 22 any more, i've found that these days i enjoy travelling with other people way more than travelling on my own (says the once fiercely independent, ha). so today was a regrouping and making travel plans and catching all of you up on journal kind of day. i went to a travel agent for help with a ticket to thailand - trying to get to chiang mai in the north - but they could only help me to poipet at the cambodian border (or bangkok, but i want to go the other direction). i know there's a middle ground at the border where you need a tuk-tuk to get to the other side, and i know there are some buses/trains at the other side... going to bangkok anyway. as to what time or where i can stop or connect, or how many days it will take me to get to chiang mai, i really have no idea. suppose i won't know till i get there!!  :-)

 

well i feel like this is a black-and-white entry to describe a full-color week. just can''t find the words right now, except to say that it has been amazing. a monk just walked by the door in his bright-orange monk getup and yellow umbrella. the rains have set in for the afternoon and there's a little breeze coming in the door. and i am once again, as usual, sitting on the edge of the unknown. i've got about a week to get up north, find some elephants (tee hee), get back to bangkok for another day or so with the mr's davis, then i am off to.... i have absolutely no idea!! europe somewhere i suspect. whatever's cheap from bangkok. think i need some serious tent time after this - maybe ireland?? any suggestions??? anyone care to join me??? no seriously.

by the way, that last one was not my fault!

it's totally hereditary i swear.

now i was really trying...

...not to make silly puns in my head with all the foreign words that look just like our words that mean other stuff. there are so many possibilities, but i've made it past the many different signs that said things like 'Hung Long' without so much as a chuckle. but today i believe was the piece de resistance. would you believe what i saw out the bus window, a place called My Dung Cafe.

 

that's right folks!

TILT

Well!! I think we have a lot to catch up on - where did i leave off... Oh yeah, couldn't find out how to (sanely) get to the national park near Bangkok, and I was frustratedly envisioning myself spending 2 full days of trying not to see too much in the city (saving that for ID's visit) and what on earth would I do.... Happily when I woke up in the morning I found enough unforseen motivation to make the 6-or-so hour journey to Ko Samet. Headed for the bus with a slight diversion. Met a Thai brother & sister in town & started talking; they said they were going to their home which was right next to the bus station & I should share their taxi. Normally wouldn't jump in a stranger's car, but had an ok feeling about these two. Anyway we ended up at their house, and really nowhere near the bus station, & they invited me to have drinks & lunch with them & all the family there, and wait for their old mom to get home from the hospital. Unfortunately Thai hospitality was lost on me as I had a long travel day ahead of me and also a sense of caution at being a single foreign gal in strangers' hands. Nice people I'm sure but you just never know.

 

So I got another taxi to the bus station & headed for the pier at Banphe, and caught a boat to the island. Nice place, granted kind of a long trip, but heck, what else did I have to do?! Now just when I thought I had exhausted all the possible experiences of singleness, I went and had a romantic candle-lit dinner on the beach... by myself. Yeah. I was really hungry, and that was about the best option, and anyway when do you get to eat dinner on the sand 15 feet from the lapping water. So it wasn't exactly romantic, but I had a good book and a front-row view of the few stars peeking out over the water. Kids twirling fire on the beach in the evening for the tourists, just classic. Took a walk down some roads through jungley forest the next day & checked out a few beaches. Butterflies everywhere in all kinds & colors!!

 

Oh yes, I think there is an official naptime here! Or at least a nap culture. Saw a bunch of road workers napping in the afternoon too, right on the job site in the middle of the highway. One with a hammock, one with his feet on his table, one curled up in the scoop of his tractor. I don't know, for some reason I really like that idea! Ooh, ooh, saw my first elephant too!! Out the bus window on the side of the highway, a guy was riding him all loaded up with stuff. Must be a farmer 'phant.

 

So back to Bangkok to re-pack for my next morning's flight to Hanoi. Even though I had a few hours of awake time on an island, with the travelling and the relative busy-ness of the place I was still hankering for a break. Not being a city person and all, I wouldn't miss out on experiencing these places, but dang they wear me out!! For some reason (never judge a place by a grey-scale minimalist guidebook map) I thought Hanoi would be that break. Flying in there were views of green farms, with a few colorful buildings popping up here and there. Hope growing. But in reality Hanoi hit me over the head!

 

I grabbed a taxi into town, and it took 3 tries to get him to take me to the place I wanted to stay. He wanted to try a couple of others first where (I safely assume) he would make a nice commission. Of course the meter was running the whole time. Oy vey. So I finally get to the place I picked out, and it was more than I wanted to spend, but I felt like I just had to battle to get there, so I checked in. Nice place, beautiful room & the people were great. Meet "quiet" Hanoi, the place on the map with the nice lake in the middle. Which to me seemed twice as busy and chaotic as Bangkok!! Every corner people asking if you need a ride on motorbike or taxi, ladies trying to sell you stuff everywhere you turn calling out "Madame, MaDAME!!", people staring as if they've never seen the likes of you before. And the best part, the incessant honking. Road rules are interesting here. From what I get, you can basically drive wherever you want to, and everyone has the right of way, as long as they honk at everyone else to get out of the way. So it's a mess of a few cars and a few thousand motorbikes, with some bicycles and mini-buses thrown in for good measure, all honking!! Crossing the street is pretty interesting.

 

So this is the day I officially hit sensory overload. It felt like I had a big $$$ printed on my forehead, and everywhere people trying to get their hands on some. A girl asked me if she could take a photo with me, and I literally was checking my bag afterward to make sure nothing was missing. I hate being so cynical, but it was that kind of day and I wasn't ready for it in any way!

 

Sat down by the lake at sunset (surrounded by busy noisy road, but still an oasis of sort) and met a nice girl named My who talked to me for a while, bought me some green bean ice cream, & asked to meet up the next day. A real sweetheart, & I realized afterward that it had an amazing calming effect just to have a distraction from the chaotic surroundings for an hour or so.

 

Got back to my hotel pretty achey and totally drained though. Throat had been dry and I wound up with a full blown cold or something (maybe a hot, in this climate). The next day the only thing that coaxed me out of my room was the need to get OUT of this town, which meant visiting a travel office to book my Halong Bay tour, and also that I promised to try and meet My. I had wanted to check out the water puppet theatre, so we agreed to meet there in the afternoon.

 

I got some business done in the morning, & we (and another friend of hers) met at the theatre. Let me just say if you are ever in Vietnam you HAVE TO see a water puppet show. Maybe it's not for everyone, but I absolutely loved it!! Apparently it's a 1000-year-old tradition. Bright colors, GREAT music, and really fun puppetry. After parting company with the two very lovely girls I took yet another walk around the lake and sat for a while. Today much more pleasant than yesterday; realistic expectations do a world of good. I started to understand that the reason everyone is staring at me is that they're really not used to foreigners here. Totally surprised me given the history of the place, but it's amazing. I had a guy who'd just graduated from university ask if he could take a photo of his grandma with me - she was visiting from the countryside for his graduation, & he said she'd never seen a foreigner before. Then another photo with grandma & dad, and we all talked for a while (the graduate interpreting). After they left someone else came up to talk, then a few others, mainly students wanting to practice their english. Must have spent about 3 hours just chatting with strangers. Other people just kind of looking, maybe smiling when they walked by. Little kids yelling "Hello" in their best accent when they see you walking down the street. It's absolutely endearing. And amazing. And even though the place has been impacted by tourists enough to equate us with money, it's not enough to make us commonplace. I'm really starting to dig this country.

 

Ok, still needed to get out of the city though! So I booked myself on a 2-day 1-night Halong Bay tour. Scenic karst kind of formations (I think that's what they're called) - thousands upon thousands of islands just like you would picture. Got to sleep on the boat, absolutely gorgeous. Lightning storms over the water at night. And even better than sleeping on a boat... waking up on one!! Just what the doctor ordered. Will let the photos give a better description when I send them.

 

So one more night in Hanoi, absolutely loving these people (most of them anyway) but also ready to move on. Flew to Ho Chi Minh City this morning with the intention of going straight on to Chau Doc. But when I saw it out the plane window and then was trying to plan my next move at the airport I thought, Hey, I can't go to Saigon and not see it!! So here I am. Bigger city than what I saw in Hanoi. Taller buildings, newer & cleaner looking, some fancier shops, and wider streets - which means thousands more motorbikes to navigate through!! On to Chau Doc tomorrow for my last night in Vietnam, then boat to Phnom Penh the next day to catch up with Isaac. Welcome to Asia, traveller!! Can't wait to see ya...

 

Hope everyone's well at home. Thanks for your emails, I love reading them!!!  m

 

 

Should we make believe you remember me from a holiday delayed by a storm...

[Ok I admit it, Architecture in Helsinki is slowly winning me over...]

 

First of all, thanks Scotty for putting my pics up! And thanks Merce for the insight on frangipani! So I guess as long as Catholic cardinals and Mozambican novels don't dress up like flowering trees, we can call 'em plumerias!

 

Ok, so yesterday was lots of fun. I took ID's advice and caught the Chao Phraya River Express boat, then connected with the Skytrain (a bit indirect but really interesting scenery... and I'd take a boat over a bus any day), and ended up at the huge, no let me reiterate - GIGANTIC Chatuchak weekend market. Thousands of stalls of people selling... Stuff. All kinds of stuff. Manufactured stuff, local stuff, food galore, camouflage stuff, used stuff, old statues & religious stuff... if it's stuff, you can probably find it there. So I walked around and around and around looking at all the stuff. (And more stuff.) I would have been lost, except that I didn't have a destination. So I wandered around in circles and chose my direction at each intersection by which way looked the most intriguing. Sometimes it was paper lanterns or strings of fairy lights, sometimes it was the darkest smokiest lane with old men smoking next to antiques. Once I got stuck just listening to a whole booth full of wind chimes (how can you not love wind chimes!). Sometimes it smelled like a pet store, other times it smelled like incense. There was music coming out of many of the stalls, sometimes traditional stuff or more often poppy stuff. But then there was the one row I walked down where I heard one playing Zeppelin, another playing Cake, and yet another with Frampton. I wonder when they wrote those songs if they pictured them playing in this kind of place!

 

I have to say, being in a part of town where there's stuff being sold everywhere, and then going to a gigantic market full of stuff, really makes me want to give everything away so I don't have to look at stuff any more. (Okay you got me, I already wanted to do that!) Was fun wandering around though. I was looking for something to eat, but most of the things looked suspiciously animally, then I saw these green fried-looking cubes in a tray. When I asked the guy what they were, he said, 'Begetable' - so I said, perfect, I'll take it! He put some chili sauce (or something) on it, & it was delicious! What else... oh, I had to see the pet section, even though it was pretty depressing. The puppies looked ok - I think they must have special brushes to make them look extra fluffy - & some had hair clips & fancy collars. There were some un-amused kittens too. I'm not sure why there are so many animals for sale when the streets are packed with strays. But Anyway... Then there were hamsters, guinea pigs and squirrels. And THEN, there were (poor things) squirrels wearing knit hats. You should have seen the looks on their faces, ears down flat, very unhappy! The old lady selling them had signs all over saying "no photos/video", & I was wondering if this was because of too many tourists, or too many animal rights people. But I'm not going there... :-)

 

It was the cutest thing, at some point in the afternoon, a bunch of the ladies working the stalls started falling asleep. There were so many that I almost wondered if they had a set nap time. They'd just be snoozing in their chairs, feet up, or with an arm draped over a display. It was real evidence of the laid-back feeling, even in such a busy place; it was easy to keep a mellow atmosphere. With the warmth, the rain, the loud thunderstorm, it was a pretty fun day for hanging out.

 

Let's see, back on the Skytrain, back on the boat, back to my happenin' digs. I've decided I'm in a pretty good spot right now. Too tired to think of dinner, I snacked on my cashews-covered-in-something-and-sesame-seeds, and my little-dried-fish-peas-and-chilis-covered-in-something-and-sesame-seeds that I got at the market. Mmmmm...

 

Well I've been told that I shouldn't just let you know what I've already done, but I should let you know what's coming too. This could be tricky, as I don't even know what I'm doing from one day to the next! Take tomorrow for instance... absolutely no clue!! I'm trying to get to a national park, but I don't know how to get there, and the two travel agts I've asked have no idea either. I do have plans in a couple of days though, to fly to Hanoi (!!!). Blew it on planning, the thing I am worst at, so instead of leaving tomorrow I have to wait 2 days for a visa. All the same, I'm hoping to spend a couple of days in Hanoi and look into a boat tour at Halon Bay. Then possibly a few days at Chau Doc before I hopefully catch a boat to Cambodia. Need to be in Phnom Penh on the 13th, for the part of the trip I'm most excited about!  :-)

 

Anyway, who knows what tomorrow actually holds... the best laid plans of mice & men, & all that jazz. More on the future when it happens. I could be like a reverse fortune teller. "You have been very successful." "You had good fortune last year." "My sources say you should have been more careful with that."

 

Hey, maybe I just found my calling...

whoa nellie!

so i've been remembering when i'm not at a computer all the things i'm supposed to write when i am at a computer. usually i remember them when my pen is out of reach, or i don't have any paper to write on. then when i do have pen & paper, i can remember only two of the things i've been forgetting to write over the last week, & remembering when there's no way to write them. am i getting repetitive?

ok, thing #1. i forgot to say, RAAAARRR!! that was going to be the title to my entry after mom & i were scared by wild animals in mataranka. it was our first night in croc country. we were walking over to the loo together, looking carefully in all directions and especially toward the river, when something roared at us out of the dark! of course it was not a saltie, but a big wild pig! as mom was trembling at my side (holding my hand actually - sorry mom, it's too funny to leave out!) i forced her to brave the dark till i could find the culprit in the beam of my Spot (that is, my awesome little black diamond headlamp. with six, count 'em six, brightnesses, and two different flashers! ok i am way off track and i'm not even looking for a job or sponsor.) SO... oh yeah, was shining the light around half expecting to see glarey croc eyes, when two big black lumps ambled past in piggy silhouette. punks.

 

thing #2. does anyone know if plumeria and frangipani are the same thing? & if not, what's the difference? (yes, i do expect an answer by the way - these computers work both ways, and i like reading your writing better than my own!)

 

speaking of which, i ought to stop rambling and start writing. (warning, that was just the intro!)

 

my head's a little goofy cuz i haven't really slept in the last 2 days. ok i slept a little, tiny naps on planes, with neck folded over and pretty seriously cramped, if you can call that sleep! thing is, the darwin airport is a 24-hour dealio, and every airline takes advantage of that to let po' travellin' folk catch flights at 3 in the morning! so yesterday was a nice long mellow day in darwin, getting a few things done but mostly just enjoying the place before it was time to go. i spent another sunset at mindil beach which was beautiful as always - did i tell you that the sun is so fat and orange when it goes down that it looks like a pumpkin? did i tell you that dolphins were fishing the other day right in front of me (or trying not to get et themselves - i just saw fins thrashing around)... or that there are tracks from hermit crabs all over the beach? i was trying to 'rescue' one the other day, that seemed to be too far from the water, and when i picked him up he ran right out of his shell. like a little crustacean joseph running out of his robe. cracked me up!

 

anyhoo, sunset... beautiful... discovered that when it is a full moon in the north, it's a full moon down south too. only difference is the light moves the opposite direction.

 

oh, thing #3!! i just remembered. this water draining thing. i'm really not buying that the coriolis effect could have any impact on small bits of water like sinks & toilets. i saw an australian drain the other day go clockwise. so my question of course is, which one of you in the northern hemisphere is going to do some drain tests and settle this thing once and for all? and i don't mean a one-time 'yeah, that looked counter-clockwise to me'. it's gotta be scientific! you get extra credit if you put food coloring in the water first too.

 

so i didn't take a nap cuz i was enjoying darwin too much, and i ended up (of course) packing at the last minute. although - wait, i know what you're thinking - i was NOT late for the bus!! i was early. i hated it. i just sat there waiting for the bus, for like 20 minutes. at least when you're late for stuff you don't get bored waiting.

 

so the bus was at 1230 (midnight) and took waaaay too long to get to the airport, like an hour. and then i checked in and was soon on my way to singapore. sat there for about 3 hours before check-in (not quite enough time to venture out into the city, cool airport though).
then not too long till i was on my way to bangkok. hey, did i mention yet that i'm in bangkok?!!!!

 

got here in the afternoon, and with a list of possible places to stay, stumbled onto one which was not on my list, but i had read about before. so i checked in to a basic room with fan. there's a shared toilet with a spray nozzle thingy next to it - i think an upgrade from the traditional bowl of water - and then one higher on the wall to be used as a shower. i guess the whole 9-sq-feet of room just gets wet, & drains through a hole in the back corner of the floor. at least there's a toilet so you're not standing in it. hey, i'm just thrilled to have a bedroom to myself instead of sharing with a bunch of chatty european chicks!

 

i thought it would be a little overwhelming wandering back out the door, but it was actually really mellow considering all the chaos in the street. Between trying to take half of it in, and thinking it was a little touristy here in this backpacker-hub of Bangkok, I had a couple of whoa-moments, where all the sights & sounds & smells came together and for an instant it occurred to me, "WHOA, I'm in Thailand!!" This could be the most foreign place I've ever been. The only thing I can compare it to is San Jose CR, but on steroids. And a lot safer feeling.

 

I'm in Khao San, which is a sort of tourist magnet, streets and alleyways literally lined solid with people selling clothes, food or other stuff. People cooking out on the street (DE-licious Thai food smells wafting around!). There's music everywhere, not just canned, but people playing. Playing well, too. Live music pouring out of pubs, some combo playing in the middle of the street, kids playing guitars & singing in the park, it's just everywhere.

 

I caught myself almost saying aloud a couple of times, "Look at those friggin' buses!!" Ok, I get a little excited when I see new stuff. These are all stubby, and painted solid green. Really cool looking. People walking down the middle of the street with stalls on the sides, motor bikes and taxis and tuk tuks and the occasional bicycle taxi (with fairy lights!) rolling right through all the bodies. Just like you'd imagine it.

 

Now I am convinced that if ever you could put heaven in a cup, it would taste like mango juice. My goodness, that could possibly be the BEST tasting thing I've ever experienced in 30 years on this funny little planet. And then there was the curry. I was thinking of Arlo's & my 150-something trip ideas in days of yore. One of them was having Thai food in Thailand. I'm sorry you couldn't be here with me (really you've got way better things happening where you are!) but Thai food in Thailand totally rocks!!

 

Oops, I'm almost out of time on the computer. You've probably got other things you should be doing now anyway!! Adios for now!!

goin' troppo

Well!! Mum & I arrived safely in Darwin after - would you believe it - 4593 kilometers in a campervan from Adelaide up to the Top End. I drove the whole way, since it was a manual, & really think that's more than I've driven in the last 5 years combined!! We dropped off the van yesterday, & though it was a bit sad, I'm relieved to be a pedestrian again!!

 

What an amazing trip - I would highly recommend it! There was tons more vegetation than I remembered in the Red Centre and really the whole way up. I think it was a pretty good rain year up this way, so the plants have been doing lots better than my last visits a few years ago.

 

I can't even start to think of trip highlights or I'll be here all day... but of course you must hear me rave about Kakadu!!! (Or should I say 'deja-vu' for some of you.) The place is just as magical as ever, full of life. My mom was a real trooper, even though she didn't like all the little crawlies and big bities. The mozzies and heat gave me good incentive not to sleep in the campervan for the last few nights, so I set up my little tent - just the mesh part, no fly  - and enjoyed some nights of warm breezes and beastie noises. The first night it was a bit hard to get to sleep just thinking about 'what ifs', being in croc country & all, but I enjoyed the tent so much there was no going back! Had a visit from a fat little (actually kind of big) froggy one night, and was often waking to the sound of bat wings just above my tent. I was like mosquito bait, being relatively in the open but unreachable through the mesh, so I think it was like a buffet for the bats!

 

What else... spent some time up top of Ubirr rock, and walking around the aboriginal rock art sites below, and I have to say they are just as amazing as the first time I saw them when I was 22. It's been my favorite spot for a long time, and still is - I think I'll always go back there.

 

Of course it is a big world, and being way too comfortable with the land of Oz, it kind of feels like my real 'travels' haven't begun yet... Should be on my way to SE Asia in a few short days (if I can still get a ticket!). Who knows, maybe there will be a million typos in my next post cuz I'll be using a funky keyboard!!

12 minutes to go

let's see if i can do a better post this time on a quickie library computer. so much has been happening! mom arrived in melbourne a couple of weeks ago, & we spent a few days there & caught up with a good friend before catching a train to adelaide, where we picked up a campervan and started driving north!!

 

interesting stops -

 

camping at newland head at the bottom of south oz, where an evening stroll led to a mob of kangaroos, and echidna and a beautiful sunset. went to the nearby beach for a quick morning walk. it amazes me how purple and yellow can blend into one sunset color, and how jade water and rusty sand can mix so seamlessly into one moving wave.

 

caught up with some friends for conversation, beautiful tomato-pumpkin soup and some travel advice before hitting the road again. a couple of middle-of-nowhere stops, and a few days later we were in the ever-bizarre coober pedy. what a place! then eventually up to uluru-kata tjuta national park, home of the world-famous uluru (ayers rock) and the not-so-famous-but-really-should-be kata tjuta (olgas). truly amazing special places. well we were back on the road in what seemed like no time, and now have found ourselves in alice springs. oh, i can't forget mom looking out the window and saying, "i could be wrong, but i think i just saw an echidna the size of a motorhome sitting in a shed." we turned around and went back to investigate, and would you believe it, an echidna the size of a motorhome sitting in a shed! there was also a gigantic frill-necked lizard. couldn't quite figure out what they were made of, some conglomeration of wood, paper mache and wool, with other bits and pieces. yes, there's lots of gigantic Stuff around here.

 

so now we're in the alice and catching up on some business. the campervan is treating us well, a nice little home on the road! love to everyone, will update when i've got more time and patience to elaborate. hours upon hours of driving have stolen my brain power!!

 

love & big hugs to everyone...

forget my foolish heart...

...it's the brain i'm worried about!

 

i guess that's what i get for trying to update a couple of weeks' worth of thoughts on a 15-minute express library computer. i forgot the most important thing of all, it RAINED!!!!!!! now for anyone that doesn't live in south austraila, you are probably thinking "what's she on about?" - no wait, it would sound more like "what is she so excited about?" (had to put the american thinking cap back on). yes the drought has been severe, beautiful trees dying everywhere, not to mention previously talked-about critters in various states of woe... plus people saving every drop they could get their hands on, using, re-using and even re-re-using so as not to run out of water. so when friends T & G went to the mainland & i was left to puppy-sit, after the list of things not to forget and where to find stuff in the house, i was told that my only real job was to make it rain. tall order, i know! fortunately i've got friends in high places, ha ha. thought i'd better start praying for rain. and wouldn't you know it, they day they got back to the island, so did the rain!! a good soaking one, i think it lasted a solid 24 hours, then carried on pretty consistently for the next couple of days. what a beautiful sound on the roof, & to see tanks actually overflowing and dams filling, water flowing in the thirsty streets...

 

ooh, now i'm getting thirsty!

 

speaking of killer umbrellas.... so today it's dry and warm, and there's this sweet wind blowing. (not so much 'awww, how sweet' as 'schweeet!') standing at a busy corner a bunch of  chairs from this sidewalk cafe started blowing into the street. once we recovered those and some cars got by, suddenly the huge cafe umbrellas, complete with metal bases, started skidding out into the street - one went clear across, it's amazing nobody got hit, the thing was flying! and you thought the snakes, spiders and crocs were bad. whoa, sidewalk furniture, watch out!!

 

all in a day's work here, in the lovely town of adelaide.

 

what else... did everyone back home know that that early '90s kiddie band silverchair is still around? except they're all grown up now and apparently they've been at the top of the charts here like forever. i think their latest song (called "straight line" i believe) is going to be my most-remembered for this part of the trip, because it's playing absolutely everywhere i go. there's one for every trip. pretty cool song actually, i kind of wish there were more than 2 parts to it, but i have to say i'm impressed that those little heart-felt grunge-rockers are still at it.

 

ha ha, you thought you were getting a travel log, not a music commentary! april fools. oh wait, it's may now. mayday, mayday! 10-4, over 'n' out... 

notes du jour

well i have made my way back to the big smoke, after just over a month on kangaroo island... and of course i'm missing it already!

 

what have i been up to the last couple of weeks? let's see... puppy sitting for some friends' middle-aged blue heeler and weeks-old red heeler pup (ooooh!). a few more beach walks, a few more dolphins, looking for (but not finding) platypus, sitting in on a friend's band practice a couple of times. speaking of which, i forgot to mention the highly entertaining impromptu singing contest some kids came up with at some friends' bbq. they were so excited till it was time to sing (for a whopping 5 of us), & then got really shy all of a sudden.

 

what else, caught up with some of my favorite girls yesterday in adelaide, fun times, & i think i'm all talked out! even went to puppy school yesterday. never seen one of those before, all kinds of people & all kinds of dogs running around a big school field. mom would be jealous, dogs everywhere!

 

have been massively enjoying some tunes that my bro sent my way. thanks griz!!!!

 

i think i've planned a few too many days in adelaide. a great city indeed, but still a city. will be on my way in another 2 days though, meeting up with 'mum' for a month on the road! yahoo!

 

i thought i had some interesting stuff to write about, but alas i must have been mistaken!! thanks for reading yet another ramble.

 

adios for now!

 

 

lets me forgets

i wish i had my camera with me the other day. i stopped at the sheep dairy with two of my favorite munchkins, the wickham kids, to pick up a few things. it was the most gorgeous thing ever - they went in with 2 other kids to feed the baby lambs (oooh!!), the sun was setting, kids & lambies everywhere, it was like a kodak moment without the cheese. actually we did pick up some sheep cheese, come to think of it.

weather has been cooling down. i spent a couple of nights out at stokes bay on the north coast, had some up-close wildlife encounters. i practically tripped on a koala going for a walk one evening, & the day i left, a poor ailing wallaby parked himself right behind my tent for some tlc. normally i'm not a fan of humans taming wildies, but he was so sick he could hardly move. so i gave him some water & apples, & he started to cheer up a bit. sat with him a while before i had to go, it's about all i could do... who knows what will happen. they're dropping like flies, with the drought & shortage of food this year.

i finally broke in my not-so-new-anymore rock shoes out at stokes bay, and my way-too-wimpy hands, which got nice & torn up playing around on some beach boulders. great stuff for friction, not so good for comfort!

there are the most beautiful galahs outside the window as i type. for those who haven't seen one you should look it up online. they're grey and pink, and they make sounds like x-wings shooting stuff in star wars (all laser-y).

i'm trying to send all my trip memories to you guys instead of writing them in a journal. after losing the journal for a while, i decided it probably was not the healthiest thing to keep all of my thoughts & feelings locked up on paper instead of just talking to people..... so... i'll try to remember everything i want to tell you, and you guys get to help me remember this trip!!

cheerios...

(speaking of cheerios, hi to the magees and baby lily! thinking about you lots!)

Pictures!

Hey everybody...
i got the first round of pics Mitch sent our way posted!
Follow the link at the bottom of the page to Mitch's Trip Gallery...
Hopefully we get more soon! Enjoy...

rainbow days

Wow, have I mentioned dolphins lately... They are everywhere! At Penington Bay the other day with a friend, we watched from the top of the bluff as a pod of dolphins approached two surfers, and started surfing with them! - literally surrounding them, & swimming right next to or even under them when they'd catch a wave. I don't think I've seen so many jumping, playing, fishing, surfing dolphins in my whole life till this visit (and believe me, I've looked!).

 

I went to Flour Cask Bay yesterday, a spectacular beach with not another soul on it. No sooner did I get there than 3 ospreys flew overhead, & later a big wedge-tailed eagle. I was picking up all kinds & colors of shells on the beach (even a chiton shell with the most amazing blue inside, never seen anything like it) and bright pink seaweed (why do we call 'em weeds anyway, do they invade mermaids' rose gardens?). As I was thinking about all these incredible colors in one place, the clouds above moved a bit and the sun made a rainbow in the spray coming off of a crashing wave. Does it just keep getting better?!

 

No matter how much time I spend here I'm still amazed at the colors of the birds too. Was watching some finches yesterday, light brown with bright red brows & tails, and some lorikeets with more bright colors than that Chiquita banana lady's fruit hat.

 

Ok I was trying to think of something more poetic there, but this wacky Richardson brain got in my way (it's not my fault, it's genetic!). Oh my goodness, now I'm picturing a cartoon brain hopping around on two legs. Reminds me of that episode of The Tick where Arthur trades bodies with Tongue Tongue, the guy whose body is just a giant tongue... and he gets grossed out because as he's standing there, he can taste the floor! Ha, I'm cracking myself  up now.

 

Better stop while I'm ahead (that was 'ahead', not 'a head'... which is better than a tongue, by the way... uh-oh, somebody stop me before I end up behind!!)...

 

Hasta for now, and remember, you can't fight crime with a macaroni duck!!

lost and found

Well!! I have been informed that other people have been way more diligent about keeping up with my travel page than I have. I did say I couldn't promise anything exciting, right?  :-)

 

How's about a recap of the last couple of silent weeks... I'm still on Kangaroo Island, SA. It looked like autumn was arriving at the same time as me, but the weather has cleared and warmed up again, & we're forecasted for another week of calm, balmy, warm weather. The island of course is beautiful as ever, and one thing that has really struck me this time around is how much LIFE there is here. Sitting by the water's edge where I was camped for a while in American River, I started picking out how many kinds of birds I could see and hear in one spot (which was a heck of a lot!) including huge pelicans, oystercatchers, white-faced herons, ibis (my favorites), superb fairy wrens (with bright blue heads - my other favorites), a few kinds of ducks, magpies, several kinds of gulls & terns, black swans, 2 kinds of cormorants... you get the idea. And then as the sun went down and I started seeing fish jumping out in the water, and little ones swimming around right at the shoreline, there appeared some stingrays pacing back and forth just a few feet from where I was sitting. I've also been watching dolphins & sea lions in the same area.

 

Perhaps I was a little too mystified by my surroundings; one night I accidentally left my bible & journal by the water's edge. I had no idea until the next day, & when I went back to look, they were nowhere to be found. After more than a week, I was sure they were long gone, swept out to sea! But a couple of days ago I received an email from someone who had been visiting the island, who had found them and left them at the general store! Went to get them yesterday and let's just say they've seen better days! The journal was salvageable (great, now anyone who ventured to look inside thinks I'm completely neurotic), but unfortunately the bible was not. Sand all through the salt-water-soaked pages, about 4 times as thick as is was meant to be, cover completely peeled off. So, sadly, off to the recycle bin it went... there was something awkward about throwing it away, but what else could be done! Time for a new start I guess.

 

I've been spending lots of time catching up with good friends, who have all been so welcoming, it's like no time has passed since I lived here 3 years ago. In the midst of it I've been to a staff BBQ of the company I used to work for, on a farm with cows & sheep, on a sailboat, to the local pub/dinner hall where nightlife gets most "colorful", to some beaches and spectacular lookouts, to a realtor for some wishful thinking (heh heh), to a home church service on Easter Sunday, to a beautiful hand-built house some friends are putting the finishing touches on... I've seen some amazing sparkly moonrises over the water, have been greeted by the southern cross every night, have spent lots of time in my little yellow & grey tent, and have enjoyed the hospitality of some great people. No, GREAT people!

 

The other day walking along a favorite beach on the north coast, there were dolphins swimming & doing playful looking dolphin stuff no more than 20 feet from where I was standing. I was so tempted to jump into the water with them, but thought the better of it, & watched as big & little ones jumped out of the water & slapped tails on the surface (do they do this to stun fish??). What else... Have seen tons of wallabies and some huge roos, some rare & beautiful glossy black cockatoos, a koala (only one so far, the drought combined with sterilization efforts, plus the fact I haven't been looking too hard, make them a little harder to see these days), and so far two echidnas. I love those little spiky guys!! The other night in my tent I heard some noisy birds piping up. A familiar sound, it took me a minute to realize, I was hearing penguins! Supposedly they're just starting to return to their burrows from a season at sea. And not shy about it, I'd say!

 

Ok, is this enough of a novel to make up for my slackness?!! Will try to work on that one... maybe even with photos soon! I hope everyone's doing well, wherever you may be! Have been missing everyone a TON!! Still haven't worked out a phone yet, but hopefully soon! Big thanks to everyone I've seen so far... big hugs to the ones who are now far away... and lots of love to all of you!!!!!!!!!

home again, home again...

Made it down to Kangaroo Island on Saturday. Peaceful, beautiful as ever (even if it is desperately dry). Have been catching up with friends, camping out, trying to let the island life seep back into my blood... slowly but surely...

Looks like the itchy feet won again...

Landed safely in Adelaide yesterday morning, thinking of & missing everyone a ton! It's been partially to fully sunny and warm (go figure!), and I've already got a bit of a sunburn from walking between shops downtown. Goodbye Seattle white...

 

More updates when I have some real news...

 

Signed,

One more helpless wanderer

 

 

 

"Is this the life I've chosen? No, I believe it's chosen me."  -anon

there she goes....

Mitch is off again (i guess we all knew we wouldn't get to keep her here in the northwest for long). first stop: Australia, then...? I miss her already.