307 Days

Slovenian Adventures- Part 1

2016-09-11T08:52:00.001-07:00

Hello, readers!

While we're no longer traveling the world full time, we've decided to continue using 307 Days to post updates on our continued travels. Hopefully you'll find them entertaining...

We've wanted to visit Slovenia for a while. It's the size of Massachusetts, but with only 2 million people (MA has a lot more). It was also part of the Roman Empire for 1,000+ years and straddles three different cultures: the Roman (or "romance") cultures of Western Europe; Slavic, and Germanic (Austria borders the north). It also bosts one of the loveliest small cities we've visited, numerous castles, and the Julian Alps. It's also not overrun with tourists (yet) and reasonably inexpensive (a pint of beer runs 2-3 euro). So we set out to explore and hike for about 3 weeks.

First, Ljubljana. With a castle in a hill, a lovely river, and and excellent food and wine scene, what's not to love? This is the square outside the apartment we rented for a few days:

Really, there's not tons to do but wander the pedestrian center, sit in cafes, and walk through lovey parks. It's also important to have a pint of Union Beer, brewed right in town and something of a local icon:

From Lubljana we cut a long loop southwest, the Predjama Castle. Legend has it that the castle's owner, Erasmus, a renowned robber-baron, defied the crown then withstood a siege for over a year until he was finally killed with a lucky cannon shot while using the toilet (true story). One look at the place and you can see why he was able to hold out so long:

It is, quite literally, built into the side of a mountain with an extensive cave system behind it. Very cool. Brook's 10-year-old-self was ecstatic.

Next we looped north to Kobarid, and the lovely hill village of Dreznica. This area is part of the Soca River Valley, also known a the Isonzo River, and the Sven of brutal gifting during WWI that left over one million dead on just this front alone. Fortifications still ring the peaks and River valley, and no visit is complete without taking a moment to reflect on the horror and futility of war.

Happily, the area is now a beautiful, tranquil place with great hiking and views around every corner. Here's one from our farm stay:

Beekeeping is also huge in Slovenia, and they take pains to decorate their hives:

Slovenian food, we're learning, is really good in that grandma's cooking kind of way. A little heavy on the meat and potatoes, but always tasty and usually local. Everything on this plate was raised and made by the family who hosted us for 3 nights:

Same with this one:

Out of Kobarid there's lovely hiking on the edge of the Julian Alps. On our last day, we had a nice 13-mile ramble in the hills:

Our walk took us along part of the Pot Miru, or "walk of peace", which roughly follows the old WWI front.

We finished up with a well-earned pint of local microbrew, which is a relatively new but booming scene in Slovenia.

From Dreznica we headed north, to Trenta and the high peaks of the Julian Alps, where we sit right now. But more on that later.

Standing Still

2015-04-19T06:05:00.000-07:00

Facebook keeps reminding us that, around this time last year, we were bombing around New Zealand in a camper van. Back then, our only worries were planning our next trek, finding some decent beer, and dodging the notoriously fickle New Zealand weather. But today, instead of driving down to Milford Sound, we're loading up our (heavily used) Prius and beginning the long drive north, from Brook's father's house in Naples, Florida, to our new abode outside Boston.

The past four months have been strange. There are a lot of things about America that are unsettling after a year abroad. Things like manicured suburbs, mega stores, and political debates that seem based more on a 19th century mentality of manifest destiny than 21st century science and compassion. Strange too is contemplating work, careers, and finances after our time away. The pressure to succeed is intense and, although much of that pressure is self-created, a lot of it is an artifact of our education, expectations, and societal ideals of the good life. At the same time, it's not always clear what success means or how to find it. The wealth gap here is just staggering and there's a nagging sense that if you're not getting ahead, you're slipping behind. There are many days when we're both sorely tempted to move to Chile and buy a hostel.

But instead, we're moving back to Somerville, near our good friends and family. Erin starts a great job in May, at a well-respected research firm in Cambridge. Brook is still casting about for the right position and (let's be honest) is getting a little frustrated with the options in the Boston area. We'll see how this all shapes up over the next few months, as we move into our new apartment and the reality of settled life hits us. Right now, we're hoping to re-establish our careers (which we both enjoy), spend time hiking in the Whites, and surf some freezing waves in Maine. We're also pretty psyched to have our own bed again.

In the meantime: road trip!

Best of 2014 -- Part 2: Asia

2015-03-03T07:33:00.001-08:00

It's finally done. Over 10,000 photos culled, organized, and edited. A while back we posted the highlights reel for the first half of 2014, and now we're proud to present the best of Asia in a (relatively) compact slideshow.

The second half of our trip was much different than the first. In Chile, we took comfortable busses everywhere, stayed in nice hostels, and could speak the language (sort of). And in Australia + New Zealand, we had our own little home on wheels and could also speak the language (sort of). We also took it easy, wandering around at our own pace.

Asia was a different beast. With eight countries in five months (and seven of those in 3.5 months), we moved quicker, using airplanes, buses, trains, boats, horses, and our feet. We also were constantly thrown into new cultures, new systems, new languages, and new diets that required constant adjustment. We learned a little Thai and a little Mongolian, learned to love Japanese food and dal baht, and learned that we're not very good at relaxing on a beach. If we did it again, we would probably go a little slower, but we still had a great time and discovered some unexpected highlights, like Hokkaido and central Mongolia.

We hope you enjoy the highlights, although probably not as much as we did...

Because we're running into some technical difficulty embedding the video, just click here to watch it directly on YouTube: http://youtu.be/2vhys72rSgw

You can also see the photo album here: https://plus.google.com/photos/103829313469224560701/albums/6122017901103139409

Diving with Whale Sharks!

2015-02-01T11:51:00.000-08:00

Since it's the middle of winter and most of our friends are freezing up in Boston, or Colorado, or Maine, we thought we'd share a little warmer weather with you...

Last June we spent about a week diving and snorkeling on Australia's wild west coast. One area we visited was Ningaloo Reef, near the town of Exmouth and a full two day drive north of Perth. It's a stark, remote place with excellent reefs, lots of wildlife, and whale sharks. Whale sharks are gentle filter feeders and stop at Ningaloo during their annual migrations to feed on krill, plankton, and other small aquatic organisms.

We were lucky enough to get out on a day when no other boats were on the water, and had close encounters with several of these beautiful animals. The ones we swam with were about 20-30 feet long; it's hard to tell from the videos, but they move so quickly it's hard to keep up. We're not professional videographers, and apologize for the jerky GoPro footage...

One technical note: blogger may automatically downgrade the video resolution for you. If that happens and the video is grainy, you can view these in HD by clicking on the little "YouTube" button on the video (which will open it directly in YouTube) and then using the gear icon at the lower right of the video to change the resolution to HD. Here's a more complete explanation.

Enjoy!

Best of 2014 -- Part 1: The Southern Hemisphere

2015-01-01T13:18:00.001-08:00

It goes without saying that 2014 was an awesome year. After a month back in the States we've had time to reflect on our adventures and start putting together a few highlights. Here's the first installment, recapping our six months in the southern hemisphere, through Chile, Australia, and New Zealand. Enjoy it... we certainly did.

You can also view this video here on Youtube. And if you prefer the traditional photo album format, have a look here.

Merry Christmas!

2014-12-25T05:12:00.000-08:00

The Epic Sign Post

2014-12-16T16:58:00.000-08:00

One thing we learned while traveling this year: there are a lot of signs in the world. Signs, we also learned, come in many flavors, from helpful to funny, and downright strange. At some point, we started taking pictures of them. So, without further ado, here are some of our favorites.

Australia

Mixing British sensibility and caution with the Australian devil-may-care attitude, road signs in Australia are both practical and entertaining...

They forgot about the sharks.

Many tourists forgot this, so these were quite helpful.

A disheartening sign, especially since we were biking and wine tasting.

New Zealand

We spent a lot of time at holiday parks (a.k.a. campgrounds) in New Zealand. While the people running these parks were almost always kind and friendly, they also invariably posted slightly crazed signs like the one below. Woe to the camper who doesn't obey the signs...

Malaysia

Signs like the one below were common throughout Southeast Asia, where durian is a popular fruit to eat. It also smells strongly of trash and makes everything around it smell like trash - as we discovered on a very long train ride in Vietnam.

Vietnam

Speaking of Vietnam, it was the source of some of our favorite signs, from propaganda to helpful rules about which guests were allowed in your room.

These signs contained no sense of irony.

Picky guesthouse owners. No prostitutes?!

Their third bullet was inviting, but we did not eat here.

Thailand

Thailand had a more mothering tone to its signs, warning us about dangerous people out to take our stuff and hurt us. Thank you Thailand!

Unfortunately, this sign was posted in a Buddhist temple. Where all the monks were dressed in red...

Excellent advice for life on the last line.

Japan

Japan also likes to provide lots of signs, though they often advertised their usefulness in English, then offered all the information in Japanese. Below are three of our favorite English translation signs - they capture the friendly and polite spirit of the Japanese we met.

We never saw the bee.

This sign would have been more useful in Mongolia.

Yes, let's!

And so, the next time you're abroad, just remember:

Nepal Part 4: Trek recap and photos

2014-12-04T08:07:00.001-08:00

As you might expect, we visited some pretty spectacular places and took a lot of photos while trekking through the Himalayas in Nepal. Like this one, capturing the entire Annapurna range at sunset:

But as you also might expect, the internet in Nepal is pretty slow. So it wasn't until now that we had a chance to get some photos online. Out of over 1,000 taken across five weeks of trekking, we've tried to put together a manageable album from each of our two treks for your viewing pleasure. To put the pictures in context, here's a quick recap of each of our two treks.

Manaslu-Tsum Valley: 22 days, 191 miles

This trek took us up the Manaslu Valley, with a 9-day side trip up and down the Tsum Valley. Both of these areas are only recently open to tourists, are fairly remote, and have a strong Tibetan influence. We spent a lot of time within a 1-day walk of Tibet, and the area reflects this. The Tsum Valley also has a lot of monasteries (or "gompas") full of monks (lamas) or nuns (anis). It's flanked by the Ganesh Himal (with several 7,000 meter peaks) and numerous minor peaks that form the border with Tibet. It's a relatively untouched and beautiful place. We even stumbled across a Buddhist festival at a local gompa:

And here's a typical early morning view from the trail:

The upper end of the Manaslu Valley is similar, and is an old trade route to Tibet. The villages reflect this, and there's still a lot of trading, though less now because of China's influence. To get there, we walked for five days up a narrow river valley, often perched on trails about 3-4 feet wide with a sheer cliff on one side and a hundred-foot (or more) drop on the other, down into the raging river below. It was tough walking, but rewarded at the upper end by views of the Manaslu Himal, which contains one of the world's 8,000 meter peaks (there are only 14), Manaslu. Unfortunately, due to a recent storm and remaining icy conditions, we were not able to cross the Larkye La pass into the Annapurna region and instead had to descend along our original route down through the river gorge. The last 4-5 days were a bit frustrating as a result, with a busy trail and repeated downhill days taking a toll on our knees. But the trek was still very scenic and diverse, with changing landscapes every couple of days. Here's a shot of Mt. Manaslu:

A photo gallery from the Manaslu-Tsum Valley Trek is available here:
https://plus.google.com/photos/103829313469224560701/albums/6088721278173380593

Annapurna: 13 days, 99 miles

We had a guide and porter for the Manasu trek, but that's a double-edged sword. There are a lot of hassles dealing with a guide, who has his own ideas about the route you should take. And porters can be ill-equipped and are usually not that experienced in the mountains (oddly) so it can limit your high-altitude options. For the Annapurna, we opted to just go out on our own, which was a great call. We got a chance to take some very remote and unused trails, explored high ridgelines, and over 13 days managed to almost double the climbing of our Manaslu trek, ascending about 26,000 feet in total. It helped that we were well-acclimatized. The trek was a lot of fun, and the Annapurnas are stunning. Annapurna Base Camp itself, our highest point in our entire time in Nepal, is an amazing basin hidden behind fortress-like mountains rising over 25,000 feet. Here's a late-day view of a few peaks:

A photo gallery from the Annapurna Trek is available here:
https://plus.google.com/photos/103829313469224560701/albums/6088921645973869873

We're not sure if we'll ever make it back to Nepal, but we're glad we visited. The scale of the Himalayas is hard to understand until you've stood at the base of an 8,000 meter peak and stared up in wonder at those who climb to such heights. It's a place of amazing natural beauty, interesting culture, and great outdoors challenges. Including a lot of dodgy bridges...

And we're back...

2014-12-03T14:02:00.000-08:00

We're back in Florida after a fairly interesting 45 hour trip. It started off inauspiciously, with dense fog in Kathmandu and a closed airport. Luckily, the fog lifted and we managed to leave Nepal with only a 2 hour delay and some chaos at the airport. Next, it was a 12 hour overnight from Bangkok to Frankfurt. That flight left on time, but Thai Airways managed to give Erin food poisoning. So not much sleep that night, yet we arrived in Frankfurt in relatively decent shape (by this point, we're pretty used to long bus/train/plane rides and OK operating on 2-3 hours of sleep).

As it turns out, the Lufthansa pilots had chosen that day to strike. Meaning 1,400 flights cancelled and 150,000 people stranded throughout Europe. We were just starting to look forward to extending our trip by a week or two (hey, Germany and Switzerland? why not!) when we found out that the only flights not cancelled were about a dozen to the U.S. and Japan. Our final 10-hour flight left Germany on time, US immigration and customs was a breeze, and -- miraculously -- all our luggage made it. That's something like 25 flights, a dozen trains, and countless bus rides with no lost bags and no theft. Sort of amazing.

So now we're relaxing in Florida at Brook's sister's house, somewhat disoriented but in pretty good shape. It's good to be back, but we're still in denial about facing reality. Things like phone bills, car insurance, and jobs seem like such a hassle... but we really can't complain.

Walking Downhill

2014-11-30T04:52:00.001-08:00

It began about ten days ago, when we started walking downhill from Annapurna Base Camp. As we hiked through Himalayan villages, caught our last close glimpses of their ice-shrouded guardians, and navigated our final ridges, we both knew that we had started down a long but inevitable path back. First back to Pokhara, then Kathmandu, then the airport and the strange limbo of international transit, finally arriving again on US soil after nearly eleven months away. It was then, during those first steps downhill, that we began to feel a sense of ending.

It's strange and hard to explain, ending. This year we've seen amazing things, met great (and horrible) people, had adventures, gotten lost, gotten found, drank too much wine then not nearly enough, climbed things, lost things, found things, and have if anything grown to love and appreciate each other all the more for having experienced it all together. And we don't really want it to end when we board our flight home tomorrow.

At the same time we miss everyone back home. This year we've really missed friends, family, and being part of life events and celebrations, big (congrats, Emily!) or small (go Pats!). We also miss decent sandwiches, good beer, laundry machines, BBQ, paychecks, and the comfort of sleeping in the same place more than a few nights at a stretch. But we don't miss the office or vacation parceled out a few days at a time.

So it's going to be a balancing act. Between restarting careers we both enjoy and carving out a life that lets us keep adventuring. Between the comforts of home and the challenge of exploring. We're looking forward to the next stage, and to seeing all of you again and sharing a year's worth of stories over a beer or three. Just as soon as we survive our three-flight, four-nation, 45-hour trip home. See you Tuesday.

Nepal Part 3: Route finding in the Annapurnas

2014-11-24T21:28:00.001-08:00

Two days ago we wrapped up a 13-day trek in the Annapurnas, and it was a very different experience than the Manaslu region. While the Manaslu and Tsum trek was largely a matter of following large river valleys, the Annapurna sanctuary is a gnarled area of ridges, gorges, and minor peaks. And this time we went out on our own, with no guide or porter, intending to explore some more remote areas on less popular trails.

Over thirteen days, we did manage to find wonderful, off-the-beaten-track areas. With much of the main Annapurna circuit and sanctuary area under development with (very bad) roads and power lines, there are new trekking routes springing up that use local trails and visit more remote areas. We linked two of these areas, the Mohare Danda and Koprah Danda (danda meaning ridge), both of which have newer community-run lodges, with proceeds going to local schools. They also have amazing views. Here's the view from Mohare Danda, where we spent our second night:

From left to right, you can see Fang, Annapurna South, Hiunchuli, and Machhapuchhre, ranging from 7647 to 6441 meters high.

The major trekking routes tend to follow old trails that sprang up ages ago as transit routes between villages. But these often follow rivers or valleys, avoiding unnecessary climbing but also missing out on views. By contrast, the newer ridge line hikes are more spectacular, more remote, and much less heavily travelled. During our day and night at the Mohare Danda lodge, which we found with the help of a local man hired as a guide for the day, we saw only two other trekkers, but plenty of peaks and stars.

While remote and exciting, these treks do necessitate some route finding, and have plenty of hard climbs and descents. We did pretty well over six days, then found a nice quiet spot for a rest day before pushing on up the main trail to Annapurna Base Camp. Appropriately enough, it was called Little Paradise and again, we saw few trekkers but did make friends with a girl from Colorado and a group of Nepali guys up for a few days from Kathmandu. Here's our rest-day spot, with a good view of Annapurna South and it's fortress-like ridge:

From there we pushed up to Machhapuchhre Base Camp in two days, and the next day had a short one-hour hike up to Annapurna Base Camp (usually just called ABC) at 4,130 meters (13,500 feet or so) At that point, we'd been trekking for about 30 days, with over 10 of those spent between 3,000 and 3,600 meters (roughly 10,000-12,500 ft.). It was gratifying to take advantage of our acclimatization and cruise uphill during the last stretches, not feeling the altitude, and enjoying a mostly sunny day rambling around ABC. It's a beautiful mountain sanctuary, where you're completely surrounded by huge mountains towering well over 25,000 feet, with hanging glaciers, and a real sense of the size and majesty of the Himalayas. We got up at dawn for a last look at the mountains:

Then we had a knee-crushing 10,000 foot descent over three days, a short taxi ride, and a pizza dinner back in town. It was a fun trek, and we really enjoyed being on our own, making decisions daily and not bound by a guide or itinerary.

Between the Manaslu-Tsum valley trek (22 days) and our Annapurna trek (13 days), we spent five solid weeks on the trail. We spent this morning putting some numbers together, so here they are:

Manaslu-Tsum Valley, over 22 days: 308 km (191 miles); 6,490 meters of climbing and the same descent (21,287 feet each way).

Annapurna, over 13 days (including a rest day): 160km (99 miles); 7960 of climbing and about the same descent (26,109 feet each way)

Total distance hiked: 468km, or 290 miles. Total elevation gained: 14450 meters, or 47,396 feet. Plus another 47,396 feet downhill. Our knees feel it, and we're both a couple pounds lighter, but otherwise we feel surprisingly good.

We're headed to Kathmandu tomorrow, where we have a few days before flying back to the US on December 1, landing in Miami on December 2. We're looking forward to getting back and seeing everyone, but also dreading the 40-hour trip and feeling a bit sad that our travels are nearly over. But more on all that later. Right now we've got to get back to the hard work of relaxing in Pokhara...

Nepal: Part 2, in which we traverse the Manaslu and Tsum Valleys

2014-11-07T01:57:00.001-08:00

We just wrapped up a 22 day trek up (and down) the Manaslu and Tsum valleys, in central Nepal. Both run up to the Tibetan border, and are populated by Tibetans at the upper ends. Tsum runs through the Gamesh Himal, and Manaslu the eponymous Manaslu Himal. Both have many 7,000 meter peaks, while Manaslu itself tops 8,100m, or about 25,000 feet. But the highest we got was 14,000 feet or so at a monestary at the top of the Tsum; most of the trek was in the 6,000-12,000 foot range.

It's surprising how subtropical it is in the Himalayas. For days we walked up a hot river valley (well, more like a gorge), surrounded by rice paddies and banana trees. It wasn't until about 8,000 feet that it started to feel alpine, and even then there were thick forests and monkeys all the way up to 12,000 ft. Watching the landscape and scenery shift is one of the weird things about hiking here. You can literally spend weeks approaching and climbing a single hill or pass, moving from jungle to forest to subalpine to alpine. Along the way, the people shift as well, from Indian-Nepali to Tibetan, with commensurate changes in architecture, food, agriculture, and customs.

When we set out, we had intended to cross the Larkye La pass into the Annapurna region. But a few days before we started, a massive, unseasonal typhoon dropped a few meters of snow up high. Scores of trekkers and locals were killed by avalanches and blizzard conditions in the northern regions. Two weeks later, as we approached the pass, we learned it was still icy and dangerous. So we turned back after getting some great views of the Manaslu range from the ancient village of Samagoan.

A week later, we're now relaxing in Nepal's original capital of Gorkha, a very pleasant town, and headed to the resort town of Pokhara tomorrow. After a few days there, we're hoping to set off on an independent (no guide, no porter) trek through the Annapurna sanctuary (which involves no high, icy passes).

Having a guide for three weeks was more challenging than expected. Language and customs prevented effective communication at times, and there were some very frustrating moments. But all was well in the end, although we're still not sold on the value-add provided by a guide in an age of maps, compasses, and GPS. Our porter Surya, though, was invaluable for our knees and sanity. He would gladly share a beer or rakshi (local rice wine) with us and patiently taught us some Nepali, helping to remind us that we're all just people, cultural frustrations aside. Surya is 26, and earns $10/day for waking up mountains with someone else's kit on his back. But he's always smiling.

We have also realized that Nepali food is singularly well suited for trekking. Most days included at least one meal of dahl baht - lentil soup, rice, veggie curry, and often sautéed greens (although those stopped at the higher elevations) -- served in all-you-can-eat portions. The guides would pack away 3 plates each night, Brook 2, and Erin at least 1. The lodging was also surprisingly civilized: we had beds all but two nights, in private rooms at small lodges. There's even hot showers at a few places, or at least a way to take a cold wash-up. Our only real issues were a 5-day stomach bug (Erin) and week-long mild cold (Brook). But no altitude problems or even serious blisters.

After a year of this, our major problem is probably Brook's boots. First, the almost complete lack of tread remaining. Secondly, and arguably more important, the smell. But with only a few weeks left, we'll somehow muddle through...

After 10 months away, even here in the Himalayas, we're starting to itch for home. Our own bathroom would be nice for starters, along with decent beer, wine, and a burger you can trust. We miss you, dear reader, and following this final jaunt in the mountains, we look forward to catching up. In person.

p.s. No photos for now. Internet in Nepal is way too slow for that... But we'll post albums from the trek when we get a chance.

Nepal: Part 1

2014-10-28T04:08:00.001-07:00

We're now two weeks into our Manaslu-Tsum Valley trek and, miraculously, they have wifi at one of the guesthouses. They also have beer, often electricity, and beds - all of which has definitely made this easier. When we set out, there was a bad, unseasonal storm that dumped a couple meters of snow on the mountains and passes in the Manaslu and Annapurna areas. Sadly, many trekkers, guides, and local people died in avalanches and from exposure. We have changed plans accordingly, and are not attempting any of the high passes or snowy areas. Instead, we're going up and back a few valleys, and playing it safe. We'll send a full report later, but we're enjoying the hike so far, and feeling just a tad beat up after weeks on the trail. But then again, at least they have beer...

The Moment

2014-10-15T02:58:00.001-07:00

Tomorrow we start our trek in the Himalayas. It's been a hectic few days in Kathmandu as we organize our gear, struggle to find working ATMs, buy last-minute supplies, and meet with our guide. But at this point, we're as ready as we're going to get.

Sometimes it's hard to believe we've come this far. When we left home in January, Nepal seemed a lifetime away. It's been nine months since then, with adventures spanning three continents and eleven countries. There were times along the way when we'd talk about this trek, or about going home, as if those things would never really happen.

When you're traveling, you become consumed by the present, whether it's finding your way around a new city or simply sorting out a morning coffee. Every event is it's own little challenge, and while you must plan for the future, buying tickets and booking hotels, it's the now that seems to matter most. That can be a really wonderful thing, and we've tried as best we can to live in the present.

And right now, the present is the dirty chaos of Kathmandu and a 5-am wakeup tomorrow to begin the longest hike of our lives. And truth be told, we're a bit nervous. First, we're tackling the Manaslu and Tsum valleys over about 23 days. Then our guide will head home and we'll continue on our own for 10-15 days across the Annapurna circuit. We did make a last-minute call to hire a porter for the first leg, and the Annapurnas are fairly civilized with teahouses and lodges available, but 30-40 days on the trail is still a long haul.

We're also a bit daunted by one simple fact: this is It. The culmination of our year of travel, the last stop before we fly back to the US and family and jobs and all the rest of it. At the same time, we're psyched. We're getting more and more excited to see the world's greatest mountain range, and coming home in a few weeks means we get to see much-missed friends and family.

So you might not hear from us for a while, while we're out on the trail. But we'll be out there, walking, doing our best to stay present, but with an eye towards home.

The century egg, revisited

2014-10-11T18:00:00.001-07:00

"Wimps". That's what a friend called us for not trying the century egg, which he claimed was actually quite good. We couldn't let that stand, so we took advantage of our three day stopover in Kuala Lumpur to dig into a century egg.

Thanks to a strong Chinese influence in Malaysia, century eggs are easy to find. We picked up a four pack at the local grocery store, which had a selection of duck, chicken or quail eggs. We chose chicken.

Century eggs are eggs that have been preserved in a mixture of clay, ash, salt, quicklime, and rice hulls for several weeks or months. This process turns the whites of the egg a lovely brown while the yolks become greenish. The egg smells a bit like ammonia.

After peeling and rinsing the egg, all that was left was to give it a try...

The texture of the egg wasn't great - the whites are (after weeks of "aging") firm and gelatinous, requiring you to chew while simultaneously threatening to slip down your throat without warning. The taste, though, wasn't too bad for Erin. In fact there wasn't much of a taste at all, so long as you didn't take a big whiff of the egg while eating it. Brook thought it was akin to munching on, well, a pickled rotten egg...

In the end, we think the century egg is best as an novel accompaniment. Perhaps sliced with a salad or chopped up in a sandwich. We probably won't be buying more century eggs for our flight to Nepal, but we're glad we're not wimps anymore...

Recharging in Japan

2014-10-08T23:53:00.001-07:00

Japan surprised us. Despite a fast-paced tour of Honshu and Hokkaido - breaking our three night minimum rule a few times - we found ourselves rejuvenated at the end, and very sad to leave.

We kicked off our Japan tour in the Kobe area, hanging out with Erin's high school friend and her awesome family. We visited local tourist sights and got to experience a little of normal Japanese life. We learned, for example, that all school kids wear the same, standard issue and remarkably fashionable backpack, and that learning to ride the unicycle is compulsory. Builds coordination. We also got to sample Kobe beef, conveyer-belt sushi, and visit a grocery store to figure out which snacks we like (Brook voted for ramen chips, while the kids were begging for dried squid - we got both).

We also got a large dose of Japanese history on a 24-hour whirlwind tour of Kyoto, which has more temples, palaces, parks, and museums than you could possibly visit in one go.

After Kobe, we started to make our way north on the train, which is every bit as efficient and clean as you might imagine. We spent a few days soaking in luxury at an onsen (traditional Japanese hot springs bath) in Hakone, then ventured to Tokyo to see more friends and check out the famed fish market. Here's a link to some photos from Kobe, Kyoto and Tokyo: https://plus.google.com/photos/103829313469224560701/albums/6067444215233432497

Fortunately we found Japanese trains comfortable, because after Tokyo we had a 10-hour, four-train ride up to Otaru, a small town on the north island of Hokkaido.

We arrived in Otaru on the perfect cliché of a dark and stormy night: town seemed deserted (it was only 7 or so), it was pitch black, and an icy rain was lashing down. And unlike Tokyo, which has lots of signs in English, this small town was very Japanese. Which means we reverted to what Brook calls medieval mode. Functionally illiterate, we rely on pictures. If a shop has a picture with a chicken in a

pot, chances are you can get chicken in a pot inside. Carving of a foamy beer? Good bet there's beer, and maybe food on offer. Applying that technique, we spotted a shop with a steaming bowl of noodles on its sign. Cold, wet, and hungry we wandered in, and were greeted by the nicest, most welcoming person in Otaru, the owner's father, Shin. Shin, a former air traffic controller (with near-perfect English) chatted us up, bought us beers, insisted we take home a bottle of sake on the house, lent us maps, and also cooked a mean bowl of ramen. We stayed a while.

In addition to ramen, Otaru has some great hiking trails along the coast and up local mountains. We got in two solid day hikes with some great scenery. We also got stopped by the cops while walking back from a hike through a very local neighborhood. We're assuming someone called and warned them that two honkeys were wandering about and

looking lost. Now, we almost never carry our passports, preferring to lock them

up in the hotel safe, but by chance

we had them on us that day. So after a quick (and apologetic) passport check, the officers made sure we weren't lost, bowed, and sent us on our way. We really enjoyed our stay and, like most places in Japan, were sad to leave Otaru. Here's a few photos from our hikes there:

https://plus.google.com/photos/103829313469224560701/albums/6068086914767661137

After Otaru we visited Daisetsuzan National Park for a few days and hiked as much as possible with foggy weather and snow on the ground. Daisetsuzan is amazing. It's sort of like the White Mointains: similar size peaks, great fall foliage, lots of good day hikes. But it's way more badass. Instead of black bears, they have grizzlies. And instead of rocky ridges, there are steaming volcanoes. We had a great time, and again didn't want to leave... Here's some shots of the scenery on our hikes: https://plus.google.com/photos/103829313469224560701/albums/6068085000566997633

We wrapped up our Japan tour in Sapporo, which, being near a volcano, home to the first brewery in Japan, and seemingly obsessed with flannel, is appropriately the sister city to Portland, OR.

You can't always anticipate which places will help you recharge. You may think that lying on the beach is what you need, but find that time with friends, meeting the friendliest ramen noodle shop owner, or just hiking up a snowy mountain proves much more effective. Of course, ubiquitous hot springs and heated toilet seats don't hurt either. Whatever it was, Japan gave us a little extra boost before we start the final leg of this adventure: Nepal, and five weeks of trekking in the Himalayas.

On food and an unrequited love of spice

2014-10-04T01:52:00.001-07:00

The first few months of our travels were, from a food perspective, bland. Sure, we had wild venison in New Zealand, more avocados than we could eat in Chile and the opportunity to try Australia's coat of arms, but when our plane landed in Kuala Lumpur, we were ready for some real spice and a little more flavor.

Over the next 4 1/2 months we got it, and a few times it got us back. Our willingness to try (almost) anything, along with a large supply of tums and pepto, led us to some delicious food discoveries. Below is a round-up of some of our most memorable eating experiences:

The Breakfast of Champions

Breakfast seems like an appropriate place to start, and is the meal where we were most out of our comfort zone. It's also the meal where we discovered some of our new favorite dishes. For example, roti canai in Malaysia - a delicious Indian-inspired flatbread often served with ayam, a chicken curry dipping sauce, or filled with banana and coated in honey. Best served with Teh Tarik.

Another favorite breakfast were the dumplings with fried bread in China. We think the dumplings had cabbage and egg in them, but aren't sure. Regardless, they were delicious.

And, of course, the multi-course Japanese breakfast that includes broiled fish, pickled vegetables, some type of egg and mysterious but tasty tofu logs. And, of course, rice (or rice porridge).

New Favorite Foods

This could be a long list, so here's just a few.

Chicken rendang from Malaysia - an excellent example of Nyonya cuisine, which is a happy marriage of Indian, Chinese and Indonesian food.

Fish amok in Cambodia - a coconut leaf filled with fresh fish and an aromatic coconut sauce that you will want to put on everything.

Banh xeo in Vietnam - a rice pancake filled with greens, pork and shrimp, wrapped in rice paper then dunked in a fish/soy sauce. We started ordering this at any restaurant that would make it for us. Even if it wasn't on the menu.

And, of course, öröm from Mongolia - at first we were scared of this homemade yak milk cheese/butter spread, but once we tried it we couldn't get enough. Best served with sugar and fried bread. Healthy!

Happy Rediscoveries

We eat a lot of Asian food at home and one thing we've realized while traveling is that most of it is really quite good. For example, sushi in Japan is no better than sushi in New York, Boston, or Portland. But there are a few dishes that we though we knew, until we went to the source.

Green curry in Thailand - You think you like green curry? You have no idea what you're missing. Green curry in Thailand is just better, much better. Maybe that's why the Thai government is investing in this important project: http://m.theglobeandmail.com/life/food-and-wine/food-trends/bad-thai-thailand-creates-taste-testing-robot-to-authenticate-cuisine/article20862979/?

Ramen - Sure it's trendy now and everyone ate it in college. But have you had ramen in a homemade pork broth with a perfectly cooked egg and homemade noodles? Or with a soy broth and chunks of slow-braised beef tendon? It's a totally different food.

The Untested, and the Untried

We admit, there were a few things our stomachs just couldn't fathom, and we weren't brave enough to try. Like...

Dried organ meat in Mongolia: At several gers, the host would pull a plate of dried yak(?) organs from under the bed and offer them up as a snack. We always refused, but our horse riding guide would whip out his knife and start slicing off bites. In our defense, we did try some of the freshly boiled organs and learned the Mongolian words for heart, liver and intestines in the process.

The century egg: We first saw this example of Chinese cuisine in a Malaysian market. It's an egg preserved in a mixture of clay, ash, salt, quicklime, and rice hulls for several weeks or months (thank you Wikipedia). On the outside it looks like an egg covered in charcoal, but on the inside it has a dark green/grey yolk surrounded by brown gelatin. Yummy.

Scorpions, tarantulas, or any other insect: We consider these "tourist food" - who, besides tourists really eats this anymore? Or maybe we're just hiding our fear behind a veneer of traveler superiority. Regardless, we didn't eat any insects in Asia. Yet.

For now, we're quite happy with our nine course Japanese dinners.

Loving Japan

2014-10-01T04:57:00.001-07:00

We're enamored with Japan. It's totally foreign to us, yet oddly familiar. There are beautiful, wild spaces, but plenty of civilization. The food is great, the hotels have hot springs baths (or "onsen"), folks are friendly, and the trains are awesome. Here's one of the famed Shinkansen, or bullet trains, which we've taken a few times:

We're on the north island of Hokkaido now, after visiting Kobe, Kyoto, Hakone, and Tokyo. It took us four trains to get up here from Tokyo, but only about 9 hours to cover the 1300 km (800 miles), including traversing the world's longest seabed tunnel -- over 50km long and 240 meters below sea level -- in this cool train:

Tokyo was a good stop, but fundamentally a big, global city. After living in and visiting so many cities, we're finding them all a bit the same in the larger ways, but different in the smaller ones. We stayed near the famed fish market, ate lots of sushi, wandered around a lot, and drank too much beer at one of the local brew pubs. Turns out Tokyo has an emerging craft brew scene. Here's the river near our hotel:

And here's a cityscape from the top of the Metropolitan Building (unlike in NYC, there's no charge to visit the top):

We also caught a glimpse of our future selves (in maybe fifteen years) while boarding a train at a Tokyo Station:

The ride north from Tokyo was beautiful, with some rural areas and weather rolling in:

And here's the platform in Sapporo where we changed trains for the fourth and final time that day. Because the trains in Japan run precisely on time, you can actually make a 5-minute connection with no problem...

The ride went smoothly, and we arrived in Otaru at 7 last night in a driving cold rain. Otaru is an old seaport on the north coast, about 45 minutes west of Sapporo. It's a destination for Japanese tourists, but only a few westerners visit, so very few people speak English. But it's got some great hikes and a cool old downtown area complete with canals:

Wandering around town last night (wet, hungry, and cold) we stumbled onto a ramen place owned by the friendliest guy in town, Shin, who happened to speak English with a Sylvester Stallone accent. That conversation, along with his delicious ramen, the free beer, free sake, and loaned maps and guidebooks, made for a great night.

Today, we explored the coast on a nice five hour hike. We also got stopped by the cops for the first time this year (not counting Brook's automated speeding ticket in New Zealand). Just a routine passport check, with a polite bow from the officers. Then another hot springs soak, sushi, some local beer, a little sake, and this blog post. Yep. Japan's a pretty great place. We could get used to it...

The White Mountains

2014-09-27T01:31:00.001-07:00

We're in Japan, so perhaps you'll find it odd that we're writing a post about the White Mountains of New Hampshire. But have faith, dear reader, for you shall soon understand.

Hiking in Japan is a lot like hiking in the Whites. Steep, unrelenting trails through the woods, booby-trapped with gnarled roots and twisted branches. To wit:

There's also plenty of slippery, moss-covered rocks, wet leaves, and mud:

And just like home, the views from the top would be awesome, if it weren't for the dense, tangled vegetation that maddeningly obscures every viewpoint...

At least there's the occasional break in the foliage, which allows you breathtaking views of... more foliage.

Even the signs are similar. When they aren't rotted through, they tend towards hard-to-read, inaccurate and confusing.

In fact, the only real difference we could find was that summits are marked with Shinto shrines instead of rock piles.

And so we're happy. Happy that we have such awesome, relaxing, and peaceful (horrible, treacherous, and bad-tempered) mountains back home. We're even happier to have hiked them for years, because whatever the world's thrown at us - from Patagonia to New Zealand to Japan - we're always confident it can't be harder than the Whites.

Except maybe our next stop. In the Himalayas. Maybe - just maybe - those mountains will be steeper, more gnarled, and angrier than the Whites. But we're not holding our breath.

Two Americans in Beijing

2014-09-26T00:16:00.001-07:00

During our travels we've noticed that Americans are almost always over prepared. If you see a couple on an easy, short day hike and they're carrying 6 liters of water, trekking poles and an extra coat, they're American. If they're in flip flops with a bottle of coke, probably not American. In this sense, we are very American.

And so, ten months before our stop in China, we had already booked a tour guide and driver for two days, and reserved a hotel room. We also did (very) extensive research on China's 72-hour visa free option to ensure we wouldn't get trapped in the airport.

When we arrived, we felt a little silly for all our preparations. The 72-hour visa free line took about ten minutes, and went like clockwork. Expecting a chaotic, crowded city with signs only in Mandarin, we were greeted by a modern, clean city, full of nicely landscaped parks, signs in English and friendly, helpful people. But we already had our guide and driver booked, so we put on our shorts, t-shirts, sneakers, sunscreen, and day pack and set out for two days of hardcore touristing, American style.

On our first evening, sans guide, we wandered over to Tiananmen Square and were promptly confused. The whole area is under a very communist lockdown, with several cameras on every post, police everywhere, and airport-like security checks to get into the square. Military police also cordoned off a huge area at about 5:45. Initially concerned, we eventually realized it was for the nightly flag-lowering. So, with thousands of Chinese from the provinces, we watched the flag come down then headed off to dinner.

The next day we found a great little diner-style restaurant catering to local office workers. We broke our fast on tofu soup, steamed dumplings with cabbage, and some sort of fried thingy (delicious).

Our guide arrived promptly at 9:00 AM, and we set off to see the sights of Beijing. The Temple of Heaven, Tiananmen (again), the Forbidden City, some old hutong areas, and a very touristy but entertaining acrobat show. We also found out that Brook is big in China: several groups of Chinese tourists asked to take pictures with him -- not Erin, only Brook (maybe it's the beard?) -- and like a good, benevolent American tourist he complied. That night we tried hot pot for the first time, with help from some very patient restaurant staff, and crashed hard after our full-on tourist day. Day two was a trip to the Great Wall, which really is great. And hilly. We did a nice 3-hour hike along it with our guide, pestering her with questions the whole way.

And what trip to Beijing, formerly Peking, would be complete without chowing down on some Peking Duck? And so, to complete our tourist experience, that evening we visited the birthplace of a famous Peking duck chain and ordered the whole show. It was delicious...

More pictures of Beijing and the Great Wall can be found here: https://plus.google.com/photos/103829313469224560701/albums/6062946706545928401

Our very brief stop in Beijing got us to rethink some of our previous notions about China - it was far more modern, and Westernized, than we expected; the people were happy to meet Americans; and it was very well organized. But our thoughts on the government didn't change much: Facebook is blocked, Google was banned (making it impossible to update our blog), we couldn't access the New York Times, and all that modern development came at a big cost to bulldozed local communities. We asked our guide how people in Beijing felt about Google being blocked and she said, "They don't like it, but what can you do?" Being American, that's a sentiment that's very difficult to understand.

Mongolia galleries

2014-09-24T17:01:00.001-07:00

Apparently our Mongolia post repeated a link to some photos while omitting a link to pictures from our horseback riding trip. We've fixed that problem in the original post, but in case you missed it here's the correct photo gallery:

https://plus.google.com/photos/103829313469224560701/albums/6061898533826491617

Enjoy!

Mongolia

2014-09-23T04:21:00.001-07:00

It probably wasn't until day three of our horse trek that the experience of being in Mongolia really hit us. We'd already been in-country about a week, driving through huge, sparsely populated valleys, visiting remote monasteries, and witnessing nomadic life on the steppe, but somehow Mongolia remained something to observe from a distance. But spending a long, cold night in a ger with a nomadic family, communicating with gestures and the ten words of Mongolian we know, cooking up the trout that Brook caught in the river 20 feet away, eating homemade curds and fresh-killed goat, and drinking endless cups of salty milky tea transformed Mongolia from observation to experience. Plus, the next morning our guide was nowhere to be found. And we were 50km from town. But at least we still had our horses and the very hospitable family who offered their ger for another night if he didn't show...

Back up a few days. We arrived in Ulaanbaatar on a long red-eye from Thailand (with a 3-hour stop in China) a bit tired but otherwise unscathed. As promised, our driver met us at the airport to commence a 4-day jeep trip from UB to Tsetserleg, a provincial capital in central Mongolia. It also has an ancient monastery and a good museum:

Our "jeep" proved to be a Honda CRV, and for the next few days, we should have been filming a Honda commercial. We took that thing on roads you wouldn't drive a tractor on, through rivers, across sharp volcanic rock fields, over two mountain ranges (no roads, just guesswork by the driver and our GPS), and up endless valleys. We had a hell of a time, and only got stuck once.

Our Achilles heel was the tire that kept running flat after a bad patch job, but luckily we got that sorted before the mountain ranges... Turns out we were supposed to have a Land Cruiser for this particular route, only it was in the shop so our driver took his wife's car. With no spare tire. But we made it, and enjoyed our first taste of Mongolia along the way. Here's our chariot being repaired and some photos from the drive:

https://plus.google.com/photos/103829313469224560701/albums/6061891687070109329

Next up was a down day in Tsetserleg before our 5-day horse trek. Tsetserleg is a town of maybe 10,000-20,000 people nestled between a beautiful river and a mountain range that's a national park. It's also home to the Fairfield Guest House, run by Murray and Elizabeth, an Australian couple who moved their family to Mongolia and were instrumental in organizing our entire Mongolian trip.

On the day we were setting out for our horse trek Tsetserleg was hosting a large, traditional wrestling competition. Turns out the horses used for the wrestler's grand entrance were also the horses we were using for our trek. This resulted in a delayed start and some very fatigued horses (most Mongolian wrestlers are big boys), but we also got a close up look at the wrestling competition and reassurance that our horses were considered well behaved by Mongolian standards.

When traveling in Mongolia, especially when traveling by horse, you get a true sense of the nomadic life. Animals everywhere (goats, sheep, yaks, horses); people living in felt gers (yurts); food based on the animals they raise (mostly dairy and meat, almost no vegetables); and nomadic hospitality that means just showing up at someone's ger gets you invited in for tea and curds (which are salty, tangy, and sweet all at once - an acquired taste but oddly good) and orom (thickened dried cream that looks gross but is absolutely delicious). Everyone sits around the woodstove, shoots the shit (or just stares at you) and drinks tea. And, if you need to stay the night you're welcome camp or sleep in the ger. They'll also make you dinner. Our first night saw us chowing down on fried organ-meat dumplings that Erin helped to make on wood Brook split. Day two brought a long ride through the rain, with a lunch stop for more delicious dairy products and some freshly boiled yak heart and liver (we passed on the kidney); night two was spent on a trout-filled river with a lovely family that cooked up delicious fried homemade noodles with sheep meat; day three started with no guide, but after a few phone calls he arrived on motorbike at 11:30 am (turns out he had a family emergency the night before and took off without telling anyone - Mongolians are not known for their communication skills) and then improved greatly - we fished, crossed a mountain range on horseback with five hours of hard riding and slept amidst goats in an almost-empty 100km-long river valley; day four saw another mountain range and a chance to help some local boys cut hay for the winter; and day five meant galloping the horses at full speed across the steppe.

The hours on horseback seemed to just slip past, with the valleys and rivers rolling by under mostly clear skies, the scenery stretching out to the horizon. Nights passed in our tent or ger under starry skies. It was a surreal, ethereal experience, and we're definitely going back. There's one valley in particular that needs a couple more weeks and a better fishing rod... It's a story best told with pictures, so here they are:

https://plus.google.com/photos/103829313469224560701/albums/6061898533826491617

After the horse trek we had planned to go camping, but it snowed, so we spent two nights at nearby hot springs, went for great day hikes, had our 5th wedding anniversary (with a bottle of champagne, no less, courtesy of our hosts), found a geocache, and enjoyed the scenery around Tsetserleg.

Here are pics from town, including some entertaining wrestler shots:

https://plus.google.com/photos/103829313469224560701/albums/6061895522582521217

Even the 10-hour bus ride back to Ulaanbaatar had some local color:

Mongolia definitely makes our top-five list for the year, and may even be our favorite place so far. It's challenging: weird food, no toilets or running water on the steppe; no one speaks English, no paved roads to speak of, and a very alien culture. But it's awesome. The people, once you get to know them, are mostly kind and helpful, and the country is wild and endless. The kind of place you can visit but never truly leave because something of you remains there, while the rest of you longs to return to find that missing piece and to learn why it stayed behind.

On the Theraputic Effects of Diving

2014-08-31T20:41:00.001-07:00

The gale struck at 3:00 pm on our fifth and last day of diving in Thailand. Our small wooden boat was somewhere between two islands, and hours from shore. Not that we could see dry land, with visibility about 200 meters through the driving rain. The eastern monsoon had struck in force, surprising us all on a day that had begun sunny and calm. But there we were, tossed about in 10 foot waves, with 50 knot gusts threatening to turn our day of diving into our last. As we sat on the top deck getting soaked and cold (better than the cabin, though, should we capsize), we remained oddly zen, perhaps taking comfort knowing that we were in it together.

The storm let up, but only after we made it back to port. A few cocktails later and the worst was forgotten. And what the storm couldn't alter was the hours we had spent together underwater, looking at fish and coral and other wonders and trusting each other in silence.

Diving, we have decided, is great for relationships. Not only is it a fun shared experience, but while underwater you depend on your diving buddy to watch your back and to be there if something goes wrong. From the pre-dive equipment checks to hand signals during the dive, the level of trust is high. And you spend a lot of time together in silence, underwater, learning to communicate with simple gestures and to read your partner's body language.

Diving is also a good metaphor for successful marriage: diving rewards a slow-and-steady pace. Divers who rush about in all directions simply use up their air and scare the fish. Those who can relax, take their time, and sort out problems calmly fare much better. And in addition to all that, dodgy boat trips make you realize how much you care for one another.

We recently spent a week in the fishing town of Chaloklum, on the Thai island of Koh Phangan. In addition to good diving (10 dives over five days, including an advanced diving course for Erin and an awesome sunset dive), we enjoyed the rhythm of small town island life. The locals seemed happy, the seafood curry was great (and cheap), and the ex-pat diving community was simultaneously amusing and fun. Here's a link to our photo gallery: https://plus.google.com/photos/103829313469224560701/albums/6053723493003017633

After 11 days of enjoying island life, we've spent the past three days exploring the urban chaos of Bangkok. More to come on that, but here's a glimpse:

Tonight we fly to Mongolia, where we'll find out if five days of horseback riding is as good for relationships as scuba diving.

Contrasting Vietnam: Hanoi to Sapa

2014-08-19T04:29:00.001-07:00

Hanoi, by all appearances, is a sprawling hive of humanity that has changed only in appearance over the centuries. The narrow streets still host busy commerce by day and dirty street-vendor food stalls by night. The old quarter from our hotel:

Old Hanoi is still segregated by the type of trade; one street may contain nothing but eyeglasses shops (where Brook picked up new lenses for $25) while the next street's shops sell nothing but adhesives. "It's so easy to shop in Hanoi," quipped our guide one afternoon, "you just need to go to the right street." Picture Home Depot spread over 10 square miles and you get the idea. But now, instead of quaint shophouses and bicycles, Hanoi is consumed by ugly Chinese-inspired concrete buildings and overrun by motorbikes. We spent a week there.

The first few days were hell: dodging traffic and street vendors and trash in 108 degree heat. And at night, what little is left of the sidewalks (after being used as moto parking lots) is turned into a string of food stands, usually manned by a nose-picking old lady who likes to reach in and sample the food, dishes washed in the gutter, grease everywhere. Then we got the hang of it. We learned to just launch into traffic and let the motos flow around us; learned to get up early to stroll around the lake at 6 and watch the old folks at their tai chi; learned where to find good espresso and decent food (although we each got sick at least once), and most importantly learned to find a little peace among the madness. Here's a link to the photos we took around town (they don't do a great job at capturing the grittiness since we didn't carry the camera at night or to crowded areas): https://plus.google.com/photos/103829313469224560701/albums/6048475767089707217

We also spent five days in Sapa, a tiny town at 5,000 feet hard by the Chinese border in the hills of north-central Vietnam. Mt. Fansipan looms over the town at 10,000 feet and the valleys are populated by minority groups that include the Black H'mong, Flower H'mong, and Red Dzao. These names relate to their manner of dress, which hasn't changed in centuries. Women still spin hemp and hand dye it; men still work rice paddies and corn fields with water buffalo; families still live in squalid portable wooden huts with dirt floors and livestock running about. No one is quite sure, but it's believed these groups were migrants from China and before that possibly Mongolia. Historically nomadic farmers, the French forced them to stay put. That has led to other problems, but also made the area a rich cultural center. Typical village houses:

Sapa itself has grown into a tourist town full of people looking for a good hike or "authentic experience." While there, we had both. We got in three good hikes, visited a few villages, and had lunch with the locals. Here we are after our second hike with our local guide:

On our third hike we hired a private guide, So, and had lunch in her house with her husband (who's an impressive cook) three kids, pigs, dogs (they only eat the "naughty" ones), and chickens. Lunch took a few hours and, while not exactly hygenic by our standards is was remarkably well and carefully prepared. And delicious. We had visited the market with So earlier in the day to buy ingredients, and it was interesting to watch as each one was cooked over an open fire pit in the hut. Tofu with tomatoes, morning glory (a green, not the flower), another green, bamboo, and of course rice. Finished off by a few rounds of "happy water" - homemade rice wine. She then led us back to town, where we re-entered civization.

A view from town:

It's a funny place, Sapa. Our hotel and the local resturaunts were all very nice, but the whole place depends on these poor (in a very literal way) locals for tourism. We used a guide company that pays fair wages (and we paid for

lunch for So's family) but other locals aren't as lucky. As a result, there are hordes of local women in Sapa who try to sell handicrafts to tourists. They are aggressive and at times annoying, but much depends on them: families literally starve at times and infant/child mortality is about 30% due to malnutrition and no medical care. Education is basic. These are poor people, and buying a bracelet or blanket can make a big difference. Here's a typical group of ladies about to ambush a busloads of unsuspecting tourists:

We learned from our guide how to spot genuine handicrafts from imported Chinese junk, and ended up picking up a few items made from their local textile: hemp fabric dyed naturally with indigo. Here are the vats they use:

To get a sense of how hard these women work to make a sale (to say nothing of the hours required to grow hemp, spin the hemp, make cloth by hand, dye it 40 times in indigo, sew it into a garment, then embroider it), consider this: one evening we mentioned to a local lady (who followed us to dinner, trying to sell us bracelets and skirts) that the baby carriers we'd seen were quite nice. The next morning, uninvited, she showed up at our hotel (keep in mind that these villages are a 2-3 hour walk from town) daughter in tow, waited outside while we ate our fancy breakfast, then proceeded to show us not one but several baby carriers. Here she is modeling one with her very bemused 7-year-old:

And here's another lady (we bought this blanket from her):

We grew to love these ladies, and Sapa, and left all too soon. After a bumpy (but pleasant) night train back to Hanoi we wondered at the contrast and wished we hadn't left. Here's our Sapa photo gallery: https://plus.google.com/photos/103829313469224560701/albums/6048483075624521905

While we enjoyed aspects of Vietnam, like Hoi An, Sapa, and a few friendly locals we met, we were largely discouraged by the state of things. To put it bluntly, the Vietnamese government is a bloody mess. It is a communist machine that exists soley for itself and does little

for its people. Even Cambodia seems better off, despite having fewer resources and a recent murderous history. And ironically, despite it's communist bent, Vietnamese culture seems much more concerned with "cheap-cheap" and a quick buck than with any forward-thinking or communal ideas/ideals. Apart from a few special places, it seemed a mean, selfish place, rife with cheating and corruption. Needless to say, it was not our favorite stop on this grand tour of ours.

But that's not to disparage some of the individuals we met along the way, like the folks in Hoi An and Sapa, the lovely lady we shared a train compartment with for 18 hours, the honest taxi driver who showed up at 4:30 AM yet charged us half the prior rate, or the university students in Hanoi who showed us around town all day - for free. As with any place, the collective is often worse than the individual (because at bottom we're all just individuals who want to thrive), creating a strange dichotomy and providing proof that you should not judge a people by their loudmouths or their government. We probably won't be back to Vietnam, but hope the people living there are able to overcome the odds and thrive. And maybe learn a little hygiene along the way...

Cruising along the tourist trail

2014-08-15T04:50:00.001-07:00

When you're traveling for a year it's easy to get fixated on staying off the tourist trail. This is partly from a desire for "authentic" experiences, but there's also some ego involved; a need to prove to yourself that you're a traveler, not a tourist. Sometimes, though, the tourist trail exists for a very good reason. We experienced this on some of the Great Walks in New Zealand, while on the Great Barrier Reef, at Angkor Wat, and most recently Halong Bay. All of these places are spectacles well worth a visit despite the crowds, and so you go, knowing full well that yes, it will be busy, less-than-authentic, and probably overpriced. But awesome at the same time.

Halong Bay was formed by the uplift of the sea floor, which subsequently eroded to form thousands of dramatic limestone sea mounts rising vertically from the water. It's a stunning sight, but increasingly marred by the over 500 licensed cruise boats. Unfortunately, those boats, along with the locals living on the bay, are polluting the water with sewage and trash. There are safety rules, and aesthetic rules (all boats must be painted white), but there's not much in the way of environmental regulation. Hopefully, the tourism industry will realize that it's the natural beauty people come to see, and that they need to protect this special place.

We took a one-night trip to Halong Bay about a week ago, and it was full of kitschy tourism. Cave hike with colored lights? Check. Morning Tai Chi? Check. But it was also a very peaceful, beautiful experience and one we're not likely to forget. Here's the photo gallery: https://plus.google.com/photos/103829313469224560701/albums/6046222136765281329