tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37148022893045620352018-09-16T20:06:38.958-07:00PicotripIt's a little trip!
Picotrip is a mini travel blog of our tiny adventures in a small world.Mattnoreply@blogger.comBlogger58125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3714802289304562035.post-8002644470878186412008-06-23T22:14:00.000-07:002008-06-24T09:46:27.917-07:00Antelope CanyonAntelope Canyon is world famous. If you've never heard of it, I bet you've seen pictures many times. Slot canyons are another unique feature of this part of Arizona and Utah - narrow, snaking fissures in the desert rock which are dry for except for the brief flash floods which shape them.<br /><br />If you visit, pick your time of day. Late morning brings great light but also packs of tripod-wielding photographers who make War of the Worlds look like a walk in the park. We kept our cool, took our time and were rewarded with the canyon all to ourselves.<br /><center><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/SGCLwmdf6cI/AAAAAAAACvU/By7szPfpsKk/s1600-h/IMG_7926.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" class="clsSlimborder" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/SGCLwmdf6cI/AAAAAAAACvU/By7szPfpsKk/s320/IMG_7926.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5215322035569289666" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/SGCL4txbZBI/AAAAAAAACvc/ZyR6rJS5Yew/s1600-h/IMG_7934.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" class="clsSlimborder" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/SGCL4txbZBI/AAAAAAAACvc/ZyR6rJS5Yew/s320/IMG_7934.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5215322174970881042" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/SGCMcNjWbfI/AAAAAAAACwM/QdveXf6iCnk/s1600-h/IMG_7956.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" class="clsSlimborder" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/SGCMcNjWbfI/AAAAAAAACwM/QdveXf6iCnk/s320/IMG_7956.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5215322784797191666" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/SGCMXFBobbI/AAAAAAAACwE/-0ApUZ3RsEk/s1600-h/IMG_7998.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" class="clsSlimborder" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/SGCMXFBobbI/AAAAAAAACwE/-0ApUZ3RsEk/s320/IMG_7998.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5215322696608935346" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/SGCMRwTqBYI/AAAAAAAACv8/l00vF9qIV-Y/s1600-h/IMG_8013.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" class="clsSlimborder" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/SGCMRwTqBYI/AAAAAAAACv8/l00vF9qIV-Y/s320/IMG_8013.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5215322605148046722" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/SGCMI_v-uDI/AAAAAAAACv0/VBLhsfEdtBM/s1600-h/IMG_8019.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" class="clsSlimborder" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/SGCMI_v-uDI/AAAAAAAACv0/VBLhsfEdtBM/s320/IMG_8019.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5215322454674552882" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/SGCMEW_gClI/AAAAAAAACvs/UuxMUoASey4/s1600-h/IMG_8038.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" class="clsSlimborder" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/SGCMEW_gClI/AAAAAAAACvs/UuxMUoASey4/s320/IMG_8038.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5215322375014320722" /></a> <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/SGCL_YLSh-I/AAAAAAAACvk/Nwmg_ybZL7I/s1600-h/IMG_8065.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" class="clsSlimborder" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/SGCL_YLSh-I/AAAAAAAACvk/Nwmg_ybZL7I/s320/IMG_8065.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5215322289432856546" /></a><br /></center>Mattnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3714802289304562035.post-46205670169086460212008-06-23T22:04:00.000-07:002008-06-24T09:49:08.584-07:00Desert days and nightsSpring is the perfect time to visit the high desert of the Colorado Plateau. Mary and I spent 4 days and a couple of nights trekking and camping in the Needles District of Canyonlands National Park. We had a backcountry permit for an area called Chesler Park, an arid meadow surrounded on all sides by the towering spires of rock which give Needles its name.<br /><br />This is spectacular country and a unique landscape. The deep canyons and impossible looking buttes are instantly recognisable as the American West. Nowhere else on earth looks like this. Spending nights under the stars (so many stars!) is a special experience, the sky so clear and dark you can see satellites tracking silently overhead.<br /><br />One of the disadvantages of trekking and camping in the desert is you have to carry in all your own water - or find it. Lugging 15 litres of water makes you wonder if that titanium cookware set in your rucksack was worth the expense.<br /><center><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/SGCRQZI7IYI/AAAAAAAACw0/IhS1EVwz-oA/s1600-h/IMG_7796.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/SGCRQZI7IYI/AAAAAAAACw0/IhS1EVwz-oA/s320/IMG_7796.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5215328079307284866" /></a><br />Mary enters Chesler Park.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/SGCRKplg5pI/AAAAAAAACws/8Fpf0KRKMNA/s1600-h/IMG_7811.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/SGCRKplg5pI/AAAAAAAACws/8Fpf0KRKMNA/s320/IMG_7811.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5215327980642952850" /></a><br />A desert flower.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/SGCRFtFK52I/AAAAAAAACwk/lVRjpMINhsg/s1600-h/IMG_7822.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/SGCRFtFK52I/AAAAAAAACwk/lVRjpMINhsg/s320/IMG_7822.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5215327895681689442" /></a><br />Another desert flower.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/SGCRAqyvuoI/AAAAAAAACwc/nFk20yQRI-o/s1600-h/IMG_7893.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/SGCRAqyvuoI/AAAAAAAACwc/nFk20yQRI-o/s320/IMG_7893.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5215327809168194178" /></a><br />Balloon prepares to fly over Monument Valley.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/SGCQ6qsJ3YI/AAAAAAAACwU/HLo2cUYvxPc/s1600-h/IMG_7899.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/SGCQ6qsJ3YI/AAAAAAAACwU/HLo2cUYvxPc/s320/IMG_7899.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5215327706061331842" /></a><br />Monumental Monument Valley.<br /></center>Mattnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3714802289304562035.post-85460492729896763642008-04-28T18:58:00.000-07:002008-04-30T18:02:56.818-07:00OlympolitikI was motivated to write something after reading a post on BBC News reporting <a href="http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/talking_point/7340987.stm">Chinese reaction to the Olympic torch protests</a> - which seem to be universally hostile to demonstrations in the west. I've no idea how representative the comments are, but since it's the good old BBC (who I trust beyond all reason), and given that Britain enjoys uncensored free speech, I'm prepared to believe they're at least <a href="http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/asia-pacific/7356107.stm">commonly held views among Han Chinese</a>.<br /><br />The posts make several points, most of which made my blood boil. Grrrr:<br /><ol><li>The Olympics are non-political and should not be used by protestors to make a political point.</li><li>Tibet has been part of China "for more 1,000 years" [sic].</li><li>China has poured huge resources into Tibet to develop the economy.</li><li>Tibet was previously a very unequal, feudal society.</li><li>Most Westerners haven't been to China and misunderstand the country and it's politics.<br /></li><li>Westerners are hypocritical in their condemnation given their own human rights abuses at Guantanamo, Iraq and other places.</li></ol>Lets vent some spleen at these points, in order.<br /><ol><li>Beijing is out to make as much political capital out of the Olympics as possible and if you live by the sword, expect to feel it poking you in the <a href="http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=jacksey">jacksy</a> from time to time. Among the torch-related stunts we still have to look forward to are a procession though Tibet itself (to show Chinese unity, naturally) and climbers <a href="http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/asia-pacific/7370408.stm">carrying the torch to the summit of Everest</a>. No political controversy there then.</li><li>This is just wrong. Sadly I don't have the space to summarise 1,000 years of Tibetan and Chinese history here, but there are plenty of books on the subject. For maximum accuracy, try reading one that's been not been approved for publication by the Chinese Communist Party. My recent personal favorites can be bought <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Search-Panchen-Lama-Isabel-Hilton/dp/0393321673/ref=pd_bbs_sr_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1209487095&sr=8-1">here</a> and <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Seven-Years-Tibet-Heinrich-Harrer/dp/0874778883/ref=pd_bbs_sr_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1209487158&sr=1-1">here</a>.<br /></li><li>This is true, but in no way excuses the systematic destruction of an entire culture, religion and way of life. 98% of Tibet's religious buildings were destroyed in the Cultural Revolution. Ever notice the UN or Oxfam battling Buddhist monks on the street? No, me neither.</li><li>Also true, but again, no reason for a military invasion, unless you're a Maoist of course, when it turns out to be all the justification you need. Unhelpfully, the oppressed masses that were 'liberated' by Mao have ever since demanded the return of the Dalai Lama. Don't those ungrateful proles don't know a good oppressive dictatorship when they see one?</li><li>I suspect a greater proportion of westerners have been to China than Chinese have been to Tibet. And what do Chinese see if they visit? The Chinese tourists we saw in Tibet were all lead around in large, homogenous tour groups and you can bet the violent history of the Cultural Revolution wasn't on the itinerary. The main reason to go to Tibet for a Han Chinese is the big subsidy the government gives you to resettle there in order to dilute the ethnic Tibetan population.<br /></li><li>It's a terrible shame that Guantanamo, Abu Ghraib and other recent western abuses have undermined our moral authority. But the deaths of millions of Tibetans in the Great Leap Forward and tens of thousands more in the Cultural Revolution, hardly compares to Guantanamo (where I hear the <a href="http://www.michaelmoore.com/sicko/checkup/">medical faciities are excellent</a>). And it's probably best not to get started on Chinese Support for the governments of North Korea, Burma, Sudan and Zimbabwe.</li></ol><br />Perhaps the bigger question is, should we pay any attention to the opinions of someone who lives in a country where information, and thus opinion, is state controlled?<br /><center><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/SBbeNTddzEI/AAAAAAAACuE/xuzYehQfCwE/s1600-h/dl.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/SBbeNTddzEI/AAAAAAAACuE/xuzYehQfCwE/s320/dl.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5194583540361972802" border="0" /></a><br />Don't worry, I'm not gonna get all misty-eyed about the Dali Lama. But since the DL's image is banned, simply printing this page in China (including Tibet) would mean jail time (bird for petty, as they say back home). Thankfully little Picotrip is unlikely to get anyone banged up in China since you can't read it there, as I reported from Tibet in <a href="http://www.picotrip.com/2007/06/gompas-n-governments.html">an earlier post</a>.<br /></center><br />Oh, and I've switched on comments, in the interests of free speech and the right to reply ;-) Let's see if we get any.Mattnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3714802289304562035.post-82619601513878564542008-04-04T16:59:00.000-07:002008-04-09T23:32:14.032-07:00The West Highland WayLast summer, Mary and I walked the West Highland Way - a 95 mile trek across the Highlands of Scotland. It runs from the outskirts of Glasgow, along the length of <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Loch_Lomond">Loch Lomond</a>, Britain's largest lake, across Rannoch Moor and past famous and dramatic <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Glen_Coe">Glen Coe</a>. The Way finishes in the Highlands at the foot of <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ben_Nevis">Ben Nevis</a>, Britain's highest mountain.<br /><br /><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rannoch_Moor">Rannoch Moor</a> is Britain's largest uninhabited wilderness - dramatic, wild and beautiful. At just 50 square miles however, it serves as a reminder of how densely populated Britain is. 50 square miles would be swallowed up in the American West or the Australian Outback. I wonder if there might even be 50 square miles in America where no one has ever set foot? It seems entirely conceivable that there are small areas in the West that were as unappealing and inhospitable to Native Americans as they are to the population today.<br /><center><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R_bkrWQCX-I/AAAAAAAACto/Oa2YnSzScek/s1600-h/us+vs+uk.png"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R_bkrWQCX-I/AAAAAAAACto/Oa2YnSzScek/s400/us+vs+uk.png" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5185583454322057186" /></a><br />A lot of trouble to emphasize the bleedin' obvious: Scale drawings of the USA and UK. The black square inside the UK represents 50 miles square. The tiny white square inside that represents 50 square miles - the size of Rannoch Moor, Britain's largest uninhabited wilderness. It also happens to be about the same size as the city of San Francisco. It's easier to see if you <a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R_bkrWQCX-I/AAAAAAAACto/Oa2YnSzScek/s1600-h/us+vs+uk.png">click for a larger image</a>.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R_bTsGQCX4I/AAAAAAAACsY/2icfBpJzXXo/s1600-h/2388061584_33b9180146_b.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R_bTsGQCX4I/AAAAAAAACsY/2icfBpJzXXo/s320/2388061584_33b9180146_b.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5185564775509286786" /></a><br />On the banks of Loch Lomond, Britain's largest lake and stunning it is too.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R_bTbmQCX3I/AAAAAAAACsQ/BS9B_8Xcp5c/s1600-h/2388058680_9d990e58b6_b.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R_bTbmQCX3I/AAAAAAAACsQ/BS9B_8Xcp5c/s320/2388058680_9d990e58b6_b.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5185564492041445234" /></a><br />On Rannoch Moor. Hey! I thought you said it was uninhabited!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R_bTW2QCX2I/AAAAAAAACsI/uQsMCviOpc4/s1600-h/2387230109_1c529ece1f_b.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R_bTW2QCX2I/AAAAAAAACsI/uQsMCviOpc4/s320/2387230109_1c529ece1f_b.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5185564410437066594" /></a><br />Mary finds the way. Don't say anything, but she's standing next to a trail marker.<br /><br /><div width="100%" style="margin-left:30px;"><br /><script type="text/javascript" src="http://www.flickr.com/badge_code_v2.gne?count=10&display=random&size=s&layout=x&source=user_set&user=89965300%40N00&set=72157604386528063&context=in%2Fset-72157604386528063%2F"></script><br /></div><br /><div width="100%" style="overflow: auto; clear:both;">More <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/mattmary/sets/72157604386528063/">photos from the trek</a></div>.<br /></center>Mattnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3714802289304562035.post-37285063244665788552008-03-02T23:04:00.000-08:002008-03-02T22:05:29.164-08:00Into the BackcountryMary, Rockett and I took a 2 day backcountry trip in and around Mammoth Lakes in the Californian High Sierra. We learned a bunch of new techniques, mostly for going *uphill* - and much about avalanche awareness.<br /><br />There's something very satisfying about knowing you earned every downhill turn by having climbed for it first. Even more gratifying was the fresh powder we got to ski from a storm 48 hours earlier. I think we'll be back very soon. Perhaps that's why they call it the backcountry.<br /><center><br /><object height="350" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/9gx8h448VGw"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/9gx8h448VGw" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" height="350" width="425"></embed></object><br /><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(153, 153, 153);">Tip: click the grey play button in the center of the video to play it in this page (clicking outside the play button will take you to the youtube website and play the video there).</span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R8hnjZReyvI/AAAAAAAACqI/1EMqgARtJJI/s1600-h/IMG_7345.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R8hnjZReyvI/AAAAAAAACqI/1EMqgARtJJI/s320/IMG_7345.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5172498029812304626" border="0" /></a><br />Contrails linger in the cold sky above Mono Lake on the way to Mammoth.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R8hnBpReytI/AAAAAAAACp4/HKj2e1oS5E8/s1600-h/IMG_0958.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R8hnBpReytI/AAAAAAAACp4/HKj2e1oS5E8/s320/IMG_0958.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5172497449991719634" border="0" /></a><br />Our guide Neil, Rockett and Mary ski towards Red Cone, our destination on day 2.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R8hoVpReyzI/AAAAAAAACqo/AVhWwVKFlf0/s1600-h/IMG_0961.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R8hoVpReyzI/AAAAAAAACqo/AVhWwVKFlf0/s320/IMG_0961.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5172498893100731186" border="0" /></a><br />Rockett learns to read the subtle signs of the backcountry...<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R8hoJZReyyI/AAAAAAAACqg/M04pjhHe82o/s1600-h/IMG_0970.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R8hoJZReyyI/AAAAAAAACqg/M04pjhHe82o/s320/IMG_0970.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5172498682647333666" border="0" /></a><br />... and how to perform oh-so-elegant uphill kick turns.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R8hn65ReyxI/AAAAAAAACqY/0ijgj627wsg/s1600-h/IMG_0979.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R8hn65ReyxI/AAAAAAAACqY/0ijgj627wsg/s320/IMG_0979.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5172498433539230482" border="0" /></a><br />Mary skis a gully on the decent from Red Cone.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R8hnvZReywI/AAAAAAAACqQ/UA7Rx8GZ0lQ/s1600-h/IMG_5702.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R8hnvZReywI/AAAAAAAACqQ/UA7Rx8GZ0lQ/s320/IMG_5702.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5172498235970734850" border="0" /></a><br />Happy skiers framed by our first tracks down Red Cone Bowl.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R8teIZRey0I/AAAAAAAACq0/S1xXpvXnm58/s1600-h/mono+lake.png"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R8teIZRey0I/AAAAAAAACq0/S1xXpvXnm58/s400/mono+lake.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173332095281318722" border="0" /></a><br />A stitch-together of sunset over Mono Lake. Click on the picture for a decent sized version.<br /></center>Mattnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3714802289304562035.post-41501038957233029582008-02-17T08:50:00.000-08:002008-04-03T19:56:51.700-07:00Mr Silent KayThe last 2 years of our lives have been stalked by a shadowy figure. Although his only trace was a small scar, his influence never left us and for a while he was the most important character in our lives. He became such a fixture of our conversation, particularly those back home, that he assumed his own identity. Recently he's become a less frequent visitor but he can still make his presence felt. Mr Silent Kay is never far away.<br /><br />Two years ago Mary's knees were equally noteworthy - and only for their aesthetic appeal. All that changed in the instant of a bad fall in Alaska, and Mr Silent Kay entered our lives.<br /><br />Mary underwent reconstruction of the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Anterior_cruciate_ligament">anterior cruciate ligament</a> (ACL) in her right knee. The procedure replaces the damaged ACL with a <a href="http://www.eorthopod.com/public/patient_education/6614/patellar_tendon_graft_reconstruction_of_the_acl.html">piece taken from another ligament</a> in the knee. It's a very clever procedure performed by <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Arthroscopy">arthroscopy</a> - a minimally invasive keyhole surgery using a type of endoscope. Still, it meant we were out of action for an entire summer while Mary was first immobile and then on crutches. Mary missed last years ski season, but she's back this year. Mr Silent Kay is here too and perhaps even enjoying himself a little.<br /><center><br /><object width="425" height="350"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/EX03MR0mIZQ"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/EX03MR0mIZQ" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="425" height="350"></embed></object><br /><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(153, 153, 153);">Tip: click the grey play button in the center of the video to play it in this page (clicking outside the play button will take you to the youtube website and play the video there).</span><br /></center>Mattnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3714802289304562035.post-11435413478496577322008-02-08T16:36:00.000-08:002008-02-09T07:54:53.880-08:00Ski Movie!Silent Kay productions, in association with picotrip is proud to announce our first microcontent-length feature.<br /><blockquote>On March 3, 1969 the United States Navy established an elite school for the top one percent of its pilots. Its purpose was to teach the lost art of all-mountain skiing and to ensure that the handful of men and women who graduated could make parallel turns in all conditions. They succeeded. Today, the Navy calls it Ski School. The flyers call it: TOP FUN.</blockquote><center><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R6z83Lo0mHI/AAAAAAAACpE/oOySe6XNGAM/s1600-h/Top+Fun+1000.png"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R6z83Lo0mHI/AAAAAAAACpE/oOySe6XNGAM/s400/Top+Fun+1000.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5164780897634130034" border="0" /></a><br />Ghost Rider, this is Strike. We have unknown aircraft inbound Mustang. Your vector zero-nine-zero for bogey.<br /><br /><object height="355" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/Yc8WOPKW57Q&rel=1"><param name="wmode" value="transparent"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/Yc8WOPKW57Q&rel=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" height="355" width="425"></embed></object><br /><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(153, 153, 153);">Tip: click the grey play button in the center of the video to play it in this page (clicking outside the play button will take you to the youtube website and play the video there).</span><br /></center>Mattnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3714802289304562035.post-2494736978782995862008-01-30T18:24:00.000-08:002008-02-04T23:01:53.837-08:00Ducking the RopeIf you want to ski fresh, untracked powder and lay down the first run in a freshie, you've got 3 choices:<br /><ol><li>Get up at the crack of dawn after a big storm at a resort.</li><li>Go <a href="http://www.picotrip.com/search/label/heliski">heliskiing</a>. </li><li>Go backcountry.</li></ol>Option 1 might be the simplest, but you'll probably only get one or two runs before everything is skied-out. Anyone who knows Mary and I will also realise, this is not an option available to us.<br />Option 2 guarantees a lot of runs, but is hellishly expensive.<br />Option 3 involves a lot of hiking up for each run down, and sometimes camping out in the snow. Unless...<br /><br />Ducking the rope at the edge of a ski area and skiing out-of-bounds gets you backcountry skiing, with a lift at the end of each run. Fresh, untracked powder every run, all day. You may loose your pass, but for conditions like this, isn't it worth it? And ski patrol have to catch you first ;-)<br /><center><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R6Fv7ro0l-I/AAAAAAAACoI/_8sTcupwr-M/s1600-h/IMG_6918.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R6Fv7ro0l-I/AAAAAAAACoI/_8sTcupwr-M/s320/IMG_6918.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5161529719060207586" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R6aHY7o0mCI/AAAAAAAACog/z3W_V0AZgzQ/s1600-h/IMG_6904.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R6aHY7o0mCI/AAAAAAAACog/z3W_V0AZgzQ/s320/IMG_6904.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5162962885222373410" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R6aGn7o0mBI/AAAAAAAACoY/Ld--Ke44CTg/s1600-h/IMG_6919.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R6aGn7o0mBI/AAAAAAAACoY/Ld--Ke44CTg/s320/IMG_6919.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5162962043408783378" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R6aILLo0mDI/AAAAAAAACos/bXrTwwwKFk8/s1600-h/IMG_6891.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R6aILLo0mDI/AAAAAAAACos/bXrTwwwKFk8/s320/IMG_6891.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5162963748510799922" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R6FsTLo0l7I/AAAAAAAACnw/7cZvJ0xxXHc/s1600-h/IMG_6932.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R6FsTLo0l7I/AAAAAAAACnw/7cZvJ0xxXHc/s320/IMG_6932.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5161525724740622258" border="0" /></a><br /></center><br />Name the skier and win an invitation to our 'lil ski cabin in Tahoe!Mattnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3714802289304562035.post-58735888259533544712008-01-16T17:39:00.000-08:002008-01-16T18:55:26.603-08:00Competition Time!To mark our arrival in Tahoe for the ski season, picotrip is pleased to announce our first competition! Try and spot the weather-related difference between the 2 pictures of our 'lil old ski cabin - one taken in the autumn and one taken this afternoon. Every correct answer wins an invitation to come and stay in our cabin and ski with us in Tahoe! Look closely and good luck!<br /><center><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R460LQyLviI/AAAAAAAACkE/DbDoSS11cOA/s1600-h/IMG_4376.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R460LQyLviI/AAAAAAAACkE/DbDoSS11cOA/s320/IMG_4376.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5156256728962809378" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R4635wyLvjI/AAAAAAAACkM/IxxEHec4U1k/s1600-h/IMG_6857.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R4635wyLvjI/AAAAAAAACkM/IxxEHec4U1k/s320/IMG_6857.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5156260826361609778" /></a><br /></center>Mattnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3714802289304562035.post-85251062386420369332008-01-02T16:50:00.000-08:002008-04-29T10:27:48.178-07:00A Funny Thing Happened on the Way Through AsiaMy cycle odyssey through South East Asia has come to an end! As a final post for this trip I thought I'd share some oh-so-funny things I saw along the way.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Tonight's Specials</span><br />Menus are often the victim of some amusing translations. Here are some of the funnier things I found available for dinner.<br /><ul><li>Pork party with spaghetti</li><li>Killed beef, Korean style</li><li>Batterian Fish</li><li>Fried rice with pork pies and vegetable (one for the Brits)</li><li>Bits of pork</li><li>Fish of the year<br /></li></ul><span style="font-weight: bold;">Health and Safety</span><br />When there are so many other basic necessities to worry about, safety often falls down the list of concerns in developing nations. Here are some violations that would stop a health and safety officers heart.<br /><ul><li>A guy arc welding, using a stylish pair of aviator sunglasses for eye protection. Less funny were the many instances of welders using no eye protection at all.</li><li>Two guys on a motorbike, carrying an enormous sheet of glass between them, across the bike. Other cargo carried by terrified motorcyclists included double beds and mattresses, large cabinets and all manner of household furniture.<br /></li><li>A family of four on a motorbike (nothing unusual about that) with the woman holding aloft a stand, suspending her intravenous drip.</li></ul><span style="font-weight: bold;">Useful Phrases</span><br />I stopped for noodles in Laos and 'talked' to a Vietnamese girl whose only English came from a Viet phrase book. It was a tricky conversation, particularly since the phrases in the book were not the kind you'd usually expect to find. There was an emphases on military vocabulary and rather extreme situations. Here are some examples:<br /><ul><li>She has been dead for 3 hours</li><li>He has been dumb from birth</li><li>How did you escape?</li><li>You are hurting me</li><li>Can you make me a set of false teeth?</li><li>My beard is very hard</li><li>Can we buy some nuts for the monkeys?</li></ul><br /><center><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R3u98gyLozI/AAAAAAAABbw/hzh8altQOx4/s1600-h/IMG_5413.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R3u98gyLozI/AAAAAAAABbw/hzh8altQOx4/s320/IMG_5413.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5150919446118507314" border="0" /></a><br />The first time I saw these frames for carrying chickens in Cambodia, I thought they were clever. Then I realised the suspended chickens were still alive. Super fresh and super ingenious!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R3u-IQyLo0I/AAAAAAAABb4/jg0dFY-_R_k/s1600-h/IMG_5410.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R3u-IQyLo0I/AAAAAAAABb4/jg0dFY-_R_k/s320/IMG_5410.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5150919647981970242" border="0" /></a><br />Cambodian minibuses are both passenger and freight carriers. Bags of rice and cement are commonly carried like this with passengers inside and on the roof.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R3u9yAyLoyI/AAAAAAAABbo/qRHkK5ZXNWc/s1600-h/IMG_5415.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R3u9yAyLoyI/AAAAAAAABbo/qRHkK5ZXNWc/s320/IMG_5415.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5150919265729880866" border="0" /></a><br />A few more live chickens and this biker may even take off!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R3u9mgyLoxI/AAAAAAAABbg/ydg8PoIHRj0/s1600-h/IMG_5639.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R3u9mgyLoxI/AAAAAAAABbg/ydg8PoIHRj0/s320/IMG_5639.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5150919068161385234" border="0" /></a><br />No health and safety problems here. A chap at a metal shop in Phenom Penh machines a new stem for my bike.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R3u9ZgyLowI/AAAAAAAABbY/LaaVeKjg_Gk/s1600-h/IMG_5974.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R3u9ZgyLowI/AAAAAAAABbY/LaaVeKjg_Gk/s320/IMG_5974.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5150918844823085826" border="0" /></a><br />What's the English for guerrilla warfare? The phrasebook told us, but conversation was still tricky with this eager young Viet lass.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R3u9JAyLovI/AAAAAAAABbQ/xZ97PhSkfaI/s1600-h/IMG_6000.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R3u9JAyLovI/AAAAAAAABbQ/xZ97PhSkfaI/s320/IMG_6000.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5150918561355244274" border="0" /></a><br />Everything and the kitchen sink, but no cycle panniers.<br /></center>Mattnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3714802289304562035.post-38703352205585826962008-01-01T02:45:00.000-08:002008-04-14T11:51:55.921-07:00HanoiI already miss Hanoi. A jumbled, pulsing city full of back streets filled to bursting with all sorts of stalls, shops and street food. It's a great place to hang out and meet people.<br /><center><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R3p9TwyLouI/AAAAAAAABbI/85xnEG21VnU/s1600-h/IMG_6507.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R3p9TwyLouI/AAAAAAAABbI/85xnEG21VnU/s320/IMG_6507.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5150566902317949666" /></a><br />Hanoi traffic is particularly crazy, even by the standards of developing countries. Traffic is dominated by bicycles, scooters and motorcycles and if the road is clogged, these all flood onto the sidewalks. The best (and indeed only) way to cross the road is simply to walk out into the traffic and let it flow around you. It's important to go slowly so that the various bikers have a chance to judge your speed and trajectory. Junctions are a wonder to behold, particularly from above. Traffic signals are rare - instead, traffic slows down and merging streets weave through each other in an intricate dance. The system doesn't always work however and I was twice involved in minor crashes while perched on the back of motorcycle taxis. No one ever gets irate. It's just all part of the wider traffic of life.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R3p00AyLorI/AAAAAAAABaw/Pys2Nc9kCOk/s1600-h/IMG_6597.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R3p00AyLorI/AAAAAAAABaw/Pys2Nc9kCOk/s320/IMG_6597.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5150557560764080818" border="0" /></a><br />Uncle Ho's mausoleum. The poor chap wanted to be cremated but the state had other ideas. I filed past his waxy remains with lots of Vietnamese. He's only open from 8am to 10:30am, 5 days a week. Being a dead communist leader would seem like a good gig, at least in terms of the hours.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R3p1DQyLosI/AAAAAAAABa4/49yIEziUF9g/s1600-h/IMG_6593.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R3p1DQyLosI/AAAAAAAABa4/49yIEziUF9g/s320/IMG_6593.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5150557822757085890" border="0" /></a><br />The Ho Chi Minh Museum was the strangest museum I've ever been to. Rather than historical exhibits or information it instead displayed a collection of symbolic exhibits, attempting to show Ho's struggle and that of the nation. It was all pretty impenetrable to me, this strange sculpture being a prime example.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R3p0NQyLoqI/AAAAAAAABao/4soqt1ViDkE/s1600-h/IMG_6636.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R3p0NQyLoqI/AAAAAAAABao/4soqt1ViDkE/s320/IMG_6636.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5150556895044149922" border="0" /></a><br />A typical back street in Hanoi's Old Quarter.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R3p0AQyLopI/AAAAAAAABag/qDJsy8nMBug/s1600-h/IMG_6638.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R3p0AQyLopI/AAAAAAAABag/qDJsy8nMBug/s320/IMG_6638.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5150556671705850514" border="0" /></a><br />I bought some oranges from this bright and breezy street seller.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R3pzzgyLooI/AAAAAAAABaY/Pl_-of2fag8/s1600-h/IMG_6644.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R3pzzgyLooI/AAAAAAAABaY/Pl_-of2fag8/s320/IMG_6644.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5150556452662518402" border="0" /></a><br />The street food in Hanoi was excellent. Each stall specializes in a particular kind of dish, which makes repeat ordering very simple but the first visit very complex.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R3pzmQyLonI/AAAAAAAABaQ/i6jRnNJ_gTo/s1600-h/IMG_6656.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R3pzmQyLonI/AAAAAAAABaQ/i6jRnNJ_gTo/s320/IMG_6656.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5150556225029251698" border="0" /></a><br />I bought an old Soviet watch from this repair stall. The number of shops and stalls devoted to repairing everything from motorcycles to clocks makes you realise what a throw-away society the West has become.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R3pzcAyLomI/AAAAAAAABaI/cJvaqVbLV1g/s1600-h/IMG_6666.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R3pzcAyLomI/AAAAAAAABaI/cJvaqVbLV1g/s320/IMG_6666.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5150556048935592546" border="0" /></a><br />On the way back through Bangkok I enjoyed this super tasty street stall meal, which came with beer served over ice in a child's bucket. Mmmm. Bucket of beer.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R3pzRQyLolI/AAAAAAAABaA/sHt4G9Lo2gQ/s1600-h/IMG_6686.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R3pzRQyLolI/AAAAAAAABaA/sHt4G9Lo2gQ/s320/IMG_6686.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5150555864251998802" border="0" /></a><br />Spectators in Bangkok rooting for their boxer at a Thai boxing arena.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R3pzDQyLokI/AAAAAAAABZ4/_tDjLL7z1Zs/s1600-h/IMG_6821.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R3pzDQyLokI/AAAAAAAABZ4/_tDjLL7z1Zs/s320/IMG_6821.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5150555623733830210" border="0" /></a><br />Thai boxing is a very young mans sport and surprisingly full of fascinating ritual.<br /></center>Mattnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3714802289304562035.post-81223775782119078532007-12-20T20:46:00.000-08:002008-04-14T11:51:55.922-07:00Cobra and CrackersWatch out <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Captain_Beaky">Hissing Sid</a>, <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wanderly_Wagon">Sneaky Snake</a> and serpent from the Garden of Eden. It's payback time!<br /><br />Le Mat is a town just outside Hanoi where they specialize in exotic cuisines - particularly snake. Three of us caught a cab into town and we were soon joined by two motorcycle outriders banging on the windows and yelling at us. It turns out we weren't about to be robbed - the guys were just hawking for their competing snake restaurants. One of them escorted us to his establishment where we were ushered upstairs into an empty dinning room. Before we had even sat down a man appeared holding a sack, with something writhing inside...<br /><center><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R2tKWAyLogI/AAAAAAAABZQ/IiL8DbfA74I/s1600-h/IMG_6606.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R2tKWAyLogI/AAAAAAAABZQ/IiL8DbfA74I/s320/IMG_6606.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5146288741228978690" border="0" /></a><br />Our snake emerges from it's sack. It was very pissed off, as you would be in the circumstances.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R2tKMAyLofI/AAAAAAAABZI/6vFRQ958uUQ/s1600-h/IMG_6610.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R2tKMAyLofI/AAAAAAAABZI/6vFRQ958uUQ/s320/IMG_6610.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5146288569430286834" border="0" /></a><br />The creepy-looking proprietor with the long fingernails slits the snake's throat - insomuch as a snake isn't just one long throat. He drains the blood into glasses and the snake hisses its last as he cuts out the heart.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R2tKAAyLoeI/AAAAAAAABZA/iCJXoOmlCec/s1600-h/IMG_6614.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R2tKAAyLoeI/AAAAAAAABZA/iCJXoOmlCec/s320/IMG_6614.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5146288363271856610" border="0" /></a><br />We began the meal with a snake blood and snake wine mixer, garnished with the heart which was still pumping away. Snake wine is made from rice vodka that has been marinading a dead snake. Bottoms up!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R2tJsgyLocI/AAAAAAAABYw/UOHPn0mZYug/s1600-h/IMG_6623.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R2tJsgyLocI/AAAAAAAABYw/UOHPn0mZYug/s320/IMG_6623.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5146288028264407490" border="0" /></a><br />Mmmm, the snake heart slipped down so easily! I felt the snakepower begin to surge through my body!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R2tJ2QyLodI/AAAAAAAABY4/qYNU3mh1_DA/s1600-h/IMG_6621.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R2tJ2QyLodI/AAAAAAAABY4/qYNU3mh1_DA/s320/IMG_6621.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5146288195768132050" border="0" /></a><br />Further courses included (starting clockwise from the bottom) snake gruel, grilled snake, sautéed snake, sautéed snake bits with citronella, soft fried snake skin and snake rolls. There was an accompaniment of snake fried rice, snake soup and crackers. There's a theme. Have you guessed what it is?<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R2tJjwyLobI/AAAAAAAABYo/MBNzw6n8qtA/s1600-h/IMG_6628.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R2tJjwyLobI/AAAAAAAABYo/MBNzw6n8qtA/s320/IMG_6628.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5146287877940552114" border="0" /></a><br />A very simple bill. Snackes, hear and beer. The perfect meal.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R2tJcgyLoaI/AAAAAAAABYg/_HEEGSnn-F0/s1600-h/IMG_6629.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R2tJcgyLoaI/AAAAAAAABYg/_HEEGSnn-F0/s320/IMG_6629.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5146287753386500514" border="0" /></a><br />A big vat of snake wine. I'm glad my Mum and Dad stuck to crabapple wine in our airing cupboard at home.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R2tJTQyLoZI/AAAAAAAABYY/1hLOc1tBCrI/s1600-h/IMG_6635.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R2tJTQyLoZI/AAAAAAAABYY/1hLOc1tBCrI/s320/IMG_6635.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5146287594472710546" border="0" /></a><br />This is where the poor little blighters live before the tasteless tourists and crazy locals turn up. I'll take the lively chap in hutch number 5 please!<br /></center>Mattnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3714802289304562035.post-77805233326442016262007-12-19T20:55:00.000-08:002008-04-14T11:51:55.923-07:00Halong BayThree hours outside Hanoi in the Gulf of Tonkin lies spectacular Halong Bay, which looks exactly like Scaramanger's Island from The Man With the Golden Gun. Halong Bay has many more islands than the Bond location in Thailand (over 1500) but none were fitted with a Solex powered laser and sadly none were inhabited by Agent Goodnight.<br /><center><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R2oJkQyLoYI/AAAAAAAABYQ/3RMJWsida64/s1600-h/IMG_6383.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R2oJkQyLoYI/AAAAAAAABYQ/3RMJWsida64/s320/IMG_6383.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5145936042809598338" border="0" /></a><br />Halong Bay is home to several floating villages. The villagers live by fishing and from fish farms built under their floating houses. They move the entire village to a protected location if there is a storm or typhoon.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R2oJZgyLoXI/AAAAAAAABYI/LHXu_KaXZmw/s1600-h/IMG_6387.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R2oJZgyLoXI/AAAAAAAABYI/LHXu_KaXZmw/s320/IMG_6387.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5145935858126004594" border="0" /></a><br />Starting them early. Watch out Henley Regatta!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R2oJRwyLoWI/AAAAAAAABYA/W9eUnU6TqOE/s1600-h/IMG_6407.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R2oJRwyLoWI/AAAAAAAABYA/W9eUnU6TqOE/s320/IMG_6407.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5145935724982018402" border="0" /></a><br />What a lot of old junk(s)!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R2oJKgyLoVI/AAAAAAAABX4/WfeYPg9v01s/s1600-h/IMG_6411.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R2oJKgyLoVI/AAAAAAAABX4/WfeYPg9v01s/s320/IMG_6411.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5145935600427966802" border="0" /></a><br />All commerce is carried out afloat. A floating tuck shop visits our junk.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R2oJBAyLoUI/AAAAAAAABXw/BjRyewZYcWE/s1600-h/IMG_6450.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R2oJBAyLoUI/AAAAAAAABXw/BjRyewZYcWE/s320/IMG_6450.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5145935437219209538" border="0" /></a><br />It was very hazy in the Bay but soon winter will bring think fog and mist and almost zero visibility.<br /></center>Mattnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3714802289304562035.post-85987645711585314902007-12-19T08:30:00.000-08:002008-04-14T11:51:55.925-07:00CyclusionI'm done with cycling! I finished on the central Viet coast in a little nowhere town called Quang Ngai, with a round 1000 miles having rolled beneath the wheels. The bike and I traveled on separate trains north to Hanoi, me in AC soft sleeper, she in the luggage car of a local train. It took 24 hours of chugging north to reach Hanoi, capital of Vietnam where I have a week of saddle-free time before heading home.<br /><br />Here's a map of the complete overland route. <span style="color:#ff0000;">Biking is in red</span>, <span style="color:#3333ff;">trains in blue</span>, <span style="color:#6600cc;">bus in purple</span> and <span style="color:#cc9933;">boat in yellow</span>.<br /><br /><iframe width="435" height="350" frameborder="0" scrolling="no" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" src="http://maps.google.com/maps/ms?ie=UTF8&hl=en&t=p&om=1&s=AARTsJoKFrfp6fwAWaLY8Zgh5_O7owvTrA&msa=0&msid=105330377574160959832.0004419ae9b028c0cd9e5&ll=14.455958,104.743652&spn=7.44206,9.558105&z=6&output=embed"></iframe><br /><small><a href="http://maps.google.com/maps/ms?ie=UTF8&hl=en&t=p&om=1&msa=0&msid=105330377574160959832.0004419ae9b028c0cd9e5&ll=14.455958,104.743652&spn=7.44206,9.558105&z=6&source=embed" style="color:#0000FF;text-align:left">View Larger Map</a></small>Mattnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3714802289304562035.post-72115578161892475872007-12-14T07:11:00.000-08:002008-04-14T11:51:55.926-07:00Central VietnamIt's been wonderful cycling weather in Cambodia and Laos - the cool season is warm and dry with enough breeze to make it comfortable for long stretches in the saddle. All that changed as soon as I crossed into Vietnam which has only two seasons - summer monsoon and winter monsoon. My first full day in Vietnam comprised 11 hours cycling through drizzle and pouring rain. Memorable certainly. Some parts were even fun. I made a sorry sight standing in various hotel lobbies in Hué trying to find a room for the night.<br /><br />There's a whole load of stuff to see in central, coastal Vietnam. Here are some highlights.<br /><center><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R2KQOwyLoHI/AAAAAAAABWc/-g-QTLeHAPo/s1600-h/IMG_6116.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R2KQOwyLoHI/AAAAAAAABWc/-g-QTLeHAPo/s320/IMG_6116.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5143832307698475122" border="0" /></a><br />I interrupted some kids larking around riding water buffalo on the road between Hué and Da Nang. They didn't seem to mind.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R2KQCwyLoGI/AAAAAAAABWU/0VtFr9LVprk/s1600-h/IMG_6096.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R2KQCwyLoGI/AAAAAAAABWU/0VtFr9LVprk/s320/IMG_6096.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5143832101540044898" border="0" /></a><br />I never discovered if this guy found anyone else to brush-joust with in Hué.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R2KPnQyLoFI/AAAAAAAABWM/XW8_JXvbG14/s1600-h/IMG_6065.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R2KPnQyLoFI/AAAAAAAABWM/XW8_JXvbG14/s320/IMG_6065.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5143831629093642322" border="0" /></a><br />Ever wonder where <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Red_telephone_box">Sir Giles Gilbert Scott</a> got his inspiration from? Inside the citadel at Hué.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R2KPCgyLoEI/AAAAAAAABWE/gBPAkE_2cx0/s1600-h/IMG_6134.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R2KPCgyLoEI/AAAAAAAABWE/gBPAkE_2cx0/s320/IMG_6134.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5143830997733449794" border="0" /></a><br />Self portrait on the long, winding pass between Hué and Da Nang.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R2KS0QyLoII/AAAAAAAABWk/2OqxFK4zbPQ/s1600-h/IMG_6136.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R2KS0QyLoII/AAAAAAAABWk/2OqxFK4zbPQ/s320/IMG_6136.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5143835150966825090" border="0" /></a><br />And down the other side of the pass. I hoped this wasn't advance commentary on my downhill cycling.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R2KN0AyLoCI/AAAAAAAABV0/otLPwK25604/s1600-h/IMG_6147.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R2KN0AyLoCI/AAAAAAAABV0/otLPwK25604/s320/IMG_6147.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5143829649113718818" border="0" /></a><br />This sprightly, cheerful old crone showed me around several shrines at the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Marble_Mountains_%28Vietnam%29">Marble Mountains</a>. She was delightful.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R2KNawyLoBI/AAAAAAAABVs/HtSXITtrlKE/s1600-h/IMG_6167.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R2KNawyLoBI/AAAAAAAABVs/HtSXITtrlKE/s320/IMG_6167.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5143829215322021906" border="0" /></a><br />This enormous cave in the Marble Mountains housed several shrines. It was deserted and amazingly atmospheric.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R2KXaQyLoNI/AAAAAAAABXM/CT2QZh3gCLY/s1600-h/IMG_6207.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R2KXaQyLoNI/AAAAAAAABXM/CT2QZh3gCLY/s320/IMG_6207.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5143840201848365266" /></a><br />Hoi An is a beautiful place. Under a similar agreement to that which saved Oxford, Cambridge and Heidelberg during the Second World War, both sides spared Ho An in the American (Vietnam) War. It is a fabulously scenic place left just as it was in colonial times. There are few buildings more than 40 years old in the rest of Vietnam.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R2KXKAyLoMI/AAAAAAAABXE/cxtvxC8zAcM/s1600-h/IMG_6210.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R2KXKAyLoMI/AAAAAAAABXE/cxtvxC8zAcM/s320/IMG_6210.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5143839922675491010" /></a><br />Hoi Anne harbour at sunset.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R2KYCwyLoOI/AAAAAAAABXU/63Q4Fh44GcE/s1600-h/IMG_6200.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R2KYCwyLoOI/AAAAAAAABXU/63Q4Fh44GcE/s320/IMG_6200.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5143840897633067234" /></a><br />I decided to get my expedition beard shaved off and a haircut in Hoi An, since the cycling was coming to an end soon. Against my better judgment I was lured into this scarecut establishment by the silky, English phrases of the girls working there - "You! Haircut!" etc. A proper shave is usually a great value treat in developing countries, but this experience reinforced one of my traveling maxims - always get a dude to do the shaving. My nerve broke and I left this place still with half a moustache.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R2KWzwyLoLI/AAAAAAAABW8/bkgtscv3lEw/s1600-h/IMG_6225.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R2KWzwyLoLI/AAAAAAAABW8/bkgtscv3lEw/s320/IMG_6225.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5143839540423401650" /></a><br />What's goin' on 'ear then? I've no eyed ear. Surgical earwax removal at a barbershop in Hoi An.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R2KWAgyLoKI/AAAAAAAABW0/EXkxhEubPp8/s1600-h/IMG_6317.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R2KWAgyLoKI/AAAAAAAABW0/EXkxhEubPp8/s320/IMG_6317.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5143838659955105954" border="0" /></a><br />Cycling though the countryside is lovely, particularly on the quiet back roads. The paddy fields make a wonderful vista but rice cultivation never seems anything less than backbreaking, muddy work. There's little mechanisation to rice production in Vietnam.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R2KVwwyLoJI/AAAAAAAABWs/IUgbTp6YYWM/s1600-h/IMG_6314.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R2KVwwyLoJI/AAAAAAAABWs/IUgbTp6YYWM/s320/IMG_6314.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5143838389372166290" border="0" /></a><br />Ca-phe Phin is the drink of choice for the long distance cyclist in Vietnam. Super-strength coffee is very slowly percolated onto condensed milk (see glass on the left). Ice (da) is added for a refreshing cold drink that gives you a double sugar and caffeine rush. Like Red Bull only tastier and prettier.<br /></center>Mattnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3714802289304562035.post-91327595256002629962007-12-09T21:10:00.000-08:002008-04-14T11:51:55.928-07:00The Ho Chi Minh TrailFor a couple of days my cycle route followed parts of the Ho Chi Minh trail through Laos and Vietnam. The HCMT was the supply route that was used by North Vietnamese forces in what is known here as the American War. The countryside is mountainous and covered in dense forest and jungle. Dropping from one valley and climbing into another it was easy to see why the traffic along the multitude of trails proved impossible to stop.<br /><br />I passed a series of former American military bases along what was once the DMZ, including Khe Sanh, site of the fiercest battle of the entire war. There's nothing much there now except some rusting helicopters and the old landing strip, on which nothing will grow. There's also a small museum full of propaganda which leaves you with the false impression that the North Vietnamese scored a famous victory. Pictures of smiling North Vietnamese girls carrying boxes of supplies are contrasted with photos of American soldiers "showing their terror" during the battle.<br /><br />An American soldier apparently once said that "you could lose Khe Sanh and you'd really lost nothing at all". Standing in the drizzle in the mountains and jungle in middle of nowhere, I couldn't agree more.<br /><center><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R1zBD9ql6uI/AAAAAAAABU8/Ns7lj1XpLMg/s1600-h/IMG_6016.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R1zBD9ql6uI/AAAAAAAABU8/Ns7lj1XpLMg/s320/IMG_6016.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5142197148387240674" border="0" /></a><br />There are still thousands of tons of unexploded ordinance 'UXO' all over Laos, Cambodia and Vietnam. These signs are common in Vietnam and Laos. In Cambodia, people missing limbs are common.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R1zCs9ql6wI/AAAAAAAABVM/RLTKvbWSjGc/s1600-h/IMG_5999.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R1zCs9ql6wI/AAAAAAAABVM/RLTKvbWSjGc/s320/IMG_5999.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5142198952273505026" border="0" /></a><br />This US tank is all that's left of a whole valley of destroyed and abandoned equipment near Ban Dong in Laos. It was part of an unsuccesful raid on the HCMT by South Vietnamese forces.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R1zBZ9ql6vI/AAAAAAAABVE/FswFtyyDPfU/s1600-h/IMG_6013.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R1zBZ9ql6vI/AAAAAAAABVE/FswFtyyDPfU/s320/IMG_6013.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5142197526344362738" border="0" /></a><br />A smashed Chinook slowly rusts at Khe Sanh.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R1zDfNql6zI/AAAAAAAABVk/A4eBrAr1-Qc/s1600-h/IMG_5951.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R1zDfNql6zI/AAAAAAAABVk/A4eBrAr1-Qc/s320/IMG_5951.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5142199815561931570" border="0" /></a><br />It's not all doom and gloom in the border area. In fact, if you didn't know any better, you'd think that Lao and Cambodians had been living in a peaceful, innocent idyll for the last few decades, always smiling and laughing. As I ride past, kids come running out of the stilt houses every few hundred yards and shout "sabadee!" and "goodbye!" (sometimes even "hello!"). It makes for constant entertainment.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R1zDJNql6yI/AAAAAAAABVc/alpRI-hXohw/s1600-h/IMG_5952.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R1zDJNql6yI/AAAAAAAABVc/alpRI-hXohw/s320/IMG_5952.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5142199437604809506" border="0" /></a><br />Sunset approaching the Viet border from Laos on route 9.<br /></center>Mattnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3714802289304562035.post-68059247060918345822007-12-07T02:39:00.000-08:002008-04-14T11:51:55.929-07:00Hostage to HospitalitySavannaket is the kind of place it's great to travel to. There's nothing really to 'see' but it's a perfect town to wander the quiet streets, chat to people and generally hang out. I decided to stay a couple of days as a break from the bike.<br /><br />For the second time in as many days I found myself hostage to Lao hospitality. Watching a game of petang I was soon adopted by Dr Two, a surgeon from the local hospital, and we began an all day petang-watching fest of drinking and eating. We started with rice whiskey spiced up with goat gonads and moved on to eat the 'nads themselves. As a result I am assured I will become a "very strong man".<br /><br />We traveled across town from one petang venue to another, finishing at the 'stadium' for an all day knockout competition. Petang seems to be identical to French boule, but I'm no expert. The guys in Savannaket certainly were though, and the competition was enthralling. My team pick from the first round was defeated in the final, an absorbing game. It was all toped off with much Beerlao and backslapping. An unexpected and great day.<br /><center><br /><a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R1kso9ql6tI/AAAAAAAABU0/KjRDbVsJ9ZE/s1600-h/IMG_5945.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5141189531879729874" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R1kso9ql6tI/AAAAAAAABU0/KjRDbVsJ9ZE/s320/IMG_5945.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />Kids on the street outside the local Wat. This is about as busy as it gets in Savannaket.<br /><br /><a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R1kscNql6sI/AAAAAAAABUs/zYRmXRedzYc/s1600-h/IMG_5937.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5141189312836397762" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R1kscNql6sI/AAAAAAAABUs/zYRmXRedzYc/s320/IMG_5937.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />The town has a blend of dilapidated French colonial architecture and Laos laid-back-ness that is common to Laos - and Cambodia.<br /><br /><a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R1kr59ql6pI/AAAAAAAABUU/z8MYpncGaZU/s1600-h/IMG_5837.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5141188724425878162" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R1kr59ql6pI/AAAAAAAABUU/z8MYpncGaZU/s320/IMG_5837.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />Dr Two and the author. He doesn't look all that pleased in this picture but he soon picked up after a few glasses of goat whiskey and Beerlao.<br /><br /><a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R1kru9ql6oI/AAAAAAAABUM/clvusECTaBg/s1600-h/IMG_5833.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5141188535447317122" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R1kru9ql6oI/AAAAAAAABUM/clvusECTaBg/s320/IMG_5833.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />There was much discussion, advice and measurement on the field, here at our first petang venue behind the bus shelter.<br /><br /><a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R1ksEtql6qI/AAAAAAAABUc/5uUcsxRGTzI/s1600-h/IMG_5860.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5141188909109471906" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R1ksEtql6qI/AAAAAAAABUc/5uUcsxRGTzI/s320/IMG_5860.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />It was Lao National Day and so there were spectators aplenty wherever we went.<br /><br /><a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R1ksPNql6rI/AAAAAAAABUk/m-nst2qLe74/s1600-h/IMG_5919.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5141189089498098354" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R1ksPNql6rI/AAAAAAAABUk/m-nst2qLe74/s320/IMG_5919.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />The final was played under floodlights at the local 'stadium'. The dude in the blue shirt is a virtuoso and now town champion. Destined for the national team I was told, and after watching his game I can believe it.<br /></center>Mattnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3714802289304562035.post-56552251203618569062007-11-28T18:08:00.000-08:002008-04-14T11:51:55.931-07:00Up the Mekong, in Search of Colonel KurtzThe Bike and I chartered a boat up the Mekong, headed out of Cambodia and into Laos. Kurtz was somewhere upriver. We were joined by East and West Germans, a Czech Buddhist and a guy from Limerick. It was a rag-tag bunch, but we were confident we could get the job done.<br /><br />Motoring against the flow of the Mekong, we felt gooks eyeing us from everywhere. We saw them sometimes, but their clever deception of smiling, waving and fishing didn't fool us. We stayed frosty.<br /><br />When we find Kurtz, I can only begin to imagine his state of his mind. I've begun talking to myself and sometimes I wonder about The Bike's opinion on matters. When The Bike answers me, I know someone will be headed up river - this time looking for me.<br /><center><br /><a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R067z5SVDuI/AAAAAAAABS8/d7Pu43clis4/s1600-h/IMG_5757.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R067z5SVDuI/AAAAAAAABS8/d7Pu43clis4/s320/IMG_5757.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5138250725101735650" /></a><br />I carry The Bike onto our ride upriver. "I'm done for! Save yourself!" cries The Bike. "No way I'm leaving you brother!" I growl back.<br /><br /><a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R068HJSVDvI/AAAAAAAABTE/OKNqPUXRQ0A/s1600-h/IMG_5766.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R068HJSVDvI/AAAAAAAABTE/OKNqPUXRQ0A/s320/IMG_5766.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5138251055814217458" /></a><br />The Bike and I stay frosty and alert for enemy activity.<br /><br /><a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R0687pSVDwI/AAAAAAAABTM/3yIjiGgmEV0/s1600-h/IMG_5782.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R0687pSVDwI/AAAAAAAABTM/3yIjiGgmEV0/s320/IMG_5782.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5138251957757349634" /></a><br />We spot a long-tailed rocket boat, but they don't bother us none.<br /><br /><a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R069M5SVDxI/AAAAAAAABTU/oFFU8FAH794/s1600-h/IMG_5788.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R069M5SVDxI/AAAAAAAABTU/oFFU8FAH794/s320/IMG_5788.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5138252254110093074" /></a><br />The team disembarks at the Lao border.<br /><br /><a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R06_9JSVDyI/AAAAAAAABTc/rS5I2tfQEiQ/s1600-h/mekong.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R06_9JSVDyI/AAAAAAAABTc/rS5I2tfQEiQ/s320/mekong.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5138255282062036770" /></a><br />Meet the mighty Mekong.<br /><br /><a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R07AL5SVDzI/AAAAAAAABTk/RgBCfFakynQ/s1600-h/IMG_5791.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R07AL5SVDzI/AAAAAAAABTk/RgBCfFakynQ/s320/IMG_5791.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5138255535465107250" /></a><br />We make it across the heavily fortified border. Luckily I spotted the garrote just in time.<br /></center><br /><span style="font-size:small">This post pays homage to <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Apocalypse_Now">Mr FFC</a>.Mattnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3714802289304562035.post-77293822140051695892007-11-25T21:03:00.000-08:002008-04-14T11:51:55.932-07:00Phenom-enal Water FestivalThe Phenom Penh Water Festival takes place over 3 days and is the biggest weekend in Cambodia. Millions descend on the capital to watch almost 500 boats compete in non-stop racing on the Tonle Sap river. There are several different designs of boat but the most common contain around 60 blokes paddling furiously, meaning that tens of thousands were participating in the event.<br /><center><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R0pe85SVDnI/AAAAAAAABSc/kATOKArNmPc/s1600-h/IMG_5434.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5137022725232332402" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R0pe85SVDnI/AAAAAAAABSc/kATOKArNmPc/s320/IMG_5434.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />Two boats race in the fast-flowing center of the river, while finishers make their way along the banks back toward the start.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R0pdw5SVDmI/AAAAAAAABSU/8yA9iM7HOmQ/s1600-h/IMG_5646.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5137021419562274402" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R0pdw5SVDmI/AAAAAAAABSU/8yA9iM7HOmQ/s320/IMG_5646.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />At the start line dozens of boats jockey for position while they await their turn to race. There was much whistling and hand waiving, but everyone seemed to know what was going on (except me).<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R0pdYpSVDlI/AAAAAAAABSM/2zPFj4JNlvM/s1600-h/IMG_5653.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5137021002950446674" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R0pdYpSVDlI/AAAAAAAABSM/2zPFj4JNlvM/s320/IMG_5653.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />The chain-smoking leprechaun in the bow keeps time for the rowers...<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R0pc9ZSVDkI/AAAAAAAABSE/CkQ57niF_7I/s1600-h/IMG_5663.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5137020534799011394" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R0pc9ZSVDkI/AAAAAAAABSE/CkQ57niF_7I/s320/IMG_5663.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />.. while several chaps at the back with longer paddles steer the boat. You can see offerings in the bow - I think to appease the spirits.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R0pcmJSVDjI/AAAAAAAABR8/u5Dd51MUOY8/s1600-h/IMG_5672.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5137020135367052850" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R0pcmJSVDjI/AAAAAAAABR8/u5Dd51MUOY8/s320/IMG_5672.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />Waiting for your race slot is an exhausting business.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R0pbdpSVDhI/AAAAAAAABRs/Ij8vkZQsnfg/s1600-h/IMG_5703.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5137018889826536978" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R0pbdpSVDhI/AAAAAAAABRs/Ij8vkZQsnfg/s320/IMG_5703.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />Each day was topped off with fireworks and barges with huge light displays which paraded up and down the river.<br /></center>Mattnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3714802289304562035.post-85526302639722014112007-11-24T22:30:00.000-08:002008-04-14T11:51:55.933-07:00Gun Phun in Phenom PehnWhat do you get if you cross tourist dollars with Cambodian commandos who have too much time on their hands and a base full of guns and ammo? A whole load of gun totting fun!<br /><center><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R0kd6pSVDeI/AAAAAAAABRg/Pv6DLiqA7ww/s1600-h/IMG_5468.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R0kd6pSVDeI/AAAAAAAABRg/Pv6DLiqA7ww/s320/IMG_5468.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5136669743345110498" border="0" /></a><br />Ice Cube's favourite - <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ak47">AK 47, assault rifle</a>. The safest place to be while I was shooting was directly behind the target. With a full clip of 30 shells on full-auto I managed to only wing the target twice :-S<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R0kcqJSVDcI/AAAAAAAABRQ/8HYduZdINfw/s1600-h/IMG_5531.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R0kcqJSVDcI/AAAAAAAABRQ/8HYduZdINfw/s320/IMG_5531.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5136668360365641154" border="0" /></a><br />This tripod mounted <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/M1919_Browning_machine_gun">M19</a> was a lot of fun, but not as much as the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Degtyarev_light_machine_gun">Degtyaryov light machine gun</a> I also tried, which had tracer shells too.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R0kb65SVDbI/AAAAAAAABRI/dgN1C8DhOuw/s1600-h/IMG_5533.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R0kb65SVDbI/AAAAAAAABRI/dgN1C8DhOuw/s320/IMG_5533.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5136667548616822194" border="0" /></a><br />My 30 dollar grenade which I got to toss in a water-filled ditch. Die frogs and other insurgent pond life!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R0kbhpSVDaI/AAAAAAAABRA/QqIkDWVGMBQ/s1600-h/IMG_5556.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R0kbhpSVDaI/AAAAAAAABRA/QqIkDWVGMBQ/s320/IMG_5556.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5136667114825125282" border="0" /></a><br />Our commando hosts were lovely, family chaps who's kids chipped in by setting and retrieving targets (they were small and much harder to hit).<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R0kbMJSVDZI/AAAAAAAABQ4/sVq10bH-ikg/s1600-h/IMG_5559.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R0kbMJSVDZI/AAAAAAAABQ4/sVq10bH-ikg/s320/IMG_5559.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5136666745457937810" border="0" /></a><br />Don't touch gun!<br />Very me, don't you think? Sadly, posing only since they were out of ammo for this <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/M16_rifle">M16</a> with under slung grenade launcher.<br /></center>Mattnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3714802289304562035.post-60614599090813945842007-11-22T01:46:00.000-08:002008-04-14T11:51:55.934-07:00Cambodian RivieraThe flight from Bangkok to Phenom Penh was considerably quicker that my previous trip out, and a lot less effort. The 5 days it had taken by train and bike were swallowed up in 75 minutes. So the plane takes about 10 minutes to cover a day of cycling. I must remember to fit that saddle mounted turbofan next time.<br /><br />I switched one Matt power for a handful of horse power and headed down to the south coast to kill a couple of days before the Phenom Penh Water Festival. The towns of Kampot and Kep used to be the place to hang out for well-to-do Cambodians before the war and Khmer Rouge regime. The place is full of dilapidated French colonial buildings and abandoned villas. Very atmospheric and picturesque. Things are visibly picking up however and I'm sure you'll see it in the Thompsons Holidays brochure very soon.<br /><center><br /><a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R0VW8ZSVDUI/AAAAAAAABQM/uWVPvIwuj5A/s1600-h/IMG_5157.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R0VW8ZSVDUI/AAAAAAAABQM/uWVPvIwuj5A/s320/IMG_5157.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5135606545665822018" /></a><br />Downtown Kampot with its French colonial charm. Kids are everywhere. The <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cambodia#Demographics">majority of the Cambodian population is under 25</a>.<br /><br /><a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R0VYyZSVDVI/AAAAAAAABQU/bvUXlRPv7fM/s1600-h/IMG_5223.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R0VYyZSVDVI/AAAAAAAABQU/bvUXlRPv7fM/s320/IMG_5223.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5135608572890385746" /></a><br />Volleyball is a popular street game, something Cambodia shares with Nepal.<br /><br /><a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R0VaRpSVDWI/AAAAAAAABQc/WE3qGv4fZ1Q/s1600-h/IMG_5373.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R0VaRpSVDWI/AAAAAAAABQc/WE3qGv4fZ1Q/s320/IMG_5373.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5135610209272925538" /></a><br />Quite a crowd gathered for the game, with players and spectators serviced by noodle sellers.<br /><br /><a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R0Vb0ZSVDXI/AAAAAAAABQk/RSwUbPO3a4M/s1600-h/IMG_5392.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R0Vb0ZSVDXI/AAAAAAAABQk/RSwUbPO3a4M/s320/IMG_5392.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5135611905785007474" /></a><br />This abandoned villa in Kep is now home to squatters.<br /><br /><a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R0VcG5SVDYI/AAAAAAAABQs/Pg81zLnUdMc/s1600-h/IMG_5406.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R0VcG5SVDYI/AAAAAAAABQs/Pg81zLnUdMc/s320/IMG_5406.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5135612223612587394" /></a><br />Forget the car which runs on water, in Cambodia, my awesome little Honda ran on Pepsi! I hear diet is better for the environment.<br /></center>Mattnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3714802289304562035.post-75680308042479513932007-11-18T20:05:00.000-08:002008-04-14T11:51:55.936-07:00Back in BangkokAfter 500 km I reached Phenom Penh, the capital of Cambodia, of which more in another post. It was strange seeing Westerners again and as I cycled the busy streets looking for a guest house I felt a little sense of achievement at having got here under my own steam - so far I've not seen another Western cyclist on the roads of Cambodia.<br /><br />Soon after I arrived, I was off to the airport to fly back to Bangkok to see my buddy Moleskin Matt get married. What a fun and fascinating time! Moleskin met his wife Poom while he was working in Bangkok several years ago. He's quite the South East Asian connoisseur, speaking Thai and having completed several of his own cycle odysseys in Thailand, Laos and Vietnam. It was great to catch up with him and meet Poom, who is predictably as terrific as young Moleskin. A perfect match.<br /><br />The ceremony itself was the third of the week, following civil and Buddhist proceedings. It unfolded over several hours during which the number attending slowly swelled from a hundred to around 600 as family were joined by friends and finally business associates. It was fascinating and much fun and has been a perfect break from the bike for the weekend. Cheers to Poom and Matt!<br /><center><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R0ETEZSVDPI/AAAAAAAABPg/xLqMcFmIWD0/s1600-h/1.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R0ETEZSVDPI/AAAAAAAABPg/xLqMcFmIWD0/s320/1.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5134406016407244018" border="0" /></a><br />Poom and Moleskin spent most of the many hours of the ceremony kneeling and greeting everyone with hands pressed together in sawadee. This was the 'pouring of the water' part of the ceremony.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R0ET2pSVDSI/AAAAAAAABP4/QZFTwxrkjQc/s1600-h/4.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R0ET2pSVDSI/AAAAAAAABP4/QZFTwxrkjQc/s320/4.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5134406879695670562" border="0" /></a><br />On your knees boy! (as the KLF would have said, had they been invited).<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R0ETUJSVDRI/AAAAAAAABPw/F21DGpwoURw/s1600-h/3.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R0ETUJSVDRI/AAAAAAAABPw/F21DGpwoURw/s320/3.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5134406286990183698" border="0" /></a><br />This was the grand finale of speeches, toasting and over 600 guests.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R0ET-5SVDTI/AAAAAAAABQA/l6FBwvicGK0/s1600-h/5.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R0ET-5SVDTI/AAAAAAAABQA/l6FBwvicGK0/s320/5.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5134407021429591346" border="0" /></a><br />The cake has nine layers, for luck. The 18th was similarly a most auspicious day on which to be married.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R0ETLpSVDQI/AAAAAAAABPo/nFEDu0zKojA/s1600-h/2.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/R0ETLpSVDQI/AAAAAAAABPo/nFEDu0zKojA/s320/2.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5134406140961295618" border="0" /></a><br />It was a very grand and spectacular occasion with ice sculptures and everything!<br /></center>Mattnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3714802289304562035.post-5116633872129150142007-11-12T03:50:00.000-08:002008-04-14T11:51:55.937-07:00Ankor. Wat on Earth?!So it turns out the road from hell leads to somewhere close to heaven. The <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Angkor">temples of Ankor</a>, just outside Siem Reap, are something indeed. There are dozens of enormous, spectacular and diverse temples scattered throughout the countryside of jungles and paddy fields. The jungle has invaded them all but has been removed from only some. For the others, it has become an integral part, both binding the stones and splitting them apart, and only adding to the spectacle and atmosphere.<br /><center><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/Rzg-dLVNBnI/AAAAAAAABN0/QTA5l0SNlvU/s1600-h/IMG_4677.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/Rzg-dLVNBnI/AAAAAAAABN0/QTA5l0SNlvU/s320/IMG_4677.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5131920446367532658" /></a><br />The temple of <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Angkor_Wat">Ankor Wa</a>t is the headline act and certainly an awesome spectacle. Up close it amazes with endless intricate stone carving and detail.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/RzhApLVNBoI/AAAAAAAABN8/8RggYeofIKw/s1600-h/IMG_4740.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/RzhApLVNBoI/AAAAAAAABN8/8RggYeofIKw/s320/IMG_4740.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5131922851549218434" /></a><br /><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bayon">The Bayon</a> is adorned with hundreds of images of the Buddha which double as portraits of the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jayavarman_VII">commissioning Ankorian king</a>. The temples are a mix of Buddhist and Hindu, sometimes both at once, as the Ankor civilization oscillated between the religions.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/RzhA-7VNBpI/AAAAAAAABOE/g6PafV3PQMw/s1600-h/IMG_4794.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/RzhA-7VNBpI/AAAAAAAABOE/g6PafV3PQMw/s320/IMG_4794.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5131923225211373202" /></a><br />There are many working temples inside and amongst the ancient sites where monks are busy having fun as only Buddhist monks do.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/RzhBdLVNBqI/AAAAAAAABOM/Z4usR64MGmQ/s1600-h/IMG_4842.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/RzhBdLVNBqI/AAAAAAAABOM/Z4usR64MGmQ/s320/IMG_4842.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5131923744902416034" /></a><br /><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ta_Prohm">Ta Prohm</a> has been completely overrun by the jungle which has a permanent grip on the temple. It makes for an atmosphere of pure Tomb Raider, unsurprising since scenes from the movie were shot here.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/RzhChbVNBrI/AAAAAAAABOU/L4mgBDrj8F4/s1600-h/IMG_4935.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/RzhChbVNBrI/AAAAAAAABOU/L4mgBDrj8F4/s320/IMG_4935.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5131924917428487858" /></a><br />My personal favorite, <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Preah_Khan">Preah Khan</a>, is pure Indiana Jones.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/RzhC_bVNBsI/AAAAAAAABOc/i9NotiJtLNw/s1600-h/IMG_4872.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/RzhC_bVNBsI/AAAAAAAABOc/i9NotiJtLNw/s320/IMG_4872.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5131925432824563394" /></a><br />By comparison, Pre Rup would seem to be pure Beastmaster (I'm thinking of the final scene on the temple steps where the bad guys are vanquished while the good guys lose only a male ferret in the battle. No ferrets were harmed in the taking of this photograph).<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/RzhDcrVNBtI/AAAAAAAABOk/qScw-Yynj0I/s1600-h/IMG_4923.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/RzhDcrVNBtI/AAAAAAAABOk/qScw-Yynj0I/s320/IMG_4923.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5131925935335737042" /></a><br />Preah Khan was very quiet and atmospheric. One of the few inhabitants was this girl with her pet - some kind of strange, nocturnal animal (answers on a postcard please). Stranger and stranger are the temples in the early evening.<br /></center>Mattnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3714802289304562035.post-21841944184564062022007-11-12T03:08:00.000-08:002008-04-14T11:51:55.938-07:00Into CambodiaI flew into Bangkok with my bike in a box in the hold. My vague plan is to cycle across Cambodia and Laos and into Vietnam. I've not planned much beyond the first week since I'm sure I'll do a better job of figuring it out as I learn more about the country the bike and me. I've already found out quite a bit. I'm flying solo on this trip while Mary stays at home for a few weeks.<br /><br />My first job was to get to the Cambodian border. I took the train to avoid the maze of traffic around Bangkok. It was then a simple 7km cycle from the station at Aranyaprathet to the border and a fairly straightforward visa process. Once inside Cambodia the fun began.<br /><br />The road from Poipet to Siem Reap, my first major destination, was pure hell. Stones and bugs peppered windshields but all I had was teeth and Raybans. Holes, sand, stones, mud and dust made the going very slow. Above all other trials was the dust, which gets everywhere - in your lungs, in your teeth, in the bike, in your gear. I ended each day with my clothes, skin, and bike the same color as the locals. All the color of Cambodian dust. <br /><center><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/Rzg2w7VNBjI/AAAAAAAABNU/uRiBGif8Qqo/s1600-h/IMG_4517.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/Rzg2w7VNBjI/AAAAAAAABNU/uRiBGif8Qqo/s320/IMG_4517.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5131911989576926770" /></a><br />On the train from Bangkok, approaching the Cambodian border.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/Rzg3tbVNBkI/AAAAAAAABNc/HLam4OXF-jo/s1600-h/IMG_4565.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/Rzg3tbVNBkI/AAAAAAAABNc/HLam4OXF-jo/s320/IMG_4565.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5131913028959012418" /></a><br />My first portrait of the bike. Not quite the same subject appeal as Mary I'll admit, but she does have lovely lines of her own, and 27 speeds.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/Rzg357VNBlI/AAAAAAAABNk/XxNvAwsrt9E/s1600-h/IMG_4541.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/Rzg357VNBlI/AAAAAAAABNk/XxNvAwsrt9E/s320/IMG_4541.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5131913243707377234" /></a><br />In my international league of photo-enthusiasm - where the shy Tibetans are the yardstick of reticence - Cambodia makes it's entry straight in at the number one spot with a bullet, beating India and Nepal into joint second place. These kids were absolutely beside themselves at seeing their picture on the camera screen. Although they lived beside the 'highway' the buses don't stop in their village and so I guess they'd perhaps never seen a digital camera. I hope the bike continues to work it's magic like this.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/Rzg4n7VNBmI/AAAAAAAABNs/8BBt7EAybrM/s1600-h/IMG_4582.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/Rzg4n7VNBmI/AAAAAAAABNs/8BBt7EAybrM/s320/IMG_4582.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5131914033981359714" /></a><br />150km of the dusty road from hell.<br /></center>Mattnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3714802289304562035.post-88903543392458476062007-11-02T19:00:00.000-07:002007-11-06T08:27:47.409-08:00Baja CaliforniaThe day after <a href="http://www.wendyandisaac.com">Wendy and Isaac got married</a>, we made a break for the Mexican border. We weren't fugitives from the law, but we drove like we were. Our destination was La Paz in Baja California and we covered over 1800 miles to get there.<br /><br />The Baja peninsular is everything you expect a desert to be: Sandy, *lots* of cacti and flocks of circling vultures. The only characters missing were Wile E. Coyote and that irritating Road Runner chap.<br /><br />The roads were long, windy, bad and stunning. Much fun to drive. They were also littered with all sorts of debris and road humps that looked exactly like the ones we'd encountered in India, and just as vicious. I wonder who exports to whom? Our little Audi, with its low suspension and Michelin Alpin snow tyres, was not entirely suited to the terrain and inevitably, we bent the suspension again - the third time. You might leave your heart in San Francisco, but you'll likely leave your transmission in Baja.<br /><center><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/RysIsbTAfqI/AAAAAAAABLs/TErUDGxv3a4/s1600-h/IMG_4419.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/RysIsbTAfqI/AAAAAAAABLs/TErUDGxv3a4/s320/IMG_4419.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5128202160026189474" /></a><br />The road was long, twisty and thin, and there were a great profusion of cacti.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/RysI_7TAfsI/AAAAAAAABL8/0TFJqvGMQSg/s1600-h/IMG_4457.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/RysI_7TAfsI/AAAAAAAABL8/0TFJqvGMQSg/s400/IMG_4457.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5128202495033638594" /></a><br />Baja peninsular is narrow, but surprisingly long. We drove over 3300 miles! - and only sailed 100 :-(<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/RysJI7TAftI/AAAAAAAABME/YtdcxWJ2w0Q/s1600-h/IMG_4487.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/RysJI7TAftI/AAAAAAAABME/YtdcxWJ2w0Q/s400/IMG_4487.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5128202649652461266" /></a><br />This big, hairy, inverted carrot is unique to Baja (no jokes about Mary please). Ciros grow only an inch each year and some are over 250 years old!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/RysJUbTAfuI/AAAAAAAABMM/wkbtrQdGsQk/s1600-h/IMG_4493.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/RysJUbTAfuI/AAAAAAAABMM/wkbtrQdGsQk/s400/IMG_4493.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5128202847220956898" /></a><br />There are many big-ass cacti in Baja.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/RysJgLTAfvI/AAAAAAAABMU/KWnNp_0r3_o/s1600-h/IMG_4498.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Fh-3_lyuAO0/RysJgLTAfvI/AAAAAAAABMU/KWnNp_0r3_o/s400/IMG_4498.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5128203049084419826" /></a><br />Military checkpoints abounded and we were stopped and searched many times. These wooden figures marked the approach to a checkpoint and were very disconcerting at night. I wonder if the soldiers make them during arts and crafts time in basic training? There's clearly an influence from South Park, although it's not clear if this is consciously acknowledged by the artist.<br /></center>Mattnoreply@blogger.com1