JB and Cyn's Great Adventure

Cappadocia Escapades

2022-10-16T10:14:00.084-05:00

Cappadocia Panorama, Turkey

Antalya is a very large city. A bit intimidating at first. We pretty much stayed in the old part of the city, which made things more manageable. As mentioned, we didn’t love our hotel, but it did have location, location. The first day got us a bit frustrated, to say the least. We have been in the take-it-as-it-comes mode for almost the entire trip, but a bit of low point loomed as we tried to ply the streets of Kaleici (Old Town Antalya). Lonely Planet gave a walking trip that we usually like to follow. We had great luck with it in Istanbul. Well, trying to follow any kind of walking tour description in Kaleici is a formula for frustration. Streets not on a grid, no street signs, and even our Google Maps seemed confused.

Mosque, Old Town, Antalya

Finally, we just gave it up and walked where the wind took us. No question Antalya is a popular place. Actually for good reason, as it hugs the Mediterranean, is very hip, and definitely has a history.

On the second day in Antalya we wanted to visit the Antayla Museum, which got great reviews. To get there we wanted to take the tram. Wanting to, and actually doing it for the first time, are two different things. We had an idea of what we needed to do, but damn if we could find the tram stop. Finally we had success and a couple of locals, who liked Cynthia, helped us get the required tram pass. In our experience the the tram is a great way to see any city. Antalya was no exception. The streets were vibrant, many of the stores totally upscale, parks along the way, and the last stop was the museum. That made it easy.

Roman Heads, Antalya Museum

As mentioned in previous blogs, the museum scene in Turkey is totally together. They have so much to draw upon, and they do it so well. The Antayla museum has an amazing collection of large Roman sculptures, which have been some of our favorites the entire time in Turkey. Cynthia’s photos will show examples.

Apollo, Antalya Museum

Urn, 5th-4th Century B.C., Antalya Museum

We had a rather amusing experience while there. It seemed we had the museum almost entirely to ourselves. Then we heard an announcement that a play was going to begin in the theatre. We had no idea what this related to. Soon we saw a sign indicating we were in the theater. It seemed to be a part of the museum, as the displays were much like what we had been seeing. We stood around and waited, very few people. Then we heard the children. Before we knew it we were surrounded by at least 50 school children. The teachers directed them to sit in an orderly fashion on the floor, which gave us the first indication of where the performance was going to take place. A door to an adjoining room opened and actors, in costumes that mimicked the Roman sculptures displayed in that part of the museum, slowly emerged and took positions among the sculptures.

Sculptures and Actors, Antalya Museum

The play began. All in Turkish, of course, but easy to follow. The leader has a musical contest, he chooses a winner, the loser gets pissed, puts a curse on the leader, who then grows donkey ears. Now he is the buffoon of the group and they all make fun of him. Of course it has a happy ending and all the children leave with a smile on their face. Cynthia and I exited the museum not far behind, feeling we had a wonderful museum experience. You can view a short video of a portion of the play here: https://photos.app.goo.gl/Q4mLtdNkhFzfpYRi9 Due to a technical problem, you will have to reload the blog after viewing the video.

Frankly, I don’t think we really gave Antalya the attention it deserved, but both Cynthia and I were ready to move on. We had done the Old Town, and just didn’t have the will to push much beyond that.

Our final destination before returning to Istanbul for the flight back to the U.S. was Cappadocia. In our pre-trip research we considered this to be the potential highlight of the trip. We weren’t disappointed. The drive from Antalya to Cappadocia was the longest we had on the entire trip. Most of it was over flat, rather boring, scenery. That certainly ended when we arrived in Goreme.

Rose Valley, Cappadocia, Turkey

The place is known for its bizarre rock formations formed millions of year ago by the erosion of the rather soft volcanic tuff. Humans began making caves in the rock to live in thousands of years ago.

Cappadocia Cave Living, Turkey

Cave Church, Cappadocia, Turkey

What it is also known for are the underground cities built by the Christians in the 3rd century. They were definitely a place of refuge as they were being heavily persecuted at the time. We went into one of the cave cities that went down seven stories! It was fascinating, but an extreme physical challenge at the same time. Try bending over (maximum height 4 feet in most passages) in a narrow tunnel while going up some 85 not well cut stairs. And one couldn’t see shit. I’m glad I experienced it, but wouldn’t give it a go again.

JB in an Underground City Refuge, Cappadocia, Turkey

Underground City Refuge, Cappadocia, Turkey

As I have relied on so many times in this blog, Cynthia’s photos can give a much better idea of what we saw in Cappadocia than my writing can. There was so much variety, from what they call the fairy chimneys (Cynthia thought they were totally phallic) to castles built on huge rock mounds.

Fairy Chimneys, Cappadocia, Turkey

It is incredible that people lived in these rock caves, but supposedly the first humans did so from the sixth century BC onward.

Fairy Chimneys, Cappadocia, Turkey

Goreme, the main town that people stay in, was a bit of a trip itself. Hotels and restaurants galore. Almost every hotel had the word cave incorporated into their name. Ours was the Aren Cave Hotel and it was by far our favorite of the entire trip.

Our "cave" room, Aren Cave Hotel, Goreme, Cappadocia, Turkey

Unfortunately, there are some downsides caused by the hordes of tourists that come to experience Cappadocia. Mainly the ATV’s. There are hundreds of them for rent. They are getting a bad rap from the locals, for good cause. We personally didn’t experience many as the season is winding down. Still, a horde of ATV’s racing by is the last thing one wants to see in a spectacular and peaceful place like Cappadocia.

Cave Church, Cappadocia, Turkey

There would be an argument that one can’t leave Turkey without seeing the Whirling Dervish Ceremony. On the last night in Goreme we did just that. It is correct to call it a ceremony rather than a dance. There is no question the impetus behind the concept is religious devotion.

The Dervishes Preparing to Whirl

How these men sustained the twirling motion without falling on their faces is a miracle. But then I have seen other religious inspired acts that defy human capabilities, like the Thaipusam festival that I witnessed in Indonesia. Serious body piercing with no blood. There is an entire ritual to the Dervish Ceremony that includes music, a type of chanting, respect to the different participants, and then the twirling itself. Though photography was not allowed during the ceremony itself, they did a brief presentation at the end where Cynthia was able to capture a few photos and a video. Pretty impressive I must say. You can view a short video of the Dervishes Whirling here:

https://photos.app.goo.gl/czyyG1vZbpVoHFbf7

Due to a technical problem, you will have to reload the blog after viewing the video.

The Dervishes Whirling

When we leave a country I like to give general observations of the country, or countries we have visited. I have to say our overall impression of Turkey is extremely positive. When traveling, and not speaking the language, one doesn’t totally understand the political winds and how they are blowing. I know that Turkey’s leader, Recep Tayyip Erdoğan, is right wing and not terribly popular in the West. But how does that play out in the lives of the Turkish people? Of course I have a limited view, but this is what I have seen. The Turkish people are industrious, out and about, and doing what they want with few restrictions. There was very little police presence. On the highways we never saw what is common in Guatemala, military road blocks. There just wasn’t a feeling of the people being watched or controlled. Virtually no military presence. A few traffic police, but that’s about it.

Kadikoy Market, Istanbul

The infrastructure of the country is excellent. The roads were every bit as good as the States, sometimes better. No trash problems. They keep a clean scene. Safety never seemed to be a worrying factor. The people are out and about and not once did we feel intimidated. It is a culture that likes to be on the streets. It is a Muslim country, the call to prayer is evident several times a day, but I must say I never witnessed people rushing to the mosques. The women were dressed in varied styles. It went from full burkas (rare), to regular western street clothes. Again I want to emphasize that this is from a tourist’s viewpoint. I’m sure I don’t get the full picture, but still, I am totally impressed with Turkey as a country.

Kadikoy Market, Istanbul

To fully enjoy Turkey and what it has to offer, one must be in decent physical shape. There is a lot of walking to be done and places like Cappadocia demand both strength and flexibility. In the States many of the places we visited would be a law suit waiting to happen. The variety in the country is enviable. There is so much to experience and see. From the Roman ruins, to the marvelous Mediterranean, to physical phenomenons one will never see elsewhere. Add to that good food, friendly people, Raki, an amazing history and a safe place to travel, and it is hard to beat.

Turkish Coffee and Baklava

The trip back to the States was not a piece of cake. It could be more exhausting than any part of the actual travel in Turkey. Nine hour time difference, the dreaded Frankfort airport, the body trying to make sense of it all. We are back in the States, however, and glowing with the memories of the trip. After the dreaded covid it was so good to get back to traveling to unknown places. By the way, the mask thing is done for the most part. Has covid disappeared? No. But for whatever reason people are choosing to get out like they used to. So far so good for Cynthia and I on that front.

Again, thank you for reading the blog and we’ll catch you next time.

Hagia Sophia at Night, Istanbul, Turkey

Blue Water, a Little Jewelry, and Jumping Kaş

2022-10-03T09:01:00.003-05:00

Panorama of Kaş, Turkey

It seems the nature of our trip has changed. Not for the better or worse, just different. We have moved from the ruins to the water. It started on the road. The drive between Pamukkale and Fethiye was a beautiful drive through the mountains, which we hadn’t encountered yet. We are not talking the Alps here, but beautiful pine covered slopes that were fun to drive through. It was the first time that both Cynthia and I said, “Now this would be fun on a motorcycle.” As I am sure many of you have experienced when traveling, arriving in a new destination is a challenge. One doesn’t want to let first impressions control as they are often colored by confusion, quick judgements, and getting it wrong. Fethiye fit that bill. Google maps took us on an obscure route to be sure, and we were often in back street neighborhoods. Then the traffic was a bitch, in contrast to the previous 4 hours in which we saw a car every 1/2 hour. Ok, enough bitching.

View from our Balcony, Fethiye, Turkey

This was the first AirBnB that we stayed in. The apartment was large, with a balcony that overlooked the Fethiye harbor. Hot tub and all. Not too shabby. Fethiye is definitely yacht city. There were hundreds of them, including a few that looked as though they were owned by the Russian oligarchs. The town has a natural harbor which is ideal for mooring in calm waters. There were many yachts that were “on the hook”, out in the middle of the bay, thus avoiding any docking fees. Of course they had to have a dingy, many of which totally outdid our simple Lake Atitlan boat, Cynthia Kate. One observation that I really liked was that at least 75%, if not more, of the boats were of the sailing variety.

Sailboats at Fetihye Harbor

I always thought that made more of a sport out of the yacht thing. One more observation, then I’ll leave the boats behind (maybe not entirely). There seems to be a lot of hanging going on. On our subsequent boat trips, brief description later, we saw many yachts in deserted places looking as though they were in no hurry to go anywhere. Exactly what does one do with their time? Not sure but you better keep the booze under control!

Ruins of Kayakoy, Turkey

We had gotten a tip from some fellow travelers to visit the ruins of Kayakoy. Now as those of you who have read previous blogs know, we are usually talking ruins of 2 or 3 thousand years ago. Not in this case. These are ruins of a village abandoned 100 years ago. Frankly, not only did they not have the history, but they didn’t have the class either. It turns out that after the Turkish War of Independence in 1923, the League of Nations orchestrated an exchange of populations. The Greek Muslims went to Turkey, and the Ottoman Christians went to Greece. We’ve seen that before. India, with Pakistan and Bangladesh, comes to mind. Anyway, there were more Christians leaving than Muslims coming so this town ended up completely abandoned.

Ruins of Kayakoy, Turkey

The setting was nice, the buildings were all basically the same, and one needed the footing of a mountain goat to traverse the paths. Still it was worth a 1/2 day, though it didn’t blow us away. Cynthia’s photos will give you an idea.

One of the things tourists do in Fethiye is take what is called the 12 Island Tour. Well we weren’t sure what that meant, but we got on Trip Advisor and found an outfit called Rastapus Boat Tours. This seemed like an easy alternative to the 4 day trips that are popular. Besides, anything named Rastapus has to be mellow. And it was.

Rastapus, Fethiye, Turkey

The captain was a Turkish Bob Marley, totally laid back. He had been a Telecom technician and gave it up for the leisurely life. He said, what do I want, money or quality time. He chose the latter. We only had seven paying customers on the boat. In addition were the three man crew, and the true boss, the captain’s mother. We had a great day. Basically one goes from bay to bay, anchors, and then you hang for maybe an hour. Swimming in the clear cool waters of the Mediterranean was a total joy.

Mediterranean Cove, Fethiye, Turkey

Then on one of the stops they made a lunch that was truly superb. Ten different items. All delicious. Did I mention alcohol? Despite the many choices, Cynthia and I got through the entire day with one Efes beer each. Oh, we would make such good sailors!

After three nights it was time to move on. Our next destination was the small seaside town called Kaş. Actually pronounced Cash.

Kaş, Turkey

What a great place. Touristy for sure, but the narrow pedestrian-only streets, and the beautiful setting, make it a pleasure. Cynthia went jewelry shopping when we found a store that had some funk. She got a hollowed out basket shaped pair of silver earrings, and a ring we both thought was so imaginative.

Jewelry Shopping! Kaş, Turkey

Frankly, it is often me that is shopping jewelry, but not this time. Well, not exactly. The next night I went back and bought a silver bracelet that I didn’t want to resist.

The next day we decided to take advantage of our car. By the way, I am so glad we have it. It has expanded our horizons on this trip so much.

Thank you Ms. Peugeot!

There was a small village, Üçağiz, about an 1-1/2 hour drive from Kas. It was known for an ancient castle and an underwater city.

Kekova Castle

Of course one goes by boat. For $70 we got a boat and captain all to ourselves. It was again great to get out on the waters of the Mediterranean and experience some of the clearest waters imaginable. We swam off the boat, and by the way it is still hot here, and loved it. The sunken city wasn’t much to see, but who cared. They have banned any kind of diving around the underwater ruins, and frankly that would be about the only way to see them. Bottom line, we had a great scenic drive, a fun boat trip, a refreshing swim, and all of it spur of the moment without a plan. Can’t beat it.

Sunken City, Kekova Island, Turkey

The night life in Kaş is definitely happening. The restaurants, at least the ones with the buzz, were packed. Many Turks for sure, but also we could hear German and a plentiful amount of Brits. As we were walking the streets, we stumbled upon an unlikely place called the Old House Shot Bar. Cynthia’s photo will describe it. We have found a taste for Raki, an anise based liquor that is reminiscent of Sambuca or Pastis. After a simple pide dinner we couldn’t resist giving the Old House a try.

Old House Shot Bar, Kaş, Turkey

As we were standing in front, no seating, another couple ambled up. The man ordered this exotic shot that had at least 8 different ingredients, all in a large shot glass, but a shot glass none the less. We couldn’t help but admire the artistry of the bar tender, nor could we not comment to the couple. It turned out they were Russian. Previously, from afore mentioned boat captain, we had heard that business was down because of the war. Apparently the Russians and the Ukrainians liked to vacation in Turkey, but they had virtually stopped coming. Somehow our conversation turned political. I said from a human aspect it was such a bitch that this war had happened. I also said I didn’t understand the reasons that had caused it. They looked at each other, then us, and said, “Putin”. They were obviously upset about it, and said they had no choice but to return to Russia tomorrow. They were not happy about it. A brief, but telling, conversation. As we parted, we toasted to health and peace.

The drive from Kaş to Antayla had long stretches where the road hugged the Mediterranean. Steep cliffs on one side, with the highway cutting into the mountain, the shining sea on the other. We decided to check out a small place called Çirali, which we had read about. We thought we could get lucky and repeat our experience that we had in Üçağiz. Well, think again. The winding small road reached the beach alright, but once there the road was so small a car could hardly fit. But that didn’t stop the hordes of beach goers that were hoteling and camping on the narrow passage. It just wasn’t our scene and we literally got to the end of the road, turned around, and headed back to the main highway.

Hadrian's Gate, Antalya, Turkey

Our arrival in Antalya was also an experience. We knew we were staying in the Old City, which is a good thing. Finding one's way on the narrow streets with virtually no street signs, is another. Google maps came through and we finally found our hotel. Great location, mediocre room. I have to say that we have not been impressed with the hotels we have stayed at in Turkey. Not horrible by any means, but not memorable either. We have been paying between $45 and $80 a night. We like AirBnb’s, but when we looked they didn’t seem that impressive either. Oh well, if that is the only complaint we have on this trip we are very lucky people. More on our time in Antayla in the next blog.

We move on in another couple of days. We only have one more destination, plus another 2 nights in Istanbul, before returning to the States. The road has been good to us. Catch us in the next blog. And as always, thanks for reading.

A Cat in My Hat! Antalya, Turkey

Ephesus, the Healing Waters and Aphrodite

2022-09-27T14:07:00.024-05:00

Having fun in Hierapolis

We could have stayed in Canakkale another day or so, but it was time to move on. We spent most of Tuesday doing the 6 hour drive between there and Selcuk, which is the home of the Ephesus ruins, the most important archeological site in Turkey. The drive was effortless, except at the very end when Waze took us way out of our way, and led us to some obscure apartment building. All we could say was, WTF! Our room in Selcuk had tasteful decoration, again was on the small side, but we liked it. Unfortunately no refrigerator or electric tea pot to heat our morning coffee water, but hey, we survived. The streets were narrow and quiet, and a large tree shaded the outside breakfast area.

Library of Celsus, Ephesus

We spent three days visiting ancient ruins, some of which date back to 3,000 BC. They were all unique, so we never got the feeling we were looking at the same thing twice. Again, rather than try and describe them, Cynthia’s photos can tell a better story. We spent an entire day at Ephesus, which definitely lives up to its exalted reputation. The crowds were heavy, but that was expected. The site is so large that one can always find quiet spots. What was difficult to find was shade. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky, and the sun, though not the temperature, was full force.

The People in Ephesus

Ephesus became even more dramatic after visiting the museum in Selcuk. The museum is extremely impressive and just the right size. The eyes definitely do not glaze over. A few things stand out. Marble, marble, marble. Apparently it came from mines nearby, but there is just so much of it. Sculptures, walls, streets. The amount of marble artifacts are mind boggling. Hundreds, if not thousands, of columns that you would think would be in museums are just lying about.

Fallen Columns, Ephesus

All in a Row, Ephesus

Sculpture totally stands out. Some of the sculptures and ceramics date back to the 7th century BC. The Romans, in particular, loved their sculpture and hundreds of them have been excavated. They were not all in one piece, in fact rarely so, and it so impressive to see how pieces were put back together to make a whole again. It was often like a jigsaw puzzle. Some of the sculptures we saw were massive, especially during the Roman period. Even though we are talking a long period of time, I am still totally impressed with the volume of creations. And it is reported that only about 1/3 of Ephesus has been uncovered, with many of the new discoveries uncovered for the first time in the 20th century.

Female Figure, Ephesus Museum

Group Sculpture, Ephesus Museum

Large Scale Aphrodite, Ephesus Museum

The next day we visited Priene and Didyma. In ways these experiences were richer than the time spent at Ephesus. Priene is like a poor cousin of Ephesus (the admission fee of $1.25 vs $20 tells a lot), yet we really liked it. One can wander anywhere they want, shade is easy to find, and we had the place almost entirely to ourselves. Our rental car made that possible, as large tour groups, which are common at Ephesus, don’t go there.

Cynthia at Priene

Didyma, the Temple of Apollo, is small, but again we were impressed with the magnitude of detail and scale that went into the building of the city. Again, few visitors. The theaters, both in Ephesus and Priene, are of particular interest. They are well preserved and show that societies that lived there took an interest in art and performance. It wasn’t hard to let one’s imagination fly.

Didyma

An interesting aside is that all three of the archeological sites we visited used to be on the Aegean Sea, and were critically located as sea ports. Today there is no water in sight. The silt from the Caystrus River eventually turned the sea into farm land. From Priene, which has a high elevation, we could see the sea off in the distance. It took, however, a forty five minute drive to reach the water. The process took a couple of thousand years, but still.

This used to be the Aegean Sea!

Selcuk itself has its charm. Were it not for the ruins I am sure it would be a sleepy farming town. A large part of the town, which is small, is pedestrian only, so it made wandering the sidewalks a pleasure. We found a restaurant we liked, and another that was so-so. Selcuk didn’t have the interest of Canakkale, but being land locked doesn’t help.

Cynthia had a hard time saying goodbye to the cats that either lived at our hotel, or were frequent visitors, but after four nights it was time to move on. We drove inland for about 3-1/2 hours to reach the town of Pamukkale. The last part of the drive has you wondering where you are going. The road is almost a two track, no traffic, and nothing but fields are in sight. Then, off in the distance, you see this mass of white. Now neither Cynthia nor I were sure of what the Travertines of Pamukkale were, and when I saw them from a distance I was not exactly blown away. Well, over the course of the next couple of days our impression took a big turn upwards. For one it is a World Heritage site, a distinction that does not come easy. Let’s start with the name Pamukkale. Pamuk is cotton in Turkish, and Kale is castle. So, the cotton castle. Actually it is calcite. Looking at it from our hotel balcony (we scored a prime room in Pamukkale, $68 a night) it looks like a mountain side that had a good snow fall the night before. Except not really. Again, I think you need to look at Cynthia’s photos to get a better idea.

The Travertines from our hotel room balcony.

I have to say that our day of exploration of the Travertines was one of the more bizarre travel experiences I have had. First off, to protect the calcite surface, one must go barefoot. The few security personnel that were present made sure of it. Now back in the barefoot hippy days this might have been a piece of cake. But not for the soft feet of two people in their seventies.

Detail of the Travertines, Pamukkale

Actually most of the surface was smooth, and not too jagged, but there were places where walking was just not easy. Plus you are going up a mountain! At the same time mineral rich waters are coming down the mountain, from a spring way above, giving your feet a nice soaking much of the time. There are pools along the way, and standing in the healing waters up to your ankles is a popular thing to do.

Healing waters for sore, tired feet!

The contrast in women’s clothing can’t go without mention. We saw young women in thong bathing suits you would expect to see on the beaches of Southern France, and others dressed

in black burkas head to toe.

Walking up the Travertines, Pamukkale

Some of the photo ops we witnessed were totally bizarre. Strike a pose was the name of the game. It all, however, seemed to be in total harmony.

Strike a pose!

It took about 1-1/2 hours of slow, careful walking to reach the upper most portion, stopping often for those photo ops, though in contrast to others, rarely of ourselves. By the time we reached the top I was never happier to put my shoes back on!!

Travertine Pool

Though clearly the healing waters of the Travertines are extremely popular with current day Turks, the ruins of Hierapolis show that has been the case for centuries. The ruins sit at the top and behind the Travertines. The city, founded in 190 BC, is elaborate and expansive. The location is no doubt due to the Travertines and its healing waters. The ruins are impressive and the theatre is an absolute knock out. We have now seen four or five theaters and this one takes the proverbial cake.

Hierapolis Theater

Actor Holding Mask, Hierapolis Museum

After a long day we read the book and decided to take a stroll to the North Gate. Along the way we were treated with the ruins of the latrine, which are highlighted in several of the sites we have seen. The views were great because one is up on the mountain, but the road to the gate is long. Too long. We starting to get freaked that if we couldn’t find a shuttle (here called dolmus) back down to Pamukkale we were in big trouble. Finally I stuck my thumb out and we got a ride to the gate. No dolmus, but $10 later we were back at the hotel.

Hierapolis

Our last day in Pamukkale was taken with visits to two more cities, one about a 1/2 hour away (Laodicea) and the other (Afrodisias) another hour. It is just astounding the work that has gone into excavating and rebuilding these wonders. There is so much. In Afrodisias they have uncovered more than 700 sarcophagi (in layman’s terms caskets) all with incredible and intricate carvings.

Sarcophagus, Afrodisias

The museum here was amazing. Hundreds of larger than life sculptures, mostly of the Gods and the men that pay for them. Interesting that many of the men are nude. With the women a breast may be exposed. Cynthia commented that it is amazing these made it past the first Christians when they came around, as they certainly did.

What seems to be a theme is that most of these cities were founded before the Romans, and they weren’t too shabby. But when the Romans came the cities took on a new vibrance and grandeur. The amount of sculpture, the size of the buildings, the planned layouts of the cities. Just spectacular.

Temple of Aphrodite at Afrodisias

A word about the museums that accompany most of the ruins. They are so well done. The layouts, the lighting, the exhibits are all exceedingly professional. Turkey should be proud.

Museum at Afrodisias

After three nights here in Pamukkale, it is time to hit the road once again. We are headed back to the sea, though this time it is the Mediterranean, and we both love what water can do for a place. Again, thank you so much for reading and we’ll be back before you know it.

Hot Air Balloon over the Travertines

Wars and Antiquity

2022-09-23T11:14:00.022-05:00

The Beautiful Aegean Sea!

There was slight anxiety as we left our Istanbul hotel to pick up the rental car. In the end, it did go smoothly. We are driving a Peugeot with about 150,000 km on it, so we are not talking spanking new. The price seemed right, but that will be determined when we complete the rental. As we made our way the 300 plus km to Canakkale, we marveled at the excellent condition of the roads. Light traffic, state of the art highways, and not a pothole in sight.

Tourists go to Canakkale (pronounced Chanakkale with the accent on the le) to see the the 1/2 mystical, half reality, ancient city of Troy; and the First World War battlefields of Gallipoli. We were surprised, however, to find the city of Canakkale itself totally charming. Its location is critical to this part of the world, sitting at the mouth of the Dardanelles Strait. But more on that when telling a brief tale of the Gallipoli Battle of the First World War. Canakkale has quite the happening scene. Along the waterfront is a walkway that is both charming and vibrant. People are definitely out and about. There is even the giant wooden Trojan Horse, made famous in Homer’s Odyssey. No it is not the original, but it is the original horse used in the 2004 Brad Pitt movie, Troy. That’s something anyway. We found a restaurant we really loved, right on the water, that had a variety of fish dishes, and, of course, Efes beer.

"Trojan Horse", Canakkale

As has happened on many of our ventures, we stumbled onto a cultural festival that was in full swing. We caught three bands and an amazing display of living statues. The band that seemed to be the most popular was, what we think, a cover band doing Turkish rock n roll songs from the 70’s, 80’s and 90’s. The large crowd loved it and seemed to know every word. I’ll let Cynthia’s photo’s show the originality and creative nature of the living statues.

Living Statues, Canakkale Cultural Festival

Living Statue, Canakkale Cultural Festival

For sure the highlight of the Troy experience was the museum. Or rather the almost 4,000 years that it explores. I will confess my ignorance in not knowing that active civilizations were thriving between 3,000 and 2,000 BC. This precedes the height of the Egyptian civilization which had its height about 1,500 BC. A lot of what is displayed are ceramics, but there is a captivating display of gold jewelry from 2,400 BC and a ton of information given in both Turkish and English.

Troy Museum

One human story stands out. A man named Heinrich Schliemann got permission to dig at the site in the mid 19th century. It turned out he wasn’t an archeologist, but somewhat of a gold digger. He was German, but went to the States when he heard of the California 49ers. He established a bank where he exchanged gold and cash. He was accused of giving short weights. He subsequently left the States in haste, the first sign he was not on the up and up. Schliemann was obsessed with Homer’s Iliad and Odyssey, and wanted to find the true city of Troy. Upon discovering the site, with the help of an acquaintance, he went a long way towards ruining many irreplaceable artifacts by using dynamite to unearth the treasures more quickly. He tried to buy the land that Troy was on as there was a law in place that said anything found on one’s land belonged to the land owner. He got outmaneuvered on that one by the Ottoman government, who found out about his intention and bought the land before Schliemann could. Still, he smuggled a lot of antiquities out of the country, sold them, and they still reside in many European countries, as well as Russia. To this day he is somewhat of a vile figure here in Turkey.

Gold Necklace and Earrings, 2,400 BC - Troy

Archeologists have found that Troy is not just one city, but layer after layer has been uncovered. Over the course of some 2,500 years there were nine separate civilizations established. As mentioned, the museum is fascinating, the actual site not so much. There is little left of it and it resembles an abandoned rock pile. This seemed odd to both Cynthia and I given the treasures that were unearthed there.

Crates of Pot Shards, Troy Archeological Site

I had never heard of the Battlefields of Gallipoli. In Turkey it is famous, as it was a moment (actually almost a year) of glory for the Ottoman Empire in a war they eventually lost. As mentioned, Canakkale sits at the beginning of the Dardanelles Strait. The Allied powers desperately wanted to capture Istanbul as it was the key to having a supply route between Russia and England and France, who made up the Allied Forces. Winston Churchill was the First Lord of the British Admiralty, and there are records that show as he approached the Dardanelles Strait he sent a message to London saying they would be in Istanbul in two weeks. Amazing that he survived that stupidity. They launched a large naval attack in March,1915 only to be surprised and rebuffed. Then in April they did a major landing, seemingly having total dominance in terms of numbers and fire power. Incredibly the Ottomans, mostly Muslim, held out and it turned into bloody trench warfare. In December, 1915 the allies retreated to their ships. This was after some 130,000 soldiers died. As with so much in war, what a fucking waste.

Gallipoli Cemetery

We started the day at the Canakkale Epic Promotion Center which was quite the trip. One takes a tour where hi-tech 3D simulation equipment takes you on a tour of the battles. The floor moves, the sound is staggering, and you come out with definite knowledge of how the battle unfolded. The presentation definitely comes from the perspective of the Ottomans, which is no surprise.

The cemeteries on Gallipoli are numerous and sobering. Still, as we drove around the beautiful peninsula with astounding views of the Aegean Sea, we were glad we came.

Gallipoli Cemetery on the Shores of the Aegean Sea

Side note time. We are using Google Translate a lot. The people involved in tourism often speak English, but outside of that, not so much. We use our phone, speak into it in English, and out it comes in Turkish. It has saved our ass a few times. —— Cats. They are everywhere, and I mean everywhere. Few of them have owners. It reminds us of Santa Cruz, except instead of dogs, it is cats. For the most part they leave people alone and they don’t bark. Cynthia is definitely getting her cat fix!!!!

Cat and Statue, Ephesus

We were driving out of Istanbul and I saw a police car with a policeman standing there staring at us, complete with flashing light. Kind of scared me, and definitely got my attention. Wrong. It was a plywood replica of a police car complete with flashing light. What a hoot! We have seen many of them and it brings a smile every time. Not, however, the first time. —— The breakfasts at the three hotels we have stayed in so far are amazing. Great variety leads the way. Fruit, olives, bread, cheese, and omelettes if one wants them. The coffee scene can be lacking, but we brought Starbucks instant which actually is pretty damn good. Perhaps not up to the standards of our own Paxanax Primo, but good nonetheless.

Cynthia made the comment, “Being a tourist is hard work, but somebody has to do it.” That is not entirely a smart ass comment. We have been walking at least 10,000 steps a day, peaking out at some 18,000 one day in Istanbul. It can truly be exhausting. Tons of stairs, uneven surfaces, and path surprises galore can make it challenging. Add to that trying to figure out where you are, and where you are going. I am glad to report that Cynthia and I are still up to the task and having a blast doing it. As always, thanks for reading and another blog will come along soon.

Inscription on Grave Stone, Gallipoli

Vibrant Istanbul

2022-09-16T14:54:00.001-05:00

Suleymaniye Mosque
Istanbul

As always, the time warp becomes real when heading East making the big leap across the Atlantic. One basically loses a day. As we approached Frankfurt, Germany, we saw the sun peak over the horizon announcing the new day. Ah yes, the Frankfurt airport. God forbid one isn’t nimble afoot as stairs await at every turn. From the minute one exits the plane, until you take the stairs down to get on the packed bus that takes you to the tarmac. It sounds as though I am complaining, and maybe I am.

We arrived at the gigantic Istanbul Airport at two in the afternoon. They did stamp our passport, but entry was seamless. We had sprung for a private shuttle from the airport to our hotel in the historical Sultanahmet area of Istanbul. Smooth sailing until we got into the narrow streets of the old city that were never meant for cars. We ended up bailing from the car and walking the last couple of blocks. Our hotel is well appointed and the location is good. The room is small, which is OK, other than Cynthia and I struggle to find a surface for our stuff, and we are traveling light. The neighborhood is a bit of a hoot. Or maybe I should say boot. We are in the middle of the shoe district. Literally hundreds of shoe stores. Everything for the foot one could imagine. Kind of catchy at first, but the shoes come in boxes and, once emptied, the boxes fill the sidewalks. One does a criss-cross pattern to get down the street. Frankly, it kind of ruins the wha of the neighborhood, as Istanbul is a very clean city.

Shoes, shoes, shoes!
Istanbul

Our good friend from Guatemala, Pat Torpie, arrived in Istanbul the same day we did. We are doing things together while in in the city, then will go our own way the rest of the trip. The three of us hired a guide for the first afternoon in order to get familiar with the city’s geography. Well, make that the Sultanahmet area. The city is huge, and it would take weeks, if not months, to explore the variety it has to offer. Our guide was extremely knowledgeable and he took us to several of the most famous places that Istanbul has to offer, but also locations we never would have found on our own. To begin with we went to the sites the city is most famous for. That would be the Blue Mosque, the Aya Sofya and the Grand Bazaar. From the outside one can imagine the majesty of the Blue Mosque, but on the inside it is quite disappointing. Not the Mosque’s fault. It is undergoing restoration and the scaffolding and other construction paraphernalia make it impossible to really get a feeling for the interior. Despite this, it is still packed with tourists. Construction was supposed to be completed in three years, but they are now well into year four, and it is reported another year is needed. Good for the Blue Mosque, too bad for those who want to experience it.

The Blue Mosque
Istanbul

The Aya Sofya had large crowds as well, but one could still embrace the grandeur of what is now a mosque. Our first day guide told us no one takes anything historical serious unless it is at least a thousand years old. Well, the Aya Sofya was completed in 537 AD, on the backs of 10,000 workers, so it definitely passes the test. The Aya Sofya has a complicated past as it was first built as a Greek Orthodox Church, then with a regime change a mosque, then a museum, then in a controversial decision was converted back into a mosque in 2020. As will be the pattern in these blogs, rather than try and describe what we are witnessing, I will let Cynthia’s photographs give a much more compelling and realistic vision into what we are seeing.

Aya Sofya (Hagia Sofia) - Interior
Istanbul

A little aside. We noticed several large well fed dogs on the main mall near The Blue Mosque. They all had tags in their ears. Trivia, but a curiosity nonetheless. We asked around and found out that they are ownerless dogs, but the city has neutered them and given them their shots, and then tagged them so everyone knows. They look very healthy as apparently the city feeds them as well. From what we witnessed they do a lot of hanging. Now there is a dog's life! Again, in the animal department there are cats everywhere. Cynthia, being a serious cat lover, is thrilled.

Tagged and Good to Go!

Make no mistake, Istanbul is a thriving city. Added to the 15,000,000 residents, it is a tourist Mecca. The old city, Sultanahmet, is packed with tourists, but we have found that if one leaves that immediate area there is still an abundance of people, but they are definitely locals. The women’s styles are all over the place. From black head-to-toe burkas, to stylish clothing one would see in Europe. Though the country is definitely Muslim, there seems to be a definite freedom of expression. The people watching is fascinating as variety is in abundance.

Women's Bazaar
Istanbul

The days are so full. Yesterday we began the day visiting the Basilica Cistern. Incredibly, it was built in 532 AD. Originally it was the water source for the Grand Palace, but was abandoned and not rediscovered until 1535. It’s a huge underground cavern originally capable of holding 21,000,000 gallons of water. There are 336 columns that provide it structure and one walks around the entire place on an elevated platform with the water right below. There is a bit of light show going on to add to the bizarre atmosphere. We both loved it.

Basilica Cistern
Istanbul

Then it was off to the Bosphorus Strait. Now this large body of water, which seems like a river, literally divides Europe from Asia. The locals, in fact, refer to the Eastern part of the city as the Asian side. It connects the Black Sea to the Sea of Marmara. Just for those geography buffs, the Sea of Marmara connects to the Aegean Sea, which in turn connects to the Mediterranean. Though perhaps not the highlight of the trip so far, it was still good to get out on the water, with the sea breeze blowing, and see the palaces and mansions that line the shore. If one were rolling in dough, regardless of what century, this was obviously the place to be. We did learn a lesson with this journey. We were on the Hop on Hop Off ferry where one can get off, look around, and catch the next one as it comes along. Well, we came to what we thought was our final stop, many were getting off, and we just followed. I looked around and commented that nothing looked familiar. Cynthia immediately said, “Oh my God, we got caught in herd mentality.” Wrong stop. We had to cool our heals, in an area we knew nothing about, for an hour until the next boat came along. Not a big deal, but we travel independently so as not to get caught in the follow-the-leader mentality.

Dolmabahce Palace - 1843
Istanbul

Not that you are concerned, but just to let you know Cynthia and I are eating well. The few restaurants we have been to have incredible variety. Every kind of kebob one can imagine. Last night I had a sword fish kebob that was delicious. Cynthia has become a fan of Adana kabap (Turkish name for kebob) which is a mixture of lamb and beef, with a touch of spice. One can also satisfy their desire for pizza, though here it is called pide, and the crust is pita bread. Actually different from the pizza we know both in look and taste. And then we have become very familiar with Efus, the local go-to beer. Frankly not a great beer, but it hits the spot nonetheless.

Sweets anyone?

As most of you know I politically lean very far to the left. The reason I mention this is that today we visited the Topkapi Palace. It was the headquarters of the Ottoman Empire between the 15th and 19th centuries. Lonely Planet describes it as the domain of “Libidinous sultans, ambitious courtiers, beautiful concubines and scheming eunuchs.” If the majority could live like this, maybe, but the sultans lived in luxury unheard of by the masses. Now I realize that is still the case, but somehow this seemed even more egregious. Who the hell needs three hundred concubines? Sounds exhausting. The upside is that now these domains of the rulers are open for public inspection and they are, indeed, spectacular. If hadn’t been for a super wealthy royal elite, we would never have these incredible works of art, which many of the palace rooms indeed are. A couple of asides in regard to the Topkapi Palace. The eunuchs were powerful within the palace in that they were the protectors, and also the money watchers. They were almost exclusively black. Most of the concubines were captured slaves who were then trained to be concubines. Skills to be learned included Turkish culture and language, music, the art of make-up, music and writing. It apparently took a lot to please the Sultan! In fighting among the concubines was apparently not rare and there were even tales of murder.

Iznik Tile, Harem, Topaki Palace
Istanbul

Our final Istanbul destination, until our return at the end of the trip, was the Grand Bazaar. Established in 1461, apparently by a sultan that loved shopping, it is truly the heart of Old Istanbul. The entire Bazaar is covered, which given its size, is an accomplishment in itself. There are lanes winding everywhere, big and small. And today they were are all packed. I can’t overemphasize how large this market place is. Getting lost, as we definitely did, is just part of the experience. At the end Cynthia and I were just going, "How the Hell does one get out of here!! Even if one doesn’t want to shop, and we didn’t, there are teases everywhere. I expected the shop owners to leap into our paths trying to entice us with their wares, but thankfully this was rare. We did find shops that intrigued us, but we escaped with a pair of earrings for Cynthia and a thumb ring for me. I want to emphasize that this is not predominantly a tourist thing. Most of the hordes of people were Turkish. They clearly love their Grand Bazaar.

The Grand Bazaar
Istanbul

The tourist industry in Turkey seems to be alive and well, supplying some 11% of the GNP prior to the pandemic. This has been apparent in almost all of the places we have visited. The good news is that the city is vast, and therefore it is possible to find places that are away from the madding crowd. Speaking of the pandemic, for those of us still concerned with getting covid, Istanbul would be a tough place to be. Masks are not seen, crowds are everywhere, and I personally don’t know how prevalent covid is here. Cynthia and I are hoping for the best. The day before we left I got an omicron booster, and Cynthia is boosted as well. I guess it is time to live life and trust in the covid Gods. Whatever that means!

Luckily the weather has been perfect, so the heat has not been oppressive. If extreme heat had been added to the mix it would have been rough. At the end of each day we are exhausted, though upbeat. Tomorrow morning we pick up a rental car and leave the metropolis of Istanbul. A fascinating city for sure, one that has more to offer than can be digested in the 4-1/2 days we have been here. As always, thanks for reading and we will be back soon!!

Hookah Pipes

Roaming Romania

2018-10-16T09:12:00.000-05:00

St. Nicholas Russian Orthodox Church
Bucharest, Romania

We arrived in Romania not really knowing what to expect. We knew little about Bucharest or the country maybe because it was towards the end of the trip and we hadn’t done our research. We did know that there was an “express” bus from the airport to the city center and we elected to give it a try. Not that it’s all about money but $2 vs an estimated $30 via taxi, not to mention the adventure. One does go through some anxiety because it is not as though the bus driver is calling out each stop. And despite the express tag there were plenty of stops. We figured it out, exited the bus and immediately it was “what’s next?” We took an educated guess, showed the address to a woman who spoke no English and through her hand signals we found our Airbnb. One of our favorite of the trip actually. Right in the Old Town, spacious, lacking nothing. Well one does have to wind their way up to the third floor via a spiral stair case but, hey, what’s perfect.

Pedestrian Street
Old Town Bucharest, Romania

One may get a false impression of a city if all one sees is the Old Town, but from our experience it seems to be the most interesting part. Certainly the most easy to navigate, mostly pedestrian streets so very little traffic, fascinating OLD buildings and plenty of places to eat and get a late afternoon beer. Bucharest is no exception to this. We had a day and half to wander the streets and take in the sites. Unfortunately both times we were there it was a Monday and Tuesday and several of the museums and other highlights were closed. But the visuals, as Cynthia’s photos show, were stunning.

CEC Palace
Bucharest, Romania

We concentrated on three cities in Romania, the capitol of Bucharest and two cities in Transylvania, Brasov and Sighisoara. We opted not to rent a car so the train was our main means of transport between destinations. Clean, comfortable and not too expensive. Romania is a very likable country. It has the mystery that the name Transylvania evokes, very old and fascinating architecture, and a history that is definitely complicated by their location. As with many of the Balkan countries they are caught between the East and the West. The Romans wanted this territory and so did the Turks. The marauding hordes from further East came as well. The Nazis occupied Romania during the Second World War and they were “liberated” by the Russians. “Meet the New Boss, Same as the Old Boss”.

Brasov Main Square from on High
Brasov, Romania

As our train pulled into the Brasov train station we were a bit worried. The city seemed a lot larger than we expected and the outlying areas did not look too appealing. There are quite a few holdovers from the Communist era and large block type buildings are in abundance. As our cab got closer to the city center we began to relax as the scene much improved. We passed a beautiful open square which we would eventually get to know well. Our Airbnb was a 15 minute walk to the center and though not our favorite was certainly adequate. The first afternoon we walked the old town area and got familiar with the town’s layout. We entered the walled city via the same entrance that had been used since the 14th century. We walked the narrowest street in Brasov - String Street - where every window decoration was painted by local young artists.

String Street
Old Town Brasov, Romania

Romanian Orthodox Church
Brasov, Romania

They asked please no graffiti but gave a specified location where one could do as they please. We left our John Hancock's for posterity. This trip seemed to feature gondola rides and Brasov had theirs. Not as dramatic as we had experienced in Slovenia but still definitely worth the admission. It took us high over the city and right next to the Hollywood style sign announcing that you were in Brasov. We walked the mountain trails and got a needed shot of nature.

Street
Old Towns Brasov, Romania

Transylvania has a ring to it and we all know why. The home of Dracula. Actually it is the home of Vlad Dracul (Vlad-the Impaler - 1428-1476) who supposedly inspired Bram Stoker’s 1897 novel “Dracula”. One can’t really go to Romania, or certainly Brasov, without visiting Bran Castle the debatable “home” of the Dracul family.

Bran Castle
Bran, Romania

We had liked the taxi driver who gave us the initial ride to our Airbnb so we hired him to take us on a day trip to the castle and another historic site, Rasnov Fortress. The thing that appealed to me about Bran Castle was that it hadn’t been all spiffed up for the tourists. The floors creaked, it was definitely not handicap friendly, and one could easily let their imagination wander to times past. From the outside the castle was dramatic, yet unassuming. We spent a couple of hours exploring on our own, then moved on to Rasnov Fortress.

Rasnov Fortress
Romania

Here we had no idea what to expect but were pleasantly surprised. Built early in the 13th century it was a walled fortress created to keep the invading Turks at bay. Nothing fancy but real. There were few other visitors, no created structures just for the tourists, some great views of the surrounding valleys, and an authenticity that stuck with you. Definitely worth the time.

From Brasov we moved on, again by train, to Sighisoara. For some time we called it the S town because we couldn’t pronounce the name. I must say that by the time we left we were pretty good at it. Sig-hee-sho-a-ra. Sighisoara turned out to be one of our favorite destinations.

Clock Tower
Old Town Sighisoara, Romania

Small with some outstanding architecture. Medieval towers abound, a clock tower like no other we had seen, stone streets that make Antigua streets seem like smooth pavement. Those of you who follow our blogs know that we have a habit of running into festivals of one sort or another that we had no idea were happening. It happened again in Sighisoara. Though billed as a celebration of Saxon culture it pretty much covered the spectrum. There was a young girl doing yodeling which I absolutely loved. She would be an excellent contestant for Romania has Talent! Cynthia posted a video of her on Facebook. Check it out! https://www.facebook.com/davis.cynthia/videos/10156740795734596/ To contrast with this was a church organ recital, a rocker who billed himself as “Home of the Dragon,” as well as folk dancers and bands. It was quite the show. From the base beat, even though we were removed from the main square, we heard remnants of the festival until 3 a.m.!! Sighisoara knows how to party!

Festival Band
Sighisoara, Romania

Today is our last day in Romania and for this adventure. Tomorrow morning at a seriously obnoxious hour we are off to the States. I do have some reflections. I mentioned cost before. Romania is definitely less expensive than some of our other destinations. We could eat well for $20-$25 unless we overdid it on the booze which we seldom did. If one is looking for a totally economic trip, Eastern Europe is not necessarily it. Culturally it is interesting but one does not notice the drastic differences among the population one sees in some cultures (India, SE Asia, Guatemala). People of color are no where to be seen. The Romanian Gypsies certainly stand out but unfortunately we saw few of them. Most of the music one hears would fit in well on an American classic rock station. The infrastructure is advanced for the most part. The water is drinkable. One can flush their toilet paper. Everyone is on their cell phone. One can eat pretty much anything without thinking about getting sick. What makes it appealing to me is its history and age. Trying to figure out the political intrigue form ancient times to the present is complicated at best. Much of its physical nature has been preserved resulting in areas that defy time.

Turret
Old Town Sighisoara, Romania

We experienced many languages yet found enough people who spoke English to make the traveling not too challenging. Currencies galore. Of the 7 countries we visited only two were on the Euro, the rest one had to do the math, and not get stuck with it when you left. Mass transit was good in every large city we visited. Unless one is on a group tour (no fun at this point for Cynthia and me), better get to know it. And finally Eastern Europe is not an unknown destination for travelers. I think coming in September/October was perfect yet their were still tons of other travelers, especially in Budapest and Dubrovnik. If there is a reason to have one's own transportation it is to be able to get away and explore unchartered areas.

No question Cynthia and I had a great adventure. All new countries, getting to figure out where we were going and how to get there, meeting some wonderful locals, getting out of our comfort zone (though less than previous trips), and just enjoying life on the road. Thank you so much for sharing it with us through this blog. Work it is but pleasure it brings.

Back Street
Old Town Sighisoara, Romania

Meandering Through Montenegro

2018-10-12T09:45:00.000-05:00

Bay of Kotor
Montenegro

Oh my God, a border! As we left Croatia in our rental car we actually came to a border crossing where one had to hand over their passport. And the line of cars was not short. An hour later we entered Montenegro for the first time. Our destination was Kotor, which is at the very end of the Bay of Kotor, a crooked pencil shaped inlet that goes on for miles. As we drove along the road got narrower with the beautiful inlet on our right and dramatic mountains on our left. We decided against the ferry and continued through several smaller towns whose focus clearly was on tourism. As we arrived in Kotor our usual search began for our Airbnb. The road was so narrow at this point a wrong move would put one in the water. When we finally found it we were pleased as the view from the front terrace was fabulous and it had all the basic requirements.

Kotor is known for its Old City. Though not new to us at this point we still enjoy the atmosphere, architecture, age, and scene that accompanies the narrow byways. On our first morning, instead of jumping right into the Old City, we decided to take advantage of our car and drive to the Lovcen National Park. The park itself didn’t get outstanding reviews but the road trip between Kotor and the Park did. Our friends Richard and Sylvia had highly recommended Montenegro (which they traversed by motorcycle) and now we could see why. The road was incredible including the long-haired goats determined to block our way.

Sharing the Highway
Montenegran Long-haired Goats
Road from Kotor to Njegos Mausoleum, Montenegro

As one went up, up, up traversing the many switchbacks and the one lane road the views just got more astounding. Looking over the steep drop off, first came the beautiful Bay of Kotor with the backdrop the shear rock mountain side. When one gets high enough the distant view turns into the endless Adriatic Sea. Quite the thrill. I, of course, wanted to pull over at every semi-possible opportunity but Cynthia, being a bit more sane, insisted on waiting for the safest spot. Plentiful they were not.

Road from Kotor to Njegos Mausoleum
as indicated on the GPS

By the time we reached the Njegos Mausoleum, which is the culmination of the Park road, the temperature had dropped and we were partially enshrouded in clouds. We decided it was time for a break and luckily found a place to park the car. Not that there were that many people there but again it was a one lane road with nowhere to go and certainly no “assigned parking”. We looked around, had a great bowl of soup, and marveled at the deciduous trees showing off their fall colors.

We took a different route back to Kotor and passed through Cetinje, the former royal capital of Montenegro. We took a leisurely stroll through the main walkway of the town and the fact that Montenegro is a poor country began to be apparent. Museums closed, buildings that had once seen glory days were sadly neglected, and it clearly didn’t have that revitalizing shot of tourist dollars to spruce it up. We enjoyed our peruse of the town but found little reason to return. Nor did Cynthia find anything worth photographing.

We are finding this Eastern European trip is not inexpensive. The Airbnb’s are a great value so we don’t feel we are getting gouged on that front ($45-$75 a night out the door) as a decent hotel is over $100 per the Trip Advisor research I have done (yes, hostels (hostiles) are less).

One of Our Airbnb's
Prague, Czech Republic

But the restaurants. Cynthia and I have been spoiled by India and South East Asia where two people can easily eat out for $10. And eat well. Not so in Eastern Europe. $20 to $50 is standard, usually closer to the higher end of the scale (can’t kick the wine or beer with dinner habit). Now I realize that in the States this is not a huge amount but when one is doing it every day it certainly adds up. We are eating one meal out as we always have breakfast “at home” and usually don’t do lunch. This is a preamble to a situation that I couldn’t imagine happening in many places. We were short on Euro when we went to the “Relax Restaurant and Bar”. It was very low key and we were ready to save a bit of money on our meal. When it came time to pay I handed our waitress a credit card. “Sorry, cash only.” We didn’t have it. I offered the 10 Euro we had and my drivers license and said we would return with the rest. She just smiled, said don’t worry about it, pay tomorrow. She didn’t even want the !0 Euro or the drivers license! The trust did our hearts good.
If one goes to Montenegro watch out for the speed traps. They were plentiful. And the speed limit is rarely over 60 kph (38 mph). We were heading to the Ostrog Monastery and suddenly there is a policeman standing in the middle of the road waving a stop sign. Rats!! 72 in a 60. I did my polite best and saw not a smile from the cop. In the end he took pity and off we went, at the agonizingly slow 38 mph! Well, it all turned out to be worth it. The drive was beautiful with the colors popping out of the rocks forming the mountain sides. As mentioned our destination was the Ostrog Monastery, which turned out to be a totally unique place.

Ostrog Monestary
Montenegro

It is reminiscent in ways of the monasteries we visited in Spiti, India. Built in seemingly impossible locations basically glued to the side of a sheer cliff. As we ascended the mountain by car we saw people walking up the mountain trail carrying their belongings. What on Earth? We parked the car in the provided lot, saw that we still had a serious climb ahead of us, and stopped to ask the lot attendant about our the best route back to Kotor. He spoke virtually no English but motioned that we could still go further up the road even though there was a barrier. He managed to say the word “old” and we got it. Seniors were allowed to drive up another 1/2 mile and park nearer the monastery. So much for our youthful look!
Though the monastery itself was impressive it was the scene that got to Cynthia and me. The faithful took this place seriously. Families with their children, older people, a scattering of the young were all there. It was a pilgrimage for many. They would bring their blankets, food and whatever other essentials they needed and set up camp right on the concrete area in front of the monastery. Blankets apparently were supplied to the needy free of charge. Pretty much any place that was sleepable was taken.

The Pilgrimage
Ostrog Monestary, Montenegro

I did read that one could rent a dorm room but hundreds were just making it on their own. No restaurants so bring what you want to eat. No roof so be prepared for the rain and sun. It was a captivating scene and Cynthia and I basically hung out and wondered. The line to get into the monestary itself was long and we decided to take a pass. To us what was fascinating was outside and the inside could remain a mystery.

St. Luke's Orthodox Church
Old Town Kotor, Montenegro

The morning we left Kotor for our return to Dubrovnik and our flight to Romania we cruised the Old City of Kotor. Really enjoyable. Not crowded, old fort walls that ascend an almost sheer cliff, the classic narrow lanes where the stone paths are made of stones that are as smooth as a baby’s butt. Hundreds of years of footsteps have done that. And, oh yes, the cats. Strange to focus in on that but it was unavoidable. Cats galore and Cynthia loves them. We came upon one bench that held no fewer than eight cats all entwined.

A Passel of Cats
Old Town Kotor, Montenegro

We saw collection buckets that asked for help in feeding the cats and our conclusion was they needed a bucket to get some cat neutering done! Still fun to see them all, especially the predominant calicos.

We exited our one-night-stand room near the Dubrovnik airport at 4:30 a.m. to make our early flight from Dubrovnik to Bucharest, Romania, our last destination on the trip. More from the land of Vlad Dracul in our next and final blog. As always thanks for reading!

Staircase
Old Town Kotor, Montenegro

Surely Slovenia, Doubtful Dubrovnik

2018-10-05T15:17:00.000-05:00

Bled Castle
Bled, Slovenia

Talk about a breath of fresh air. That was Slovenia. We had spent the initial part of our trip in big cities. Charming and alive yes, but busy as cities will be. We left Budapest sitting in the front seat of the big bus. The windshield went on forever though at the beginning there wasn’t much to see. As we thought we were entering Slovenia (within the European union it is hard to tell when one is crossing a border) the topography began to change. Hills and green forests.

Ljubljana, Slovenia

As we approached the Slovenian capitol of Ljubljana I immediately had a good feeling about the city. Few cars, no high rises, a general feeling of calmness. We had been given directions on how to walk to our apartment from the bus station, so we did. We soon discovered that the entire “old city” is pedestrian only. Though the capitol of the country, the city has the feel of a small town. We spent two days browsing the streets, checking out the mandatory castle, and doing some pleasant window shopping.

Ljubljanica River
Ljubljana, Slovenia

As we checked in to our Airbnb I told the host we hoped to rent a car but that my license had been stolen. I said I had an international license and my passport but wasn’t sure if that was enough. She immediately said “let me call the agency”. She did and they indicated no problem with renting the car. One worry removed. Slovenia is a small country. In fact they say on a clear day, from the top of the castle tower, one can see 1/3 of the country! In the ensuing days we saw a lot of it. Slovenia is such a treasure. The Eastern part of the Alps, named the Julian Alps after the man himself, touch the Western border of the country. If one likes site seeing, lakes, hiking, biking, skiing, motorcycle riding, or just chilling Slovenia has it. We experienced friendly people who, for the most part, spoke English (lucky us).

Slovenia Countryside

One day we just drove. No particular destination. Small one lane roads dominated. We came upon farms hidden away in secluded valleys, a cemetery like we had never seen before (so orderly, flowers at every grave, tucked into the shadow of the small church), and farm animals roaming the roads. Smiles on our faces the entire time. We found our way to a well known Slovenian lake, Lake Bohinj. The books say one of the most beautiful lakes in the world (heard that before?). We thought it was. On the edge of the lake is a winter ski resort that has a gondola that had been recommended to us. Up we went. Fantastic is all I can say. The view of the lake and the Alps beyond was just incredible. Again, Cynthia’s photo will have to tell the tale.

Lake Bohinj, Slovenia

When leaving the Alps we drove drove over a pass where every hairpin turn is numbered. 50 of them. Reminded us so much of our experience negotiating those corners on motor cycle when we did the Western Alps. Not for the faint of heart. At the top of the pass one sees the image of a “maiden” carved in the rock and a hole in the mountain letting light shine through in such an unlikely place. Very cool.

Julian Alps
Slovenia

The road brought us to the Adriatic Sea, a body of water neither of us had ever seen. We started our Adriatic adventure in Piran, Slovenia and then moved on to Rovinj, Croatia and then to Dubrovnik, Croatia. Beautiful? No doubt.

Piran, Slovenia

Piran Night Scene, Slovenia

We started small (Piran) and moved to larger, capped by Dubrovnik. Our first experience with Croatia was Rovinj. The scene was lively but certainly not overwhelming. We explored the charming back streets and discovered our favorite beer (Tomislav) at a seaside bar.

Back Street
Rohinj, Croatia

On our final evening we got really lucky. As we rounded a corner entering the main square we came upon a large group of people all in costume. What's this we wondered. It soon became apparent that we had stumbled upon an international folk dancing exhibition featuring dancers from all over Eastern Europe. We loved it. From the oldsters to the raucous youngsters. We stood, clapped with the crowd, and finally just had to sit on the pavement.

Folk Dancers
Rohinj, Croatia

As mentioned earlier we have been rolling with the reality that we are in tourist destinations. In Dubrovnik I think we hit the wall. Literally. It is the walled city and is indeed fascinating (Unesco World Heritage Site). For centuries it kept out the invading forces from the East. No such luck with the tourists. Oh my God. Tourist cruise ships with thousands on board make this a destination. I haven’t seen hordes of people like this since the glory days of the Ann Arbor Art Fair. In fairness one can escape it by taking the totally obscure back lanes but that only goes so far. I guess they filmed scenes for Game of Thrones in Dubrovnik and one can even do a tour of those locations. Excuse me if I take a pass.

Old City
Dubrovnik, Croatia

I am a bit negative here only because I was really looking forward to Dubrovnik and we found the seemingly unending crowds make it almost untenable. On the upside we loved our little apartment. We came from a one night stand in Pula, Croatia where there is an airport, and stayed in a true dive. Christ i wish I could still do the hostel scene, but I just can’t. To me it is truly hostile. So glad it was only one night. We didn’t even meet any fun young hippies. The place was a ghost town. So when we arrived in Dubrovnik we were thrilled with our digs. Cynthia claims we are maintaining our “buns of steel” that we have developed in our Paxanax home as our trek home from the Old City was up, up and a bit more up. Luckily, no problem. As is usually the case once one gets a bit more familiar with a place everything seems more comfortable. True with Dubrovnik. We walked the wall which gave us a great perspective of both the terra-cotta colored town and the sea beyond.

Terra Cotta Roofs
Old City, Dubrovnik, Croatia

Found a hide-a-way little bar that has the Adriatic’s pounding waves providing the sound. The crowds didn’t disappear but we found more secluded spots that weren’t so overrun.
One interesting footnote on Dubrovnik. During Croatia's war of independence in 1991 Dubrovnik's Old City was bombed. The ensuing outrage from the international community caused a public relations disaster for Serbia and Montenegro who were the perpetrators. Diplomatic and economic isolation were the result.

Graffiti on Bombed Out Building
Dubrovnik, Croatia

Croatia has some 10,000 islands off its coast of which only about 80 are inhabited. We took a day cruise on a smallish replica merchant ship that took us to 3 of the islands near Dubrovnik. Maybe 75 people so it was manageable. We did a lot of walking on the islands, the crew served a very satisfying lunch, the two musicians knew songs from every country imaginable (Take Me Home, Country Roads) and when we returned we were done for the day. Wouldn’t have missed Dubrovnik but frankly we were ready to move on.

"Karnaka," our ship for the day
Dubrovnik, Croatia

Our next adventures will be in Montenegro and Romania. 2/3 done with our trip. We’ve learned a lot about the history of Eastern Europe, enjoyed their people, been a bit surprised at the prices, liked their cities and loved their varied nature. One, maybe two more blogs to come. As always thanks for reading!

All photographs copyright by Cynthia Davis, 2018. All rights reserved.

2018-09-22T14:37:00.000-05:00

Vienna, Buda and the Pest

Vienna, Austria
The Old and the New

Curb appeal is worth a lot. First impressions are important. It carries one along with a positive attitude. Looking forward to what one will find. As mentioned in a previous blog we have been staying in Airbnb’s the entire trip to this point. Our Vienna digs had no curb appeal. Budapest, on the other hand, had it in spades. When arriving in Vienna via shuttle we were arriving at our first drop off destination and I remember thinking, Jeez, I hope this isn’t our place. Well, it was. We had to wait over 1/2 hour next to the garbage cans at the entrance for our host to show. Not fun. Then it took 2 days to finally say “well this place isn’t so bad”.

Franz Liszt Academy of Music

Entrance to our pedestrian walkway

Budapest, Hungary

In Budapest as we were searching for our apartment we were greeted by a startling array of blooming flower beds. Then we walked along a tree-lined pedestrian walkway filled with restaurants and sidewalk cafes. Did we love the apartment? Immediately. I would say the same thing applies to our love of the two cities, Vienna and Budapest. So far I feel somewhat spoiled by Prague. At least in terms of expectations. We arrived in Vienna and it didn’t take long to realize that it is a big city with all the trappings. Traffic big time, the noise that goes along with it, and the all expensive Euro as its currency. It’s true that Vienna has such a charming ring to its name. And before I get too ingrained in a negative narration I must say we only spent two full days there. In short, I liked it but didn’t love it. We saw some incredible art, attended a performance that we absolutely loved, and saw awe inspiring architecture. The tourist scene is intense but we rolled with that.

"Judith"
Gustav Klimt
Belvedere Museum, Vienna, Austria

Vienna was the home of Gustav Klimt and he is, for good reason, their pride and joy. Well, he and Mozart. We wanted to indulge in both of these magnificent artists and we certainly managed to satiate that desire. We visited both the Leopold and the Belvedere museums as they, in their permanent collections, have the most extensive works by Klimt. Along the way one learns of the interesting upheaval that was happening in the art scene at the turn of the 20th century. There was actually a rebellion of sorts that was led by the already famous Klimt. He and other fellow artists at the time created the Vienna Succession, allowing artists to break away from what they considered the staid past and the control the old guard had over the art scene. Who was also a member of the succession? Remember Egon Schiele? So we were able to indulge ourselves in Klimt and see his most famous painting, The Kiss.

"The Kiss", detail
Gustav Klimt
Belvedere Museum, Vienna, Austria

Cynthia had a reproduction of this painting in her room since she was a teenager. We loved the live painting and the emotion it brought seeing it. The Belvedere Museum also had a much more extensive collection of the works of Schiele and I came to appreciate him much more.

"Reclining Woman"
Egon Schiele
Belvedere Museum, Vienna, Austria

Sunday night we indulged once again. For Cynthia’s birthday and our anniversary I had sprung for tickets to the Schönbrunn Palace Strauss and Mozart concert. After having an early dinner at an unassuming Indian restaurant we strolled the grounds of the palace, got lost in the garden maze, gazed at the numerous statues, and generally reflected on the “have and have nots” that was represented by the opulence of the palace.

Mozart and Strauss Concert
Schönbrunn Palace
Vienna, Austria

Though divisions in wealth and prestige may not be as extreme as they were in earlier times they certainly do still exist. On our last day in Vienna we did take a self-styled walking tour and experienced much of the beauty that city holds. Again, we were in and out of the city quickly and we don’t profess to getting a full immersion.

Schönbrunn Palace
Vienna, Austria

A very fast and smooth train ride brought us from Vienna to Budapest. We are getting good at the Metro systems and found our way, via public transport, to our apartment which again we absolutely loved. Budapest is a city that would take time to get to know, but we definitely left with positive feelings. Again, it is a big city. Much of it is upscale. The people are on the streets, enjoying life in the cafes and bars. There are many neighborhoods where the streets are pedestrian only, but traffic is a reality. The city is divided by the Danube River into two distinct sections, Buda and Pest.

Pest from Buda
Budapest, Hungary

We spent one full day exploring the castle, cafes and the incredible Matthias church of Buda. The views of the Danube and Pest are definitely impressive as most of Buda sits high on a hill rising from the river. One of the purely tourist things we did was take a late afternoon boat cruise on the Danube getting a lesson on the many stunning structures that line the shore. The perfect past time for soothing the well worn feet.

Matthias Church
Budapest, Hungary

Matthias Church Interior
Budapest, Hungary

Budapest is known for its night life. I would love to say that we partied hard in the Ruin Pubs that the city is famous for but that would be a lie. But even without doing that one can absorb the feeling that a party is on going. It was still warm (apparently unseasonably so) and the tables of the street-side restaurants, cafes and bars were packed. And not just with tourists. The locals seem to love hitting the street and that is where so much of the life is found.

On our last day in Budapest we visited the astounding Parliament Building of which all Hungarians are quite proud. I will let Cynthia’s photo show you why.

Hungarian Parliament
Budapest, Hungary

Then we visited the House of Terror which was my idea and a bad one. it was just a bummer both in presentation and content. One does get some appreciation for the ungodly bad luck of the Hungarians. First the Nazi’s came and occupied. And here lies the ultimate irony. The Russians were the ones who came and liberated Budapest. At first the population was ecstatic. But then what? The liberators proceeded to occupy the country in a very authoritarian fashion for forty years until the break up of the Soviet Union in 1989. Today it seems the Communists are hated every bit as much as the Nazis.

St. Stephen's Basillica
Budapest, Hungary

I did have one bummer experience in Budapest. We were coming up to the street from the underground and I felt a slight tug on my “man purse”. I reacted quite quickly but not quickly enough. My wallet had been stolen from its zippered pouch by an incredibly skilled pick pocket. It Immediately bummed me right out. One the loss of the wallet, two that I let it happen. Luckily theIr take was relatively minimal. About $40 US (10,000 Hungarian HUFs) and my driver’s license. No credit card, no passport. Still, it took me some time to come to peace with it. The driver’s license may complicate renting cars but we will just have to find a way around that. What they didn’t get is much more important than what they did get. On my travels over these many years I have been hit by 3 professional pick pockets. Guatemala City, Buenos Aires, and Budapest. One on them was successful. May a pox invade their sacred sack!!!

St. Stephen's Basillica
Budapest, Hungary

Our next destination will be Slovenia. Best known to my fellow Americans as the home country of our first lady, Melania Trump. We are looking forward to a quieter scene and hopefully renting a car in order to explore the countryside. Both Cynthia and I are extremely upbeat, having a very satisfying experience, and eager to see what happens next. Again, thank you for interest in the blog and we will report in again from Croatia.

All photographs copyright by Cynthia Davis, 2018. All rights reserved.

Cesky Krumlov

2018-09-15T12:45:00.000-05:00

Streets of Cesky Krumlov
Czech Republic

One walks along the narrow streets of Cesky Krumlov and it is not hard to imagine time tripping back to the 15th century. The almost lane-size streets mean practically no cars. The stone structure of the streets seem to be a reflection of their age. The castle within view from many parts of the village has not changed, at least externally, since it was refurbished in the 16th century. The castle actually dates from the 13th century.

Cesky Krumlov Castle
Cesky Krumlov, Czech Republic

The village, simply put, has extraordinary charm. From the flowing Vltava river to the dominant terracotta roofs it is easy to see why it has been designated a UNESCO Word Heritage Site. There are tourists. In fact I had to ask one particularly gregarious restaurant owner if there was a vital local community among the vast number of visitors. He assured us there was.

Terracotta Roofs and the Vltata River
Cesky Krumlov, Czech Republic

Speaking of tourists, I have come to the point where I can embrace being one. I always remember the the NYC adage. “Don’t look up because they will know you are a tourist.” So what? By definition if one ventures outside their home territory they are a tourist. Call it what you want (traveler, adventurer, visitor, globe trotter, tripper) you are still a tourist. And be thankful you are one because venturing far from ones home can be one of the magical parts of life. By definition if a place is beautiful, historical, different or “hip”, it is going to attract visitors. That’s the law of the planet. So if one would like to see those places then expect others. The Asians are certainly getting out and about. Fully 80% of the tourists in Cesky were Asian, the majority being Chinese. Yes, there can be “too many tourists” but I am learning to see not the tourists but what I came to see in the first place!

Oh yes, Cesky. We stayed in a place above a “French Country” store. (Cynthia calls it shabby chic.) The name of it was the “Never Ending Store” (they stole that from Dylan) and I can’t help but call it the “never ending locks”. When the store is closed we had to go through no less than four locks to get into our apartment. Cynthia has been the dedicated key person so she got it, but the first time was ridiculous.

Yes, in Cesky there is a castle and this one dominates for sure. We took the tour and thoroughly enjoyed it. So many interesting and beautiful things to look at. We were also thrown quite the curve. As we were wandering through a passage way there was a sign indicating an exhibit down in the catacombs of the castle. What could that be about? Down we went and were totally blown away by what we saw.

The Czech-Krumlov Surreality
Exhibition of works by Miroslav Páral
Cesky Krumlov, Czech Republic

There among the subterranean depths of the castle was the works of Miroslav Páral. A true outsider this man. His work was bizarre to say the least. Erotic at times, a hint of humor, and all overlaid with a touch of the grotesque. Combining his work with the setting was brilliant. Hopefully Cynthia’s photos will give you some impression of what I write.

Works by Miroslav Páral
Cesky Krumlov, Czech Republic

Cynthia and I seem to be drawn to art galleries. We didn’t only see the work of Páral but also Egon Schiele (1890-1918). I must admit I had never heard of him but Cynthia remembered him from art school. Klimt was his idol and mentor but he broke away with his own style, albeit again with a nod to the bizarre. He apparently lived in Cesky for one year but was unceremoniously asked to leave as the town did not like his use of nude women models, some reportedly under age. Nonetheless it is amazing what one can accomplish in such a short life.

Drawing by Egon Schiele
Egon Schiele Gallery
Cesky Krumlov, Czech Republic

He and his wife died so young in the flu epidemic of 1918 that took some 50 million people. Along with Schiele’s work there was an exhibition in his self-named gallery entitled “View of Women” which included the works of three women artists whose work was “compatible” with that of Schiele. Knowing very little when we walked in we left several hours later totally enthralled.

Exhibition of Works by artist "ToyBox"
Egon Schiele Gallary
Cesky Krumlov, Czech Republic

Just wandering the streets of Cesky is what this town is about. As we were winding up our day, strolling down some back street all by ourselves, the sound of music came wafting down the lane. “Is that live music” I asked Cynthia? We followed the sound and indeed it was. A big band was set up on the main square playing their hearts out. Everything from Miles Davis to Glen Miller. As the audience got in the rhythm several of the “tourists” began to dance. Everyone was in a good mood and the musical interlude couldn’t have been more welcome.

Big Band
Cesky Krumlov, Czech Republic

We have now arrived in Vienna. We came by shuttle and the first 2/3 was farms and forests. The road was so narrow we had to pull over when another vehicle was approaching. We passed through several small villages that gave us a good insight into rural Czech Republic. Loved it.
Vienna will be a bit of a whirlwind as we are venturing out of our Eastern European focus and chose not to spend much time here. As is often the case our landing was a bit rough but seems to be smoothing out already. There is so much to see and appreciate in Vienna, but we won't experience it all. Much of the city we will have to save for next time. Budapest awaits and our next blog should emanate from the star of Hungary.

Night Stroll
Cesky Krumlov, Czech Republic

Loving Prague!

2018-09-11T15:57:00.000-05:00

Prague Skyline

We are nearing the end of the first chapter in this adventure. What we have experienced so far is a love affair with Prague. What a city. Architecturally beautiful with few exceptions, clean beyond belief, a mass transit system that is efficient as it can be resulting in very little auto traffic, and people who seem warm despite the language difference. Did I mention the beer? You have heard the phrase “beer is cheaper than water”? Well, here it is true. And all kinds, from micro-brewed to bottles found, it seems, in every other store.

I can’t call the journey from Guatemala fun, but it wasn’t bad either. We sprung for Economy Plus on the leg from Houston to Frankfurt and had no regrets about doing it. The flight was about 10 hours and when one lands they are well into the next day, so be awake!!! A bit of Benadryl did the trick and we both got in at least 6 hours. The efficient Germans seemed to have missed the mark a bit at the Frankfurt airport as the walks were marathon size, the stairs did not move, and the bus ride to the tarmac was jammed. By the time we made the short flight to Prague all that was forgotten.

We are doing a lot of Airbnb’s on this trip and the first one is a total hit. Not huge but really modern and comfortable. And Well Located. We can walk just about everywhere in the city and walk we have. You have heard of the required 10,000 steps a day (which I honestly believe should be 5,000)? Well, we have logged an average of about 15,500 since we got here. If one divides the number of beers we have drank into that number, I would say we deserved every drop.

Hoisting a Pivo (Beer)

So far our days have included synagogues, castles, museums, a couple of incredible churches, and a bevy of bars. All worth the time in a variety of ways. The story of the Jews in Prague is a complex one. The story spans a 2,000 year history and in many ways capsulizes their incredible journey.

The Spanish Synagogue
Prague, Czech Republic

Without doubt the occurrence of the Nazi invasion of 1938 was catastrophic and one synagogue has, in small print, several rooms where every wall displays the names of the individuals disappeared in the holocaust. Though I am certainly not making a comparison, in theme it did remind me of the Catholic church I visited in a small Guatemalan Mayan village in the Ixil Triangle where the names of 1/3 of the villages population appear as a tribute to those disappeared. Have we learned? I certainly hope so.

77,297 Names
Pinkas Synagogue
Prague, Czech Republic

The museums we have visited have been fascinating for totally different reasons. The Prague City Museum gives an absolute exhaustive look at the history of Prague going back to Cro-Magnon man. It gives me such pause to once again come face to face with the reality of how young my home country is. While life was being played out in so many complexities here in Prague, the American Indian was living with nature in the U.S.

Manifesto Market
Prague, Czech Republic

After enjoying a beer and some sweet potato fries at the newish “hip” Manifesto Market, we found our way to the Alphonse Mucha Museum. Here is an artist that clearly loved women and brought such life to the feminine allure. He established himself by doing posters for famous people and events including the actress Sarah Bernhardt. This allowed him to become known and wealthy, thus releasing him to create what he really wanted in his later years (The Slav Epic). Hey, as an artist one does what ever it takes to make it work.

Works by Alphonse Mucha
Mucha Museum
Prague, Czech Republic

We did escape to the country in order to visit the Karlstejn Castle. Though the castle was certainly worth seeing I think the incredibly smooth train ride through the beautiful countryside was one of our favorite parts of the day. First off one has to figure out how the hell to buy a ticket and what platform the train is leaving from. That took about 45 minutes of frustration, wrong turns, and some anxiety. The ultimate way to figure it out is to ask. However, one has to ask a person who speaks English and knows the answer. Pretty tough to tell whom that person is. We eventually figured it out and off we went.

Karlstejn Castle
Karlstejn, Czech Republic

The castle was not spectacular, but it was the experience we were looking for at the time. The views from the top turrets of the surrounding country were magnificent. A small village nestled amount the hills of greenery. And of course, as with most castles, it held the high ground.

View from Karlstejn Castle
Karlstejn, Czech Republic

The pride and joy of Prague is the Prague Castle, and I must say for good reason. Included in its vast grounds is the St Vitus Cathedral, undoubtedly one of the most outstanding structures I have ever seen. It was shocking to walk through an archway and be totally astounded by the overall power of the cathedral.

St Vitus Cathedral
Prague Castle
Prague, Czech Republic

Words fall short. 600 years in the making. I have never been a deeply religious person, in fact as I look back in history I know religion has been the cause of literally hundreds (thousands?) of wars continuing right up to this day. But when religion is at its strongest it can be a cradle of creation. And I mean artistically. Yes, many of the themes have religious overtones but the artists were clearly inspired, the church able and willing to pay, and the result is something for the ages. What single effort goes on for 600 years? That’s roughly 24 generations. Astounding. The Cathedral had treasures ranging from the crypt of Charles IV to Art Nouveau stained glass windows by Mucha. Though many more sites delight at the Castle, Cynthia and I could go back to the cathedral and just spend the day being mesmerized by the wonder.

St Vitus Cathedral
Prague Castle
Prague, Czech Republic

Of course as is always the case just as one feels comfortable, knows their way around, and could just settle in for a while it is time to move on. Tomorrow we take a 3 hour bus ride to a small town in the Czech Republic. We will treasure our time in Prague, both of us being surprised and elated by this wonderful city. We would return in a heart beat.

All photographs copyright by Cynthia Davis, 2018. All rights reserved.

2018-09-02T10:19:00.000-05:00

Hello Friends Cynthia and I are preparing for our next Great Adventure. On September 5 we fly from Guatemala City arriving in Prague, Czech Republic on the 6th. Thus will begin our 6 week journey through Eastern Europe. Czech Republic, Vienna, Hungary, Slovenia, Croatia, Montenegro, and Dracula's home turf of Romania. These are all new destinations for us and we approach them with excitement. As in our last blog from Northern India Cynthia will do the photography and I will ply one of my favorite past times, writing. If you receive this cordial invitation to join us in our adventures you will receive the blog via your email. We promise not to make the posts too long and will try to capture the treasures, both obvious and hidden, of each destination. We do love doing the blog, it capsulizes and enhances our experience, and you joining us in our adventure makes it all the
richer. See you on the road. JB and Cynthia

Disorganized Organization

Pokhara, the Moto, and the Grand Finale

2016-10-05T07:30:00.000-05:00

9/30/16

Ahhh Pokhara, how you have grown. In 1988 it was a small town that mainly serviced trekkers that were here to set off into the mountains, specifically in and around the Annapurna range of the Himalaya. There were hotels and restaurants, but mainly the back packer type. I think my friend Ron Dunetz and I paid like, $3 a night. Nothing hinting at being upscale. It is not surprising that this has changed. Not only is Pokhara so well situated in terms of the BIG mountains, but it sits on the very lovely Lake Phewa. Lake Phewa is the second largest lake in Nepal, but even with that it is not huge. The river valley that feeds it is, but the lake itself retains a calm demeanor most of the time. One interesting factoid is that no motor boats are allowed on the lake. All transportation is by canoe shaped boats with a flat bottom, or even paddle boats for the tourist.

Boat with Peaking Pagoda
Lake Phewa, Pokhara, Nepal

There are many houses on surrounding hillsides that have no road access. The lake is their road (much like the village where Cynthia and I live in Guatemala) but they have no choice but to row or paddle wherever they may be bound. Rough if you have forgotten that dozen eggs!

Cynthia and I came here with no plan. It was good to relax and see what unfolded. Getting out on the lake seemed like a no brainer, and after doing a bit of reading it became apparent that we could accomplish two things in one journey. In the 90’s a Japanese Buddhist group completed a Peace Pagoda (stupa) high on the very top of the “hill” overlooking the lake and Pokhara.

Peace Pagoda
Pokhara, Nepal

One can get close to it by road; but a more interesting, and heart building, way is to go by boat, then climb to the pagoda. Cynthia and I did just that. At the trail head a sign says it’s a 45 minute climb up the trail. Two hours later Cynthia and I arrived. Not that it beat us up, but we took our time, had tea, looked at the flora and fauna, and just enjoyed ourselves. The view from the top was wonderful. Unfortunately we were too late to see the huge Annapurna range, off in the not too far distance, as the inevitable clouds had moved in to obscure it. Still, definitely worth the climb. No doubt it is the closest thing to a trek on our agenda for this trip!

In the afternoon we moved on to the very excellent International Mountain Museum. The facility is huge, and of course dedicated to the most majestic mountain range on the planet, the Himalayas. The museum had exhibits on everything from the different tribal people that inhabit them to the problem Mt Everest is having with garbage (sound familiar?) Actually the museum was so large that it was almost intimidating. I got a bit weighed down in the geology section, but perked up again when reading about the feats of some of the climbers.

When I was at the Annapurna Base Camp there was no where else to go but up with a technical climb. As I stood on one of the ridges and heard the winds howl and the avalanches growl, I realized I had no desire to be a mountain climber. “Because it is there” just didn’t do it for me. But seeing how these monsters were formed, how amazing they are in terms of size on a global sense, and how men and women can turn a suicide mission into a sport was pretty fascinating.

10/1/16

I love riding motorcycles. In India, in the out of the way places we were traveling, we saw so many groups and individuals have an ultimate adventure on those torturous roads. Yet the bug just didn’t hit me. Conditions too severe, weather too severe, the bikes not really right for the long haul gear wise. No such thing as a hard pack, everything was tied on with a plastic sheet trying to protect it from the elements. So finally in Pokhara it seemed that the time was right. Cynthia and I rented a 350 cc Royal Enfield, the rather classic bike of choice here. The idea was to ride to the Sarangkot overlook to experience the jaw dropping view of the large Annapurna range. The guides and agencies push doing this for sunrise. We were going to go early, but we planned on still being in bed at sunrise! The day before we had seen a clear sky and good mountain views from our room, then saw the clouds move in as the day became later. Somehow we thought this would be the pattern. Wrong. The first thing I did when we got up was to look out our window to see it totally clouded in. Rats! We decided to go for anyway, hoping the clouds would take a hint and move on.

I had partially scoped out the route the day before and thought I knew it. Wrong again! I missed the turn, and we ran into totally strange territory in the middle of Old Pokhara. As I was struggling along, trying to make a decision as to where to go, what do we run into but a parade!

Parade
Old Pokhara, Nepal

And a long one. Masks, music, a float and dancers passed us by. Now usually Cynthia and I would be totally up for this. But please, not now! The clouds were clearing and we wanted so much to reach our destination. Finally I asked a fellow motorcyclist how to get to Sarangkot. He said, “follow me”. What a guy! We were weaving and winding and guess what? We ran into the parade again! So we watched it for the second time.

Goddess for a day
Old Pokhara, Nepal

After several other miss starts we finally did make it to the overlook. The mountains were incredible though the clouds obscured them enough not to give us a clear view of the entire range. Kind of foiled, kind of successful.

One side note. Pokhara is literally famous for its paragliding. Lonely Planet states that it is one of the best spots on the planet to give it a go. Well the launching spot is from the side of the mountain in Sarangkot. Cynthia and I were astounded at how many gliders were taking off. At one point I would say we could count fifty of them in the sky.

Paragliders' Paradise
Sarangkot, Nepal

And that continued most of the day! For $85 you could get a 20 minute ride that you would never forget. For $115 you could stretch that to 45 minutes. The lake and entire valley would be in view. If you caught a thermal and the clouds were right one could see the mountain range as well. Cynthia had the urge to do it, but she needed some time to build up to it and we just didn’t have it. I certainly gave her credit for even considering it!

Since we had been semi-foiled on the morning’s excursion we had heard about a spot where two lakes lay side by side, and the report was that it was beautiful. We decided to give it a try. The ride on the main road was no fun, but miraculously Cynthia spotted our turn off about 30 minutes out of town. We were not disappointed. A very quiet road in great shape took us to an overlook of the lakes that was spectacular.

Lake Rupa, Nepal

No honking horns, no traffic, no tourists (except us), no one trying to sell us anything. It was great and worth the effort to get there, and back again.

On the way we saw an interesting phenomenon. There was a herd of goats close to the road with lots of people stopped to check them out. At first I thought it was tourists fascinated by the scene. We decided to stop and take it in ourselves. Next thing we saw was a goat being muscled into the back of an SUV. Then we saw one being crammed into the trunk of a car. What’s up with this?

Goats for Sale
Pokhara, Nepal

Cynthia thought maybe it was a goat sale so they could introduce new stock to their herd. Stop the inner breeding. Well come to find out a big holiday is coming and having goat meat is the tradition. Apparently Pokhara is famous for their goat sales and people come from all over the region to sell and to purchase their goats for their holiday feast. No wonder the goats were putting up such a fight!!!

10/2/16

Well tonight we are tripping the light fantastic. This evening is our last night in Pokhara. So we indulged. Today I tripped out on the moto while Cynthia went to the spa for the full treatment. We both got what we wanted. I got a ride where there was no traffic, beautiful scenery, a local flavor, and a sense of fulfillment. Cynthia got a pedicure, a full body scrub and a facial. When all that was complete we went lakeside and indulged in a couple of beers accompanied by a peanut sadeko. As those who know me are aware, I have a jones for peanuts. (One of the few snacks that are relatively few on the evil carbs). Well here they make a peanut mix with a variety of spices and vegetables. Spicy and heavenly. We watched the people go by, saw the sun set over the lake, and fully appreciated how lucky we are.

When darkness set in and the thunder began we made our way to our favorite restaurant here in Pokhara. Moondance. This restaurant could be a hit in any hip community in the States. Service is beyond good, and the food imaginative and excellent. We accompanied our dinners with a pitcher of mojitos (dangerous) and finished it all off by splitting a piece of their “famous” lemon meringue pie. What the hell more could we want? Just for the record, after a tasty salad, entree for the both of us, the exquisite pitcher of ecstasy, and the heavily pie, a bit less than $50 including tip. For Nepal that is an indulgence, in the States it is getting to be a salad, a burger and maybe a beer. Again, the value is here.

Our adventure is nearing an end. Tomorrow we head back to Kathmandu to spend two nights. Oh, and no bus, this time we fly! All of 25 minutes as opposed to the seven hours on the bus. (You have to love a country that has national airlines with the names “Yeti Airlines” and “Buddha Air”).

Our Yeti
Pokhara, Nepal

Then the twilight zone begins as we fly from Kathmandu, to Delhi, to Newark, to Detroit. I think we gain back that illusive day somewhere in there.

10/5/16

We are now in the Delhi airport with our eleven hour layover. Yes, you heard that right, eleven hours! They won’t let us in the main departure lounge until 3 hours before the flight. So here we are in the waiting-for-the-departure-lounge lounge. Not exactly cush but we are making do. I like to relate some final reflections on the trip, but now is not the time. In a sentence, it couldn’t have been better. That is unless Kashmir had found a way to peace which, as I write, seems as far away as ever. Know that Cynthia and I are happy, healthy and so glad we had this “Great Adventure”.

Temple Monkey
Kathmandu, Nepal

The Stupas and those Fascinating Streets

2016-10-04T06:56:00.000-05:00

9/27/16

It has been 28 years since I was in Nepal. It was on my first trip to Asia, also combined with India, with the thrust being a twenty day trek in the Annapurna Range of the Himalaya. I must say that Katmandu is still a mind blow, though it is not without serious problems. One is the destruction laid by the massive earthquake they experienced in April of 2015, the other is the intense traffic and pollution. I don’t mean to start out on a negative note as I think Nepal, and specifically the Katmandu Valley, are a great visit.

We made the decision to stay out of the main tourist area of Thamel and found a hotel in the area of one of the most famous Buddhist stupas, Boudhanath. It is a 1/2 hour to 1 hour taxi ride from the main part of Katmandu, depending on traffic. Boudhanath is the largest stupa in Asia and is immediately recognizable by the eyes of Buddha that I always associate with Nepal.

Buddha's Eyes

I remember them making a definite impression on me when I visited on that first trip. Because of the earthquake it now has a total different impression. The stupa is covered with tarps and scaffolding and the signature eyes are not visible at all. The surrounding scene, the village-like ambiance, the many monks, the distinct smell of incense, the sound of chanting as the stupa is circumnavigated, the trays of multiple candles that bring magic to the night, are still in full force.

Monks Lighting Devotion Candles
Boudhanath Stupa, Nepal

But the Buddha’s eyes are missing. The report is that the stupa only suffered minor damage and will be fully repaired, but we are 1-1/2 years past the earthquake and work is still proceeding. There is a major festival in November and they hope to have the restoration done by then.

That said, it is still a wonderful place to visit. When one goes onto the street outside the main area of the stupa one can’t miss the stark difference. Traffic is heavy, dust is ever invasive, and there is a cacophony of noise. Walk through the main entrance and it is a different world. It really is like a little village.

Around Boudhanath Stupa
Boudhanath, Nepal

Tibetan Woman Burning Incense
Boudhanath Stupa, Nepal

The stupa takes the main stage in the middle and little shops and restaurants line the outer circle. The inner circle has a short wall that has prayer wheels spinning from the many Buddhist pilgrims who have come to pay respects. I did read that it is one of the only places remaining where true Tibetan Buddhism still flourishes. This is our home while in Kathmandu.

Boudhanath Stupa Monk
Boudhanath, Nepal

Women Singing
Boudhanath, Nepal

Pampered Pigeons
Boudhanath Stupa, Nepal

Yesterday we took a taxi to the central part of Kathmandu. We spent the entire day walking the streets of Thamel district, then followed the Lonely Planet walking map down to Durbar Square. Durbar means palace. (Kathmandu has one of the most famous palace complexes, but by no means the only one.) There were several things that made for a totally fascinating walk. The narrow streets are a saving grace. Mostly pedestrians with a few motor bikes and almost no cars. They just won’t fit. Shops selling everything imaginable are candy for the eye, some fascinating, some part of the inevitable repetition that seems to plague areas that cater to tourists.

Street Scene in Old Kathmandu, Nepal

Again the people are as interesting as anything. The women with their outrageously colorful clothes (often saris), multi-pierced ears and nose, and mysterious air (to me) are out in throngs. An occasional Hindu sadu (holy man) will pass by with his painted face, long hair and staff in hand. One can’t go more than 25 yards without coming upon a shrine or stupa. They are literally everywhere. Many of these are probably five or six hundred years old, yet are used as a display for merchants selling their wares. Some of the more fascinating shrines we never would have found if not for the book. The entrance can be through a stall selling clothing, barely visible, yet once inside what one finds is totally fascinating.

Durbar Square itself was well worth the visit, but the earthquake definitely left its shaking reality known. Damage everywhere. Piles of bricks from 800 year old shrines still haphazardly lay about. The government is going about the business of repairing most of them, but the original glory has definitely taken a hit. We visited the palace and many religious shrines and it is so easy to get taken back to a time long ago. I do like the fact that places that were reserved for the very privileged few are now open to all. Yes, the left leaning hippy coming out in me. There is a poetry to that.

Ironically one of the buildings that did not get damaged extensively is the home of the Kumari Devi. She is, in fact, a living goddess and maybe that is why! Her story is certainly bizarre. A young girl is selected through a very rigorous process and is believed to be the manifestation of the divine female energy. She is cloistered in the Kumari house (which is very near the palace) with her family and is only allowed out during special festivals. Each day at a certain time she makes an appearance from one of the windows of the house, and silently blesses those that gathered outside. Her reign can be begin as young as 4 years old. When she menstruates for the first time it is believed that her “holy spirit” has ascended and she returns to normal life. Another Kumari Devi is then chosen. Though there has been a back lash against this practice, calling it child abuse, a Nepali court has actually sanctioned the practice. I Googled her and found that past Kumaris seemed to relish the time of their reign, though they had a hard time letting it go and passing into a “normal” life.

No doubt the old city is what fascinates the most. The streets are jammed but one sees very few tourists. It is the Nepalese going about their daily routine. A close inspection of the goods for sale can be confusing as sometimes we couldn’t identify what the item was. Other times we knew what we were looking at, but couldn’t figure what it was for. Large bundles of yak hair in both black and white? A wig? For spinning? Stuffing for a pillow? Religious ceremonies?

Yak Tail Hair

It was interesting to see how the items for sale changed as we moved from the tourist area of Thamel (which still has tons of locals) to the absolute packed streets of Old Katmandu. Out was the jewelry, the trekking gear, the singing bowls, and in was the spice shops, the sari selection, and even what we would call in Guatemala the Paca shops (selling second run American style clothing). Yes, it is a mind blowing stroll but also an exhausting one. By the time Cynthia and I returned to our room we were, yes, wasted!

9/28/16

Today we hired a taxi ($35 for the day) and visited the other two most well known Durbars in the Katmandu Valley. Bhaktapur and Patan. I must say that if I visit Katmandu again I will definitely reserve a couple of days to stay in Bhaktapur. The Durbar Square is interesting, and there are many shrines and stupas that are fascinating to see. But more than that the village itself is so intriguing. One can stroll the streets and find a very interesting scene, but without the chaos that goes with central Katmandu. The streets are narrow, hardly any cars, plenty of things to see and fondle, and everyone was friendly and low key.

One temple caught our eye. I must admit it was not the temple itself that stood out (though it was not too shabby), but the goats that perpetually hang out in front of it. They are literally the temple goats. No one owns them, they don't wander far from the temple, and the locals feed them. What I assume was the male goat had the oddest goat face I have ever seen. Hard to describe, but it wouldn't win a goat beauty contest!

Bhaktapur, Nepal

"Goat" Temple
Bhaktapur, Nepal

We did hire a guide here which we usually say a firm NO to. It turned out worth while as he took us into the neighborhoods that we never would have seen, that were severely affected by the earthquake. It seemed that people were making do, but barely. “Temporary” housing seemed to be the norm, and who the hell knows how long “temporary” will last. I didn’t sense any “poor me” attitude, just that life had taken a huge left turn and they were dealing with it.

Probably one of the more interesting things we saw in Patan (the ancient stupas and shrines were exceedingly interesting, but we had seen several by this time) was an exhibit and sale of art work to raise money in order to bring attention to, and bring an effort to end, exploitation and sexual abuse against women. This is certainly cutting edge in Nepal and it struck a cord with Cynthia and I. Not only that, we really liked most of the paintings (all originals) that had been donated. So after viewing the excellent museum we went back to the exhibition and bought a painting. We are both eager to get it home and framed, a worthy addition to the art work we have collected on our travels. Should you want to get a few more details on this ground-breaking movement in Nepal, here is their website. www.xposenepal.org.np

Tomorrow we leave for Pokhara. We are going to take a bus for the 7-hour journey. We want to see the country side and we are in no hurry. With luck, weather being right, we will be able to get up close and personal to the reason that most travelers come to Nepal. The Himalayas!

Machhapuchhare
6,997m / 22,956 ft.
Annapurna Range, Nepal

Monks, Lakes and Mountain Tops

2016-09-28T06:48:00.000-05:00

9/21/16

Living on one of the most beautiful lakes in the world (Lago Atitlan), we couldn’t pass up the opportunity to visit another lake famous for its beauty. Pangong Tso. Tso means "lake" in Ladhaki. One has a choice of doing the 11 hour round trip journey in one day, or spending the night in one of the tent villages that are available lakeside. Given the altitude and our previous experience, we opted to do the trip in one day.

Pangong Tso
Ladakh, India

We left at 7 in the morning and proceeded to do switch back city once again. The drive was indeed beautiful, somewhat similar to the mountain scenes we had witnessed in Spiti. One has to go over the third highest road pass in the world, and the pass is the home, per their sign, of the highest restaurant in the world. It was a mud hut with limited fair (we didn’t eat there) but hey, it had its claim to fame.

When we arrived at the lake we were indeed shocked by the beauty. The surrounding mountains, which tower over the lake, have a multi-colored sand look.

Buddhist Temple, Pangong Tso
Ladakh, India

The lake itself radiates with color. The blue hues are deep and clear. It is probably the closest either Cynthia or I will get to China. The lake is some 100 miles long and 1/3 of it is in China. As we looked off into the distance we could see the mountain peaks that were definitely across the border.

As a result of its proximity to China, the Indian Army has a predominant presence in the area. There were several army camps (imagine being stationed for the long haul at 15,000 ft and calling a dark tent home!!) seemingly strategically placed as we made our way to the lake. (Train Hard, Fight Easy). Cynthia and I had tea and momos (a type of steamed dumpling, a Tibetan specialty), walked the shoreline, and joined the other tourists (mostly Indian) take in the majestic scene. Though a long day, we both felt that it had been worth the effort.

The Pose
Pangong Tso, Ladakh, India

9/22/16

Today was another festival day. I just can’t express how lucky we were to be in Leh at this auspicious time. The courtyard of the Chowkhang Gompa Monastery was the setting for the dramatic performance that unfolded.

Chowkhang Gompa Monk Musicians,
Leh, Ladakh, India

Monk Musicians, Chowkhang Gompa - Leh, Ladakh, India

The monks of the monastery have a ritual of putting on a masked “dance” performance once a year. It is famous to the people of Leh, but usually happens in the winter when few outsiders are present. The Festival asked the monks if they would be willing to do their ritual during the Ladakh Festival and they agreed.

Masked Dancer, Chowkhang Gompa - Leh, Ladakh, India

As has been the pattern the dances themselves are somewhat simple. It is the masks and costumes that make it so interesting. One would never guess that monks were the performers if it weren’t for the orange robes peeking below the elaborate costumes.

Masked Dancer, Chowkhang Gompa - Leh, Ladakh, India

It was thoroughly entertaining, and though the religious significance behind the performance was not exactly apparent to us, it was not to be missed. Again, Cynthia’s photos can give a much better idea of the monks transformation than the written word.

As with all of the performances we have witnessed so far, the attendees deserve special mention. Especially the “old” women who come with their elaborate earrings and prayer beads that continually rotate in their fingers. They come in force and seem in rapture at the performances.

Three Friends
Ladakh Festival
Leh, Ladakh, India

It is worth a quick mention that Cynthia and I experienced our first ever polo match. It seemed a bit incongruous with the rest of the festival, but it was a sanctioned part of the program. Several times Cynthia and I had to leap out of the way of the flying hoofs as their were no clear boundaries between field and spectator. Didn’t quite get the rules but they seemed simple enough. Smack the ball through the goal!

Flying Hooves!
Ladakh Festival Polo Match
Leh, Ladakh, India

9/23/16

Since we had been to the 2nd and 3rd highest road pass in the world, how could we not go to the highest, Khardung La. Today we did just that. 18,380 ft!! To put that in some perspective, that is about the altitude of the Mt. Everest base camp, the highest mountain in the Rockies is some 14,000 ft, and the volcanoes that Cynthia and I look at every day top out at 12,000 ft.

From Khardung La
Ladakh, India

On the way up one has incredible views of the whole valley that cradles the city of Leh. Mountain ranges are visible that have multiple snow covered peaks. There is a sign at the highest point that advises one not to stay more than 20 minutes as it is bad for your health. Though Cynthia and I felt decently acclimated to the altitude, a light head was definitely present. We took some photos to prove that we had been there, experienced the wind blowing the ever present prayer flags, took a pee to leave our mark, and got out of there only overstaying our allowed time by 10 minutes.

Next time I experience that altitude in will be in an airplane!!

JB at Khardung La
Ladakh, India

The afternoon saw the closing ceremony for the Festival. It was in the main bazaar area in the heart of Leh. To their credit what they call the main bazaar is a large area that is pedestrian only. No cars or motorbikes (tuk tuks are sadly missing from the entire city). We got there early and were able to score good seat locations. Good thing as the festivities started late and ended late. Many of the performances were the same, or similar, to the ones we had seen at the opening ceremony. Certainly not a bad thing as we just couldn’t get enough of the pageantry.

Flowers in her hair

A couple of interesting asides. The stage was set up right in front of the mosque that is one of the book ends for the main bazaar. It makes for a beautiful scene. Well as mentioned the performances went late. Right in the middle of one of the dances the Muslim call to prayer came blaring over the mosque’s loud speakers. The dance did not stop, but as it ended everyone just patiently waited until silence prevailed. The ceremony then began again.

The final performance of the festival was a total surprise. The eloquent woman who had been doing all the English announcing during the festival said it was with the gracious cooperation of the “powers that be” that they were able to have the next most auspicious and famous group perform. Out came a Ladakhi version of a rock and roll band. There were synthesizer, drums, bass, and guitar. The two main players were vocalists and they sang songs which many in the crowd seemed familiar with. The elderly lady sitting next to me, braided and dressed in her long traditional Tibetan robes and elaborate jewelry, smiled and nodded through most of the performance. Cynthia and I were definitely shocked when they broke into a version of “Hotel California”. You know what? It wasn't bad!! And so ended our wonderful experience of the Ladakh Festival. If any of the readers are inclined to make their way to Leh, I highly recommend having it coincide with the festival.

Tomorrow brings major change. Our time in India is up and we are headed to Nepal and Kathmandu. Our next blog will be devoted to our Nepalese experience.

Peaks, Parades and the Well Dressed Yak

2016-09-25T11:07:00.000-05:00

9/19/16

Our first night in Leh. We went to trusty old TripAdvisor to find a place to eat. After climbing some seriously rickety stairs we reached the rooftop restaurant we were looking for. Perfect. The old fort and the palace were visible in the not too far distance, dominating the mountainside overlooking the city. As we looked to the East we saw traces of a bright light begin to appear just above the mountain. The moon? Indeed, the full moon began to make its majestic entrance to an already incredible scene. What more could we want? A beer, maybe, after a long day. So I said to the waiter that we would like a beer first, and then we would order food after. “Sorry sir, no alcohol on full moon days.” Can that be? Though it was a bummer, we got over the shock fairly quickly. Soft drink anyone?

Moonrise Over Leh, Ladakh

The ride from Sarchu to Leh was full of majestic mountain scenes. The entire time we were never below 12,000 ft. One of the distinctions of Leh is that the three highest road passes in the world are within a few hours drive. On this journey we passed over the 17,582 ft Tangling La pass. It is wondrous for sure. Though trite in written word, one does feel as though they are on top of the world. One struggles for breath, fights between the urge to take it all in or get the hell out of there. The scene is as barren as the driest desert. Almost nothing grows. Snow covered peaks do rise above, but no snow was on the ground where we were. That will not be the case in a couple of weeks.

Tangling La
Ladakh, India

As we got closer to Leh, Vijay, for the first time, seemed to be pressing it a bit. We didn’t stop for lunch as we had always done, and several times we whizzed by sites that I thought might be interesting. It all became clear upon our arrival in Leh. When I asked him where he was spending the night he indicated that his boss had called him and instructed him to drive back to Manali that night. A 14 + hour journey over roads that were clearly no picnic. I couldn’t believe it.

It seems that similar problems and struggles prevail in all corners of the globe. In this instance, I am referring to the maintenance of culture and the environment. Today in Leh we had an extended conversation with a young man, who was Ladakhi, about the current situation in Leh. He bemoaned the changes that are taking place. The disregard for the cultural heritage, the problems that surround the environment and the attempts to right them. Environmentally speaking he indicated that the Indians themselves were the worst problem. It seems the Indian tourists have a general disregard for trash and what to do with it. He indicated that the foreign governments, and Western tourists, have introduced a different way of thinking in this regard, and they are in the process of trying to bring change to fruition. For those of us who live in Guatemala, this sounds all too familiar. The beginnings are there, but it is a long educational struggle.

In Leh they are really trying to encourage tourism. As always, that is a double-edged sword. Our young man bemoaned the fact that many of the old historic buildings are getting torn down and replaced by hotels. I asked if there were government preservation laws and he said, “yes, but no one pays any attention to them.” Again, I don’t think this a problem unique to Leh, India. The trend is everywhere. Of course what has to be remembered is that countries, towns and communities need to protect their history and culture, and protect its cleanliness, as that is what draws the tourists in the first place.

9/20/16

Speaking of maintaining one’s culture, as luck would have it we came to Leh during the Ladakh Festival. It is a once a year event that highlights the culture of the different tribal regions of the district of Ladakh. Cynthia and I didn’t know what to expect, but we were excited none-the-less. And we were not disappointed. As it turned out the gathering point for the beginning of the inaugural parade was not far from our hotel. As it came into sight we discovered we had arrived none too early. All of the groups, with their traditional clothing, were preparing for the parade. The traditional costumes were just incredible.

Ladakhi Wedding Attire
Silver, turquoise, coral, pearl, bone jewelry

Of course the women are what really stood out. Cynthia and I looked at each other and almost simultaneously said “what plain Janes we Westerners are!” Rather than try and describe the elaborate skirts, hats and jewelry, I think Cynthia’s photos offer a better summary of what we saw.

Ladakhi Wedding Attire
Silver, turquoise, coral, pearl jewelry

Beautiful Ladakhi Women
Silver, turquoise, coral jewelry; sheep-hide capes

Ladakhi Woman with Traditional Dress
Silver, turquoise, coral and pearl jewelry; sheep-hide cape

After watching the preparation for the opening parade (which included a well-dressed yak and camels), we made our way to the polo field where the opening ceremony was going to take place. The sun was intense. Not a cloud in the sky and 11,500 ft make for a sun that won’t let you escape it. As we were a bit far from the festivities we decided to move in closer. It was then we discovered that they had set up a shaded area with a sign indicating “tourist."

Well-dressed Yak

Though it was already packed we made our way to the back and eventually got seating. Yes! The traditional dances and singing followed. They were not complex dances but with the addition of the elaborate traditional dress, they were fascinating.

Men's Wedding Attire

The live drumming and the horns added a texture that drew

one’s attention like a magnet. Surprisingly a lot of the commentary was in English. Again, it made it clear that there was a concerted effort to appeal to, and bring, the tourists. One official’s speech was totally about how many hotels and restaurants there now were in Leh, and what a fabulous tourist destination it was. Well, I can’t disagree with him, but I do question his focus. As we left the venue Cynthia and I felt so lucky to have seen, and been a part of, this festival.

In the spirit of keeping our blogs a reasonable length, our adventures in and around Leh will continue soon. Please watch for our next blog which will go live within the next day or so.

Tents, Two-Tracks and Monasteries

2016-09-19T00:52:00.001-05:00

9/9/16

One of the things about traveling is leaving one’s comfort zone. Well, believe me, Cynthia I have done that. It is now 7:30 p.m. The altitude is 14,100 ft. We are in a tent, every piece of clothing we have is on our bodies, blankets on top of us, and I can say that I am not extremely cold. Not warm mind you, but not freezing either. The tent is actually kind of cool.

Chandra Tal Tent

Tent City, 14,100 ft
Chandra Tal, Spiti, Himachal Pradesh

It has a double raised bed which is pretty damn comfortable. It also has a closed off bathroom with a real toilet. The double bed is important as Cynthia and I are going to need each other's body warmth as the midnight hour approaches. There is a single light bulb and there is electric (solar of course) from 6:30 to 10:30 pm. Dinner is served at 8:30 (our chef’s name is Red Diamond). Damn that seems late as I think that is about the time we’d be seeking the sanctuary of the covers, not to budge until the sun comes up. Oh well.

I am finding the experience somewhat zen. We can’t charge our Kindles and their batteries are kaput, thus no reading. So for the last two hours we have just chilled. Literally. I do not want either of us to get altitude sickness. I had it once in Cuzco, Peru. Flew from sea level to 11,000 ft and wanted to see the town immediately. I was with Callie and my daughter. As soon as we arrived Nicole said “I am going to the hotel and take a nap”. Callie and I said “no way” we are seeing the town. Big mistake. Vomited for the next 24 hours. Nicole could barely keep from gloating. This time we took a bit of a walk, felt it immediately, and returned to the chairs outside of our tent. Just sat there and took in the scene, which by the way is not too shabby.

We are in a place called Chandra Tal (Moon Lake) in the Spiti Valley. Lonely Planet says it is one of the most remote places on the planet where there is road access. You don’t have to convince me. It is known as one of the few stop over points available, and there is a beautiful lake about a 1/2 hour hike from the campsite.

Chandra Tal (Moon Lake)
Spiti Valley, Himachal Pradesh, India

The lake is incredible in that in the morning it is completely still. As I crested the hill I didn’t even see it as the totally realistic reflection of the mountains made me think they WERE the mountains. The effect was almost dizzying.

The day started by doing a repeat of the Rohtang La that I described in a previous blog. Only one road, so no choice. We loved it as much the second time.

JB & Cyn, Rohtang La
Himachal Pradesh, India

If I thought that road was a challenge, I had seen nothing yet. Almost immediately after going over the pass the road completely goes South, and I don’t mean the direction. It basically turns into a one lane two track and stays that way the entire time. When a car comes from the other direction it seems like two abreast will never happen, but somehow (often by backing up) the drivers do the impossible.

Spiti Two Track
Spiti Valley, Himachal Pradesh

The landscape changed completely as well. All the rain falls on the Manali side of the range and here it is a moonscape. Beautiful but barren. Very few living plants. The “road” follows a river which is fed by the snowcapped peaks that surround us. Several times today we saw water cascading from dizzying heights.

One of the highlights today was where we had lunch. Another tent. Felt like a nomad. The photos will tell a better story than I can.

Lunch Time, Spiti Valley
Himachal Pradesh, India

Dal, rice, chapati and chai (sweet spiced tea with milk). Tasted great. Ok, battery running out, almost time for dinner.

9/13/16

We are back at Chandra Tal. We have spent the last 4 days exploring the Spiti valley. In Manali we hired a car and driver, the only way to get to the locations we have been. Seven nights and eight days later we will arrive in Leh. The only places that I have experienced that are more remote than this are on the two treks I have taken. One in Northern Thailand (and into Myanmar) and the other in the Annapurna Range of Nepal. Both required many days of some serious hiking. This place is accessible by road, though not until the 90’s. But that seems to make it no less barren and remote. I don’t want to overdue the road description but it deserves further mention. A dirt and dusty two track, sometimes with drop offs from staggering heights, always with stupefying views in all directions.

Our driver, Vijay, is skilled and confident. Damn good thing. Just for fun I asked the manager of our hotel who arranged the driver, "is he cute?" She said yes, but shy. Well good thing as I think Cynthia got a minor crush on him. I could see why as, indeed, he is cute!

Vijay with rare smile

Vijay and our Fine Ride

Motorcyclist ply the route as well, as it is somewhat famous in Northern India for the extremely adventurous minded. I love riding, but I must admit to no desire to tackle this route, even if I were twenty years younger (or even forty!). The roads are obviously treacherous and the dust would be a total deal killer. One sees a moto go by and the rider is covered head to toe. Scarf wrapped around the face, helmut shield down. For me it would take the fun out of it.

When I first saw the Dolomites in Northern Italy I remember thinking that I had never seen anything like them. The same goes for Spiti. One comes here for the incredible scenery, but also for the monasteries. Some over a thousand years old, they were founded by the Buddhist Monks of Tibet. Two of them, the Key Monastery and Dhankhar Monastery are placed on treacherous precipices that must have created incredible, seemingly insurmountable, obstacles to build.

Key Monastery
Kara, Spiti Valley, Himachal Predesh

But create them they did. If the idea was to imagine and create a place so solitary that the mind would have no distractions, they certainly succeeded. These two monasteries felt ancient. They were built with mud, rocks and straw. The Dhankar Monastery actually had more of a cave like feel. Very little, almost nothing actually, has been done to bring them into the modern age.

(I just have to interject. It is now 4 o’clock in the afternoon. The weather seems to be changing. The winds are whipping across the flat plain that we are camped upon. Dark clouds are forming over the snow covered glaciers that not long ago, it seemed we could almost touch. We have had to retreat to the inside of our tent. The walls are dancing freely as the winds take control. It gives one a slight idea of what it would be like here when true winter sets in. Uninhabitable in a word. They close this entire camp site in 10 days and I think it will be none too soon!)

The rooms were dark, particularly in the Tabo Monastery established in 996 A.D. But we brought flashlights and were totally amazed at the wall murals depicting a wide range of Buddhist themes. They were so well preserved, a lot due to the semi darkness in which they resided. There were two things about each monastery that stood out. One was the physical place itself, and the other was the experiences we had while inside. The monks were totally welcoming. Most of the time we were the only tourists there.

Cynthia and the Monks
Dhankar Monastery, Spiti Valley, Himachal Pradesh

In the Dhankar Monastery we literally felt our way up into the main temple area, climbing mud stairs that would be a lawyers dream in the U.S. A chanting sound is really what gave us direction. One monk greeted us in the small gathering area and we sat and listened to the chant, accompanied by a constant drum and interspersed with a very bass-like horn. After perhaps 1/2 hour the chanting ceased (the monks were in a small private meditation room directly off of where we were sitting) and perhaps 6 or 7 of them came into the area we were in. They each smiled in greeting. They then served us a chai tea and we stayed with them for another hour. Conversation was limited as they had very little English and we had zero Spiti, but that did not stop us from having a lively discussion. It seemed that an understanding was reached on several subjects. Perhaps at times it’s better if you don’t speak the same language!

Dhankar Monastery
Spiti Valley, Himachal Pradesh

In the Tabo Monastery we found our way into the main temple. Diffused light was streaming in from a window created in the ceiling, but one’s vision was minimal. The room measured perhaps 25’ x 20’. On the surrounding walls of the entire temple were sculptures depicting the various Buddhist deities. Individually they fascinated and the overall effect was incredible. In the temple was one presiding monk and perhaps 16 village tribal women. Cynthia and I took seats on the cushioned low bench to better understand what was happening. Such an interesting interchange was taking place. The monk would speak for a while, then ask a question. The women would give a lively reply. What amazed Cyn and I was the obvious humor that was being exchanged. The monk relished having the women laugh, and they would in turn exchange humor with each other. Being in no hurry to leave we spent another hour just drinking in the atmosphere and the conversation, of which of course we understood nothing. And yes, there was a short break at which time chai was served to all, including Cynthia and I. I know, as we continue our journey, there will be other, perhaps more well known, monasteries to visit. But the experiences we have had so far have been priceless.

Puja, real desiccated sheep
Dhankar Monastery, Spiti Valley, Himachal Pradesh

Tomorrow morning early we will continue our journey to Leh. It will take us three days to traverse perhaps 300 km. We will be going over passes that measure more than 17,500 ft. Right now we are healthy, engaged with our experience, and doing a very good job of “Being Here Now”.

9/15/16

Another tent city. This one is at 13,750 ft and is called Sarchu. If one is going from the last main village (Keylong where we stayed last night) to Leh, it is too far to go in one day. Add to that that there are no villages in that entire distance (the last gas station said no more gas for 365 km!), one never gets below 12,000 ft, and you don’t want to sleep in the car, thus these small tent “cities”. This tent is perhaps a bit fancier than the last. A bit larger, double windows with screens, a particle board floor in the bathroom instead of stones, and better made. Odd thing is, this place is the most expensive place we have stayed since we left Manali. R3,500 ($53). Now that does include dinner and breakfast, but still, we are in a tent for Christ’s sake! In the other small villages we have stayed in we sought out the nicer hotel and were paying between $12 and $23 a night. Now we aren’t cheaping out mind you, that was all there was available. I also hope the price comes with a better chef than we had in Chandra Tal. The food there pretty much sucked. I know we are in the boonies but I remember meals on the Annapurna trek, several days hike from a road, where the meals were scrumptious, and one had a choice. Dal and rice with a chapati was about all that was shaking at Chandra Tal.

Of interest to Cynthia and I is that these tent cities get completely dismantled in about 2 weeks from now. It is impossible to traverse the road, especially through the passes that reach almost 18,000 ft., once the snows start. They truck everything out, then bring it back in June. I was wondering if they dug new holes for the toilets or just reused the same ones. I’ll have to ask!

The main and only road between the Spiti Valley turnoff and Leh seems much better than the Spiti Valley roads. At least so far. A lot of it is paved, and that which isn’t is in decent shape, comparatively speaking. I am quite surprised because after experiencing the ruts they called roads in Spiti, I was expecting the worse. Tomorrow we will have an 8 hour journey to arrive in Leh, Ladakh. We traverse the two highest passes, some reading says the highest road in the world. Yikes! Right now the climate is fairly comfortable, though we have retired to the tent. Once the sun goes down I know the temperature will drop like the preverbal rock. Word is the pipes that feed the toilet and sink are frozen, thus we have buckets of water to flush. Tonight we have a little fortifier for the cold. Last night in Keylong I bought a small bottle of Scotch! A blend, but single malt just wasn’t on the menu!

9/16/16

We have arrived in Leh. Both Cynthia and I are upbeat, especially given last night. The temperatures plummeted to the 20’s and sleep was almost impossible to come by. It wasn’t the cold, I believe it was the altitude. We went to bed about 9, and stayed in bed until 6:30. During those 9-1/2 hours I literally slept about 1/2 hour. It was a first for me. If I ever do anything like that again I will have some serious sleeping pills with me. Believe me, it was not fun. But today was a ride of a lifetime and first impressions of Leh are very upbeat. More about Leh and today’s ride in the next blog!

Cyn and JB Making Plans
Tabo, Spiti Valley, Himachal Pradesh

Tradition, Falls, Fort and Mr. Style

2016-09-14T23:09:00.000-05:00

The blogs are behind. I actually have a lot written, and Cynthia has some fabulous photos, but we have been in the boonies and there just has not been internet. Since Cynthia and I don't believe in making a blog too long we are dividing it up. So, next time we have internet there will be another blog. Know that today, 9/15/16 all is well and we are headed to the high passes (over 18,000 ft !)

9/5/16

As any culture that has been conquered or exiled can attest (Mayan, Hmong, American Indian, Tibetan) it is difficult to keep the old traditions alive. The young tend to get assimilated into the world of the conquerer through many different means. Some are brutal (ie the Chinese in Tibet), some are much more subtle, but just as effective. The Tibetans are now struggling with this very real reality. The refugees who were born in Tibet and knew of the culture first hand are becoming more of a rarity. As related in the last blog, even the Tibetans still living in Tibet are having a very difficult time maintaining the traditional ways.

Norbulingka Institute
near Dharamsala, Himachal Pradesh

Stupa at Norbulingka Institute

This was exemplified by our visit to the Norbulingka Institute, whose mission is to teach, revere, and maintain aspects of the Tibetan culture, particularly traditional Tibetan Arts. There were many appealing things about the Institute. Physically they have done a splendid job. Water features appear through out, from ponds with Koi, to waterfalls making prayer wheels continue their perpetual motion. A combination of lush gardens and interesting architecture make the setting a mesmerizing place to leisurely stroll about. Perhaps more important, one can visit the various artists who are being trained in the ancient arts. Woodcarving, Thanka painting, metal working, carpet weaving and Thanka appliqué.

Thanka Painter, Norbulingka Institute

Wood Carver, Norbulingka Institute

Many of these apprenticeships are intensive three or four year programs. The hope, of course, is that through these teachings an integral part of the Tibetan Arts will be maintained into the future. Though unrelated to the cultural and artistic side of this endeavor, it is self sustaining. The institute, through its guest house, restaurant and gift shop not only pay for itself but generate enough income to help other endeavors whose mission it is to maintain the Tibetan way. Quite impressive I must say.

Though Cynthia and I are somewhat of a rarity (American, blond and bald) in the parts of India we are traveling in, we are by no means the only tourists. The Indians like to travel their country and McLeod Ganj is a destination. Besides the Tibetan complex there are other interesting sites to see. One is the Bhagsu Waterfall. The actual fall itself is like many others we have all seen. Not huge, but the falling flow of water is mesmerizing and always an attraction.

Bhagsu Waterfall
Bhagsu, Himachal Pradesh

What made this place interesting was immersing oneself in the Indian tourist scene. From the small town of Bhagsu one follows a 1 km path up to the falls. On the way one encounters families having lunch by the river, young men and women discarding their traditional dress for jeans, shirts and blouses (and actually holding hands!), tons of selfies, at least 1/2 dozen requests of Cynthia and I to be in their photos, several invitations to be friends on Facebook, goats looking for handouts, and oh yes, some beautiful views of the falls and the valley into which it tumbles. We got down just as the rain began, grabbed a cab back to McLeod, and felt we had had a worthwhile adventure.

9/6/16

Mentioned in Lonely Planet and highly recommended by a local, we did a day trip to the Kangra Fort. As is sometimes the case, the history of the fort was more interesting than the fort itself. The setting is certainly beautiful. It was built at the confluence of two rives, better for defense and for growing the food necessary to support the life of the occupants.

Main Square with 400 year old tree
Kangra Fort, Kangra, Himachal Pradesh

This fort is the oldest one in India, dating back to some 1,500 BC. Amazing enough it basically remained in the same family through the centuries. Its history is one of wars. Time after time invading forces tried to capture the fort, including Alexander the Great in the third century BC. Defending it was apparently a full time job. There were several gruesome tales connected to these battles, including the skinning alive of one of the conquerers when the family recaptured it, many of which are outlined in the small museum attached to the fort. In the end, mother nature proved to be stronger than all the other adversaries. In 1905 there was a devastating earthquake in the region. It destroyed much of the structure, including the many storied inner sanctuary of the royal family.

Kangra Fort before 1905 earthquake

Interesting enough once the English left in 1947 the fort was given back to the original family. They run it as a tourist attraction among there many other enterprises. On the wall of the family museum they trace their lineage back to well before the fort was built in 1,500 BC. Jeez, I can hardly go back more than two generations!!

Now I don’t mean to be obsessed by the monkeys, but lets face it, if you are from the States or Europe you don’t know shit about monkey business. We saw a trace of them in Manali but here in McLeod Ganj they are front and center. Where Cynthia and I are staying there is a dining terrace that is in front of our “valley view” window. Actually it is the only thing about our room that we don’t like. We would be better off on an upper floor, which we couldn’t get. So be it. So this early evening we are having our 6 o’clock beer and were somewhat startled when suddenly a monkey did Mr Acrobat on the railing right outside of our room. Well that led us to watching the scene unfold. A male monkey, big (Cynthia said to me “did you see the testicles on that guy”?) decided to perch on the table where two monks had just eaten.

Mr. Style

He posed, then posed some more. Soon he was joined by three females and five baby monkeys. They all just played and scampered about as the Main Man just took in the scene. Ok, we have the Main Man, three wives, and a bunch of kids. I think this guy adheres to the old ways in that he believes in keeping a harem! Or maybe he’s Mormon?

9/8/16

Our change of plans is definite and today finds us back in Manali. As mentioned, there are only two overland routes that access Leh, Ladakh. One leaves from Srinagar, Kashmir and the other from Manali, Himachal Pradesh. Our desire to go to Kashmir was foiled. The political situation in Kashmir has not gotten better. I have no regrets, partly because I think it would have been extremely restrictive there, and partly because we are excited about the alternative. In regard to Kashmir they had a bust of a “summit” meeting on the 4th. The separatists refused to meet, two more young men were killed in the demonstrations, and it just doesn’t seem to be getting better. Although the curfew has been lifted in many places, movement is still restricted. Stores, gas stations and schools are closed, and it flat out just didn’t seem to be a good idea to go. End of that story.

The Mountain and the Monks

2016-09-04T09:09:00.001-05:00

8/31/16

What a magical day, courtesy of the Himalaya mountains. When we woke it was sunny and we decided to take advantage of it by making our way up to the Rohtang La (pass). The pass got its name from the Bhoti language and means “pile of corpses”! This was coined because of all the people who die trying to navigate the pass in bad weather. If one wants to go to Ladakh from Manali this is the route that must be taken. All 13,058 ft of it! It also serves as the natural divide between the Hindu and Buddhist cultures.

Rohtang La (pass)
Himachal Pradesh, India

The road itself is narrow, hardly a lane in some places. Switchback after switchback slowly take one up, up and up some more. The scenery is stunning, as only mountains can be. Sheer cliffs with ultra green grasslands nestled beside. That is until one reaches about 10,500 ft. Then it starts to take on a nature stark with minimalism, with the exception of the endless sky, and the mountains still towering above. One is not alone on this road. Since it is the only passageway to Ladakh, trucks ply it as well. Not semi’s, but trucks larger than one could imagine being on this road. It is not a traffic jam by any means, but more traffic than one would expect at 12,000 ft!

As one reaches the summit, that is of the road certainly not the mountains, there is a bit of a scene. Manali is the destination of a number of Indian tourists and they were in abundance. Perhaps 15 cars lined the side of the road as the occupants were on the mountain side gawking at the perhaps once-in-a-life-time views. Cameras were everywhere, taking as many shots of themselves as the expansive view.

Summit of Rohtang La
Himachal Pradesh, India

As we have discovered on other India ventures the people love to have their picture taken with foreigners. Especially blond women. This phenomenon had not repeated itself on this trip, until today. Cynthia found herself virtually surrounded by Indian tourists wanting their picture taken with her. On occasion they would reluctantly ask me to be included. As the photo session was heating up an elderly tribal lady approached and wanted to sell something, we were not sure what, though we thought it was a photo of her. Wrong, she wanted to dress Cynthia up in tribal garb and THEN pose for a picture with her. Actually it was a hoot.

Tribal Business Woman with Cynthia
Rohtang La, Himachal Pradesh, India

Making our way back UP to the car was a small taste of what 13,000 ft feels like. By the time I reached the vehicle my heart was pounding and my body was saying STOP. Not totally spaced really, but close to it. Good thing, as the city of Leh, one of our main destinations, perches at 11,500 ft. From this experience I think I am going to be able to handle it. As we made our way back down from the pass we realized that what we had assumed were rocks were actually herds of sheep and goats. Several times we shared the highway with hundreds of them, the herders and the dogs keeping some semblance of order.

Goat Herder
Rohtang La, Himachal Pradesh, India

Our driver was excellent, spoke very little English, and the cost was $40 for the entire day. India is not dirt cheap as it was on my first trips, but it is still one hell of a bargain.

9/3/16

Tonight finds us in McLeod Ganj, the home of the Dalai Lama and the Tibetan people in exile. We got here via private taxi on a voyage that took about 7 hours over a one to two lane road. Sheep, goats and cows far outnumbered the cars on the road. That didn’t stop our driver from honking his damn horn at the slightest provocation. I see a bird near the road, HONK. It got on our nerves, but that is the Indian style. We arrived in McLeod Ganj in the pouring rain. Obviously we had no idea where our hotel was, so as usual, confusion rained, literally. As we were in the throws of trying to figure out plan “A” a man came up to us, grabbed our bags, and said this way please. Cynthia and I simultaneously thought WTF? Turned out he was from our hotel. We have no idea how he knew who we were. He just said, “I was expecting you”. Well, right on! The hotel turned out to be the opposite first impression of the Manali one, but I won’t bore you with those details. Just know we are well ensconced.

In our first full day in McLeod Ganj we did two things that left a definite impression. First we went to the Tsuglagkhang Temple Complex. It is the mirror of the main Tibetan complex in Lhasa, Tibet, and many of the treasured items rescued from Lhasa are housed here. It is also where the Dalai Lama lives, though for good reason those quarters are not open to the public. There is no question where the emphasis lies with the Buddhist monks and refugees who reside in Dharmsala (the main town). It is the pain and suffering endured by the Tibetans as China invaded and occupied Tibet. Briefly, the history is that Tibet was an independent nation until 1950. The fact that the British were the dominant force in India until 1947 insured their independence from China, as the British aligned with Tibet in order to protect Indian borders. When India won its independence all changed for Tibet. China almost immediately began to lay claim and eventually forcibly took military control. They basically outlawed the Buddhist religion and did everything they could to destroy the culture. An uprising by the Tibetan people in 1959 was brutally crushed by the Chinese and the Dalai Lama fled to India.

Within the Tsuglagkhang complex is a very moving Tibetan museum. The main theme of the museum is displayed outside where there is a dominant bronze sculpture of a Tibetan monk immolating himself. That is setting himself on fire. It has become the main recourse of protest by the Tibetans, and each individual who chose this method is honored within the museum.

Tibetan National Martyrs' Memorial

Tsuglagkhang Temple Complex

McLeod Ganj, Himachal Pradesh, India

Grim for sure, but not as dark as what the Chinese have done. The brutal and inhumane methods of China to incorporate and control Tibet are in full display in the museum. Many years after the Dalai Lama fled, it became clear to the Chinese that Tibetans still revered him and were unwilling to turn their backs on Buddhism. As a new tactic of control they began a resettlement program by bringing in thousands of Chinese to live in Lhasa and greater Tibet. Today the Chinese far outnumber the Tibetans in, arguably, their own country. Should readers be interested there is an excellent video on the Tibetan history beginning in about 1938. Of interest to me was that the first videos ever taken in Tibet date to 1938 and were taken by representatives from Hitler’s Third Reich. Who would have thought?

On YouTube. Tibet: History of a Tragedy in 4 parts https://youtu.be/RlZX9LO0TRc

Image of Tibetan Flag
McLeod Ganj, Himachal Pradesh, India

Temple Candles
Tsuglagkhang Temple Complex
McLeod Ganj, Himachal Pradesh, India

On a decidedly different note, tonight we witnessed one of the most bizarre one-man performances I could have imagined. The performance took place in the Seed Cafe, which almost went out of its way to disguise itself. Even after finally discovering its location, Cynthia and I spent several minutes trying to find a path that gave access! Once the performance began our perseverance was rewarded. After the performance I said to Cynthia, "how does one describe what we just saw? "

One Man Show, Snow Lion
McLeod Ganj, Himachal Pradesh, India

I’ll give it a brief try, but believe me it had to be seen to get the slightest idea of its impact. The “actor” was a Tibetan refugee who came to India in very difficult circumstances (walking through the Himalayas with a group of about 50 with next to no provisions. Need I say more?) when he was 15 years old. He is now 31. He goes by the name Snow Lion. The show began with a couple of traditional dances and the playing of a lute-type instrument. Interesting, but certainly not mind blowing. Then the dances got stranger. His incredible strength and dexterity started to become apparent. Did he just do that???? Then he followed with a “whirling dervish” type of movement. Round and round he went. And round and round some more. He would whip his cape on the floor, but not stop his rotation. He would ring his bell, but not stop his rotation. He would do intricate hand movements, but not stop his rotation. After perhaps 8 to 10 minutes he stopped. Suddenly. He walked without a wobble back to the stage. I could hardly sit up straight and I didn’t do shit!

Next he began this interactive body dance with members of the audience. Got them in intertwining positions and he would then hoist them up on his back. Twirl them about, some of them laughing, some of them freaked. But believe me it made an impression on them and the audience. His final dance was totally wild, where he literally tore his clothes off, except for some speedo type underwear, slapping and tossing the rags about, doing dives on to the floor that would have broken a normal person’s back, then flipping upright in a move that would be envied by an accomplished gymnast, blindfolding himself with his torn clothes and accomplishing more incredible moves. When the performance was over he invited everyone up on stage, got in body stretching positions with the audience, and had anyone interested take photos. I mean, it was just plain bizarre.

Such Moves, Snow Lion
McLeod Ganj, Himachal Predesh, India

So the next blog will be more of our McLeod Ganj experience. By the way, we are getting more “don’t goes” to Kashmir from those who have their ear to the ground. Met an Indian man tonight who is from Kashmir. He is returning tomorrow and we will communicate with him in a few days. He said his brother-in-law is a policeman and he is the only person he would trust to pick him up at the airport. Not sounding good on that front.

Meandering through Manali

2016-08-30T23:04:00.000-05:00

8/31/16

A definite surrealism engulfs the Kullu Valley. As mentioned we are still in the monsoon season, however that word does not describe the reality. Monsoon, to me, means “holy shit” the rains are about to wash us away. No, this is a gentle rain, almost a mist, the low clouds playing tag with the mountains. Cynthia and I are up early, as seems to be our routine, drinking coffee (yes, Starbucks instant!) and reading the news. Actually not unlike our routine at home. Neither one of us seems bothered by the rain, in fact I couldn’t be more relaxed. I think Manali brings that on. Not to mention our hotel.

Kullu Valley, Himachal Pradesh, India

The initial negative reaction has now given way to a true fondness for the place. As I step out of our room I am greeted by a light smell that takes me back to boyhood. Spending summers on the family farm with the farm house being more than 100 years old. Hard to describe that smell. Musty but not negatively so. Just kind of old. Hey, I can’t hold that against it given that I am no spring chicken myself.

Sunshine Guest House
Old Manali, Himachal Pradesh, India

A daily highlight is when the family’s father feeds the geese, ducks and chickens. A crescendo of squawking can be heard from our room and continues until every speck of grain is gone. This takes place in the well tended, but somewhat wild, garden filled with hydrangeas, dahlias, marigolds, and chrysanthemums. Adding to the interest is the family of monkeys lounging on the roof beyond our hotel. As with all monkeys I am sure they are full of mischief, but have not chosen us as a target yet.

Monkey Time

Anyway, Manali. Summer retreat for the Indians, come see snow for the first time in one’s life, see the majesty of the green mountains, shop till you drop if you are so inclined. It has an Indian style hippiness to it. Young travelers (though definitely the off season) both from India and beyond. Narrow streets with unknown destinations. The first day walk through the giant cedar forest was magical. The diffused light show, the raging Beas river letting you know it was not to be messed with, an occasional person walking with the same slow gait that you found yourself assuming.

JB in the forest of deodar cedars
Manali, Himachal Pradesh, India

The “tourist” sites are few. We went to a couple of temples that glare in their simplicity. The highlight of the main temple could well have been the women with their angora rabbits, aggressively placing them in your hands, or in my case on each shoulder, charging for the privilege of a photo. They were so warm to the touch, smiles could not escape the face.

JB with Angora Rabbits

Though we have not tired of Indian style food yet, Manali has restaurants to fit all tastes. Last night we went to a small intimate place that had an eclectic menu with an Italian flare. Most tables were full, mostly young Indians, mostly drinking Tuborg beer and smoking the hoouka pipe. Just tobacco my friends, though I am sure other substances would be available. So as we begin to see the end of our Manali stay, we are definitely enjoying it. Not action packed, but who needs it to be. Our traveling legs are beginning to find their gate.

Speaking of getting our traveling legs, yesterday we did our first bus ride, and we are not talking luxury style. Passing through acres of apple orchards ripe with fruit, we went to the small village of Naggar. It is nestled high on the valley wall overlooking the Beas river. As is often the case the journey was as rewarding as the destination. One hour fifteen minutes of narrow rough roads (as in, is this bus really NOT going to tumble down the mountain), interesting characters, and a feeling of blending in with the locals. As is standard in many parts of the world the bus is such the deal. Definitely designed with the people in mind. 120 rupees (less than 2 dollars) for two, round trip. A taxi? 1,600 rupees ($25). The journey was a slice, the destination interesting but not overwhelming, and the scenery spectacular.

Girls on the Bus

There has definitely been one dilemma that has thrown us a bit into a state of discombobulation. In a word, Kashmir. Whereas right now we are in North East India, Kashmir is in the North West. It borders with Pakistan. Kashmir was to be one of our major destinations. A beautiful mountain region, the large Dal lake with inviting houseboats to comfort your stay, a culture unique from others in India, and many nearby villages beckoning for a visit. As many of you know Kashmir has been in a state of unrest, in one form or another, since Indian independence in 1947. Of course, once again, religion raises its sometimes ugly head. Hindu India, Muslim Pakistan and Kashmir. On our previous trips to India we could not even go to Kashmir. The border was either closed or the environment was so unfriendly that it made a visit impossible. But that has changed in recent years. Peace has, for the most part, prevailed and the local tourist industry has been thriving. Then came July 8. The Indian forces killed a young separatist leader. Violent demonstrations broke out, the Indian army reacted with force killing some 60 demonstrators over a period of 6 weeks. The tourist trade, per the Times of India, pretty much came to a halt.

On arriving in India Cynthia and I had not yet made a firm decision on whether we would continue with plans to go to Srinagar, the capital city of the state of Kashmir. Our initial inquiries, however, were not positive. The people who were in the tourist industry said don’t go. It is not fear that is driving our decision, it is the fact that a curfew prevailed, stores were closed, road blocks in place and gas stations closed. Movement seemed impossible. As a result we made the decision not to go. We cancelled reservations and set about figuring a plan “B”. Then came yesterday’s headlines in the Times of India. The curfew had been lifted because the situation was improving. So now what? At this point Cynthia and I are going to take it a day at a time. No decision has to made right now. We’ll keep our eye on the news, email with Nadim who is watching the situation, and hope for the best. We are in the lucky position of having either option a positive. We go and experience a situation totally unique, or we find other destinations that will hold charm as well. Vamos a ver.

Time Warp

2016-08-27T23:58:00.000-05:00

8/22/16 7:15 p.m.

The internet is failing and my blood glucose level is 62. In other words, 0 for 2. The wine is good, Chilean of course, about the only country that Guatemala seems to have a wine connection with. The name of the hostel we are staying at seems fitting, Los Volcanes. I certainly can’t see a volcano but the memories are fresh. I know I am about ready to enter a time warp. As in, it is now 6:45 a.m. tomorrow in Delhi. What? Where the hell did that half hour go? Whose time do I try and set my brain to? I am leaving Guatemala but haven’t arrived anywhere yet. Limbo. Time out of mind. Kind of like Dali’s clock. Bent. OK, back to the book. It’s about a double agent Vietnamese refugee. 1975. Sounds as confusing as my time warp!

8/27/16 8:00 p.m.

Five days later??? Impossible. Seems like I wrote the above at the most 3 days ago. Well one day went into the never land. Flying West. Changing date lines. One day just sort of went up in smoke. Not to be regained until we do the reverse flight. Then, poof, we’ll regain a day. At least that is the promise. I followed our flight path. The most direct route would have taken us over Iran, Iraq, Afghanistan and Pakistan. Apparently not advisable. Instead we did a northerly arc. The Stans. Kazakhstan, Turkmenistan, Uzbekistan. Of course there would of been the day when that would’ve been “enemy territory”. Back in the USSR. But things change.

The Route

Which brings me to Delhi. The first time I landed there, 1988, I immediately knew I had arrived at a place beyond my imagination. The airport was packed. But not necessarily with passengers. It was the crash pad. People everywhere, but not going anywhere. Some food and a blanket, if you were lucky. Today the new Indira Gandhi International Airport is state of the art. Apparently it won the “Best International Airport” award two years in a row. And from what I saw it deserved it. A large bronze sculpture greeted us with all the positions of the yoga mantra, Salutation to the Sun. Pretty cool. Delhi was a whirlwind. We stayed on the edge of old and new Delhi. And what a difference. Old Delhi is non stop “in your face”. Crowded, noisy, fascinating. New Delhi was what made the British comfortable. Wide avenues, lots of trees and landscaping, a feeling of cleanliness. The Indians, of course, took it over in 1947. But they take pride in it. All the government buildings are there. The president lives there. The parliament works there. Mahatma Gandhi and Indira Gandhi met their fate there. On the opposite spectrum, Old Delhi is just that. It is the way India has been for centuries. Crowded, deals on the street, sleep on the street, piss on the street, honk on the street, thrive on the street. Take your choice, Delhi has both.

We had a contact in Delhi, compliments of Chicago Irving, Nadim. A fine young man whom Irving met in India some ten years ago. Took him from the street and helped him get his degree as a tour guide. We spent an evening and a day with him.

Nadim and Cynthia at Humayun's Tomb, Delhi

Cynthia and I picked the sights, he was the guide. He definitely wanted to show off New Delhi. He thought, probably correctly, that that is where the Western tourist would want to go. (I, on the other hand, was drawn to Chandni Chowk, heart of Old Delhi and the place of all things). So we toured the tourist highlights. Walked the final path of Gandhi, marked by cement imprints of his sandal tracks, to the place he was assassinated by his Sikh guard. So classic of the world we live in. The man dedicated to the non-violent way (ie. Martin Luther King) assassinated by the men that just couldn’t handle it.

Gandhi's Last Walk

Speaking of the Sikh’s. The highlight of the day was the Gurudwara Bangla Sahib temple. It was glorious in its majesty, and its message. One thing that got our immediate attention was its kitchen. As we toured it there was a throng of volunteers preparing food in its massive space. The Sikh Temple, in a mission to be of the people, prepare three meals a day available to anyone who needs to eat. Given the throngs of poor in Delhi, I can’t imagine how this is played out. Since we were not there at mealtime we do not know what restrictions, if any, are placed on those who come. Nadim said none, though I find that hard to believe. Anyway, an abundance of food was being prepared and I am sure it was being consumed by those in need.

Gurudwara Bangla Sahib Temple, Delhi

Just as we thought we were getting passed our jet lag (11-1/2 hours difference from the Lake) we had to arise at 3:30 a.m. to make our 6:30 a.m. flight to Manali. Somehow both Cynthia and I felt rested. We were ready to leave Delhi. The two prop plane took us up and into the thick clouds for the 1:15 hour flight. Talking about different worlds. We landed on the single runway with the same clouds completely enshrouding us.

Kullu Airport

The raging Beas river was running mad and muddy close to the runway. However, as we left the airport an immediate smile came to both of our faces. Four cows were leisurely strolling the street. Ahh, now we were in the India we knew and loved. The one where animals, particularly the sacred cow, has as much right to the road as the human carrying car. A 30-minute ride along a narrow two lane road, flanked by the unbelievably wild movement of the river, brought us to Old Manali.

The jury is still out here. Cynthia came down with a ferocious cold. She is definitely out of it and slept most of the day. The monsoon season has not left yet, thus the raging river. Our hotel got excellent write ups in LP and Trip Advisor. Given that, it was a shock. Kind of out of town, not really a hotel, more like a stay at the old farmhouse. Our room is large and comfortable, but modern it is not. Feels like the 19th century. More types of animals than I can count, flowers in a thriving garden, a beautiful view from the expansive porch down the cloud covered valley will eventually make us glad to be here.

Porch view of Manali Valley

But right now I must admit we are in a bit of befuddlement. I keep in mind what I long ago learned from my travels. To arrive in a strange new place is seldom easy. It takes getting one's legs. Right now it is way too early to write anything off.

8/28/16 8:30 a.m.

Remembering the lack of good coffee in India, Cynthia and I came prepared. Starbucks French Roast Instant. Recommended by good friend Pat Torpie. Smart. The choice of coffee was Nescafe or nothing. Yikes. No restaurant as such at the “hotel”. However, a decent breakfast was served on our porch. The sky is certainly not clear, but not threatening either. A peace prevails. Cynthia is better this morning. I am going from half empty to half full. One thing that is absolutely positive. We are in the mountains!

Blog Test

2016-08-21T19:50:00.002-05:00

Cynthia and I sit on our porch watching the volcanoes grow darker as night approaches. We won't see this again for almost three months. Tomorrow we set out, once again, for another "great adventure". It is our intention to record our experiences via this blog. I hope you join us! I promise not to make them too long, AND, we have the technical glitches worked out so Cynthia's photography will be an integral part. Next post, India! JB

Porch View
Lake Atitlan, Guatemala

Reflections

2015-03-24T12:24:00.000-06:00

As Cynthia and I come out of our jet lag, slowly the mind begins to clear. With the clarity comes some feelings and observations about the journey we have just had. Going into the trip I was a bit concerned about how being on the road would effect our general state of health. Many of you know I am diabetic. Since I was diagnosed in my mid fifties I have let it influence very little in terms of my daily activities, or our more ambitious desires in terms of travel. But I also know that a schedule and somewhat of a routine are factors in keeping the glucose readings under control. Being on the road in S.E. Asia does not fit that bill, nor would one want it to. I am glad to report that both Cynthia and I stayed healthy the entire journey. One time when we were in the extreme heat of Southern Cambodia Cynthia got dehydrated and had a set back. She recovered within half a day. Of course that would happen when we were staying in the most challenging of situations. By that I mean our room was a bit of a dive.
We approached this trip as we had not done before, we treated ourselves to comfort. In Myanmar one doesn't have a huge choice. One either stays in the few low rent hotels there are, or one pays a price. There is no in between. Also we booked ahead of time which is also out of the ordinary for our travel style, but seemed necessary given the limited infrastructure for travelers in Myanmar. On U.S. standards the rooms were not outrageous, but for S.E. Asia hotels in Myanmar are expensive. In general we paid between $50 and $80 a night (less in Cambodia and Laos). Sometimes that was for three of us. I have to say that the comfort did make a difference in how we felt, especially over the long haul. The rooms were air conditioned, and believe me with a few exceptions, it was hot. Also, to my surprise, most of them had refrigerators (a profit center with the mini bars), thus I was able to keep the insulin chilled. It would not be out the ordinary to spend a few hours in the afternoon just chilling, and it really helped to be able to do that in a room with light and cool air. Another thing we did to make the trip easier was to fly more than we had done before. Rather than getting beat up on a bus for 8-12 hours we flew for 45 minutes. Not only does it save the body but it gives one more time to do what you came there for. See the country. In all we took 7 flights either between countries or within a country. It definitely added to the expense of the trip, but we more than made up for it in savings on the body!
There is no question that going into the trip Myanmar was our focus. It seemed the less traveled, perhaps less developed, the "forbidden fruit". Many of these preconceived notions turned out to be true, others not. In terms of sights to visit Myanmar has some true highlights. The problem, if there is one, is that there are three main places all tourists go, so there is a concentration of foreigners in those locations. We did get off the beaten path in Southern Myanmar, but we didn't make it to the North where it is more tribal, but also has less in the way of traveler accommodations. Permits are often needed in order to go. But something clicked about 1/3 into the trip that I have always known. I am a tourist myself. To have an attitude about tourists, as many people do, is to have an attitude about oneself. Yes, it is nice to be unique but the reality is that is going to happen less and less in this world, even in a place like Myanmar.
As referenced in a previous blog, Myanmar seemed less restrictive than I had expected it to be. It seemed to have come a long way in terms of personal freedoms. The internet has become widely available within the last five years or so. Cell phones, which ten years ago cost an outrageous $10,000, now are affordable for the everyday person. But all is not well. Since we have left, Shan State in the North has seen violence between the army and citizens that is the worst in years. Another occurrence that has really hit home since our visit was government violence against a group who was protesting an education bill. As we were making our way North via car we came upon a large group of people marching down the middle of the road. They were boisterous, sign-carrying young people who were clearly doing a protest march. Some English was spoken so we asked what was happening. They indicated it was a protest march about education and they were walking from Mandalay to Yangon, believe me a long way. They had already been marching for 3 weeks and had several more weeks to go. It definitely made an impression. As I was cruising the news about 2 weeks later I came upon an article about mass arrests and jailing of some protestors near Yangon. It turned out that the army met the very same group outside of Yangon that we had encountered. They were forcibly broken up, and there was a mass arrest of the protestors. So clearly, though things are better, not all is milk and honey in Myanmar.

Protestors on the road from Mandalay to Yangon, Myanmar

Traveling in Cambodia and Laos was an education. I knew very little about either country, and what I did know was either related to the Vietnam War or the genocide of the Khmer Rouge. What I came away with was a thorough respect for the resilience of the population of both countries. Cambodia embraces their past as a way to approach the future, or maybe I should say how not to approach their future. They have acknowledged their horrific past (see blog post "Cambodia with Mixed Emotions") but seem to have moved on. The population is young and vital. Their economy seems to be strong, Phnom Penh is a happening city, and of course they have the incredible resource that is Angkor Wat. I would definitely return to Cambodia, try to do some of the areas further to the East, and enjoy the energy that tends to be infectious.
It was interesting to me to again realize that government affects life, but only so far. Day-to-day existence, especially for a traveler, can be the same in a military dictatorship as it is in a full fledged democracy. Laos (Lao Peoples Democratic Republic) has been definitely communist since 1975. They have a close relationship with Vietnam and revere Ho Chi Minh as a great father and leader. Actually it was the only time we had an occurrence where a young woman asked us where we were from, and when we said the U.S. her response was "oh no". But as travelers we were made welcome, had no restrictions on where we could go, and witnessed many small businesses that were individually owned and thriving. Laos paid the price for their location on the globe as they were systematically carpet bombed by the U.S. during the Vietnam war. Ho's name comes up once again, the reason being that the U.S. was trying to disrupt the Ho Chi Minh trail. Apparently it didn't work. But they are still suffering from the effects. While Cambodia has all the unexploded land mines, Laos has mass amounts of unexploded ordinance. It is a situation that is not going away any time soon, yet the country seems not to obsess on the past. In fact, if I had to recommend any city to visit in that part of the world it could be Luang Prabang.

Buddhist monks accepting alms, Luang Prabang, Laos

There is no doubt that this trip has rekindled Cynthia's and my love for travel. Our project in Paxanax, Guatemala was all consuming for many years. Now we have a comfortable home there and can look at other places to keep the juices flowing. Even on the plane on the way home we looked at each other and said, "where next"? We feel so fortunate to be able to fulfill these dreams. We are definitely not rich, but life is moving fast and we both agree that there is no better way to spend what we do have than on travel. Besides, I have always liked the adage, "die broke". So hopefully, off in the future, this blog will continue with stories of other far away places.

JB, photos by Cynthia Davis

Farewell South East Asia

2015-03-17T08:36:00.000-06:00

Morning came early. With a new moon high in the sky, Cynthia and I made it into the street before dawn. What was the catalyst? The Buddhist monks' "Call to Alms". Luang Prabang, our final stop on the trip, is a city of Buddhist wats. It is said that over 600 monks live in the old part of the city. So each morning the same ritual is repeated. At sunrise the monks "take to the streets" to bless the followers and receive their sustenance for the day. Mostly women have their seat all arranged and their offering, usually sticky rice or some fruit, prepared to give the monks as the procession goes by. Though it has become somewhat of a tourist attraction, it does not majorly detract from the ambiance the event creates. Well over a hundred monks in their orange robes giving and receiving. By 6:30 a.m. it was over. The streets returned to normal and the monks disappeared with no further fanfare.
We have been here in Luang Prabang for 5 days now. We left Vang Vieng in the pouring rain, a sure sign that it was time to move on. The usual confusion reigned as we arrived in LP 4 hours later, having no idea where we were, no luck with English-speaking help, and not a taxi in sight. We finally made it to what we thought was our hotel and were greeted by blank stares. Nope, no reservation here. It turned out there were two hotels with very similar names and all we had read in Trip Advisor had been about the one we didn't booked!!! Rats!!! Well, we got lucky and ended up really liking our digs, once we found it that is.
Luang Prabang gets a lot of hype. Most travelers who come to Laos come here, and it gets great reviews. I have to say I concur. Situated right on the Mekong River, it once again has that very laid back Laotion feel. No buildings over two stories, easy to get around on foot, a well preserved river front that lends itself perfectly to that 5:30 beer as one watches the sun set over the Mekong. And there is plenty to do. For those who haven't been in S.E. Asia before the Wats would be a great attraction. They are working Wats in that the monks are very much "in house" taking care of the various chores that need to be done. Cynthia and I, for the most part, took a pass on this; not out of a negative attitude but because we didn't want to ruin a good thing by overdoing it. So much of the countries we visited, with the possible exception of Cambodia, has the Pagodas, the Buddhas, and the Wats taking the main stage. That is as it should be since many of them have been there for over a thousand years, yet one can get a bit jaded and that it what we were avoiding.
Our days were taken up by going up the Mekong, doing a wonderful day with the elephants, and visiting some breathtaking waterfalls. When one goes up the Mekong it is obstensibly to see some caves that have the requisite Buddha's tucked away inside. Well, that was ok, but the trip up the river was the real draw for us. Jungle, some villages, seeing the different type of long boats that ply the river; all this was a real treat. Plus we stopped at what is billed as "whiskey village." Well, they are not kidding as the tribal village is known for distilling whisky and rice wine, and one is enticed into trying it as soon as you hit shore. Not bad is my revue! I bought two small bottles at an eye popping $1.20 each.
One of our favorite days of the entire trip was visiting Elephant Village. Laos is known for its elephants but as with so many living things the elephant population is being severely threatened by changes to their environment, as well as poaching. There used to be thousands of elephants in Laos and now they say the population is about 1,500. Of those some 500 are in the wild, another 500 are doing logging, and the rest are plying the tourist trade. I know that on the surface the tourist aspect doesn't sound so good. But in actuality there is definitely an argument for it. The logging industry is on the wane in Laos. Thus less "jobs" for the elephants. They are losing their natural habitat and they are an expensive animal to keep in captivity. Food alone runs big bucks, especially in a country with limited means like Laos. So there are many "elephant camps" popping up where the elephants are the go-to tourist draw. They are well fed, live in rural places, and have medical care when needed. And do the tourists love them. Cynthia and I learned the basic commands, go, stop, left, right. (I paid particular attenting to STOP, how how!) Then we took a short test ride on the elephant. Getting on and off is a bitch at first. They are way the hell up there!! Then after our lesson we took about a 45 minute ride. One has the option of riding in a "basket" on top of the elephant, or on its neck right behind the head. It was a trip. Again, Cynthia has the photos and they will be fun to check out. After lunch and a bit of a respite it was time to wash the elephants. They are done working at 2 in the afternoon and the elephants are ready for their afternoon bath in the river. One gets on their assigned elephant once again, and goes through the whole washing thing. It was again, so much fun. Their mahouts, each elephant has his own handler, gives a command and they spray water all over the place, for sure on the person sitting on the elephant. Cynthia and I just couldn't stop laughing. What made the day more enjoyable was that we made a wonderful connection with the 4 other people that were in our group. We were a diverse lot from all over the place and a representive from each decade. I, of course, was the oldest. Oh well, better get used to that!
Finally, the last two days we have rented a motor bike and made our way to the Tat Kuang Si Waterfalls. It was a beautiful one hour ride out there on a paved (yes!) road that ran through mountains and small villages. The falls themselves were truly impressive. There were several pools to swim in, they fell from dizzing heights, and the jungle atmosphere topped it all off. Getting there on the bike beat the hell out of the back of a tuk tuk. The fact that we went two days in succession makes the statement.
This evening we watched our final sunset over the Mekong, drinking the last of our Beerlao. The price was right for sure. $1.20 for a large beer, sunset included. Tomorrow we start the long journey home. We fly back to Bangkok in the afternoon, spend a quick night, then head to the airport for the LONG flight the next morning. I can't say enough about this trip (or maybe I already have!). There have been practically no negatives. I have certainly enjoyed doing this blog and, as I trust you know, really appreciate you reading it. When in Canada my intent is to post one final blog. I want to give my overall impressions of the trip, travel, and what it has meant to Cynthia and I. At the same time Cynthia will be able to begin posting some of her excellent photos. I have been totally impressed with them and I am sure they will be appreciated. So again my friends, we are happy, healthy, learning more each day, and somewhat sorry to be at the end of our journey!! JB

Laid Back Laos

2015-03-11T06:16:00.000-06:00

Cynthia and I are on our last day in Vang Vieng, Laos. It has definitely been a change of gears from both Myanmar and Cambodia. I think we put it into first. Our introduction to Laos was Vientiane, the capitol city of Laos. It sits on the Mekong River, which I swear gets around like no other river on the planet. It seems to pop up everywhere! We really liked Vientiane, mainly because of the easy layout and the fact that it is so CALM. A lot of the time one could literally walk down the middle of the street in the main tourist section and not to have to be concerned about being hit by a car. No high rises, an easy street layout, some good but very informal restaurants, all made for an easy time there. One downside, it was HOT. As hot as I have experienced in a long time. We would go back to the room in the afternoon and spend a couple of hours in the air con room. Without that it just would have been too exhausting.
There wasn't a lot to do in Vientiane. There are Wats, but Cynthia and I have seen the mother of all pagodas on this trip and we are a bit "Wated Out". So we rented a motor bike and hit the road to see the outlying sights. We went to Buddha Park which is actually cooler than it sounds. Oh yes, on the way out of town we went by the American Embassy. Fucking HUGE. What is that about (I hate to guess!)? Xieng Khuan, or Buddha Park, is this sculpture park envisioned and created by one man. Yes there are images of Buddha, but definitely not like we had seen before. Cynthia and I immediately thought of outsider art. It was built in 1958 and all the sculptures are of concrete. Some are huge, some grotesque, some just simply bizarre. When Cynthia is able to post some pictures on this blog be sure and check the ones out from the park.
We passed three easy days in the city, cruising the streets, hitting the night market, riding the bike, and shopping. At least looking, as the serious consumer days seem to have passed us both by. Sunday morning we got on a bus for the trip to Vang Vieng. We started slow, I kept waiting for the Guatemalan Chicken Bus attitude. NO ONE PASSES ME. I PASS EVERYONE. I swear the entire ride we never made it over 40 MPH. Easy does it. Oh lets stop here for a while to get some snacks. Cracked me up! I'm sure they have a lot fewer road deaths here than most other countries. Of course it also has to do with the reality of the condition of the roads. ROUGH!
Vang Vieng, which sits on the Nam Song River, used to be party central. As in raves and drugs. All kinds. It used to be a lot of other things as well. On the outskirts of the small town is this long area of crumbling pavement. LONG. Immediately you wonder what the hell is this? Well it was an air strip built by the CIA during, or even before, the Vietnam War. It was used by Air America (google it) to do all kinds of shit. As a matter of fact I have a good high school friend who was a pilot in the Air Force during the Vietnam war. I knew he had operated out of Laos (again, it was a secret part of the war). So I wrote him and asked if he had ever flown out of Lima Site 27, the code name for this airport. He wrote back and said he was based at another Lima site but he had flown in and out of here several times. Yikes. Kind of brings it all home!!
We have rented motor bikes two of the days here. First day we took this spine jarring ride through the back country. Loved it but the road was a bitch. We passed through several Hmong villages (very poor), saw some beautiful scenery, and went caving. Once, though there are a ton of caves here. We saw the largest spider I have ever seen, and we have some big ones in Guatemala. Also a big ass snake, and some beautiful scenery. This morning we went kayaking. It was the 1/2 day version. Well we left the town at 9 and were back by 10:30. Cyn and I were saying WTF? Does the all day version give one 2 hours on the river? Still enjoyed it but we had most of the day left. So I rented a bike again and went off solo. Had a great day. No traffic, seriously back roads, small villages, and a pathetic waterfall (it's the dry season). So glad to be back in touch with two wheels.
Tomorrow Cyn and I leave for Luang Prabang, the culmination of our trip. It gets great reviews. We'll find out in the next blog. Know that Cynthia and I are happy, healthy, still learning, and very laid back. As always, thanks so much for reading the blog!!! P.S. We just had a great dinner. Family place. Kids and cats running all over. $12 for the two of us including two large Lao Beers. We have spent more than this but it says what is possible.