Home at last

March 24, 2009

Well, surprise! I'm home in Ridgefield, Connecticut. It's not that much of a surprise, really. I've been home a week.

I've been meaning to write a conclusion to this blog, but it's been a struggle to come up with some wonderful moral of the story to sign out on. I've never been good with endings.

The problem is, there is no conclusion. There is no big lesson. I left home thinking travel would help me figure out what I want to do with my life, where I want to live, what I want to be when I grow up. But it did just the opposite. It opened up a whole new world of possibilities.

I had been planning to keep going until May, head back down to the Thai Islands, then explore Hong Kong and China. But after getting back to Bangkok after a big loop through northern Thailand, Laos and Cambodia, I found that I just didn't have it in me to take another overnight bus ride, or adjust to a new language or figure out a new exchange rate. I hit a big wall and got stalled in Asia's sweaty, hot City of Lights.

Sleepless in Bangkok, I started getting in touch with family members, friends and former colleagues at home. I was testing the waters for a return. Could I get my job back at the newspaper company in this awful economic climate? Did I even want to return to that? Could I move to New York and get a job there? Should I just take off again?

I knew I wanted to come home, at least for a little while. I wanted comfort. Travel is exciting but uncomfortable.

What I decided finally is that this isn't the end of my travels. I'm already off next week to return to Greece to pick up that job DJing in Corfu for part of the summer. Big move up in the world: newspaper editor to DJ at a youth hostel. Sorry, DJ's assistant. Even better.

The move back to Europe is to bide my time a little through this summer. The fact is, Greece is the only place in the world where I have a set job. A return to Europe will also allow me to reconnect with many of the friends I made early on in the trip.

Home is strange. There is also a new topic of conversation floating around amongst a large percentage of my friends: Settling down. I listened to a group of my girlfriends talking the other night about the merits of white versus yellow gold wedding rings, picking out a signature drink to match their bridal colors and buying houses in good school districts. I had nothing to say. And I didn't want to bring up my trip. Instead, like in much of the rest of the world, I sat back and observed. When one of my friends called for us to throw in some extra money to tip our waitress, I handed over some Cambodian riel and walked out.

But besides that, home is strange because the familiar become unusual when you're used to the unfamiliar. But how easy it is to slip back into old habits, to pick up the same conversations. Right now I'm torn up inside about leaving again. There seems to be some unfinished business here.

But as I said before, I've never been good at finishing much of anything.

Angkor wow

March 20, 2009

FInally, here are my photos from Angkor Wat.

Bug spray

March 13, 2009

For the past six weeks or so I have been doused in mosquito repellent. It is my one line of defense against malaria. I said to hell with the pills. I don't want scary nightmares or hallucinations.

I have a love/hate relationship with bug spray. I'm getting sick of this greesy, chemical smell. When ever I spray it on, I just feel dirty. But, at the same time, this smell and this feel carries with it some nostalgia. It carries with it memories of summer camp and firefly chasing.

It's cool to think that in the future, it will also remind me of the Mekong River, the beaches of Cambodia, and these hot, sweaty nights around Khao San Road in Bangkok. I just saw an elephant walk down Soi Rambootri.

I already feel wistful about this trip and I'm still on it.

Visions of Laos

March 13, 2009

I just purchased a laptop in Bangkok, an item I've been going crazy without for the past 6 and a half months. This blog could've benefited much more if I had a computer with me on long bus trips and during down time from all the sight seeing and the general cultural enrichment.

So, I've finally had a look at all the photos I've taken since India, back in October. Thought I'd show y'all some of the places I've sort of breezed over in the past few weeks.

Laos is a beautiful, vibrant, slow-paced country. The gentle, green Mekong is the lifeblood of the country. Monks draped in saffron robes roam the streets of the cities. Laos is a land of waterfalls and Asian black bears which are much smaller than their North American cousins. They also have manes, like lions.

The little, dusty village of Vang Vieng is a must-stop for the younger backpacker crowd. The draw: tubing down a subsidiary of the Mekong and being roped in (literally) by Lao people at riverside bars, then drinking, dancing, and trapezing back into the river to float to the next drinking establishment. The only problem with this town, beside the yearly casualties of tubing (and people do die from this activity), is that about one in four people get food poisoning while there. I was one such case.

Though I've no photos of it, the capital city of Vientiane is another stop on the trail to Vietnam or Cambodia. It was frightfully hot while I was there. I spent my few days in the city recovering from food poisoning moving from air-conditioned cafe to air-conditioned Internet cafe to air-conditioned museum. Then I continued the journey southward.

The last photos are of a place in southern Laos called 4,000 Islands. This was one of my favorite stops. Many of the islands in the Mekong have only gotten electricity in the past three years. Lao people spend much of the day lazing in hammocks in the shade under their houses built on stilts near the riverside. Though mentioned in the Lonely Planet, this place still feels like it hasn't fully been discovered. In a few years, though, it might just become another Vang Vieng.

Too hot to think

March 13, 2009

I have been meaning to blog for ages, but since arriving back in Bangkok, I've felt like the walking dead. It is so hot here. It's too hot to eat. Too hot to think. Too hot to sleep.

I don't even have the brain power to load photos. That takes time, but little effort, and yet, I can't bring myself to sit in front a computer for long periods of time watching files upload. I will take you back to Laos and to the temples of Angkor and to the Killing Fields and to the lovely beaches of Sihanoukville, as soon as I can get some sleep and inspiration.

Mugged

March 7, 2009

Today I was mugged.

I'm in Sihanoukville, a Cambodian beach town on the Gulf of Thailand. It's beautiful here. I've spent the past several days here relaxing on a big, white, empty beach, lolling on a sun chair sipping banana shakes. After a week of heavy sightseeing at Angkor Wat and in the busy capital city, Phenom Penh, this place has just been serenity.

This afternoon I was walking back along the main road in town having dropped off a bicycle I rented for a few days. I've had several people warn me about taking care to watch my bags because young men on motorbikes have been known to ride up next to unsuspecting tourists and just tear or cut the bags off people and drive away into the night. While bike riding yesterday with a South African girl I met on the bus from Phenom Pehn, I noticed she was getting hassled by two young men on a motorbike. I passed along the warning and the two of us stopped pedaling and took a detour to avoid the boys who were driving suspiciously slowly around us. We lost them without incident. I felt like a savvy traveler, looking out for my fellows on the road.

Well today walking along this busy street, watching the clouds turn a deep blue as the sun set, I was just thinking about how much I love Cambodia, how it has been one of my favorite stops, and how the people have all been so kind.

To steal a phrase from Divine Secrets of the Ya Ya Sisterhood (a great beach read, btw), just as these pretty pink and blue thoughts were floating about my head, I felt a tug at the back of my shirt. Before I realized what was going on, a young thug riding on the back of his buddy's motorcycle ripped my small money bag right off my body. It happened in a split second. I had no time to react.

I feel really stupid having received all these warnings and even spreading the news to others. I'm angry too, though not as much as I would have expected. I only lost cash, and I think just $30 at that. For having been on the road for more than 200 days, I feel lucky that an incident like this hasn't happened sooner.

When I was in college in Montreal, I was robbed multiple times. Car stolen, bike stolen, bag of shoes stolen from the back of a van during a move. My boyfriend at the time also had his car broken into twice in the four years he visited me. So I'm no stranger to this shitty, sinking, humanity-hating feeling you get when you've just been ripped off.

But I still love Cambodia. I love the people and am fascinated by the history and the culture. Oh, and the food is to die for. If any of you reading this happen upon a Khmer restaurant, order the Fish Amok. It's divine.

I feel like traveling has made me a more accepting person. This is not the worst thing in the world. I'll get over it. By the time I got back to my hostel not 15 minutes after the incident, I felt OK about it. One cigarette and a stiff vodka pineapple helped. I accepted what happened and shrugged it away.

Still, thank god I didn't have my camera on me.

Cambodia, a history lesson

Feb. 24, 2009

I'm back from watching this horrible documentary on the Pol Pot Regime. Though the subject matter in itself was horrific, the French-made film was of such such poor quality it was laughable, which makes it all even more depressing. That aside, the film offered a crash course in modern Cambodian history.

So from what I gathered, here's a brief history:

Cambodia broke free of colonial French rule in the mid 1950s and instated a then 19-year-old prince as king of the land. Prince Sihanouk kept the country stable for about 17 years, declaring it neutral during the American war with neighboring Vietnam. However, the North Vietnamese Army began smuggling in weapons through the jungles of northern Cambodia and parts of Laos leading President Nixon to begin a bombing campaign in those parts. Prince Sihanouk condemned the bombing, still maintaining Cambodia's neutrality to the war.

Then some stuff happened. The film narrator said it all so fast it was hard to follow. Lots of Cambodians were killed by American bombs. There was plenty of internal political strife in the country. Sihanouk retreated (or was forcibly taken, not really sure) to Beijing where he remained for several years as new leaders struggled for power. Among them was Communist-leaning Saloth Sar, later known as Pol Pot, who led an insurgency, the Khmer Rouge, under the Communist Party of Kampuchea (CPK). But it was American-backed General Lon Nol who formed a new government by coup.

During this time, the Khmer Rouge, which consisted mainly of boys 15 years of age and younger from villages around the country, were stepping up the pressure on Lol Non, aiming their attacks mainly at the capital in Phnom Pehn. Despite American air strikes on the insurgency, the Khmer Rouge managed to take over the capital.

Many rejoiced at the victory of the Khmer Rouge, but the celebration was short-lived. On the same day the insurgency did away with the Lol Non government, marching through the streets of Phnom Pehn, the new victors, young men all dressed in black, proclaimed that the city must be evacuated.

"Leave immediately," the Khmer Rouge officers said. "The Americans are planning to bomb the city. You will return in 3 to 4 days. Leave your doors opened. We will watch over your belongings."

From this point further, most of my history actually comes from Stay Alive, My Son, a first hand account by Pin Yathay of his own escape from the Killing Fields.

The city people were ordered to move onto farms set up by Pol Pot to begin a new type of society. It was based on ideals of simple villages, where the work of the individual is meant to benefit the whole community. It was supposed to be a completely egalitarian society, however the Khmer Rouge enforced this idea of equality by executing those who were seen as revolutionaries which included the doctors, the teachers, anyone learned, anyone seen as too strong, too self-righteous, too much of an individual. Thousands of people died during the evacuation, or later on the farms of disease or of starvation. Yathay saw more than a dozen members of his own family die before he and his wife made the decision to try to flee to Thailand, making the heartbreaking decision to leave their surviving six-year-old son behind.

(I'm realizing now this history lesson isn't as brief as I meant it to be. Cambodia has been fascinating to me, and I've only been here a day.)

To wrap up, the film stated that the Pol Pot regime self-destructed in 1979. The leaders enforced a massive wave of torture and execution fueled by internal paranoia which ended up diminishing the regime itself. The country then wallowed through a decade of occupation then by the Vietnamese. There was a mass exodus of Cambodians displaced by the Pol Pot Regime to Thailand. The international community at this point began to take notice of the situation and began relief efforts.

Then in 1991, the UN took over the situation instituting a cease-fire and the repopulation of the country. That's as far as I know. Some of this information, I have to admit, was aided by Wikipedia. Though the history listed on that site is much more thorough than mine, it's also notably pro-American slanted.

Anyway, wow. What a story. I came out of watching the documentary with my mind spinning, mostly because I was trying to figure out what the French filmmaker had said at all. But a walk down the bustling and brightly lit Pub Street in Siem Reap has spoken volumes as to how far the country has come since the UN came in just 17 years ago.

When I started on this trip, Cambodia was not even considered among the countries I wanted to visit. Granted, I knew very little about the place. Cambodia equaled land mine-zone to me. But this city is bustling with tourists. I know many young travelers who stated that Cambodia had been their favorite stop. And yet, I still must remind myself, I've only yet seen where the tourists go. Despite the new wealth here, there are street children and amputees everywhere.

Well, phew. This is the first time I've been inspired to write in a long time. This place must have struck some kind of chord in me.

Tomorrow I visit Ankhor Wat. That should make for some amazing photos. Unfortunately, my camera lens is broken. Six months of travel has taken its toll on my equipment. I can still take photos, but it's trickier now with a lens that doesn't open as wide as before, and no more auto-focus. Ahhh well...

Much more soon.

A hasty hello from Cambodia

Feb. 24, 2009

Hello from Siem Reap. I write this greeting with haste because in another fifteen minutes I'm off to watch a documentary on the Pol Pot Regime and the genocide that he oversaw in Cambodia during the mid to late 1970s.

I left the lovely, slow-paced country of Laos this morning taking a short flight from Pakse. It's hot here and quite dusty, a little reminiscent of some of the cities in northern India, though not nearly as frenetic or polluted. My initial impression of this city is that it is more modern than expected. The people so far have struck me as kind, much like the Laotians, though there is a distinctly higher level of pressure put on the tourists here by the tuk tuk drivers and the women selling goods in the market.

What is also striking is how young the population is. I have yet to see a local over the age of 35. According to American journalist Karen J. Coates in her moving book Cambodia Now, as of 2003 roughly 50% of the country's population was under the age of 19.

I'm off now to go watch this documentary and learn more about why that is the case.

The happy temple

Feb. 19, 2008

After returning to Chiang Mai from our three day jungle trek, Julie and I decided to spend a day exploring some of the sites around the city. We rented motorbikes and drove a windy 30 kilometers up Doi Suthep, the lush mountain that serves as the backdrop for the city, to the Wat Phrathat Doi Suthep itself.

The relic of the temple, a bone of the Buddha, was erected by a 12th century king who carried it on a white elephant. The place that the elephant stopped was where the king built the pagoda where the temple now stands.

I've seen many a wat since arriving in Thailand, and I have to say this one was by far my favorite. The place high on the hill overlooking the city of Chiang Mai is filled with positive energy. The place is filled with shining golden Buddhas and bells that glint in the sunlight. All the visitors, tourists and Thais alike, circle the place in placid though not dour deference. All the monks seemed to be smiling.

It was a place of holy happiness.

Most beautiful toilet

Feb. 17, 2009

The Sphinx, the Great Wall, the Taj Mahal are tokens compared to this gem we came across at Doi Inthenan in Thailand.

Thai jungle trek

Feb. 17, 2009

Two and a half weeks ago, Julie, my American friend, and I signed up for a three day, two night jungle trek. We were grouped together with two young German guys and spent the nights in local Karen villages high in the hills of Northern Thailand.

On the first day we visited Doi Inthenan, a stupa located at the highest point in Thailand at 2,142 meters. That's like a sand dune compared to the hills Julie and I climbed out of in Nepal. Nevertheless, the temple was gorgeous surrounded by blossoming gardens.

Later that afternoon, the four of us were led through the forest to a small village where the locals were finishing up their celebration of the Karen New Year. We all received simple string bracelets not to be removed for at least three days for good luck in the new year. So long as it doesn't get too dirty, mine will be stuck on me well passed the time that I come home to Connecticut. I still have a string bracelet I received during a Hindu blessing in Pushkar from back on Election Day. (I think the blessings of good luck and good health went to Barack Obama and not me that day as I was later laid out with a bad bout of food poisoning.)

The next morning, we headed out through the bamboo jungle passed waterfalls and through arid, terraced rice fields to go elephant riding. I felt bad for the creature, which lumbered slowly in the heat of the day. Julie and I agreed that riding in the back of a pickup truck to the launch point of our trek was far more exciting.

On our last day, which happened to be my 25h birthday, we were taken bamboo rafting. Local children sitting along the riversides washing elephants cheered and splashed us as we floated by.

It was a very cool and different way to celebrate a quarter century.

Travel dreams

Feb. 14, 2008

Oh my Buddha, what a month it's been. I have only a few minutes now to write anything as I'm waiting to board a bus to Vang Vieng from Luang Prabang.

I left northern Thailand five days ago via a two day boat ride down the Mekong into Laos. This is a slow-paced and pretty country that until only a decade ago relied entirely on the rivers here for all their transportation needs because no roads were laid in this part of the country until then. With China emerging as a major economy, however, modern highways have been built to link the economic giant with Thailand and other trading partners.

This little city I leave today is heavily influenced by French colonialism. The buildings along the main street Sisavangvong have French doors and shuttered windows with roofs in the Laos Buddhist style, pointed at the edges. Little cafes serve delicious thick Laos coffee and fresh authentic baguettes. This UNESCO World Heritage city is just entirely quaint.

I've had a lot on my mind in the past few weeks. For about a month, I was sort of dragging my feet, feeling overcome with road weariness and even guilt about spending all my money. I started thinking about coming home sooner than originally planned. But I got a burst of rejuvenation in northern Thailand after doing a three day jungle trek over my 25th birthday and then heading over into Laos by way of this gorgeous river which winds through jungles and gorges.

I've also received a job offer that would take me back to Europe. Back in October I stopped off in this hostel, The Pink Palace, on the Greek Island of Corfu on my way to Istanbul. One hazy evening there after sidling up to the bar and taking over the music selection in an attempt to avoid dealing with an annoying Canadian, I was tentatively offered a job as the DJ's assistant in the upcoming high season. At the time, I just took it as an empty offer, inspired by ouzo. However, six weeks ago, the DJ got in touch with me via Facebook and said the job is mine if I want it.

Looking at the situation at home and talking to my parents and friends, it seems like staying abroad for a little longer and waiting out this financial crisis might not be a bad idea. So now I'm trying to maneuver this giant U-Turn that will take me back to Europe in two months time. Ideally, I'd like to make a real adventure out of it, flying to Hong Kong and then making my up to Beijing where I'd hop on the TransManchurian Express for a six day train journey into Russia. Then I'd fly from Moscow or St. Petersberg into Moscow. It would be a lot of hard miles, but I think it would also bring this trip to a whole new level.

Oh boy, my bus is here in two minutes. I must run. Farewell Luang Prabang. Hello Vang Vieng.

Three countries, one day

Feb. 3, 2009

Time has flown since I arrived in Thailand on January 4. Sleepless overnight bus trips and nights on the islands that stretched into the next morning left me tumbling through each day. When I returned to Bangkok to meet up with Julie, my sense of time and place seemed warped. My journal from that time is filled with an attempted recollection about the days on the islands, but it amounts to little more than this:

Jan. 7 - Jan. 22: Left BKK, arrived Ko Phan Nang and painted myself in day glo to attend jungle trance party and Full Moon Party, hung out for two days in Krabi, met some Brits in Ko Lanta, hung out in a tree house with some Thai Rastafarians, drank buckets, went to Ko Phi Phi, met Aussies and Canadians at a hostel called the Rock, drank buckets, partied, saw a shark, painted others in day glo, partied, lost 600 baht at sea, ate banana chocolate pancake, partied.

There's also some other stuff in there about a half-naked, leaping Australian, but that story (like so many others) will be saved for the book.

Anyway, as I said, time flew and suddenly I only had a few days left on my visa. On January 1 of this year, the new Thai government changed some of the tourist visa rules. To extend my visa in the country, I would have to pay about $50 and would only get seven days added on. However, if I left the country and returned by land, I could get two extra weeks for only the cost of transportation and the fee for the other country.

Julie and I were bound for Chiang Mai, a city in the mountains of northern Thailand. We were planning to do a lot in the north country. We had a jungle trek scheduled and wanted to take Thai cooking lessons and look into a short meditation course. If I wanted to stick around town, I had to make a visa run.

I booked a day trip to Burma through a company that also offered some sightseeing along the way.

I left early on the morning of Jan. 28th. Our first stop was to a hot spring near Chiang Rai. It was a complete tourist trap. There was a big, boiling natural fountain in the middle of a parking lot encircled by chintzy souvenir shops. The highlight of that stop was boiling an egg in the spring.

Next we headed to a pagoda in the old city of Chiang Rai. There I learned the difference between a pagoda and a stupa. Both are holy Buddhist structures, though a stupa normally holds the bones of a monk or members of the royal family, whereas a pagoda is larger and contains fragments of the bones of the Buddha or the king or queen.

Our next stop was to the Golden Triangle, where the borders of Thailand, Laos and Myanmar all converge along the Mekong River. The area used to be known for its intense opium trade. Drug dealers used gold to change instead of fumbling around with the different currencies of the three neighboring countries.

We took a boat trip across the Mekong to the Laotian shore to visit a small village which was also just a big tourist trap. There were Canadians walking around the village with life-jackets on like they were expecting the river to suddenly recede and then surge with the force of a tsunami.

The stores in the village offered much of the same jewelry, T-shirts and souvenirs you can find in Bangkok, though they also sold really cheap cigarettes and python whiskey. (See photos). That was pretty cool.

After spending 30 minutes in Laos, we returned to the Thai side of the river and headed up to the Myanmar border where our guide took myself and two French Canadians across to get our visas extended. I enjoyed my stay in Burma, all five minutes of it.

Our last stop was to a Karen Longneck village. The women in these villages wear loops of silver wrapped around their necks and knees. The purpose, our guide told us, is to protect the women from tiger attacks and snake bites. It all just seemed like blatant subjugation of the women to me.

The women sat in their huts not speaking, staring out at us tourists like listless caged animals in the zoo. The whole scene made me uncomfortable. I snapped a few photos before retreating to the van where I waited until we left to head back to Chiang Mai.

I was exhausted. It was a long day running across the borders of three different countries. I was ready for some down time in the city.

The Grand Palace

Feb. 3, 2009

I crammed in some more culture during a visit to the Grand Palace in Bangkok. It was big and sparkly.

I'm feeling lazy on the writing front, so here's the Wiki entry on the place:

The Grand Palace (Thai: พระบรมมหาราชวัง, Phra Borom Maha Ratcha Wang) is a complex of buildings in Bangkok, Thailand. It served as the official residence of the Kings of Thailand from the 18th century onwards. Construction of the Palace began in 1782, during the reign of King Rama I, when he moved the capital across the river from Thonburi to Bangkok. The Palace has been constantly expanded and many additional structures were added over time. The present King of Thailand; King Rama IX, however does not currently reside there but at the Chitralada Palace.

The Palace is however still very much in use; as many royal rituals are performed here by the King every year. Other royal ceremonies celebrated here are coronations; royal funerals, marriages and state banquets. The Palace grounds also contain the offices and buildings of the Bureau of the Royal Household, the Office of the Private Secretary to the King and Royal Institute of Thailand.

Cool. It made for more pretty pictures which, as we all know, speak a thousand words, give or take.

Is it obvious that I'm getting palaced and templed out?

Wat culture?

Feb. 3, 2009

After several hazy weeks in the islands, I retreated back north to Bangkok to reconnect with my friend Julie, an American I met while trekking in Nepal in December. She had flown in from Delhi and was supposed to meet me in the islands but got stuck in the Thai capital after coming down with a walking flu.

I arrived in Bangkok with my tail between my legs, baked by the sun and borderline brain dead from too much bucket diving. I needed some detox. I needed some culture.

Julie and I joined up with two of her friends who she met while volunteering in Nepal, Martha, from Columbia, and Haley from Nova Scotia, Canada. The four of us spent an afternoon at the Wat Arun, the Temple of Dawn located on the bank of the Chao Phraya River in the Thon Buri section of the city. The Thai Buddhist temple is an impressive sight, its facade completely constructed of seashells and crushed pieces of china.

Pretty pictures are about all I got out of the experience. I spent half an hour by myself sitting on a green patch of grass near the temple staring into space. My brain needed a bit of a rest.

Drunk monkey

Feb. 3, 2008

Even the monkeys like to party on Ko Phi Phi.

Playing with fire

Feb. 3, 2009

Ko Phi Phi is an island of lethal beauty. Warm water the color and clarity of blue diamonds laps up against soft ivory beaches where bronzed Venuses and Adonises lie out under the southern Thai sun.

In the town, bars advertise cheap drink deals, wet T-shirt contests and Maui Thai boxing. The Kings of Leon's single Sex on Fire is on constant rotation in every other restaurant. Anyone wearing more than a swimsuit is overdressed.

People show their daring by leaping off 65 foot cliffs, or by battling their buddies in the boxing ring to win free vodka buckets. Grown men fight off nausea and tears as they get bamboo tattoos or when they find out through a hungover haze that they spent most of the night before with a ladyboy.

The Ibiza Bar hosts a nightly party on the beach pumping electro and hip hop as people dance and mingle wriggling up to one another under neon lighted palm trees. Poi dancing and Thai Fire Limbo is often on the schedule of activities for the night.

Everyone on this island is playing with fire in one way or another. Leave your inhibitions, hang ups and emotional sensitivities on the mainland. Otherwise you may get burned.

A nice day on Ko Lanta

Jan. 28, 2009

I'm sure my parents are cringing after checking out my last entry. The Thai Islands are a bit too much fun.

The thing about the islands is that they are full of people just on holiday. Unlike those of us who have been on the road for months, a lot of tourists are there for only a couple weeks. They have a spending and partying power that is dangerous and contagious.

I did have one nice day out with some fellow travelers on the laid back island of Ko Lanta in the Andaman Sea. My Canadian friend Ben and I rented scooters, while three daring Brits hired a tuk tuk for the day to bum around the island.

We rode through a rubber tree plantation and visited the old town. We also stopped at a sea gypsy village and at a local market where we sampled some of the exotic fruit.

This was one of our more productive and innocent days.

Enjoy les photos!

Bucket dive

Jan. 26, 2008

I have been a major slacker with this blog of late. The Thai islands are full of many fun and beautiful distractions.

But this is the main reason I have been unable to approach this blog to write anything worthwhile or coherent.

Update: My friend Julie added this little witticism: "Instead of spending my time in the islands getting my PADI, I got a license in bucket diving."

Thanks Juliana Jones.

Obamarama

Jan. 25, 2008

I know this is a little late, but I just wanted to express how proud I am to be an American these days. I can already see a difference in the way people react to my telling them that I am from the States since Barack Obama was elected president. Instead of suspicion or "Oh, you're one of those types!", I get "OBAMA! (high five)"

Obama is an international superstar. His image is everywhere. I get a special rush of pride when I see people from other parts of the world sporting t-shirts with his likeness, such as this funny Brit I met in Ko Lanta.

I ended up watching the inauguration in a bar on Ko Phi Phi with a couple from Alaska and a whole crowd of Canadians, Scots, Brits, Aussies and Irishmen. Several in the crowd were in tears following Obama's speech.

It is an exciting time. I kind of wished I could have beamed myself home for the day to watch the inauguration. But at the same time, it was wonderful to represent my country abroad during such an historical day.

America, f*ck yeah!

Thailand: Disneyland for backpackers

Jan. 17, 2009

Hello, from the Land of Smiles.

I must apologize again for being terrible at keeping this little travel journal updated. I've been on the beach for several days... or is it weeks? Who knows. I'm totally bragging. I know it's like 12 degrees in New York now. Hahahahahahaha.

I figured when planning this trip that by around this time of year, more than four months on the road, I'd want to head somewhere warm and beachy to hang out and stay still for a little while. I also figured it would be a great opportunity to sit down and start some serious writing.

As I was buying my plane tickets last summer, visions danced through my mind of me bronzed and basking on an empty Thai beach, a laptop (cheaply purchased in Bangkok) on my lap (a good place to place one) and a Pina Colada or some other coconutty concoction in my hand. But the truth is lying on the beach all day is not conducive to creativity. And also, I don't have a laptop cheaply purchased in Bangkok because the BKK and this little country are not as affordable as I expected.

Thailand is overloaded with tourists. A fellow backpacker quoted some statistic that around one in six people in Thailand is a tourist. The Thai people have taken advantage of the popularity of their beautiful country and created a place that is easy and convenient in which to travel. Just walk into any hotel on Koh San Road and you can book a ticket to any region of the country, or of SEAsia for that matter. You'll find yourself the next day on a nice air-conditioned luxury bus with a crowd of 40 other Westerners headed for tropical paradise. But it's not tropical paradise. There are 7-Eleven's everywhere. This country kind of reminds me of Florida.

OK, granted besides Bangkok, I've only been in the islands where tourism is the main industry and prices are jacked up. Tomorrow I'm headed to Koh Phi Phi, the beautiful beach where The Beach was filmed. But the popularity of that movie and the spread of the news about the beauty of this area through word of mouth has brought in the masses. The other day I ate at a KFC in a mini-mall.

Don't get me wrong, it is kind of nice to be in a sunny, clean country with well-paved roads and understandable traffic patterns. I don't begrudge the Thai people for trying to capitalize on the massive tourism industry. I've had lots of fun here over the past couple weeks. I reconnected with Ben (see above picture), a fun Canadian I met in India a few months ago who is one of the best travelers I've yet met. I also befriended a slew of new people from England, Canada, the U.S. and Australia. I attended a trance party in the jungle and a beach party under the full moon. I've climbed a waterfall and seen an elephant and eaten lots of spicy coconut soup and pad thai.

It's all been great fun in the sun. But for some reason, it all feels sort of uninspiring.

New year, no resolutions

Jan. 6, 2009

I write to you now from Bangkok having flown in from Kathmandu via Delhi on January 4th. I spent my Christmas and New Years with a group of people I met during my last days trekking the Annapurna Circuit.

It might seem odd or sad perhaps spending the holidays with people that one barely knows. But travelers are a different breed. We find a common bond with our fellows on the road. We bunk up to save a few rupees and share meals and stories to pass the time and gain information about where next to bring the adventure. We make friends and form relationships that though maybe fleeting as we head in different directions, are intense and unforgettable.

Over the past four months, I've come to realize that the world is much more accessible than most of us know. I've received several e-mails from friends and former colleagues who say how jealous they are of my trip. The thing is, all it takes is some money and the will to actually leave your house.

I saved up for two and a half years living at home with my dad and working at a newspaper company (where you don't make very much money at all) to be able to fund this trip. Though Europe hit the wallet pretty hard, since I arrived in Asia, everything has been quite affordable. Even the 19-day Annapurna trek only cost about $500. That money went for food, lodge expenses, renting and buying some gear, and the 2,000 Nepali rupee fee to walk in the Sanctuary. Outside of trekking, you could live comfortably on less than $100 a week in Nepal. A few months of savings could last you years in India.

There are many ways to live in this world. Those with any kind of desire to get out of their current situations, to escape the world they know for a while, should just get up and do it. The Lonely Planet guidebooks (Bibles for the budget travellers) were driven by the philosophy "All you've got to do is decide to go and the hardest part is over. So go!"

My best friend asked me the other day if I had made any New Years resolutions. I'd kind of forgotten all about making resolutions.

"No," I told her. "I've made none, because I'm doing exactly what I want to be doing right now."

Annapurna: The highway

Jan. 6, 2009

These are images of the three day walk from Kag Beni to Naypul, a walk that normally takes five to six days. I was running out of money and anxious to get back to Pokhara to get a hot shower and some good food.

It was amazing to witness the extreme changes in climate in the quick walk. In one day I moved from the windy, chilly town of Marpha, the so-called apple capital of Nepal, to almost tropical Tatopani, lush with orange trees.

Though the scenery is still phenomenal, the walk along the Kala Gandaki river is not as interesting as on the other side of the pass because the trail has been developed into a road. The innkeeper of the Red House Hotel where I stayed in Kag Beni told us that her husband had hired a motorbike to make the drive down to Pokhara. Instead of rejoicing in the convenience of the new road, she lamented the jeep tracks.

"It used to be a six day walk out of these mountains," she said. "Now it can be done in a day."

I found this attitude echoed by many of the villagers around the Annapurna Circuit. On the other side where I started out the trek, scores of men work each day shoveling into the side of the ridges, slowly chiseling away boulders to create a road over there as well. In a few years time, the Annapurna Circuit will no longer be the old mule trail that it has been for hundreds of years. Soon it will be transformed into the Annapurna Highway.

Annapurna: Kag Beni

Jan. 6, 2009

Here's another album depicting the village and the surrounding areas of Kag Beni, the last town up the Kala Gandaki River that may be visited freely by tourists. Beyond this little town lies the Mustang Kingdom. Much like Bhutan, the region charges tourists a daily fee to see the place. The act keeps tourism in check and allows the region to maintain much of its authenticity.

Though I didn't venture into the kingdom, I climbed up a high cliff one day to take photos of the Thorung La pass and the further regions including Mustang. Apparently from the top of the peak, one can also see as far as Tibet. I, however, lost the path and then decided to quit the search and descend to town when the midday winds kicked in. On the way down, I witnessed a young shepherd boy running down the mountain full speed, sliding along the rocky terrain, unafraid of the velocity, sure in his step. It was amazing to see someone so adapted to this alien terrain.

Annapurna: Muktinath

Jan. 6, 2009

Just as I was about to give up on my Annapurna commentary, I had another look at the photos of the last days of my trek. The images brought me right back into the mountains. I feel like they need to be shared.

These photos depict the holy village of Muktinath, the first town you reach after crossing over the pass from Manang. Every year thousands of Hindus and Buddhists make a pilgrimage to the town to visit the holy temple in the hills.

The mountain Dhaulagiri is the prodominent feature on the western horizon from the town. The mountain seems to breath steam from its peak. Women sit along the one street through the town selling jewelry and hand-woven yak wool scarves (that's where I got your Christmas present Mom!).

I sent several postcards from a nearby little town called Jharkot. Outside the post office which was nothing more than someone's back pantry, a woman was cutting up yak meat. I don't know if the postcards sent from that little post office just below Thorung La will ever arrive. If they do, it will be a tremendous feat having had to be carried by humans and mule trains through the mountains down to the valley and then carried by car to Kathmandu where it will be airmailed to Europe and eventually sent overseas.

The last two photos in this album are really special to me. I awoke early one morning in my hotel room in Muktinath with a bright light shining in my eyes. Thinking it was the sun, I got up to pull the shades closed. When I looked out the window, I saw that it was actually the moon, full and massive setting behind the mountains.

I later learned that that is the closest the moon will come to earth for many, many years. I was in a magical spot to witness it.

Annapurna: All down hill from here

Jan. 5, 2009

I have to start this year off by apologizing. I've been quite neglectful of my little web journal over the past few weeks.

Starting off writing about the Annapurna Circuit was much like how I started off trekking, full of vigor and enthusiasm. But after a few days of writing, again much like the trek itself, I became lethargic. Frankly, I was kind of sick of the topic.

Walking the 220 kilometer circuit with the additional side trip to Tilicho Lake was an amazing experience. However, much has happened since I returned to Pokhara Valley on Dec. 19. The holidays and a new group of friends I happened to meet toward the end of the trek kept me busy and distracted over the past weeks. Let me attempt to get back up to speed...

After making it over Thorung La, I still had eight more days of hard walking ahead.
Spending nearly three weeks at high altitude in need of good food and a hot shower, I was ready to get out of the hills and head back to Pokhara. I was also running out of money. There is nary an ATM above 3,000 meters in the Himalayas.

I spent several days in villages near the pass before splitting up from the group and making a three day run from the village of Kag Beni back to Pokhara. (I don't have my Annapurna map with me now or my journal from the trek so I don't have altitudes or distances available. However, the trip from Kag Beni to Pokhara normally takes five days.)

Toward the end of my trek, I was planning to spend some time in the village of Tatopani where there is a famous hot spring. (Tatopani literally means hot water in Nepali, a fact I learned several weeks later when a new Nepali friend of mine continuously ordered Whiskey Tatopanis at Tom and Jerry's Bar in Kathmandu.) However, I arrived in the village on day 17 an hour after dark. I was so low on money by that point and so antsy to be back in Pokhara, I ended up skipping the springs leaving early the next day for Ghorepani.

That second to last day of the trek was pretty much eight hours uphill through tiered valleys and orange country. I arrived in the village just before sunset hungry and exhausted. The electricity was out, so I sat alone in the dark of an empty inn hovering over my black tea and fried rice. I was writing in my journal by candlelight enjoying the calm and solitude when in busted in a noisy foursome just down from Poon Hill where trekkers traditionally go to watch sunrise and sunset over the mountains.

The group, consisting of three Irish folk and an American woman, gathered round the wood burning stove where I sat and talked about their trek. They were doing the five day Poon Hill Trek. They would be heading downhill to Tatopani the next day, the walk I just did in reverse.

In spite of my fatigue, I was happy for the company and I ended up exchanging e-mails with the others before slipping off early to bed while they stayed up laughing and drinking roxy. I wanted to wake up before dawn to watch the sunrise on my last day of trekking.

When I got to my room, I fell right into bed and was out like a light. I awoke to the sound of scuffling and laughing in the room next door. Thinking it was time to get up, I leaned over to look at the hour on my cell phone. It was 11 p.m.

Through the wall next to me which was thin as cardboard I heard Julie, the American, and Kevin, one of the Irish blokes, talking to each other. Then Julie started singing Christmas carols at the top of her lungs.

The next morning atop Poon Hill, Kevin and Julie only then realizing that I had been witness to the impromptu concert the night before, apologized profusely. I just laughed and told Julie she's lucky she has a good voice.

I parted company with the colorful group after breakfast that morning. They headed downhill to Tatopani, and I headed downhill to Naypul where I would leave the Annapurna Sanctuary and take a taxi back to Pokhara.

The return to town was just as I imagined it would be. I spent almost a week doing absolutely nothing. It was wonderful.

But after a few days, I did start to get kind of bored so I got in touch with Julie. I ended up reuniting with the wacky group over drinks at a bar in Pokhara called Busy Bees. I ended up hanging out with them everyday following that night until I left the country two days ago.

Through the holidays, all of us far from home, we became sort of a family. A weird, dysfunctional, funny-ass family. Let's just say from the moment I met this group, it was all down hill from there.