I'm back at Chicago-O'Hare waiting on my flight to Philly. I swear I spend more time in this airport than the people who work here. The trip over from Dubuque wasn't bad. On time — a little early even.
Dubuque is still Dubuque. Like a lot of other small towns, there's not a lot going on there. But the people are friendly and the weather's been nice. I put a couple more pictures on my Web site.
Next week I'll be in Burr Ridge, Ill. through Wednesday then in New York City for the rest of the week. After that, it sounds like I'm headed to Winter Park, Fla. in early October. I'll keep y'all posted.
Enjoy.
Friday, September 21, 2007
Thursday, September 20, 2007
Dubuque
I know, I know. I promised posts from Dubuque. I have a good reason, but I'll get to that later. For now, I have a few pictures from my last couple Dubuque trips.
Dubuque, IA - Dubuque Regional Airport.
Dubuque, IA - Downtown Scenes, Shot Tower and Old Star Brewery.
Dubuque, IA - The Mississippi River.
So the reason I haven't posted it yet is because I've been busy prepping photos from the SEA trip for public viewing. They're online now at my Web site.
So the reason I haven't posted it yet is because I've been busy prepping photos from the SEA trip for public viewing. They're online now at my Web site.
Sunday, September 16, 2007
ORD
O'Hare isn't the worst airport in the country, though I might have told you different Friday. At the moment, I'm sitting at one of the courtesy charging stations in Terminal 3 plugged in and WiFi'd up, waiting for my flight back to Dubuque. I just finished a pair of char dogs from the Gold Coast in the little food court around the corner. Tasty, but the guy forgot the sport peppers. Life's about as good as it gets in an airport terminal with another hour of layover ahead.
Chicago-style hot dog from Gold Coast Dogs.
Friday, I was returning to Philly from Dubuque. As usual, I started checking airport delays around noon to see what the evening had in store. The FAA site was already showing delays into O'Hare of close to an hour because of the winds. Thankfully, they didn't grow through the day.
At the airport, the board showed delay. The woman behind the American Eagle counter checking me into my flight (she's also half of both the baggage and ground crews) assured me that the flight out would go and wouldn't even be that late departing. They started boarding at the alloted time, but as we loaded up, the pilot came over the loud speaker, "Well folks, the good news is the ground stop has been canceled ... The bad news is traffic is backed up into Chicago. Dubuque's a small town, so we're pretty far down on the priority list." He went on to explain that we were going to be delayed taking off by an hour and a half, but the time was sliding slowly our direction, so we were going to sit in the plane on the runway ready to go at the drop of a hat.
Thankfully, the delay only lasted 50 minutes in the end and we made to ORD in one piece. We had to swing out over the lake and come in from the east to so the little plane could land in the wind. We had a nice, dancing landing — one of those where the plane waves back and forth on the way in and skips around a bit once it hits the ground — but alls well that ends well, right?
And I lucked out, my flight to Philly was delayed just like the flight from DBQ, so I got to experience the full two hours of layover. I think I've spent more time sitting in O'Hare this year than I have at at the office.
I'll try to put up some photos of Dubuque this week. I fully intended to last week, but the first week on the road after the time off left me a little less than energetic in the evenings.
Enjoy.
Friday, I was returning to Philly from Dubuque. As usual, I started checking airport delays around noon to see what the evening had in store. The FAA site was already showing delays into O'Hare of close to an hour because of the winds. Thankfully, they didn't grow through the day.
At the airport, the board showed delay. The woman behind the American Eagle counter checking me into my flight (she's also half of both the baggage and ground crews) assured me that the flight out would go and wouldn't even be that late departing. They started boarding at the alloted time, but as we loaded up, the pilot came over the loud speaker, "Well folks, the good news is the ground stop has been canceled ... The bad news is traffic is backed up into Chicago. Dubuque's a small town, so we're pretty far down on the priority list." He went on to explain that we were going to be delayed taking off by an hour and a half, but the time was sliding slowly our direction, so we were going to sit in the plane on the runway ready to go at the drop of a hat.
Thankfully, the delay only lasted 50 minutes in the end and we made to ORD in one piece. We had to swing out over the lake and come in from the east to so the little plane could land in the wind. We had a nice, dancing landing — one of those where the plane waves back and forth on the way in and skips around a bit once it hits the ground — but alls well that ends well, right?
And I lucked out, my flight to Philly was delayed just like the flight from DBQ, so I got to experience the full two hours of layover. I think I've spent more time sitting in O'Hare this year than I have at at the office.
I'll try to put up some photos of Dubuque this week. I fully intended to last week, but the first week on the road after the time off left me a little less than energetic in the evenings.
Enjoy.
Monday, September 3, 2007
Home again, home again ...
We've made it safely back to Philly. After an awesome breakfast at Roscoe's Chicken and Waffles, we said goodbye to Lucie and Richie and hopped our flight back home. The trip was uneventful, but we did have a bit of a scare in the PHL baggage claim (What, baggage problems at the philly airport? Never ...). They had to shut our carousel down for a while because a bag was caught in the conveyor down below. Of course we assumed it was one of our strappy backpacks gumming up the works. We managed to travel all over Southeast Asia without a baggage hitch, but, you know, it's PHL. Turned out someone else's bag was causing the problems, and after a bit of standing around our bags made it out intact.
We got home to find that Garrett, our renter, left the house significantly cleaner than we left it on the way out. Thank you, Garrett. Unfortunately, it seems our house has developed some sort of wiring issue where the circuit serving most of the upstairs trips its breaker at random intervals, so Meg will get to have fun dealing with that before she starts work next week.
I'm in Philly this week, but head to Dubuque next week for work. There's not much to do in Dubuque, so maybe I'll continue the blog there. Not quite as exotic and exciting as Asia, but it'd keep me entertained. We'll see.
Enjoy.
We got home to find that Garrett, our renter, left the house significantly cleaner than we left it on the way out. Thank you, Garrett. Unfortunately, it seems our house has developed some sort of wiring issue where the circuit serving most of the upstairs trips its breaker at random intervals, so Meg will get to have fun dealing with that before she starts work next week.
I'm in Philly this week, but head to Dubuque next week for work. There's not much to do in Dubuque, so maybe I'll continue the blog there. Not quite as exotic and exciting as Asia, but it'd keep me entertained. We'll see.
Enjoy.
Back in the USA
Eric and I made it back to the States and through customs with no issues tonight. Richie was nice enough to pick us up from LAX, and we are having a lovely (though too short) visit with him and Lucie -- and their fuzzy pooch Brando. We're heading back to Philly tomorrow at noon and should arrive about 8pm...assuming that the travel gods continue giving us good luck. Back to work for Eric on Tuesday...so sad.
Sunday, September 2, 2007
Heading home
We're to the point now where we're counting down the hours until our flight leaves Bangkok for the LA, at which point we'll see if Phuket and Bangkok have served their purposes of easing us back into Western culture.
The Reclining Buddha, Wat Pho.
We spent yesterday seeing the sites of Bangkok. We started with Wat Pho, home of the giant (15m tall and 45m long) reclining Buddha sculpture. The sculpture is beautiful -- the entire thing is plated in gold with mother-of-pearl detailing, including more than 108 scenes from the life of Buddha depicted on the soles of its feet. The wat itself is pretty wonderful as well. The buildings are all blindingly white with gilded roofs of brightly colored tile.
After the wat, we went next door to the Grand Palace complex, a wonder in it's own right. After seeing the Royal Palace in Phnom Penh and the Presidential Mansion in Vientiane, I must say the Thais got it right, managing to go completely over the top in almost every way. There's even a building that's sole purpose is to provide a place for members of the royal family to lay in state.
The Throne Hall of the Thai Royal Palace.
From there, we hiked up to the infamous backpacker haven, Khao San Road. The place was packed with Western tourists and locals trying to sell them things. We had lunch ata decent little restaurant on the road while the bar across the way serenaded us with a driving techno beat.
We ended the day at the Weekend Market, a massive labyrinth of stalls selling just about everything under the sun. Meg found a few dresses and I got some crappy t-shirts.
Today we've been sort of mellow. We took the Skytrain a couple of stops over to visit the consumerist mecca that is Siam Center and the Siam Paragon. Gotta love a mall with an entire floor dedicated to ultra-high-end auto dealers. Now we're just killing some time before we need to hop in a cab to the airport. The next time you hear from us we'll be back in the States. We spend the night in LA before heading back to Philly Monday. Here's to hoping we have a enough time to hit an In-N-Out Burger in LA.
Enjoy.
BTW, Meg added a couple of posts below and I threw some pictures up as well.
We spent yesterday seeing the sites of Bangkok. We started with Wat Pho, home of the giant (15m tall and 45m long) reclining Buddha sculpture. The sculpture is beautiful -- the entire thing is plated in gold with mother-of-pearl detailing, including more than 108 scenes from the life of Buddha depicted on the soles of its feet. The wat itself is pretty wonderful as well. The buildings are all blindingly white with gilded roofs of brightly colored tile.
After the wat, we went next door to the Grand Palace complex, a wonder in it's own right. After seeing the Royal Palace in Phnom Penh and the Presidential Mansion in Vientiane, I must say the Thais got it right, managing to go completely over the top in almost every way. There's even a building that's sole purpose is to provide a place for members of the royal family to lay in state.
From there, we hiked up to the infamous backpacker haven, Khao San Road. The place was packed with Western tourists and locals trying to sell them things. We had lunch ata decent little restaurant on the road while the bar across the way serenaded us with a driving techno beat.
We ended the day at the Weekend Market, a massive labyrinth of stalls selling just about everything under the sun. Meg found a few dresses and I got some crappy t-shirts.
Today we've been sort of mellow. We took the Skytrain a couple of stops over to visit the consumerist mecca that is Siam Center and the Siam Paragon. Gotta love a mall with an entire floor dedicated to ultra-high-end auto dealers. Now we're just killing some time before we need to hop in a cab to the airport. The next time you hear from us we'll be back in the States. We spend the night in LA before heading back to Philly Monday. Here's to hoping we have a enough time to hit an In-N-Out Burger in LA.
Enjoy.
BTW, Meg added a couple of posts below and I threw some pictures up as well.
Egg-plosion
In my continuing quest to convince everyone in my near vicinity that Americans really are crazy, I made a giant mess at breakfast yesterday morning.
Let me preface this story by saying that since we arrived in SEA I have been on an unsuccessful quest to locate the perfect soft-boiled egg. Other times I have been here, I ate many lovely soft-boiled eggs, but this time, such eggs have been elusive. I have found fried eggs, omelettes, and scrambled eggs -- and even the occasional hard-boiled egg...but alas, no soft-boiled eggs to sop up with toast.
Thus, when I opened the menu at the Atlanta Hotel and saw "boiled eggs" under the breakfast options, I jumped with glee. I was certain that the Atlanta could deliver my fabulous eggs! I carefully ordered two eggs -- specifying repeatedly that they should be soft-boiled, not hard-boiled. And out they came -- two shining globes in metal eggcups patiently awaiting my toast.
And that's where the problem arose. I had no spoon, and I wasn't sure the proper protocol for opening an egg sitting casually in an egg cup. In Laos, I always peeled the whole egg and dropped it into a baguette. At home, I smush the eggs in a bowl.
I tapped on the top of the first egg with my knife. It refused to give. I tapped on it with my fork. No luck. So I decided to do what I would do at home and peel the whole egg. Fine idea -- poor execution. I tapped the egg a little too hard on my plate and crushed it, sending runny yolk shooting all over my plate and my hand just as the waitress walked past and the French ladies at the next table glanced my way.
The waitress dashed to our table and told me to wait for a spoon. By now most of the restaurant patrons were staring unabashedly at me.
The waitress then returned with a spoon, replaced the crushed egg in its eggcup and proceeded to remove the top herself...and give me a long explanation on eating soft-boiled eggs...most of which I knew, but none of which I could ignore at that point. As if all of this wasn't embarrassing enough, once I finished my first egg and picked up the spoon to break into the second one, over dashed the waitress again. She took the spoon for me and opened the top of the egg, all the while muttering about me being her "baby." Oh dear... I'm surprised she didn't feed me every bite of the darn egg.
So today I order muesli. I'll eat eggs at home in the future. The cats don't mind when I make a mess.
Let me preface this story by saying that since we arrived in SEA I have been on an unsuccessful quest to locate the perfect soft-boiled egg. Other times I have been here, I ate many lovely soft-boiled eggs, but this time, such eggs have been elusive. I have found fried eggs, omelettes, and scrambled eggs -- and even the occasional hard-boiled egg...but alas, no soft-boiled eggs to sop up with toast.
Thus, when I opened the menu at the Atlanta Hotel and saw "boiled eggs" under the breakfast options, I jumped with glee. I was certain that the Atlanta could deliver my fabulous eggs! I carefully ordered two eggs -- specifying repeatedly that they should be soft-boiled, not hard-boiled. And out they came -- two shining globes in metal eggcups patiently awaiting my toast.
And that's where the problem arose. I had no spoon, and I wasn't sure the proper protocol for opening an egg sitting casually in an egg cup. In Laos, I always peeled the whole egg and dropped it into a baguette. At home, I smush the eggs in a bowl.
I tapped on the top of the first egg with my knife. It refused to give. I tapped on it with my fork. No luck. So I decided to do what I would do at home and peel the whole egg. Fine idea -- poor execution. I tapped the egg a little too hard on my plate and crushed it, sending runny yolk shooting all over my plate and my hand just as the waitress walked past and the French ladies at the next table glanced my way.
The waitress dashed to our table and told me to wait for a spoon. By now most of the restaurant patrons were staring unabashedly at me.
The waitress then returned with a spoon, replaced the crushed egg in its eggcup and proceeded to remove the top herself...and give me a long explanation on eating soft-boiled eggs...most of which I knew, but none of which I could ignore at that point. As if all of this wasn't embarrassing enough, once I finished my first egg and picked up the spoon to break into the second one, over dashed the waitress again. She took the spoon for me and opened the top of the egg, all the while muttering about me being her "baby." Oh dear... I'm surprised she didn't feed me every bite of the darn egg.
So today I order muesli. I'll eat eggs at home in the future. The cats don't mind when I make a mess.
Then Eric got punched by a ladyboy...
First off, I must admit that all of this was my idea, not Eric's. Anyone who knows me knows that I am always a little too inclined to do things "for the story" (ask Kathryn about our visit to Patpong if you're in doubt about that one). So "for the story" I decided that Eric and I really should go to a ladyboy cabaret on Phuket -- and conveniently enough, in the packet of tourist information I collected at the airport, there was an ad for "Katoys R Us" -- a cabaret in Patong Beach with nightly shows starting at 9:30.
For those of you who haven't had the pleasure of visiting Phuket, let me just say that it's tourist hell -- and Patong Beach is sex tourist hell. Yep, go-go bars and ping-pong shows from one end of the main drag to the other (with some random tailors mixed in here and there -- oddly enough -- and a variety of chain restaurants near the beach ... yippee for Starbucks and strippers all in one local!). There are ladyboys prancing about ready to hop into your photos, and men carrying iguanas and monkeys about for the same reason. (And here & there are families wandering wide-eyed about with their children -- some people really ought not procreate...but I digress)
Back to the point...
Soi Eric in TH Bangla, Patong Beach, Phuket.
Eric and I wandered around in Patong Beach for a bit looking at the generalized nastiness and wondering what is becoming of the world. I got a good picture of Soi Eric (Eric Street), a side lane lined on both sides with go-go bars, and Eric took a photo of me in front of a for sale sign hanging on one of the bars (who needs to be a lawyer when you can run off to manage your very own go-go bar?!).
Finally 9:20 rolled around, and we headed to the show. Well, we headed to the bar -- which was completely empty of patrons, but full of ladyboys. As soon as we peaked inside, out came a gaggle of ladyboys to drag us to the nearest table and explain that the show would be starting soon. Eric and I ordered beers since one needs liquor for these sorts of excursions. And two lovely ladyboys joined us at our table. You guessed it -- like trashy strip clubs in the US, the show might be free at the cabaret, but you're supposed to buy the ladies drinks in exchange for their company. We probably could have sent them away, but when you're the only patron, you feel at least a little obligation to help pay the ladies' salaries. As a result, we had two ladyboys join our party.
Meg and the (lady)boys.
About then an older Australian man and his wife entered the bar. The man looked like a jolly, non-winking, Aussie version of Popeye. His wife looked, well, wifely (grandmotherly, even) and less than amused by the situation. They plopped down at the table beside ours, and before I could say "boo," there were four ladyboys swarming around them. I think that they too decided that two was enough and sent the others away to dance on the bar and frolic outside.
All the while there were ladyboys dancing on poles in the middle of the room and shedding clothing in the bar window. (Apparently one of the less clothed ones kept making very obscene gestures at Eric every time I turned my back) The ladyboys at our table decided that what would liven up the place was some audience participation...unfortunately that translated into "Meg" participation. Yep, men don't get to participate, and there was no way in hell anyone was getting the grandmotherly Australian to do anything more than control her anger long enough not to kill her husband in public. Go figure that this was one of the occasions in life when being drunk would have assisted, and when I wasn't. Bother.
An investment opportunity.
Thus sober me was dragged onto the bar to dance and pose with the ladyboys. That lasted all of five minutes before I decided that I had participated more than enough. Eric got a good laugh off that one!
Thankfully the cabaret was finally ready to start, so I was left alone for a bit. Poor Katoys R Us! It's a bit low-rent, I must admit -- nothing like Christie's on Samui. The costumes didn't quite fit, and about half of the backup dancers looked anything but excited.
I do believe the highlight of the show was a fat drag queen who belly danced to Hava Negila. Yes, I am well aware of the many, many things wrong with that performance. Let's see -- ere, there are a million middle easterners wandering the streets of Phuket, and I really doubt they would be happy to see a tranny belly dancing. Then there's the issue with the song being a JEWISH folk song, not a belly dancing fave. Then there's the problem in general with short, fat, somewhat hairy men belly dancing in public arenas ... But hey, it was funny in that sad, inappropriate way.
There were several other performances that were more, ere, traditional and thus more appropriately enjoyable (if anything at a ladyboy cabaret can really be defined as "appropriate"). Lucky me was again dragged into the spotlight after the Australian wife angrily refused to dance with the first "singer." And again my participation lasted exactly as long as it took for me to politely escape back to my bar stool.
While the show as going on, some of the other ladyboys were wandering around the bar. The world's foremost ladyboy body builder (imagine a stocky, ripped man with large fake boobies) came over and began punching said bosoms with great force for some reason (I kept wanting to issue a warning about the dangers of exploding implants -- just ask one of those WWE lady wrestlers) -- but couldn't find the appropriate words. The little body builder was hassling the Australian -- and may have punched him in the arm -- I'm not sure what was going on. Then it was our turn. The ladyboy came to our table with some little packages of damp towels (which they had in large supply at the bar for some reason). She handed one to me, then turned to Eric and punched him right in the chest with the other one -- it exploded with a great boom, and Eric nearly fell off his stool. Odd really. (I'm not sure that was necessary in the name of damp towelettes, but hey, I'm not sure any of this was really necessary in the traditional sense of the word.)
About the time I was thinking I was ready to flee the scene (but wondering how to duck out when we were two of four in the audience), the show ended. We snapped a couple more pictures then ran from Patong Beach. Oh my...
For those of you who haven't had the pleasure of visiting Phuket, let me just say that it's tourist hell -- and Patong Beach is sex tourist hell. Yep, go-go bars and ping-pong shows from one end of the main drag to the other (with some random tailors mixed in here and there -- oddly enough -- and a variety of chain restaurants near the beach ... yippee for Starbucks and strippers all in one local!). There are ladyboys prancing about ready to hop into your photos, and men carrying iguanas and monkeys about for the same reason. (And here & there are families wandering wide-eyed about with their children -- some people really ought not procreate...but I digress)
Back to the point...
Eric and I wandered around in Patong Beach for a bit looking at the generalized nastiness and wondering what is becoming of the world. I got a good picture of Soi Eric (Eric Street), a side lane lined on both sides with go-go bars, and Eric took a photo of me in front of a for sale sign hanging on one of the bars (who needs to be a lawyer when you can run off to manage your very own go-go bar?!).
Finally 9:20 rolled around, and we headed to the show. Well, we headed to the bar -- which was completely empty of patrons, but full of ladyboys. As soon as we peaked inside, out came a gaggle of ladyboys to drag us to the nearest table and explain that the show would be starting soon. Eric and I ordered beers since one needs liquor for these sorts of excursions. And two lovely ladyboys joined us at our table. You guessed it -- like trashy strip clubs in the US, the show might be free at the cabaret, but you're supposed to buy the ladies drinks in exchange for their company. We probably could have sent them away, but when you're the only patron, you feel at least a little obligation to help pay the ladies' salaries. As a result, we had two ladyboys join our party.
About then an older Australian man and his wife entered the bar. The man looked like a jolly, non-winking, Aussie version of Popeye. His wife looked, well, wifely (grandmotherly, even) and less than amused by the situation. They plopped down at the table beside ours, and before I could say "boo," there were four ladyboys swarming around them. I think that they too decided that two was enough and sent the others away to dance on the bar and frolic outside.
All the while there were ladyboys dancing on poles in the middle of the room and shedding clothing in the bar window. (Apparently one of the less clothed ones kept making very obscene gestures at Eric every time I turned my back) The ladyboys at our table decided that what would liven up the place was some audience participation...unfortunately that translated into "Meg" participation. Yep, men don't get to participate, and there was no way in hell anyone was getting the grandmotherly Australian to do anything more than control her anger long enough not to kill her husband in public. Go figure that this was one of the occasions in life when being drunk would have assisted, and when I wasn't. Bother.
Thus sober me was dragged onto the bar to dance and pose with the ladyboys. That lasted all of five minutes before I decided that I had participated more than enough. Eric got a good laugh off that one!
Thankfully the cabaret was finally ready to start, so I was left alone for a bit. Poor Katoys R Us! It's a bit low-rent, I must admit -- nothing like Christie's on Samui. The costumes didn't quite fit, and about half of the backup dancers looked anything but excited.
I do believe the highlight of the show was a fat drag queen who belly danced to Hava Negila. Yes, I am well aware of the many, many things wrong with that performance. Let's see -- ere, there are a million middle easterners wandering the streets of Phuket, and I really doubt they would be happy to see a tranny belly dancing. Then there's the issue with the song being a JEWISH folk song, not a belly dancing fave. Then there's the problem in general with short, fat, somewhat hairy men belly dancing in public arenas ... But hey, it was funny in that sad, inappropriate way.
There were several other performances that were more, ere, traditional and thus more appropriately enjoyable (if anything at a ladyboy cabaret can really be defined as "appropriate"). Lucky me was again dragged into the spotlight after the Australian wife angrily refused to dance with the first "singer." And again my participation lasted exactly as long as it took for me to politely escape back to my bar stool.
While the show as going on, some of the other ladyboys were wandering around the bar. The world's foremost ladyboy body builder (imagine a stocky, ripped man with large fake boobies) came over and began punching said bosoms with great force for some reason (I kept wanting to issue a warning about the dangers of exploding implants -- just ask one of those WWE lady wrestlers) -- but couldn't find the appropriate words. The little body builder was hassling the Australian -- and may have punched him in the arm -- I'm not sure what was going on. Then it was our turn. The ladyboy came to our table with some little packages of damp towels (which they had in large supply at the bar for some reason). She handed one to me, then turned to Eric and punched him right in the chest with the other one -- it exploded with a great boom, and Eric nearly fell off his stool. Odd really. (I'm not sure that was necessary in the name of damp towelettes, but hey, I'm not sure any of this was really necessary in the traditional sense of the word.)
About the time I was thinking I was ready to flee the scene (but wondering how to duck out when we were two of four in the audience), the show ended. We snapped a couple more pictures then ran from Patong Beach. Oh my...
Friday, August 31, 2007
Bangkok
We've survived Phuket and made our way up to Bangkok, though for a little while it didn't look so good. We'll be seeing the sites here over the next couple days before heading home Sunday.
"We've come to take your culture."
Last night was interesting. We decided to go up to Patong Beach for dinner and a ladyboy cabaret. Meg called dibs on that story, so I'll leave it for her to write. For now, I'll just say that Bangla makes Bourbon St. look like Mayberry.
This morning we opted to check out a different type of wildlife. We hopped on a package tour up to a gibbon preserve on the other side of the island. Very touristy -- the tour included elephant and buffalo cart rides -- thing to do, but in our defense, we were in Phuket, touristy is the only option.
Anyway, we're in Bangkok now, holed up in funky old hotel (The Atlanta), now so all is right(ish) with the world again. Now I just need to go wash the Phuket off of me.
Enjoy.
Last night was interesting. We decided to go up to Patong Beach for dinner and a ladyboy cabaret. Meg called dibs on that story, so I'll leave it for her to write. For now, I'll just say that Bangla makes Bourbon St. look like Mayberry.
This morning we opted to check out a different type of wildlife. We hopped on a package tour up to a gibbon preserve on the other side of the island. Very touristy -- the tour included elephant and buffalo cart rides -- thing to do, but in our defense, we were in Phuket, touristy is the only option.
Anyway, we're in Bangkok now, holed up in funky old hotel (The Atlanta), now so all is right(ish) with the world again. Now I just need to go wash the Phuket off of me.
Enjoy.
Wednesday, August 29, 2007
Phuket
The weather and tides kept us from diving yesterday, so rather than sit on Phi Phi watching the rain we decided to make our way to Phuket a day early to take advantage of the fancy pants resort here. I'd forgotten how nice air conditioning, hot water and toilets that flush when you press a little lever can be. The hotel is across the highway from Karon Beach on the western side of Phuket island. It's one of those fancy places that has big pools with swim-up bars.
Phuket itself is sort of tourist hell. Everything is expensive and covered in neon -- imagine Panama City Beach with Thai hookers and ladyboys. We ate dinner at at a Scandanavian restaurant last night. Their menu consisted of Thai food, pasta and pizza. But they did serve Aquavit, so I guess that makes them Scandanavian. The pizza was tasty.
I'll post some pictures when I can find a computer that's USB ports don't look diseased.
Enjoy.
Tuesday, August 28, 2007
And then there were two
So it's down to just Meg and and I now. Phil and Maya left for Bangkok a couple days ago. If my calculations are correct they're in the air, a few hours from NYC at the moment.
The night before they left, we all went out to dinner with the folks from the dive shop we've been using (Paradise Diving on Long Beach Koh Phi Phi, if you find yourself in the neighborhood. Ask for Adam.) We had a massive feast of fish of all sorts and prawns and beer. A good time was had by all.
View from the lean-to on "Small Beach."
After an early breakfast to see the others off, Meg and I hiked up on to one of the hills to another resort -- currently closed until high season -- overlooking our beach. A little sign saying "Small Beach" pointed down an overgrown path through the jungle. Not having anything better to do, we decided to see where the path lead. True to the sign, there was a tiny patch of sand nestled among the rocks. Someone (turned out to be an industrious Austrian family) had built a lean-to out of sticks, banana leaves and palm fronds, so we spent most of the morning relaxing in the shade, reading our books and watching hermit crabs race across the sand.
We spent most of yesterday diving. The visibility wasn't quite as good and there were some pretty strong currents but we still managed to have a good time and see some cool fish (including yet another leopard shark).
The mouth of Pi-leh Bay, setting of the movie The Beach
Today we're sort of bumming around. It's been storming a bit -- no good for diving -- so we came into to town to do some exploring. We might dive again tomorrow, depending on how the reports about today sound. We fly to Bangkok from Phuket Friday and then head home from there Sunday so we're nearing the end of our trip. We might head to Phuket a night early and spend a night in one of the fancy places there, but we'll see.
Enjoy.
The night before they left, we all went out to dinner with the folks from the dive shop we've been using (Paradise Diving on Long Beach Koh Phi Phi, if you find yourself in the neighborhood. Ask for Adam.) We had a massive feast of fish of all sorts and prawns and beer. A good time was had by all.
After an early breakfast to see the others off, Meg and I hiked up on to one of the hills to another resort -- currently closed until high season -- overlooking our beach. A little sign saying "Small Beach" pointed down an overgrown path through the jungle. Not having anything better to do, we decided to see where the path lead. True to the sign, there was a tiny patch of sand nestled among the rocks. Someone (turned out to be an industrious Austrian family) had built a lean-to out of sticks, banana leaves and palm fronds, so we spent most of the morning relaxing in the shade, reading our books and watching hermit crabs race across the sand.
We spent most of yesterday diving. The visibility wasn't quite as good and there were some pretty strong currents but we still managed to have a good time and see some cool fish (including yet another leopard shark).
Today we're sort of bumming around. It's been storming a bit -- no good for diving -- so we came into to town to do some exploring. We might dive again tomorrow, depending on how the reports about today sound. We fly to Bangkok from Phuket Friday and then head home from there Sunday so we're nearing the end of our trip. We might head to Phuket a night early and spend a night in one of the fancy places there, but we'll see.
Enjoy.
Hurts so good...
Hiring someone to give you a Thai massage is only steps away from hiring someone to torture you into submission. They're both posted on signs along the good girl's highway to S&M. Okay, maybe that's an exaggeration, but still -- there is something a little off about asking a very old, very strong woman to dig her thumbs into your legs and arms until you're quite certain that a) you're really going to scream this time she presses and b) tomorrow you'll be covered in dark blue, thumb-shaped bruises. So why subject yourself to such torture? Well, because afterward you feel darn skippy.
Yep, I got my first Thai massage of the trip on Saturday. The masseuse may have looked old and frail, but whatever she's been up to during her life has left her stronger than the largest WWE wrestler (either prior to steroid use or following!). I spent the first part of the massage lying on my back until the lovely thatched roof beside the sea listening to the waves crash on the shore while trying my hardest not to scrunch up my eyes too tightly when a finger dug a little too deep into a sore muscle. (In these situations, admitting pain is either a) setting yourself up for a weak and unsatisfactory massage or b) asking your sadistic masseuse for a beating -- and there's no way to tell which you'll end up calling forth ... neither is good)
I was thoroughly proud of myself for not squeaking once during the massage and for keeping my face in a largely "oooo, look how relaxed and bendy I am" position for much of the time. I guess the masseuse took this as a challenge because near the end she first stood on my legs (which was actually quite nice once she stepped off of them), then she bent me forward and pretty much sat on my back. Having tight legs, that wasn't going to happen -- at least not to the degree that she had hoped -- so out came my squeak of pain...followed shortly by her laughing.
You never win against your Thai masseuse -- especially if she's old enough to be your grandmother and hiding amazing upper-body strength in those bony hands. You just give in and let her torture your into submission. But really, it's great.
In fact, I'm planning a return trip tomorrow. Perhaps by the end of the week my head will reach my knees when someone sits on me.
Yep, I got my first Thai massage of the trip on Saturday. The masseuse may have looked old and frail, but whatever she's been up to during her life has left her stronger than the largest WWE wrestler (either prior to steroid use or following!). I spent the first part of the massage lying on my back until the lovely thatched roof beside the sea listening to the waves crash on the shore while trying my hardest not to scrunch up my eyes too tightly when a finger dug a little too deep into a sore muscle. (In these situations, admitting pain is either a) setting yourself up for a weak and unsatisfactory massage or b) asking your sadistic masseuse for a beating -- and there's no way to tell which you'll end up calling forth ... neither is good)
I was thoroughly proud of myself for not squeaking once during the massage and for keeping my face in a largely "oooo, look how relaxed and bendy I am" position for much of the time. I guess the masseuse took this as a challenge because near the end she first stood on my legs (which was actually quite nice once she stepped off of them), then she bent me forward and pretty much sat on my back. Having tight legs, that wasn't going to happen -- at least not to the degree that she had hoped -- so out came my squeak of pain...followed shortly by her laughing.
You never win against your Thai masseuse -- especially if she's old enough to be your grandmother and hiding amazing upper-body strength in those bony hands. You just give in and let her torture your into submission. But really, it's great.
In fact, I'm planning a return trip tomorrow. Perhaps by the end of the week my head will reach my knees when someone sits on me.
Saturday, August 25, 2007
Still on Phi Phi
We're still on Phi Phi, enjoying the sun and diving. Phil and I have both enjoyed the sun a little too much and are now a bit on the pink side, but tons of aloe are helping with that.
Sunset from the beach on Koh Phi Phi.
Phil and Maya finished their Open Water Diver course, so the four of us went on a couple of dives yesterday. The dives were spectacular, we saw all sorts of marine life -- a leopard shark, turtles, sea snake, eels, lobster, giant shrimp, sea slugs, giant clam. The diving was all around a small just of Phi Phi called Koh Phi Phi Lay. We had lunch on a small beach there in Loh Samah Bay. The islands around here are stunning massive cliffs rise straight up out of the water, giving way occasionally to small white sand beaches.
Loh Samah Bay on Koh Phi Phi Lay.
The only downside is the cost. Both the diving and accomodations are a bit pricey here. So Meg and I are considering heading to the east to Koh Samui and Koh Tao -- her old stomping grounds -- where things are a bit cheaper.
Phil and Maya head to Bangkok early tomorrow to begin their journey home. I think we're going to try snorkeling with the blacktip reef sharks before they leave tommorrow morning. I'll let you know how it goes.
Enjoy.
BTW, I went back and added pictures to some of the Laos posts. Check them out, if you want.
Phil and Maya finished their Open Water Diver course, so the four of us went on a couple of dives yesterday. The dives were spectacular, we saw all sorts of marine life -- a leopard shark, turtles, sea snake, eels, lobster, giant shrimp, sea slugs, giant clam. The diving was all around a small just of Phi Phi called Koh Phi Phi Lay. We had lunch on a small beach there in Loh Samah Bay. The islands around here are stunning massive cliffs rise straight up out of the water, giving way occasionally to small white sand beaches.
The only downside is the cost. Both the diving and accomodations are a bit pricey here. So Meg and I are considering heading to the east to Koh Samui and Koh Tao -- her old stomping grounds -- where things are a bit cheaper.
Phil and Maya head to Bangkok early tomorrow to begin their journey home. I think we're going to try snorkeling with the blacktip reef sharks before they leave tommorrow morning. I'll let you know how it goes.
Enjoy.
BTW, I went back and added pictures to some of the Laos posts. Check them out, if you want.
Thursday, August 23, 2007
Koh Phi Phi
Beaches, bungalows and beers. That's what we've found here on Koh Phi Phi (pronounced pee-pee ... huh-huh). We arrived by ferry yesterday afternoon and haven't done much since. A lot of lounging on the beach and some swimming. Today we walked into town to pick up some supplies and walk around. Pretty laid back. Phil and Maya finish their open water course today, so we'll all go diving tomorrow ... and the next day ... repeat.
I'll post more later, but the internet rates are killer here, so they'll be short. I have a couple of backlogged photos to add too -- Vientianne, Tad Fane and Meg the Momma Cow.
Enjoy.
Tuesday, August 21, 2007
Into Thailand
Meg and I have crossed the border into Thailand. We're spending the night in Udon Thani -- not the nicest of places -- before flying to Phuket in the morning. From there we'll take a boat out to Koh Phi Phi and meet up with Phil and Maya for some beach time and diving before they have to leave.
Vientiane was nice. It was the only place we visited in Laos that I would truly call a city. Pakse was close, but didn't quite make it. Of course, Vientiane is crowded with backpackers and ex-pats -- and businesses catering to them -- so it didn't have as much of the exotic feel as sopme other places. We spent yesterday sightseeing around the city and resting after the overnight bus ride from Pakse. This morning we rented a motorbike in a futile effort to find a park full of Buddha sculptures somewhere south of the city. It probably would have been more efective to hire a jumbo -- a vehicle like the Cambodian tuk-tuks crossed with a pick-up truck -- to get out there, but the motorbike was an adventure and we did get to see some of the countryside around Vientiane.
We rode a bus from Vientiane across the Thai-Laos Friendship Bridge over the Mekong. The Thai passport control post -- and this is a major crossing mind you -- made the little huts in the jungle at the Cambodia-Laos border seem positively top notch. We spent at least an hour in line because the officer checking passports felt compelled to pull stray staples from old departure slips out of every passport he touched. It was infuriating.
Sorry I don't haven't any pictures up at the moment. The fickle hand of third-world computing has been preventing me from uploading pictures. As soon as I can, I'll get some stuff up so you have something pretty to look at, not just my blathering.
Enjoy.
Sunday, August 19, 2007
On the way to Vientiane
Meg and I are back in Pakse trying to make arrangements to get from here to Vientiane. We've spent the last couple of nights in a bungalow on cliff overlooking the waterfall at Tad Fane.
Tad Fane on the Bolaven Plateau.
On Friday Phil, Maya, Meg and I set out with a French family on a tour of the Bolaven Plateau. The plateau is the home of the Lao coffee and tea industries, a number of absurdly picturesque waterfalls and is the traditional home of a handful of Laos' smaller ethnic groups. Accordingly, our tour stopped at a coffee plantation, a couple of tribal villages and three different waterfalls. It was all quite nice, though it would have been better if our driver/guide had spoken at least a little English or French, or if we spoke Lao. As it was we had to be satisfied with the driver pulling to a stop, pointing at something, then telling us the name. At the end of our tour, the driver dropped Meg and I at our hotel and took the rest of the crew back to Pakse (if all went as planned, Phil and Maya should be waiting for us on the beach on Koh Phi Phi in Thailand).
There's not a lot to tell about the last couple of days (except Meg's story about becoming a mom below). We took a couple of hikes around the hotel, but spent most of our time sitting on the front porch of our bungalow hiding from the rain and watching the mists blow in and out of the valley.
As an aside, Lao coffee is an amazing thing. It's so thick and black that the color doesn't change when you add milk. The flavor is strong but not bitter. We're bringing some home, if you ask nice we might share.
Meg's in the process of arranging our travel from Vientiane to Phuket, Thailand and becoming increasingly frustrated, I better go pay attention to her.
Enjoy.
On Friday Phil, Maya, Meg and I set out with a French family on a tour of the Bolaven Plateau. The plateau is the home of the Lao coffee and tea industries, a number of absurdly picturesque waterfalls and is the traditional home of a handful of Laos' smaller ethnic groups. Accordingly, our tour stopped at a coffee plantation, a couple of tribal villages and three different waterfalls. It was all quite nice, though it would have been better if our driver/guide had spoken at least a little English or French, or if we spoke Lao. As it was we had to be satisfied with the driver pulling to a stop, pointing at something, then telling us the name. At the end of our tour, the driver dropped Meg and I at our hotel and took the rest of the crew back to Pakse (if all went as planned, Phil and Maya should be waiting for us on the beach on Koh Phi Phi in Thailand).
There's not a lot to tell about the last couple of days (except Meg's story about becoming a mom below). We took a couple of hikes around the hotel, but spent most of our time sitting on the front porch of our bungalow hiding from the rain and watching the mists blow in and out of the valley.
As an aside, Lao coffee is an amazing thing. It's so thick and black that the color doesn't change when you add milk. The flavor is strong but not bitter. We're bringing some home, if you ask nice we might share.
Meg's in the process of arranging our travel from Vientiane to Phuket, Thailand and becoming increasingly frustrated, I better go pay attention to her.
Enjoy.
And that's how I became a calf's mommy...
Yesterday Eric and I set off on a a little hike in search of more waterfalls on the Bolaven Plateau (aka: one of the most beautiful areas on earth). We were slip-sliding along the red-dirt road thinking fond thoughts of how we could stain our pants red in Laos just as easily as at home when we heard a terrible noise. It was something between the scream of a tortured sheep and that of a terrified child. BMAAAAAllll! BMAAAAllll!!! When we stepped around the bend in the road we could see a small brown calf standing on the edge of the road screaming its little lungs out. There was no cow in sight.
As we got closer, we could see that not only was it small, but it was brand-spanking new with damp fur and a dangling umbilical cord. Still no cow in sight. Apparently I gave the little creature a friendly look because it stumbled my way bleating and carrying on while slipping in the ridiculously slick muck on the road. Eric and I kept walking, but the calf already was convinced that I must be its mother. Up the road I went, and up the road the little calf followed. Back down the road I returned because I did not wish to lead the poor critter too far astray. And so we were stuck in the road in Laos with a damp calf rubbing against my knees and bleating away.
About then a group of women came from the far end of the road. They didn't seem to understand what our wild hand gestures meant, so I walked up the road with my bovine shadow then returned, shadow still intact. The women finally seemed to comprehend the situation. They yelled to another woman down the road, and she meandered to us, scooped up the calf and tried to poke it back through the hole in the gate. Eric and I took that opportunity to escape.
Now it all would have been fine and well had we not been forced to return down the same stretch of road. Sure enough the little calf was standing out in the middle crying when we came back. Eric told me not to look, but being me, I couldn't help it. Like Lot's wife I just had to turn around, and rather than a pillar of salt, I again transformed into a calf's mommy. Yep, back it came ambling after me and rubbing on my legs. This time the little shadow even went so far as to try to take a bite out of my pant leg. I gave up and bent down to give the little animal a scritch behind the ears as Eric released a sigh of, well, something.
This time around there were no women handy to carry off the little creature, so we were stuck. Eric found a little girl down the road, but the most information he could glean from her was that the calf did not belong to her family. Back and forth he wandered searching for someone to remove my bovine shadow. I had to stay at the gate because if I moved, the calf came with me slipping all over the place in the slick mud and falling in the most tragic of manners.
In the end, I went to the nearest house's gate (where Eric had seen the child) and made some noise. An old woman came outside shouting at me and shooing me away, but I kept pointing at the cow. I'm sure the hand gestures I was using to convey my predicament were probably obscene here, and they were useless. So I marched back and forth in front of the gate demonstrating the problem. After a lot of shouting from the woman and confusion from me, the woman gestured for me to follow her. I followed her, the calf followed me, and the little girl followed the calf. We all wandered into the coffee plants in the general direction from which the calf had come. As soon as the calf was away from me, I turned to run. Then I remembered my manners, and I stopped and bowed to the old lady. THEN I ran back to the road to meet Eric. We dashed (and slipped and slid) around the next bend in the road.
And we wonder why people in other countries think we're crazy.
Thursday, August 16, 2007
Pakse
We find ourselves now in Pakse, one of the larger cities in southern Laos. We visited the massive, sprawling market here earlier today and wanered around a bit on foot. Pakse isn't the most exciting place on the planet, but it is a sort of regional hub so we can get to other places from here. Meg and I will be headed out to the Bolaven Plateau tomorrow for a couple of nights in an eco-lodge beside the Tad Fane waterfalls before heading up to northern Laos (Vientiane and possibly Luang Prabang)for a couple of nights. Phil and Maya will be heading to the west coast of Thailand for some beach time. We'll catch up with them there next week.
Rice paddies on Don Det.
We were all sad to leave Don Det. It was a sort of minimalist heaven. In between lounging in our hammocks, we explored the island and it's neighbor, Don Khon. The islands are small, their interiors given over almost entirely to rice paddies, with a handful of bungalows and restaurants along the rivers. We spent a day biking around the islands (they're connected by an old railroad bridge) and another floating down the Mekong in inner tubes.
Sunset over the Mekong.
The sunsets were spectacular as were the pumpkin burgers (really a pumpkin fritter and cucumbers on a toasted baguette) and spring rolls at Mr Noi's. A crazy Aussie ex-pat (whom everyone referred to as Mr. Oi)runs a small bakery on the island, churning out homemade, Western-style pastries including donuts and pouches full of chocolate and banana. It was a tough place to leave.
Between Don Det and Pakse, we spent an evening in Champasak. There we visited the ruins of Wat Phu, an Angkor-era temple built on the side of a mountain near the city. The views from the wat out over the surrounding countryside were stunning. The temple itself was not as well-maintained as those around Siem Reap, but they were less crowded and did have some interesting features.
The view from Wat Phu.
Getting to Champasak was interesting. We took a minibus from Ban Nakasang with a German couple who seemed to be headed to Champasak as well and appeared to speak little or no English. At one point, our bus driver stopped at a crossroads more or less in the middle of nowhere and, pointing down one of the roads, said, "Champasak." This didn't seem right, as we knew for a fact that: 1) the city was on the opposite side of the Mekong; and 2) the road we were traveling on was a couple of miles from the river. After some shouting, we convinced the driver (who also didn't speak English) to take us all the way to the ferry stop. The Germans just smiled and nodded. When we arrived at the ferry, there were a couple of different ferry docks, so we were trying to figure out which one to go to before getting out of van. At this point on of our German friends "When we went to Champasak before, this is where they dropped us off." As it turns out they not only spoke English but weren't headed Champasak, but Pakse. Needless to say, we were a bit cheesed that they hadn't interceded at the crossroads.
Anyway, we eventually got to where we were headed and even met the governor of Champasak Province, but that's a story for another time. Right now, there's a cold Beer Lao waiting for me at the rooftop restaurant in our hotel, so I gotta go.
Enjoy.
We were all sad to leave Don Det. It was a sort of minimalist heaven. In between lounging in our hammocks, we explored the island and it's neighbor, Don Khon. The islands are small, their interiors given over almost entirely to rice paddies, with a handful of bungalows and restaurants along the rivers. We spent a day biking around the islands (they're connected by an old railroad bridge) and another floating down the Mekong in inner tubes.
The sunsets were spectacular as were the pumpkin burgers (really a pumpkin fritter and cucumbers on a toasted baguette) and spring rolls at Mr Noi's. A crazy Aussie ex-pat (whom everyone referred to as Mr. Oi)runs a small bakery on the island, churning out homemade, Western-style pastries including donuts and pouches full of chocolate and banana. It was a tough place to leave.
Between Don Det and Pakse, we spent an evening in Champasak. There we visited the ruins of Wat Phu, an Angkor-era temple built on the side of a mountain near the city. The views from the wat out over the surrounding countryside were stunning. The temple itself was not as well-maintained as those around Siem Reap, but they were less crowded and did have some interesting features.
Getting to Champasak was interesting. We took a minibus from Ban Nakasang with a German couple who seemed to be headed to Champasak as well and appeared to speak little or no English. At one point, our bus driver stopped at a crossroads more or less in the middle of nowhere and, pointing down one of the roads, said, "Champasak." This didn't seem right, as we knew for a fact that: 1) the city was on the opposite side of the Mekong; and 2) the road we were traveling on was a couple of miles from the river. After some shouting, we convinced the driver (who also didn't speak English) to take us all the way to the ferry stop. The Germans just smiled and nodded. When we arrived at the ferry, there were a couple of different ferry docks, so we were trying to figure out which one to go to before getting out of van. At this point on of our German friends "When we went to Champasak before, this is where they dropped us off." As it turns out they not only spoke English but weren't headed Champasak, but Pakse. Needless to say, we were a bit cheesed that they hadn't interceded at the crossroads.
Anyway, we eventually got to where we were headed and even met the governor of Champasak Province, but that's a story for another time. Right now, there's a cold Beer Lao waiting for me at the rooftop restaurant in our hotel, so I gotta go.
Enjoy.
Monday, August 13, 2007
Heaven
We made it to Si Phan Don -- the island of Don Det to be precise -- is southern Laos. It's one of the most amazing places we've been yet. We spent yesterday afternoon wandering around on foot and most of today exploring this and a neighboring island by bicycle. I'll post pictures later -- the kid here had to fire up a generator (there's no power here) for us to get online. It's a little pricier here than other places.
Enjoy.
Enjoy.
Saturday, August 11, 2007
Kratie
So Kratie does have an internet cafe. Two actually -- wasn't sure there would be any here.
We said goodbye to Brad and Jenn this morning (they should be somewhere over the middle of the Pacific right about now), and hopped a bus up here. Thankfully today's ride wasn't as exciting as yesterday's.
We were able to get up here early enough to go on a dolphin tour. We spent a couple hours on the river and spotted a number of dolphins. Sorry, no picutres. The Irrawaddy are not as playful or as sociable as their marine cousins. The surface just long enough to grab a breath of air before the next dive, making photography a giant pain. I think it's because they're a bit funny looking. Sort of like a cross between a porpise and beluga whale, they look like a dolphin or porpise, but have no beak.
On the way back our moto drivers took us to Phnom Sambok, a hill just north of town. It's the only high ground around, so it offers beautiful views of the surrounding countryside. There are approxiamately 350 steps leading up to a Buddhist temple at the top of the hill. We climbed every last one.
If all goes well tomorrow, tonight will be our last in Cambodia. Tomorrow, we take a minibus from here to Stung Treng, then hop into boat for the ride up to the border with Laos. After getting our passports stamped, we'll take another minibus into Vuen Kham to hop a boat to Don Det.
Don Det is a small island in the middle of the Si Phan Don area of Laos. According to our guidebooks, the island should have been wired for power last year, but I'm not going to count on it. We'll probably spend a couple of days there or on one of the other islands before continuing on to Pakse. We should have a couple of relaxing days ahead.
Enjoy.
We said goodbye to Brad and Jenn this morning (they should be somewhere over the middle of the Pacific right about now), and hopped a bus up here. Thankfully today's ride wasn't as exciting as yesterday's.
We were able to get up here early enough to go on a dolphin tour. We spent a couple hours on the river and spotted a number of dolphins. Sorry, no picutres. The Irrawaddy are not as playful or as sociable as their marine cousins. The surface just long enough to grab a breath of air before the next dive, making photography a giant pain. I think it's because they're a bit funny looking. Sort of like a cross between a porpise and beluga whale, they look like a dolphin or porpise, but have no beak.
On the way back our moto drivers took us to Phnom Sambok, a hill just north of town. It's the only high ground around, so it offers beautiful views of the surrounding countryside. There are approxiamately 350 steps leading up to a Buddhist temple at the top of the hill. We climbed every last one.
If all goes well tomorrow, tonight will be our last in Cambodia. Tomorrow, we take a minibus from here to Stung Treng, then hop into boat for the ride up to the border with Laos. After getting our passports stamped, we'll take another minibus into Vuen Kham to hop a boat to Don Det.
Don Det is a small island in the middle of the Si Phan Don area of Laos. According to our guidebooks, the island should have been wired for power last year, but I'm not going to count on it. We'll probably spend a couple of days there or on one of the other islands before continuing on to Pakse. We should have a couple of relaxing days ahead.
Enjoy.
Friday, August 10, 2007
Return to Phnom Penh
We've returned safely (if that's the correct word) to Phnom Penh. It was a harrowing bus ride up.
I'm not entirely sure the driver was on some sort of uppers, but he sure drove like he was. Full throttle, weaving in and out of traffic, on the horn like he was typing Morse code. Remember, this is a full-size, Greyhound-style coach we're talking about here, not some sort of minibus.
For the first half of the trip we were all more or less able to immerse ourselves in either our books or the cheesy martial-arts flick (dubbed in Khmer, of course) on the tube and ignore what was going on outside the bus. We did pass what seemed to be a trucker strike -- a long line of trucks stopped in the road, blocking the northbound lane -- but, other than that, nothing too weird.
Shortly after the rest stop at the midway point of the trip, we had all re-immersed ourselves in our particular diversions when, Wham!, the bus driver runs through or over (no one's sure which, we hadn't been paying attention) something massive in the roadway. The bus itself jumped up a bit, then started bouncing down the road like a low rider on hydraulics. Of course none of this slows the driver down -- he just keeps on truckin' -- only now whenever he swerves, jams on brakes, or even runs over the tiniest of bumps (of which there are plenty), the bus bounces a bit. Eventually, though, we did make it into the city, lurching and jerking all the way.
Once here, we ran some errands. To the bank for some extra cash and the Russian Market for supplies. Our tuk-tuk driver (one of the guys working for our guesthouse, not some random guy off the street) asked us if we were interested helping children at one of the orphanages in the city, something we'd been talking about within our group since our first stay in Phnom Penh. We said yes, so he took us to the orphanage run by the Cambodian Light Children Association (CLCA), a group working out of one of the shanty towns that dot the city. They work with about 120 orphans and street kids, providing schooling, housing and food.
Children at CLCA orphanage.
We went in bearing a 50Kg bag of rice and 10 bars of soap (a whopping $35 US investment for two days supplies of each for the entire orphanage). The orphanage itself was little more than a few stuck together buildings at the end of dirt alley in the middle of the shanty. The children themselves were cute though and genuinely excited to see us there.
Tomorrow the party splits up. Brad and Jenn are headed back home to Columbus, and Phil, Maya, Meg and I begin our journey up the Mekong. Our first stop will be in Kratie (five or six hours by bus -- yay, bus!) where we'll stop for a night or two, depending when we can find someone to take us to see the Irrawaddy river dolphins. From Kratie, it's on up the river (probably by boat most of the way depending on road and river conditions) to Si Phan Don -- the Four-thousand Islands -- in southern Laos.
I don't know what Internet availability will be like between here and Pak Se, Laos (about four or five days away), but I'll post when I can.
Enjoy.
I'm not entirely sure the driver was on some sort of uppers, but he sure drove like he was. Full throttle, weaving in and out of traffic, on the horn like he was typing Morse code. Remember, this is a full-size, Greyhound-style coach we're talking about here, not some sort of minibus.
For the first half of the trip we were all more or less able to immerse ourselves in either our books or the cheesy martial-arts flick (dubbed in Khmer, of course) on the tube and ignore what was going on outside the bus. We did pass what seemed to be a trucker strike -- a long line of trucks stopped in the road, blocking the northbound lane -- but, other than that, nothing too weird.
Shortly after the rest stop at the midway point of the trip, we had all re-immersed ourselves in our particular diversions when, Wham!, the bus driver runs through or over (no one's sure which, we hadn't been paying attention) something massive in the roadway. The bus itself jumped up a bit, then started bouncing down the road like a low rider on hydraulics. Of course none of this slows the driver down -- he just keeps on truckin' -- only now whenever he swerves, jams on brakes, or even runs over the tiniest of bumps (of which there are plenty), the bus bounces a bit. Eventually, though, we did make it into the city, lurching and jerking all the way.
Once here, we ran some errands. To the bank for some extra cash and the Russian Market for supplies. Our tuk-tuk driver (one of the guys working for our guesthouse, not some random guy off the street) asked us if we were interested helping children at one of the orphanages in the city, something we'd been talking about within our group since our first stay in Phnom Penh. We said yes, so he took us to the orphanage run by the Cambodian Light Children Association (CLCA), a group working out of one of the shanty towns that dot the city. They work with about 120 orphans and street kids, providing schooling, housing and food.
We went in bearing a 50Kg bag of rice and 10 bars of soap (a whopping $35 US investment for two days supplies of each for the entire orphanage). The orphanage itself was little more than a few stuck together buildings at the end of dirt alley in the middle of the shanty. The children themselves were cute though and genuinely excited to see us there.
Tomorrow the party splits up. Brad and Jenn are headed back home to Columbus, and Phil, Maya, Meg and I begin our journey up the Mekong. Our first stop will be in Kratie (five or six hours by bus -- yay, bus!) where we'll stop for a night or two, depending when we can find someone to take us to see the Irrawaddy river dolphins. From Kratie, it's on up the river (probably by boat most of the way depending on road and river conditions) to Si Phan Don -- the Four-thousand Islands -- in southern Laos.
I don't know what Internet availability will be like between here and Pak Se, Laos (about four or five days away), but I'll post when I can.
Enjoy.
Thursday, August 9, 2007
Random Stuff
Today's been a quiet day, and promises to remain that way. It has poured rain all morning, flooding the courtyard of our hotel, and forcing us to remain on our porches reading, journaling and napping. It's stopped raining now (now that I've said that, it's started pouring down again), but the rainy-day inertia is proving difficult to overcome. There's talk of heading over to the beach for a swim, but movement in that direction is decidedly slow.
Meg and the sodden courtyard.
So today I'll recount a couple of the little stories I've missed along the way. You might also notice I've added Meg as a contributor. She has a couple of stories to tell, beginning with the one below about or trip to the Phnom Penh post office.
Anyway, here's some random stuff we've encountered along the way:
Fish Amok
Now this does not refer to rioting seafood, but one of the staple dishes of Khmer cuisine. It's a curried stew of Cambodian veggies and whatever the local fish of choice happens to be. Up in Siem Reap, it's a fish from the Tonle Sap who's name I can neither spell nor pronounce. Down in Sihanoukville, it's barracuda. Sometimes it's served in the shell of a young coconut, others in a banana-leaf boat.
However it's done, it's always tasty. There's some debate over which version is the the best, but everyone, Phil in particular, has become a fan.
Traffic
Cambodian traffic is sort of a miracle to watch, particularly as someone in the position of passive participant. Vehicles move like schools of fish. There's an odd ebb and flow to their movements as they mesh and merge to avoid obstacles, accept new members. There don't seem to be any traffic laws per se (at least none that are obeyed), but there do seem to be a couple rules:
1) Mass always wins. For the most part larger vehicles. Smaller vehicles just sort of keep out of the way.
2) Just go. If you need to shift lanes, make a turn, or perform some more complicated maneuver, just go ahead and do it. People will get out your way. This rule applies to pedestrians crossing traffic too.
Other than that, it's semi-controlled chaos. Heck, it even makes Philly traffic look civilized.
The Lamborghini
Speaking of traffic, Brad, Meg and and I were riding in a tuk-tuk through Phnom Penh on the way to Choeung Ek. The rest of the group was in another tuk-tuk.
Brad, riding in the backward-facing seat, says, "You guys might not want to look back." Of course Meg and I both turn around immediately. Knifing through traffic on a direct course for our tuk-tuk is a jet-black Lamorghini -- a Murciélago, I believe, but I'm not an expert. It's moving extremely fast until, mere feet behind our little tuk-tuk, the driver jams on his brakes to avoid rear-ending us.
At the next gap in oncoming traffic, he veers left guns the engine and speeds by us, only to jam on his brakes about 100 yards on to avoiding plowing into a pack of motorbikes. He repeats this same set of actions until he's out of sight.
Poor guy, Cambodian traffic must be so frustrating for him.
The Escaping Bag
We were getting onto the bus in Phnom Penh ready to make our way down to the coast. The transportation stop was crowded and confused, so like the dutiful travellers we are, we kept a close eye on our bags. We each handed off our big bags to the bus line worker and watched as they were shoved into the compartment under the bus before boarding. We took our seats and I, not feeling overly well at the time, started to nod off against the window.
Suddenly, Meg shouted, "There goes your bag!" I open my eyes in time to see a man with my bag disappear around the front of the bus. Meg and Phil immediately jump up and run off the bus, followed by several agitated Cambodians. Still feeling a bit groggy, I wade through the crowd of excited locals now crowding the aisle to the door of the bus. As it turns out, the guy with my bag was one of the other bus company workers, moving my bag from one compartment to another. Oops.
The Mekong Bucket
At right, Brad with a Mekong Bucket.
All of the bars along the beach here offer a variation on a drink called The Mekong Bucket. As the name implies, this tasty concoction is served in a large container -- either one of those children's sand buckets or a small pitcher -- with a handful of straws to facilitate sharing.
The most common recipe includes a generous portion of whiskey, some Coca-Cola, a dose of Red Bull and a splash of fresh lime juice. Judging by taste, the proportions seems to vary from place to place, but all have been surprisingly good so far. We might have to have a Mekong Bucket party when we get back home.
The Snake House
I'll save that one for a later date.
It sounds like people have finally motivated themselves to move toward the beach, time for a swim -- the last before we head back to Phnom Penh tomorrow.
Enjoy.
So today I'll recount a couple of the little stories I've missed along the way. You might also notice I've added Meg as a contributor. She has a couple of stories to tell, beginning with the one below about or trip to the Phnom Penh post office.
Anyway, here's some random stuff we've encountered along the way:
Fish Amok
Now this does not refer to rioting seafood, but one of the staple dishes of Khmer cuisine. It's a curried stew of Cambodian veggies and whatever the local fish of choice happens to be. Up in Siem Reap, it's a fish from the Tonle Sap who's name I can neither spell nor pronounce. Down in Sihanoukville, it's barracuda. Sometimes it's served in the shell of a young coconut, others in a banana-leaf boat.
However it's done, it's always tasty. There's some debate over which version is the the best, but everyone, Phil in particular, has become a fan.
Traffic
Cambodian traffic is sort of a miracle to watch, particularly as someone in the position of passive participant. Vehicles move like schools of fish. There's an odd ebb and flow to their movements as they mesh and merge to avoid obstacles, accept new members. There don't seem to be any traffic laws per se (at least none that are obeyed), but there do seem to be a couple rules:
1) Mass always wins. For the most part larger vehicles. Smaller vehicles just sort of keep out of the way.
2) Just go. If you need to shift lanes, make a turn, or perform some more complicated maneuver, just go ahead and do it. People will get out your way. This rule applies to pedestrians crossing traffic too.
Other than that, it's semi-controlled chaos. Heck, it even makes Philly traffic look civilized.
The Lamborghini
Speaking of traffic, Brad, Meg and and I were riding in a tuk-tuk through Phnom Penh on the way to Choeung Ek. The rest of the group was in another tuk-tuk.
Brad, riding in the backward-facing seat, says, "You guys might not want to look back." Of course Meg and I both turn around immediately. Knifing through traffic on a direct course for our tuk-tuk is a jet-black Lamorghini -- a Murciélago, I believe, but I'm not an expert. It's moving extremely fast until, mere feet behind our little tuk-tuk, the driver jams on his brakes to avoid rear-ending us.
At the next gap in oncoming traffic, he veers left guns the engine and speeds by us, only to jam on his brakes about 100 yards on to avoiding plowing into a pack of motorbikes. He repeats this same set of actions until he's out of sight.
Poor guy, Cambodian traffic must be so frustrating for him.
The Escaping Bag
We were getting onto the bus in Phnom Penh ready to make our way down to the coast. The transportation stop was crowded and confused, so like the dutiful travellers we are, we kept a close eye on our bags. We each handed off our big bags to the bus line worker and watched as they were shoved into the compartment under the bus before boarding. We took our seats and I, not feeling overly well at the time, started to nod off against the window.
Suddenly, Meg shouted, "There goes your bag!" I open my eyes in time to see a man with my bag disappear around the front of the bus. Meg and Phil immediately jump up and run off the bus, followed by several agitated Cambodians. Still feeling a bit groggy, I wade through the crowd of excited locals now crowding the aisle to the door of the bus. As it turns out, the guy with my bag was one of the other bus company workers, moving my bag from one compartment to another. Oops.
The Mekong Bucket
At right, Brad with a Mekong Bucket.
All of the bars along the beach here offer a variation on a drink called The Mekong Bucket. As the name implies, this tasty concoction is served in a large container -- either one of those children's sand buckets or a small pitcher -- with a handful of straws to facilitate sharing.
The most common recipe includes a generous portion of whiskey, some Coca-Cola, a dose of Red Bull and a splash of fresh lime juice. Judging by taste, the proportions seems to vary from place to place, but all have been surprisingly good so far. We might have to have a Mekong Bucket party when we get back home.
The Snake House
I'll save that one for a later date.
It sounds like people have finally motivated themselves to move toward the beach, time for a swim -- the last before we head back to Phnom Penh tomorrow.
Enjoy.
Mailing Packages in Cambodia
Part of the excitement of traveling in foreign lands is figuring out how to conduct the most basic of business -- the sort of every day activities we all take for granted in the US, where roads look like roads and postal employees may be slow, but generally don't steal your stuff or add random amounts to the weight of your packages.
I went on a mad shopping spree in the Russian Market in Phnom Penh last week. I spent entirely too much time sitting on a tiny stool in the back of a market stall madly negotiating over the price of silk bags and otherChristmas presents. In the end, poor Eric was left carrying a huge bag of goodies, and I was left wondering how to heck to get this stuff home. Carrying an extra bag of junk through rural Laos during the rainy season -- especially when we'll be traveling on questionable boats under gray skies -- wasn't high on my to-do list. So back to the guesthouse I went to look up what the guidebook said about shipping boxes out of Cambodia.
Ooops, apparently I should have waited until Bangkok to do my shopping. Shipping from Cambodia is questionable and expensive. But hey, by the time I figured this out, I was lugging around a sack of presents and watching the sky for rain. I'd worked hard to get my neices fancy puppets, and said puppets were not going to ride in my backpack for another three weeks. So on Friday morning before we set off on the bus to the beach, Maya, Phil, Eric and I went on a quest to ship our shopping finds home. We braved crowded streets blocked off for the king's motorcade and a tuk-tuk driver who wasn't quite sure where we were going and seemed quite content to drive us all over the city with no gas in his tank (perhaps explaining why he was going 5 mph the entire way).
Eventually we reached the DHL office, which looked a lot like any other DHL office, but contained crazy women who didn't seem to understand why we were annoyed when they wanted to charge us for 5 kilos of weight when our package weighed 2 1/2 kilos. They told Maya that it was for "packaging," but that didn't make a lick of sense. And then the gigglingDHL ladies told us it would be cheaper if we had more weight. Maya and I took them up on the offer and threw everything we had ever contemplated shipping onto the scale. Not surprisingly, the women were insane, and the shipping cost went from $100 to $250. We decided that spending $250 to ship $100 of junk to the US wasn't a very prudent idea...so back to the tuk-tuk we went (annoyed husbands in tow).
That's when the real third-world shipping experience began. We drove to the post office, where we were sent from counter to counter then outside and around the corner-- then from counter to counter in the other part of the PO. Finally, I located the surface shipping counter and asked to purchase a box (as the Lonely Planet had assured me I could). The woman behind the counter told me that any box would cost $1, which I said was fine. She wandered to the back of the office and returned with a banana box -- I kid you now. It was a fruit box with no top and large holes throughout the sides. The bottom was soggy, and as if all of this wasn't enough, the box wasn't large enough to hold Maya's and my stuff. I tried to talk the woman out of another box, but she said that this box was my only option -- there were no other boxes at the post office.
By this point, Phil and Eric were hiding in a corner, and Maya was about to lose it. I told them to wait and wandered to the other end of the counter -- the air mail area. There I spotted a somewhat sad, but perfectly useful box. I pointed at it, and asked the ladies if I could have it. They were confused. I do believe it was their trashcan. They started to take the papers out of it, stopped, and walked away from me. I wasn't aboutto give up, so I followed them, pointed at the box, and asked again. Eventually two confused postal workers handed it over.
I returned to the other counter where the bananabox lady looked annoyed and confused. Boxes apparently are not supposed to appear when she's working on making a box sale!
I started shoving our belongings into the new,slightly soggy box...but then a random male worker appeared and demanded to look at what we were shipping.
Maya had purchased some soap for her aunt from a ritzy hotel in Siem Reap. Unfortunately, ritzy hotels do not put labels on their handmade soap, and this soap came in two-inch balls. Yep, nothing like balls of white soap wrapped in celophane to arouse suspicions at the PO. Maya and I tried to explain that the balls were soap -- I even did a demonstration of washing myself with one -- but that wasn't about to work. I finally convinced Maya to pocket the soap and ship everything else. I doubt US customs would have liked our soap either.
Then the PO employee noticed that Maya was trying to ship a little Buddha sculpture. He took the sculpture to a back room and had a large group of people examine it. He eventually returned with it and asked where we got it. Before Maya could say anything, I told him we bought it at the Russian Market for $5. Okay, so it was $20, but there is no way he could think it was some kind of relic if I only paid $5...so $5 it was for the purposes of that discussion. He frowned then put it in our box.
The woman handed over some tape -- reading ""Small Cambodia Package." I cut the box down to size and taped the hell out of it, praying the entire time that the semi-soggy cardboard would somehow hold up enough to get my stuff back to the States.
We were almost home free!
The woman took the package to the back room to weight it. She returned and told us it weighed 10 kilos. Maya started to throw a fit because we knew it couldn't weight more than 7.5. I grabed her by the arm and pointed out that the difference in shipping cost was $5 and that we should eat that if we ever hoped to see her Buddha again.
I paid for our 10 kilos, and our little soggy box headed off into the world of Cambodia surface shipping. It's supposed to arrive in Lansdowne in 2-3 months. I give it 70-30 odds, and I do believe I'm being generous. Anyone care to start a package pool?
I went on a mad shopping spree in the Russian Market in Phnom Penh last week. I spent entirely too much time sitting on a tiny stool in the back of a market stall madly negotiating over the price of silk bags and otherChristmas presents. In the end, poor Eric was left carrying a huge bag of goodies, and I was left wondering how to heck to get this stuff home. Carrying an extra bag of junk through rural Laos during the rainy season -- especially when we'll be traveling on questionable boats under gray skies -- wasn't high on my to-do list. So back to the guesthouse I went to look up what the guidebook said about shipping boxes out of Cambodia.
Ooops, apparently I should have waited until Bangkok to do my shopping. Shipping from Cambodia is questionable and expensive. But hey, by the time I figured this out, I was lugging around a sack of presents and watching the sky for rain. I'd worked hard to get my neices fancy puppets, and said puppets were not going to ride in my backpack for another three weeks. So on Friday morning before we set off on the bus to the beach, Maya, Phil, Eric and I went on a quest to ship our shopping finds home. We braved crowded streets blocked off for the king's motorcade and a tuk-tuk driver who wasn't quite sure where we were going and seemed quite content to drive us all over the city with no gas in his tank (perhaps explaining why he was going 5 mph the entire way).
Eventually we reached the DHL office, which looked a lot like any other DHL office, but contained crazy women who didn't seem to understand why we were annoyed when they wanted to charge us for 5 kilos of weight when our package weighed 2 1/2 kilos. They told Maya that it was for "packaging," but that didn't make a lick of sense. And then the gigglingDHL ladies told us it would be cheaper if we had more weight. Maya and I took them up on the offer and threw everything we had ever contemplated shipping onto the scale. Not surprisingly, the women were insane, and the shipping cost went from $100 to $250. We decided that spending $250 to ship $100 of junk to the US wasn't a very prudent idea...so back to the tuk-tuk we went (annoyed husbands in tow).
That's when the real third-world shipping experience began. We drove to the post office, where we were sent from counter to counter then outside and around the corner-- then from counter to counter in the other part of the PO. Finally, I located the surface shipping counter and asked to purchase a box (as the Lonely Planet had assured me I could). The woman behind the counter told me that any box would cost $1, which I said was fine. She wandered to the back of the office and returned with a banana box -- I kid you now. It was a fruit box with no top and large holes throughout the sides. The bottom was soggy, and as if all of this wasn't enough, the box wasn't large enough to hold Maya's and my stuff. I tried to talk the woman out of another box, but she said that this box was my only option -- there were no other boxes at the post office.
By this point, Phil and Eric were hiding in a corner, and Maya was about to lose it. I told them to wait and wandered to the other end of the counter -- the air mail area. There I spotted a somewhat sad, but perfectly useful box. I pointed at it, and asked the ladies if I could have it. They were confused. I do believe it was their trashcan. They started to take the papers out of it, stopped, and walked away from me. I wasn't aboutto give up, so I followed them, pointed at the box, and asked again. Eventually two confused postal workers handed it over.
I returned to the other counter where the bananabox lady looked annoyed and confused. Boxes apparently are not supposed to appear when she's working on making a box sale!
I started shoving our belongings into the new,slightly soggy box...but then a random male worker appeared and demanded to look at what we were shipping.
Maya had purchased some soap for her aunt from a ritzy hotel in Siem Reap. Unfortunately, ritzy hotels do not put labels on their handmade soap, and this soap came in two-inch balls. Yep, nothing like balls of white soap wrapped in celophane to arouse suspicions at the PO. Maya and I tried to explain that the balls were soap -- I even did a demonstration of washing myself with one -- but that wasn't about to work. I finally convinced Maya to pocket the soap and ship everything else. I doubt US customs would have liked our soap either.
Then the PO employee noticed that Maya was trying to ship a little Buddha sculpture. He took the sculpture to a back room and had a large group of people examine it. He eventually returned with it and asked where we got it. Before Maya could say anything, I told him we bought it at the Russian Market for $5. Okay, so it was $20, but there is no way he could think it was some kind of relic if I only paid $5...so $5 it was for the purposes of that discussion. He frowned then put it in our box.
The woman handed over some tape -- reading ""Small Cambodia Package." I cut the box down to size and taped the hell out of it, praying the entire time that the semi-soggy cardboard would somehow hold up enough to get my stuff back to the States.
We were almost home free!
The woman took the package to the back room to weight it. She returned and told us it weighed 10 kilos. Maya started to throw a fit because we knew it couldn't weight more than 7.5. I grabed her by the arm and pointed out that the difference in shipping cost was $5 and that we should eat that if we ever hoped to see her Buddha again.
I paid for our 10 kilos, and our little soggy box headed off into the world of Cambodia surface shipping. It's supposed to arrive in Lansdowne in 2-3 months. I give it 70-30 odds, and I do believe I'm being generous. Anyone care to start a package pool?
Wednesday, August 8, 2007
A Walk in the Jungle
Today we took an excursion into the Preah Sihanouk National Park, also known as Ream National Park for reasons I don't quite comprehend. We were shuttled from our guesthouse to one of the other guesthouses in town for a "continental breakfast" (baguette, butter, jam & honey, coffee & tea) then whisked to the park by minibus. The tour itself started with a boat ride down the Prek Tuk Sap. The riverbank was dotted with fishing huts and there were a few boats out on the river net fishing and oystering. It was really quite lovely.
Things turned a bit more interesting as we approached the small fishing village near the mouth of the river. I had watched one of the other boats in our group as it approached and pulled up to a pier at the far end of the village. It turned out our pilot had other ideas. The next thing we know there's a whump strong enough to make the whole boat shudder -- a pretty distinctive sign that the boat's keel has just struck ground.
The first attempt didn't quite stick us, so we had four or five more before the boat became well and truly stuck it the sand about 50 yards from shore. The boat immediately started rocking violently, so we all hopped out and made our way to the beach. The rotund old French man on our boat did an impressive job of rapidly stripping down to his speedo for the trip.
We spent about 30 or 40 minutes walking through some dense jungle. Unfortunately, there was not much wildlife to be seen along the walk -- our tour group was making enough noise to scare off the bravest of creatures. We were rewarded with a beautiful beach and a nice swim at the end of our walk.
After the swim, we hiked back to the fishing village where a lunch of grilled barracuda steaks, slaw and baguettes was waiting for us. There was mass confusion at the food hut, meaning we had to walk the rickety pier repeatedly, but the food was tasty so it was worth it in the end.
During the ride back up the river the sky opened up on us, dumping an unbelievable amount of rain on us in a very short time. Today was the day that proved the waterproof camera was a wise investment. Thanks to Sarah and Calvin for the tip.
Time for a swim and a Mekong Bucket. Enjoy.
Monday, August 6, 2007
Sihanoukville
We've made it down to Sihanoukville on the Cambodian coast where we'll be till the end of the week. It should be a welcome change of pace from the physically, mentally and emotionally draining experience of Phnom Penh. We're staying in a cozy little place right across from the beach. We were hoping to stay right on the beach, but the only places directly on the beaches are bars. Oh well, what are you going to do.
So far the biggest downside here has been the rain. It's rainy season, so we were expecting it, but we hadn't seen any real rain till we got down here. It was absolutely pouring when the bus pulled in, which made the whole process of getting our bags and finding a car taxi interesting (their was no "inside" at the bus station). Somehow we were able to cram all six of us and all of our baggage into an early '90s Toyota Camry -- an amzing feat of packing by our driver.
The rain let up long enoungh for us to go for a walk on the beach and find a little beach bar to grab dinner and drinks, but as soon as we got back to our rooms it picked up again and rained all night. There were a couple times during the night where it seemed like we might float away.
It's not raining now, so that means it's time to hit the beach. At some point, either tomorrow or the next day, weé going to try to take a day trip into the Ream National Park to look for fishing cats.
Enjoy.
Sunday, August 5, 2007
Palaces, prisons and graves
Phnom Penh offers a mixed bag. On the one hand, you have the grandeur expected of a capitol city -- a magnificent Royal Palace, the national museum and a number of historical sites. On the other hand, the Khmer Rouge years were particularly tough on the city, devastating its infrastructure (it still hasn't fully recovered) and leaving signs of the regime's mass murders everywhere.
The sprawling Royal Palace complex is beautiful, if a bit worn around the edges. In particular, Preah Vihear Preah Keo Morakot (aka the Silver Pagoda) was amazing. The building received its nickname from the thousands of silver tiles covering its floor. Hundreds of representations of the Buddha crowd the interior. Unfortunately, strict "no photos" rules prevented me from capturing any of it on film (or card anyway).
It's hard to put into words the feeling of walking around Choeung Ek, the largest of the Khmer Rouge killing fields. So far, only two thirds of the mass graves at the site have been excavated -- revealing the remains of almost 9,000 people. According to our tour guide, almost every heavy rain reveals more bone fragments or shreds of clothing. Many of the prisoners executed at Choeung Ek were brought to the site from Tuol Sleng, a former high school in the south of Phnom Penh, converted to a prison by the Khmer Rouge.
Tomorrow, we head for Sihanoukville and the coast. Yay, for buses.
Saturday, August 4, 2007
Phnom Penh
Sorry for the delay in posts, we've had a couple of hectic days.
We arrived in Phnom Penh yesterday afternoon. The bus ride down from Siem Reap was pleasant enough -- about as pleasant as a six-hour bus ride can be, I guess. The countryside doesn't change much during the trip, it's mainly rice paddies and sugar palms the whole way.
Our arrival in Phnom Penh was ... uh, a little less than auspicious. It started out well enough -- our guest house sent a van to pick us up at the bus station -- but once we arrived at the guest house things took a turn for the worse. The woman running the place told us there were no open rooms, but that her cousin's place around the corner had open rooms. The girl who had taken our reservation claimed that people were supposed to have been leaving that day, but missed their bus. Of course that only accounted for two rooms, not the three we'd requested.
They convinced us to get back into the van to ride around the corner (or down the skeevy alley, then around the corner as it turned out) to the Royal Hiness (sic) Hotel. Phil, Brad and I ran in and poked are heads into a couple rooms, which looked good enough at a glance. How wrong we were. After checking in (and paying for the first night in advance), we started to notice some issues. First off were the bathrooms -- each one had it's own unique issue. In ours, the room's air conditioner drained its condensation straight onto the floor, meaning the floor in their was wet and ripe.
On the way out to dinner, we noticed an older Westerner (didn't get the accent to well, he was either British or Aussie) playing pool in the lobby with a much younger Cambodian woman. About the same time we noticed the odd couple we started noticing other things -- the flier in the lobby/bar advertising the "Roaring Temple" (a concoction of vodka, fruit punch, RedBull and Viagra) and the hotels posted rules that banned prostitution, but allowed guests to bring "visitors" to their rooms for $20. At this point we decided it would be best to bail. Unfortunately, since we paid for one night, and the folks behind the counter weren't about to relinquish our first night's cash, we had to stick it out for the night. First thing this morning though, we found a nicer place nearby that was more than willing to extract us from Her Hiness.
We spent the rest of the morning at National Museum and intend to visit the Royal Palace and Silver Pagoda after lunch. I'll try to post later today with some pictures.
Enjoy.
We arrived in Phnom Penh yesterday afternoon. The bus ride down from Siem Reap was pleasant enough -- about as pleasant as a six-hour bus ride can be, I guess. The countryside doesn't change much during the trip, it's mainly rice paddies and sugar palms the whole way.
Our arrival in Phnom Penh was ... uh, a little less than auspicious. It started out well enough -- our guest house sent a van to pick us up at the bus station -- but once we arrived at the guest house things took a turn for the worse. The woman running the place told us there were no open rooms, but that her cousin's place around the corner had open rooms. The girl who had taken our reservation claimed that people were supposed to have been leaving that day, but missed their bus. Of course that only accounted for two rooms, not the three we'd requested.
They convinced us to get back into the van to ride around the corner (or down the skeevy alley, then around the corner as it turned out) to the Royal Hiness (sic) Hotel. Phil, Brad and I ran in and poked are heads into a couple rooms, which looked good enough at a glance. How wrong we were. After checking in (and paying for the first night in advance), we started to notice some issues. First off were the bathrooms -- each one had it's own unique issue. In ours, the room's air conditioner drained its condensation straight onto the floor, meaning the floor in their was wet and ripe.
On the way out to dinner, we noticed an older Westerner (didn't get the accent to well, he was either British or Aussie) playing pool in the lobby with a much younger Cambodian woman. About the same time we noticed the odd couple we started noticing other things -- the flier in the lobby/bar advertising the "Roaring Temple" (a concoction of vodka, fruit punch, RedBull and Viagra) and the hotels posted rules that banned prostitution, but allowed guests to bring "visitors" to their rooms for $20. At this point we decided it would be best to bail. Unfortunately, since we paid for one night, and the folks behind the counter weren't about to relinquish our first night's cash, we had to stick it out for the night. First thing this morning though, we found a nicer place nearby that was more than willing to extract us from Her Hiness.
We spent the rest of the morning at National Museum and intend to visit the Royal Palace and Silver Pagoda after lunch. I'll try to post later today with some pictures.
Enjoy.
Tuesday, July 31, 2007
Temples, temples and more temples
In an attempt to put some of the conspiracy theories to rest, I've finally found an internet cafe where I could upload a few pictures. Of course, my connection here is slower than Ben working arithmatic, so I won't be posting too many just yet.
We've had an ambitious couple of days of temple viewing. We started Monday with Angkor Thom and the temples within -- Bayon, Bapuon, the Elephant and Leper King Terrraces -- then moved on to Angkor Wat. Tuesday we finished off Angkor Wat and also saw Bakheng and Ta Prohm. The temples are spectacular. Any human being interested in the world outside their own home should see them at some point in their life.
Angkor Wat is amazing in its size and scope. Almost every surface is covered with carvings depicting elements of the Hindu and Buddhist religions. Ta Prohm is simply beautiful. For centuries the jungle has been working to swallow the ruins there. For good or bad, the Angkor preservation folks have built wooden paths throughout the Ta Prohm complex, making it more accessible and thus more crowded.
Alright, time for breakfast and more temples. Today we'll hit Bateay Srei and perhaps the Roluos complex.
Enjoy.
Sunday, July 29, 2007
Seam Reap
Cambodia is beautiful from the air. As we were flying in to Seam Reap yesterday we had a nice view of the area around Tonle Sap, the huge freshwater lake that takes up a large chunk of the northwest of the country. Everything was lush and green, almost uninhabited until we got closer to the city.
A couple of guys from the hotel were waiting with tuk-tuks to take us into the city. The local variant of the tuk-tuk is a motor scooter with a covered trailer that sort of looks like an old rickshaw on the back. Two to four people can comfortably ride in one if a couple don't mind facing backward, but I swear we saw about a dozen Khmer hanging off of one on the way in from the airport.
We decided to keep things mellow for a bit -- 2 days of solid travel will do that to you. We did walk down to Psar Chas, the old market, and wandered about for a bit. The place is dark and cramped. Crammed full of vendors selling everything from t-shirts and photocopied guidebooks to large chunks of dead animal.
After that, we took a tuk-tuk up to the Grand Hotel d'Angkor in the city center to get tickets for dinner and a traditional Khmer dance tonight. We wandered around the Royal Gardens. the whole area smelled of incense and rang with music from the Temple of Preah Ang Chek and Preah Ang Chom and the Shrine to Ya Tep nearby. We couldn't get to close because it was prayer time and the places were packed with people, but we'll be going back.
Today we'll be starting in on the big temples outside the city -- Bayon and Angkor, I believe.
Still no pictures yet, but I swear I'm shooting them.
Today we'll be starting in on the temples -- Bayon and Angkor, I believe. Gotta run.
Enjoy.
A couple of guys from the hotel were waiting with tuk-tuks to take us into the city. The local variant of the tuk-tuk is a motor scooter with a covered trailer that sort of looks like an old rickshaw on the back. Two to four people can comfortably ride in one if a couple don't mind facing backward, but I swear we saw about a dozen Khmer hanging off of one on the way in from the airport.
We decided to keep things mellow for a bit -- 2 days of solid travel will do that to you. We did walk down to Psar Chas, the old market, and wandered about for a bit. The place is dark and cramped. Crammed full of vendors selling everything from t-shirts and photocopied guidebooks to large chunks of dead animal.
After that, we took a tuk-tuk up to the Grand Hotel d'Angkor in the city center to get tickets for dinner and a traditional Khmer dance tonight. We wandered around the Royal Gardens. the whole area smelled of incense and rang with music from the Temple of Preah Ang Chek and Preah Ang Chom and the Shrine to Ya Tep nearby. We couldn't get to close because it was prayer time and the places were packed with people, but we'll be going back.
Today we'll be starting in on the big temples outside the city -- Bayon and Angkor, I believe.
Still no pictures yet, but I swear I'm shooting them.
Today we'll be starting in on the temples -- Bayon and Angkor, I believe. Gotta run.
Enjoy.
Saturday, July 28, 2007
Bangkok
We've made it to Bangkok without to much incident. Meg's flight from SFO down to LA was delayed a couple hours, so I got to spend some time hanging out in LAX. Not as nice as I remember it being. Of course, when I was younger all it took to impress me was some Haggen Dazs. Now it's just sort of old, dirty and under renovation everywhere you look.
Lucie and Richie picked us up and took us to a seafood restaurant down in Newport Beach. Good food, outdoor seating on a beautiful day and a chance to catch up with friends. Very nice.
We got back to the airport around 7:00 and met up with Brad and Jenn a little while later. The check in line was massive and the airline only seemed to have a couple people working at any given time, so it took forever. We did manage to take in a college student from Florida though. She got into the line at the same time as us, but in a state of total panic. She thought she was late getting there had had problems with her rental car, and this was her first time travelling alone, let alone to a foreign country alone.
Our flight was delayed a bit. We could never figure out why, because all of the announcements were unintelligible. The flight, once we finally got on board, wasn't quite as bad as I thought. Though 17 hours is a very long time to spend in a plane. The seats were just uncomfortable enough to wake you up after a couple hours of dozing, but they fed us three times (Meg and Jenn had requested vegetarian food, so they took that to mean Brad and I wanted veg as well), and there were video games and movies in the seat back sets to pass the remaining time.
So now we're here at the new Suvarnabhumi Airport in Bangkok, hanging out in the posh Bangkok Airways lounge waiting for the flight to Seam Reap. The airport here is a definite improvement over LA. Clean, beautiful spaces, very wide open, with the exposed skeleton that seems to be in vogue these days. We've got a couple of hours until the next flight (Yay! more time on the plane) so we might do a little exploring. I'll post pictures when I can (no exposed USB ports on this machine).
Enjoy.
Lucie and Richie picked us up and took us to a seafood restaurant down in Newport Beach. Good food, outdoor seating on a beautiful day and a chance to catch up with friends. Very nice.
We got back to the airport around 7:00 and met up with Brad and Jenn a little while later. The check in line was massive and the airline only seemed to have a couple people working at any given time, so it took forever. We did manage to take in a college student from Florida though. She got into the line at the same time as us, but in a state of total panic. She thought she was late getting there had had problems with her rental car, and this was her first time travelling alone, let alone to a foreign country alone.
Our flight was delayed a bit. We could never figure out why, because all of the announcements were unintelligible. The flight, once we finally got on board, wasn't quite as bad as I thought. Though 17 hours is a very long time to spend in a plane. The seats were just uncomfortable enough to wake you up after a couple hours of dozing, but they fed us three times (Meg and Jenn had requested vegetarian food, so they took that to mean Brad and I wanted veg as well), and there were video games and movies in the seat back sets to pass the remaining time.
So now we're here at the new Suvarnabhumi Airport in Bangkok, hanging out in the posh Bangkok Airways lounge waiting for the flight to Seam Reap. The airport here is a definite improvement over LA. Clean, beautiful spaces, very wide open, with the exposed skeleton that seems to be in vogue these days. We've got a couple of hours until the next flight (Yay! more time on the plane) so we might do a little exploring. I'll post pictures when I can (no exposed USB ports on this machine).
Enjoy.
Friday, July 27, 2007
Ready to go!
Bags are packed and by the door. House is clean (mostly). I'm ready to go.
The taxi shows up at 7:45 a.m. to take me to the airport — the beginning of our five week Asian adventure.
Tomorrow I fly to LA to meet up with Meg where we'll spend the afternoon with friends. Then it's back to LAX, find Brad and Jenn (our old pals from Columbus) and onto a non-stop flight to Bangkok. We arrive Sunday morning and our Philly friends, Phil and Maya, will catch up with us that afternoon. Because traveling half way around the world isn't quite enough time on a plane, we'll hop a flight to Siem Reap, Cambodia, later that afternoon.
Things will start to slow down then. We'll spend a few days in the Siem Reap/Angkor Wat area touring the temple complexes in the area. From there we'll head to the capital, Phnom Penh. There we'll visit the Killing Fields of Choeung Ek, more wats and see the Silver Pagoda.
After Phnom Penh, the itinerary becomes a little more vague. The plan is to head up the Mekong toward Kratie, home of the Irrawadi Dolphins, then up into Laos with the eventual goal of Vientiane, or maybe Louangphrabang. There might be a trip to Sihanoukville on the Cambodian coast before the Mekong trip, but we'll see.
After Laos it will probably be time to find a beach with good diving and tasty beverages near at hand.
We'll be back in the States just in time for the Labor Day.
Folks have been asking for updates along the way so, in what may be an exercise in naive futility, I'll be attempting to keep a record of the trip here. I can't promise updates everyday, but I'll post as frequently as possible and include pictures when possible.
Enjoy.
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