Author: Ben

Categories
Nepal

Everest Base Camp Trek

Which hike to do in Nepal…Everest Base Camp or the Annapurna Circuit? After careful research and introspection, my ego won. Everest Base Camp is bigger, more challenging, and known for the better views. Once I arrived in Kathmandu, I was surprised at myself when I followed a nice young tout who approached me in the Thamel, Kathmandu’s tourist and trekking center, into the office of Mosaic Adventures. I talked about the possibilities with Raj, the always smiling manager, said I would compare costs and check back in with him the next day.

Click here for full photo album.

After reading reviews and comparing costs I was convinced this was a reputable company and a good deal. Raj wrote me to say a couple was planning on leaving the following day and I could join. The camaraderie of joining others appealed to me. My new trekking pals were a charming couple that lived in London, Daniel, a gregarious Paramedic from the UK, and Anine, a sweet determined Physical Therapist from Norway. They were both very welcoming of their new third wheel, or gooseberry as they say in the UK (not to be confused with dingle berry).

Flight to Lukla

Lukla is the gateway to Everest as it’s the main commercial airport to serve trekkers in the region. The airport is listed as one of the top ten most dangerous airports in the world. The runway is damn short. Only small planes can manage that length of airstrip. It’s built at an angle so planes land going up hill, and they decelerate quickly.

The planes need to turn quickly at the end of the 1500 foot long strip or they face a collision with the mountain wall. Flights are often delayed or cancelled due to fog and wind. At least one or two planes crash a year going into Lukla. I would find out later that our guide had lost a fellow friend who also was a guide last year in a crash.

At Kathmandu Airport we faced a four-hour delay due to weather. We were lucky though, as no flights had gone out the previous three days because of weather. We nervously boarded the 16-seater twin otter plane and were off. The views of the mountain ranges from the plane were incredible, except for the fact I was on the wrong side. The guy across the aisle’s head was obscuring the whole window. The plane jittered side to side or up or down with every gust. The pilot and the control panel were in plain view, as the cockpit didn’t have a door. I was close enough to decipher the GPS that indicated where the mountains were. We had to avoid the red masses on the screen. Eeeeek!

Arrival

Still shaky, but grateful, from the plane ride, we were greeted by Hari, our young handsome Nepalese guide. We scuttled a few meters away from the airport, took in the breathtaking mountain views and felt the chill in the air. We sat down for breakfast and Hari offered us a porter and introduced us to a quiet small teenager named Chering Sherpa. His last name is Sherpa, and while not all porters are Sherpas, Sherpas are the most famous of the porters. The Sherpa people migrated to the Himalayan Mountains a few generations ago exiled from Tibet. Once very poor, they now are one of Nepal’s most prosperous people due to the influx of trekking money to the region.

We debated over breakfast whether we should carry our own packs or have Chering carry them. He looked tiny, not more than 120 lbs, yet he offered to carry up to 80lbs worth of stuff. It would cost us $50 dollars each for the entire twelve to fourteen day trip. I had porters on Kilimanjaro and knew the luxury of carrying only the essentials when struggling up hill. I was relieved when they agreed. A day into the trek we were so glad we did it, and the decision only seemed wiser and wiser as we moved up.

And We’re Off!

The beginning of the trek featured gorgeous pines with snow covered mountains peaking behind. We romped over several suspension bridges covered in prayer flags over the Dudh Kosi River. Along the way we passed porters carrying supplies up the mountains. The amount they could carry on their backs via their head strap harness system is mind-boggling.

It hurts your neck just to think about it. Our first day was a short two-hour walk and we arrived at our first teahouse.

Along the route to basecamp teahouses are scattered along the route, so there is no need to camp. A teahouse is a restaurant / guesthouse combo, the main feature of which is a wood fire oven or a yak poop fire oven in the middle of the common room to provide heat and heat water. This is the only source of heat in the teahouse. They also provide rooms with firm beds and shared, often frozen, toilets.

On our second day we got our first view of Everest, it was just a small triangle jutting behind a couple better looking peaks including the sexy Ama Dablan. The second day was actually one of the hardest with a steep lengthy incline and weak untrained legs. We struggled getting up. That’s where I first started to notice Barry, but more about Barry later. There were other trekkers on the same route and we got to become friends with, even sharing the warmth of yak poop fires together. There were a couple young Aussies named Calvin and Nick, who should have their own misadventure travel show (Nick’s blog) a really nice couple from Calgary Amy and Kevin, and we occasionally bumped into the pair of Aussie medicals students Dana and Matt.

At the end of the second day we got to Namche, the last bit of real civilization. It was a city carved into the mountain steps, an amphitheater of buildings cascading down.

This was the last chance for supplies, cheap chocolate, reliable Internet and a hot shower. This was where at 11,290ft we first felt the altitude. I was out of it, and my thinking was slightly impaired. Simple math in my head wasn’t so simple anymore. Luckily, I knew how altitude affected me from Kilimanjaro and knew I would be fine in the morning.

After another day acclimatizing in Namche (hiking up to a higher altitude and sleeping back down low) we were off to the village of Tengoboche, which included another few hours of rough uphill switchbacks. Once we got to the teahouse on top we gazed upon a picturesque Buddhist monastery, and had out first taste of the Himalayan winter cold. It started to snow and the winds on this exposed hill tore though the windows of the teahouse that night. I couldn’t ignore Barry anymore.

Meet Barry the Blister

After the second day, Barry was my constant companion on the trip. He started out as dime size blister on the back of my heel, but then grew to envelope what seemed my entire right foot. Barry was big, irritable and rubbed me the wrong way. At first I tried to treat him with duct tape, but during the second day I had discovered the duct tape rubbed off and the blister had popped. I could deal with the pain. It wasn’t usually more than a three or four out of ten, but it would sometimes cause a slight limp.

For a couple of days Dan and Anine had bandages and tape, and they nursed my wound. They only had limited supplies though, and I had eight more days of hike. An open wound wasn’t going to heel until after this trek. In the next village we arrived in, Dingboche, there were no proper medical supplies available in the single mountain store. After shooting ideas around the yak poop teahouse fire, Calvin came up with an idea, “Why not sanitary pads? Sanitary is in the name.” Brilliant. Absorbent. Tough. Delicate. They became my bandage under duct tape for the remaining week of the trip. Barry didn’t go away, but he did stay fresh, and I stayed confident.

Moving Right Along

The scenery and weather changed as we progressed up towards base camp. We soon were above the tree line and the landscapes became more surreal, foreign and spectacular.

We watched snow fall in the afternoon and evenings and trekked on snow-covered paths. The first days were filled with plenty of warm sunshine, but more and more our days were cloudy. The higher we got the more intense the wind blew, as we were more exposed. Sleep got more and more difficult as the weather got colder, even down to 0 degrees Fahrenheit, and the air got thinner. One would lie in bed trying to sleep with an accelerated heart rate. Dan likened one night’s attempt at sleep as an eight-hour panic attack. Spirits started to dip as well as people were getting sick, cold to the bone and tired from so many days hiking.

The High Point – Kala Pattar

Every step burned in my quads and required a full inhalation of oxygen. At eighteen thousand feet, breathing was labored and difficult. My heart rate felt like it was maxing out while taking a few slow steps up and resting. Determination, my ipod and the view that grew more impressive every step kept me going. That morning we had walked from the gross and cold village of Lobuche to Gorek Shep, the highest teahouse station before Everest Base Camp. At Gorek Shep most trekkers either head for the goal, Everest Base Camp, or the view, Kala Pattar. The morning was cloudy and we were worried we weren’t going to get views after all these days of walking. However, when we got to Gorek Shep, it cleared and we made the gamble the weather would hold out for the views.

Kala Pattar is a small viewpoint that sits amongst a 360-degree view of the Himalayas, including an impressive view of Everest. Surrounding this thin rock are dizzying sheer drops on two sides, which prompted me, exhausted and oxygen deprived, to crawl on all fours at its apex. After our guide Hari made it, I was the first of the group. A lone Frenchman was sitting on top that had passed us earlier. We took victory photos of each other and each munched on the best Snickers ever.

Then Daniel and Anine made it up. It was a beautiful half hour full of smiles, relief, joy and the most amazing mountain-view we had ever witnessed. Pictures and video can do the grandeur justice nor capture the awe we felt. We did it bitches!

Everest Base Camp

After returning to Gorek Shep our group was exhausted, cold and ready to go down the mountain after eight hard days of trekking. Others trekkers we had been sharing meals with along the way had decided to go to base camp when we had decided on Kala Pattar.  That afternoon we traded stories while warming up our exhausted bodies by the yak poop oven. Now we had the tough decision of whether or not to go to base camp in the morning. We had already been higher, and had seen better views, so what was the big deal? If we left earlier and started down the mountain we could stay at better accommodation further down, get out of high altitude quicker and be closer to a hot shower. Our friends said it was a five hour round trip hike, but basecamp itself during off season is little more than an etched rock covered in prayer flags.

After a friendly debate, we agreed that we wanted the right to say we had been to Everest Base Camp…no explanations, no white lies and if it wasn’t all that, then at least we earned the right to say that. Ugh. The next morning we woke up early to make the trek, in full thermals and winter gear. After a few hills we ascended to a thin ridge. From the ridge there were beautiful views of the ice and snow covered mountains to our west. We could hear and see avalanches in the distance. As we got closer to base camp we walked near the frozen river and some of the most beautiful and interesting ice formations I have ever seen. This alone was worth the trip. After about two hours we had made it. While it didn’t feel as special as Kala Pattar, it was special knowing that we were heading down after we took our pictures by this monumental landmark.

Coming Down

The way down was a quick three days. I even jogged for quick bits to keep up with Dan’s long legs. What surprised me the most was how new the terrain felt, even though it was an up and back route. I had suppressed the lengths of uphill out of my mind and was astounded at how much we had done. The first day down Dan was possessed, and we passed three lodging options in the interests of getting further down for more oxygen, better food and warmth. The first day down we started out for Everest base Camp at 7:30 am got back to Gorek Shep around 12:00pm. We then started down and got to our teahouse in Periche at 6:00 pm totally spent. We toasted with our friends over a Mt. Everest Whiskey. We all joked about racing to Namche the next day for showers before the water ran out as we hadn’t had one in a week. Once in Namche, I even broke my no meat rule on the mountain and had Spaghetti Bolognese after my glorious hot shower. I felt human again.

The next day I wasn’t so human anymore. I believe it was bad meat that had been sitting around, but others hadn’t been fazed. The last day was a tough six hour hike. I could not keep up with Dan and Anine. During lunch I felt totally spent. At lunch all of our groups decided to hike the last bit together, and I quickly fell behind. The sickness caught up with me and I was puking up lunch beside the trail with three hours left to hike. Hari caught up with me while I was puking. He stayed with me until the end while I suffered through sweating fits and pain from my blister. I walked back into Lukla limping and dazed, but I made it back relieved. After a tea I passed out.

I woke a few hours later to a whiskey party in our teahouse. It was 5:30pm and everyone was already getting tipsy. After a few bites of fried rice I managed a few sips of the Royal Stag, but was in no shape to down the amounts our party was celebrating with. A full on dance party ensued with our friends, guides and sherpas. It was joyous, festive and excessive. Whiskey was flowing freely, people fell over dancing and the same songs were played again and again from our guides’ phones via a speaker. All of us were happy to be off the mountain and hopefully going home the next day. We weren’t so lucky, however. We woke up at six am to get the early flight, but weather kept the airport quiet all day and we were stuck in Lukla until the next morning.

Everest Base Camp was an epic experience. I would recommend it to others who enjoy trekking, like the cold and are fit. Taking in the Himilayas from those heights feels like you’re on a different planet. The time we went, the end of the winter, was great. It was not too crowded on the mountain. That meant we had stunning views to ourselves, and intimate gatherings in the teahouses at night. It’s a walk back in time, as you get further away from civilization up the mountain.  You have the opportunity to feel totally disconnected from the modern world, which is really relaxing, and is harder and harder to find in the increasingly wired world. It wasn’t easy trekking, but the struggle made the awe-inspiring views up top that much sweeter.

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India

India Part 2: You Still Crazy

As I walked confidently through New Delhi Train Station after an overnight journey from Varanasi, the fifth rickshaw driver approached, “The airport express train doesn’t open until 7:00 AM. Get in the rickshaw.”

“Bullsh#t,” I replied. “It opens at 5:00 AM.” My logic didn’t phase his insistence, but I kept walking to the Metro stairs no longer scared of India. I had survived and thrived for a month.

Click here for India Pictures Part 1 and here for India Pictures Part 2.

After the initial classic small triangle of New Delhi, Agra (Taj Mahal), and Jaipur, I completed a bigger triangle of my own concoction. I traveled west through Rajasthan towards Jaisalmer, then went south to Mumbai via Udaipur, and finally ended on the third point of the triangle, Varanasi. The following are written snapshots of the different cities visited.

Varanasi

As I scooped the last of my apple banana chocolate lassi from the clay pot, I looked up to see a dead body wrapped in colorful cloth getting carried to the Ganges River down the narrow alley. Life and death live seamlessly in this holy city. More than once I called this place “crazy town,” as everything happens here all at once:  the dead ceremoniously set on fire, a riverside cricket game, a 3 year old pooping, a person bathing, a person washing clothes and a goat picking through trash. As I walk along the river taking in the scenery my attention is interrupted every 20 feet by, “Hey wanna boat ride? No? Want some hash?”

A sunrise boat ride afforded some beautiful views of this city waking up. The sounds of Hindu prayers, drums, and Korean tourist chatter filled the air already thick with smoke.

The roads are so small in the old city next to the riverside, one doesn’t walk, but more dodges with forward momentum. The obstacles include cows, cow poop, carts, paan spit, motorbikes and throngs of Hindu pilgrims. Once at the open air of the river, one can relax a little and enjoy the scene over a chai.

While sitting along the river one day, I recognized a traveler I had met in Cambodia. I called out to him, he sat and we chatted for a while. A couple Hindu Holy Men, called Sadhus or Babas, joined us. They offered us chai and one of them fetched it for us. We asked about their rituals, the chillum (type of pipe), charras (hash), and their mantras. Om-Namah-Shivaya is a mantra they repeat throughout the day to center themselves and give them energy. The five syllables (excluding Om) represent the five elements of earth, water, fire, air, and space. It was nice to connect with some authentic Babas to learn a few things without obligation, as there are many phony holy men who beg throughout India.

 

Mumbai

While in Mumbai, I ate one of the best Thalis (Indian dish with multiple small local delicacies) I have had in India. While munching on this all-you-can-eat Thali, something was terribly wrong. I was seated in the corner by the bathroom. It was an easy choice to give me that seat, given my solo status and less than chic clothing. I embraced the corner view though, and watched the Mumbaikers (locals in Mumbai) eat and chat.

Everything was pleasant until I watched a man hurry to the bathroom, panic when the men’s room was taken and then proceed into the ladies room for a big vomit. Now, an isolated puke is nothing to worry about. But, then I noticed at the table in front of me, a woman with her head on the table.  She made her way to the bathroom. I couldn’t help but look concerned as her tablemates looked past my table to the bathroom. Her friend looked at me and said, “Maybe it’s jet lag.” I said, “She’s not the first to puke tonight. I am scared. Did she have the Thali?”

The room started to spin violently and I started to hallucinate. Not really, but the story would have been better that way. Everything turned out ok for me though. Needless to say I slowed down on the bottomless Thali. The rest of my brief time in Mumbai was spent in museums and walking around in the hot sun. I checked out iconic architecture like  the grand India Gate, the luxurious Taj Mahal Hotel, and the famous Victorian train terminal.

The afternoon sun was getting to me so it was time for refreshment. I went to see the famous Leopold’s, written about in the spectacular book Shantaram. I expected to be transported into a world of romantic intrigue. However, watching tourists while munching on my brownie and sipping Diet Coke didn’t quite live up to the tales of black market violence shared over whiskey I was looking forward to. None of these buildings or cafes were as entertaining or illuminating as watching my first full length Bollywood Movie at the Regal Cinema downtown.  The film was Agneepath. While it was in Hindi, I don’t think I would have followed the numerous plot turns if it were in English. One of the dancing and singing numbers almost brought me to tears.  I am converted. All films should have Bollywood-style dance numbers, especially action thrillers. Best Bollywood movie of all time as far as I’m concerned.

Udaipur

When I first arrived in Udaipur, I didn’t think I was going to like India’s most romantic city, famous for scenes from the James Bond Film Octopussy.  The main street was very small. The constant foot traffic, auto traffic and beeping were maddening. Adding to the stress, every shopkeeper beckoned you to come into to check out their scarves or custom made suits. However, after experiencing a sample of what Udaipur has to offer and dining on a couple rooftops over looking beautiful Lake Pichola, I wanted to stay longer.

My favorite time spent was painting. For 150 Rupees an hour ($3) an artist gave me lessons. It took two sessions and 3.5 hours to finish this masterpiece:

It makes me want to pick up painting again.

I also tried yoga for the first time in India. It was quite different to the scene in NYC I was used to. Instead of a calm soothing female leading a pack of mostly NYU girls, a young Indian man distracted by his cell phone barked different poses for me and my friend Sam. He challenged us to keep them for uncomfortably long periods of time while he checked his texts and watched the clock. It was great to move and stretch since it had been so long since I had taken yoga class. I left very centered. So centered I took a wrong turn on the way back to my guesthouse and spilled my coffee during breakfast.

Udaipur had many other cultural highlights. The main palace was a sprawling beautiful marvel. I saw a cultural variety show at the Haveli museum.

Performances included a dancer balancing an absurd amount of pots stacked on her head, other dancers with pots set afire on their head, and my favorite, the Rajasthani puppeteer. His moves brought life to his marionettes. The puppets physical comedy made me feel like a kid again. My last taste of culture was an auyervadic massage. It was my first and boy was it oily, oily in a good way though. It was vigorous, fluid and thorough massage; a nice change of pace after the regimented and precise Thai massage I took a class in.

Jaisalmer

The German couple I was with urged me to roll down the giant sand dune. I was scared the number of revolutions would make me puke. I hadn’t rolled down a hill in I don’t know how many years. What my threshold would be? Good thing I didn’t have a fresh Thali in my stomach. I couldn’t resist the peer pressure, or the girlish giggles the German man had emitted rolling before me.

Wow, it was fun rolling down a giant sand dune. I immediately tried to run back up the sand dune in a dizzy daze, but found myself veering directly left and falling down. It’s also super fun to run down sand dunes. It feels like you’re on the moon with little gravity, as you take giant steps and your steps are softly cushioned on impact.

I took an overnight camel trek from Jaisalmer, The Golden City, to the desert. We were only kilometers from the Pakistani border and my furthest stop west in India. The camel ride itself was ok. The highlights of the ride were going through the villages, an overnight in the dunes, and chatting with the fourteen-year-old assistant camel driver, Aladdin.

The hours of desert scrubland on a farting camel does start to lose its appeal after a couple hours though. It is quite an experience to ride these awkward beasts, but I had more fun leading them on foot, jogging while they huffed and puffed to keep up obediently.

On top of Jaisalmer, a huge picturesque fort perched on a cliff overlooks the rest of the city made of sandstone.

It feels like your stepping back in time walking through the dusty streets. It’s more relaxed than other cities in Rajasthan. The fort is unique in that it is still in use by shops and restaurants. One lovely place was the Himalayan Café, where I sat looking over the town while I ate chocolate momos (dumplings) and drank a Kingfisher with a new friend.

India was an assault on the senses in both a good and bad way. These extremes make for a very memorable trip. There is so much to see and do it’s no wonder people go back again and again. There are many more parts of India I want to see in the future. I know I will be back.

Cue the Bollywood dance sequence where I sing and dance surrounded by the cast of characters I came across in India, culminating in a climax of colorful saris, fireworks, and reckless swerving rickshaws, whose drivers sing to me to just jump in and enjoy. Namaste.

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Uncategorized

India: You Crazy

“There was a terrorist attack in the main bazaar where you are staying a couple days ago. You need to go to the tourist office to get permission to go there first,” said the man outside of New Delhi Train Station. I almost fell for it the way he said it. He was trying to lure me in a rickshaw and my guesthouse was only a five-minute walk away.  Welcome to India. Click here for pictures.

The ride to the train station via the airport express train was clean, fast and made me question all my assumptions about India. However, after getting out at the train station my senses were assaulted with new sites, smells and sounds that added up to overload.  Even in the airport I knew I was in a country unlike any other when there was a mad dash for customs after disembarking. People were not queuing properly and customs agents were yelling and motioning at people to keep order.

After asking a couple honest people which way to go from the train station, I was directed to go through it, as the Paharganj Main Bazar was on the opposite side. In the packed station people were sitting everywhere on the platforms, wrapped in blankets for warmth. Dust and a smoggy film hung in the sunlight. I crossed what seemed like ten different tracks via an overpass. Paranoid I fingered my wallet in my front pocket. Curious eyes watched my tense waddle weighed down by a backpack and daypack in front, the threat of pickpockets exaggerated in my head. After finding the proper exit, I found the main bazaar, backpacker and tout central in Delhi.

The pollution stung my eyes. Animal, human and automotive waste aromas crawled up my nose. The constant beeping horns of rickshaws and cars hammered my ears. I was wondering if this India thing was such a good idea; Phnomn Penh seemed quaint and idyllic now.

My budget guesthouse greeted me with an uninviting room with similar grime as the street. I talked to a fellow guest on the roof taking in the manic street-scape below. She assured me, as others had tried to brace me, that Delhi was not representative of all of India, and I would soon get used to it.

After a few days of getting adjusted to and then getting out of the big city, it is apparent that India is magical; I say that without irony or exaggeration. It’s a confluence of extremes. Extreme flavors, noises, smells, colors, cultures, and types of people. I’m not the first person to write about this first impression injection of shock to the system, but to experience it is like entering into a traveler’s fraternity hazing. The shock lays the foundation for the magic though.

The first magical moment was setting eyes on the Taj Mahal. Embracing cliché, this building is like a beautiful star you’ve seen in photographs and admired, but in her presence you truly understand an essence that seems to radiate from within. The grandeur, simplicity, symmetry and curves of this building are unmatched.  Different sized arches allow for the duality of scale and proportion that are both human and superhuman. I wondered how something so white, pure and beautiful exists amidst the poverty, pollution and trash not far from it.

After the Taj Mahal, I was off to Jaipur, the pink city, where I found myself under the spell of both benign and black magic.

I arrived during the kite festival. As I walked around the old town section, known for its pink facades, young and old alike were on rooftops deftly navigating hundreds, if not thousands of kites in the wind. A camera cannot do these aloft kites justice like the eyes can. Music was playing everywhere, people shouted from rooftop to rooftop, and it ended with a big fireworks show after sunset. Overall, a sense of joy and fun permeated the air throughout this whole town, in a way I have never experienced before.

As for the black magic, I had never been sick from street food before. I first tempted fate with some fried spicy falafel like balls, tasty danger wrapped in newspaper. Nothing can stop this world traveler now. I think what got me though, were some dessert treats that had maybe sat out for a while outside of Jaipur Palace. I thought myself invincible and tested fate. Fate bitch slapped me. I will spare you the details as to the digestive hilarity that ensued. However, I was under for 24 hours and once I thought was going to throw up and pass out simultaneously. Instead I just sweat profusely. From then on I started to feel a bit better. Maybe it was the Cipro I decided to take. Either way I was lucky the spell was temporary. At least I lost my street cart sickness virginity. It had been weighing on my mind.

The food and drink I have had are amazing though! My dinners and lunches have been filled Palak Panner, Aloo Ghobi, Samosas, Pakoras, Dosas and even my favorite back home Chicken Tikka Masala.  The food is so rich and well spiced. The lassis are very tasty. I even had a desert called “Hello to the Queen,” consisting of nuts, raisins and ice cream, on top of crushed cookies covered in chocolate syrup. Yum. All of this has been very welcome in my stomach.

As I sip my Masala Chai, I’m writing this post from Pushkar. It’s a smaller more relaxed town on the edge of the desert that has a power all it own. It is one of the holiest Hindu cities in India, where the pious purify themselves in the bathing Ghats by the lake. Alongside the devout, a few unscrupulous, less than holy men conjure money from tourists by offering them blessings and flowers.

There is little automotive traffic, no alcohol or meat are allowed and the spirituality is tangible everywhere.  It’s nestled in a valley and small mountains surround it. The setting is a nice break from cities. As a former hippy town and a budget traveler’s paradise, there are quite a few dreadlocked Westerners wearing the Aladdin style pants, sipping bhang (form of marijuana) lassies and getting the “authentic” Indian experience. But snobby nouveau hippies cannot take away from a sunset listening to the Nagara drum, or walking up the nearby mountain to see sunrise or just enjoying a view of the lake from a roof top restaurant.

There is a lot more of India for me to see on this trip and in future trips. My travels take me in a u shape from here. First I travel west to Jodhpur, the Blue City and Jaisalmer, the Golden city, then south to Udaipur and Bombay, and then finally to Varanasi, the soul of India.

More to follow….

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Uncategorized

KL, Melaka & Singapore

After Cambodia I was off to Kuala Lumpur (KL) in Malaysia for a stop over before going to visit Nicky in Melbourne for New Year’s.  I had Christmas in KL, checked out Melaka, another Malaysian town, and finally Singapore for a couple days.

Link to the pictures

KL is the hub for Asia Airlines, a low cost airline, that goes everywhere in South East Asia, which is why I decided to spend a few days there.  I arrived to a nice subway system and familiar fast food chains. Mmmm…Whopper. But, KL is not as captivating as Phnom Penh or Chaing Mai; (Snob alert) KL is globalized, so it doesn’t have the same charm.  It does feature a unique cultural salad of Malay, Indian and Chinese people which makes you wonder what country you’re actually in at times. But who needs a salad when there are Whoppers right? (Ugly American alert) Still a tad under the weather upon arrival on Christmas Eve, I took a nap at Back Home hostel. I woke up to the sounds of a Christmas party. Free beer and pizza, friendly travelers and a cool space took some of the homesickness away from not being home for the holidays.

The next day I walked KL silly. I started with the Central Market, headed over the river and walked by the National Mosque. It is a beautiful structure but they didn’t allow tourists in when I went by, unfortunately, as it was prayer time. I walked by a couple museums but was not in the mood, but I was in the mood to get my bird on. I took a stroll around the KL Bird Park, gawked at exotic species and got my glamour shots with tropical birds.

I also checked out the chicks there.

KL is known for its impressive shopping malls so I went over to the Rodeo Drive – Times Square of KL, Bukit Bintang.  It was Christmas day and the malls were in full effect. I could only peak in before being overwhelmed. There were really cool Buddy Bear sculptures outside the Pavilion KL.

No time to grin and bear it; it was tower time. I ventured over in the sweltering heat to the famed Petronas Tours, the tallest twin tour structure in the world.

I snapped a few shots there and then headed to the KL tower. The view from up top was impressive. I returned to the hostel exhausted. But it was Christmas, so I joined some hostel friends for dinner and then drinks at a nearby rooftop bar. A couple we were with talked extensively abut the joys of teaching English in South Korea.  They relayed all the cultural nuances learned from the children they taught. First, the Korean girls like feminine looking Korean guys. Second, the girls have an agreed upon hierarchy of attractiveness in their groups. Third, there are apparently several words for delicious since so much of Korean culture is based around food. The kids would come in after the weekend talking about what they ate. It’s funny how I ended up learning more about South Korea culture than Malaysian culture.  That’s the price one pays for hurrying through country.

To get a little more culture, I ventured on to a smaller town called Melaka, which is known for its wonderful food and picturesque riverside. I went with Steven, a friendly Aussie. We spent the afternoon exploring the town, which we covered pretty quickly and both agreed we wouldn’t be spending too much time here.

Since Melaka didn’t have too much beyond food to captivate me, I decided to see Singapore since I was close and it sounded like a cool modern city. While on the bus there I talked to an older South African. He described Singapore as one of the few first-world countries; featuring great transit, great roads, and clean everything. He also described the strict social order the government keeps. I witnessed this when I saw a $1000 dollar fine for riding your bike along the river-walking path. Another punishable offense was parking your motorbike on the sidewalk, which is perfectly normal in most places in South East Asia.

The train system felt like those modern sleek airport trams in the states. I plopped down my backpack in a dorm room (lodging was a lot more expensive in Singapore) and checked out Chinatown – which was a step up from KL’s Chinatown in terms of size and character. After an early bedtime I walked all over Singapore to hit the major spots. I started with little India, which is more colorful and grittier than the rest of the city. Then I walked through Clarke’s Quay, a commercial riverside area with restaurants and shops. Next was Fort Canning Park, which had some amazing old trees. This sign warned of the impending doom if you ventured into the fenced-in reservoir in the park. Eeeek!

Next up was the Orchard area, home to a gigantic strip of shopping malls. After perusing a few malls, drinking a Starbucks skinny vanilla latte and 20 minutes deliberating over some shoes (did I really just admit all that?), I headed down to the marina bay area. On the way there I stopped for a drink on the 70th floor of the Stamford hotel to enjoy the epic views.  The waitress refilled my chip bowl no less than two times. My backpacker fashion was a little out of place in the upscale bar, but it didn’t stop me from enjoying myself. I continued my walk down to the marina to take pictures of the sleek imaginative architecture.

I got caught in a monsoon downpour along the bay, but luckily they have permanent huge umbrellas lining the promenade where you can wait out the storm. After the rain I headed over to the riverside for my last dinner in South East Asia to reflect on the wonderful, dangerous, hectic, fun and sobering experiences I have had over the past two months in this part of the world. The next morning I took a return bus to Kuala Lumpur to catch a flight to Melbourne to spend the New Year with Nicky!

 

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Cambodia

Cambodia

Cambodia…where to start with this country? The traffic. Holy sh*t the traffic here is crazy. There seem to be four directions of traffic on a given road, the usual opposing directions of traffic in the lanes, and then on the shoulders, a bike or tuk tuk could be operating in the other direction. Nothing surprises the drivers, and people generally don’t get angry. It’s a terrifying lot as a tourist pedestrian. Your best bet it to just keep a constant pace while crossing once there is a lull and have faith the motorbikes steer around you. I avoided a near collision as I took a step back to the shoulder on a crossing attempt; not realizing a motorbike was right behind me. I only knew how close I was to disaster when I saw the look of horror on an approaching monk’s face as he saw my near demise. As his bike got closer, his face turned grateful I wasn’t road kill, and he uttered, “sorry.”

Before I go into the city of Phnom Penh, I’ll review a recent little history, since I was pretty clueless before my visit. In 1974 the Khmer Rouge came to power and over threw the reigning government. Pol Pot, the movement’s leader, wanted to change Cambodia into a communist agrarian society. He systematically killed the nation’s intellectuals, doctors, city people and anyone who was not ethnically Khmer among other innocents for fear they would undermine his reign. It started with the taking over of the capitol of Phnom Penh, which was literally emptied on April 17th, 1975. It continued with the relocation of many millions and the brutal deaths of almost 2 million.

During the trip I read,  “At First They Killed My Father” a little girl’s autobiographical account of the Khmer Rouge’s siege of Phnom Penh, the restructuring of the country and the systematic killing of their own people. This book provides a riveting and heartbreaking account of this tragedy from a four year-old’s perspective. Once I arrived in Phnom Penh I visited two memorial sites to the genocide, the Killing Fields and Tuel Sleng. The Killing Fields were literally fields where prisoners of the Khmer Rouge were killed. Prisoners were blindfolded and murdered with tools like hoes and axes, while propaganda music blared from speakers to muffle their screams. Bullets were too expensive. Soldiers would grab children by the legs and bash them against a tree, and there was a specific tree they used. Then they were dumped in mass graves. A well-produced audio tour guides you around the site where excavated graves sit as depressions in the grass.

During rains storms bits of clothing and bone still surface, and caretakers collect these. In the middle of the field there is a memorial stupa (Buddhist shrine), which houses hundreds of skulls of the victims. It is a sobering and macabre site.

Many of the victims who ended up at the killing fields were transported from Tuel Slan (S21). This was a school turned into a detainment and torture center. It has since been turned into a museum. It’s an eerie museum, which features the original jail cells, the barbed wire that kept prisoners from jumping to kill themselves and the occasional bloodstain. Surprisingly, only now are some of the leaders who were responsible for this killing facing a UN war crimes tribunal. The world seemed not to know what was going on here, or chose to ignore it.

Phnom Penh is a hectic city, but I gained a bit of peace along the riverside, which is quite pretty. They’re groups of people do dancing aerobics, friends chatting and children playing. Venture inland and the regular mix of stores and outdoor markets are side by side with working girl bars and massage parlors. Many people come into Phnom Penh for the sex tourism which seems very open, more so than Thailand. Later on in my trip I spoke with a documentarian that did a film on the child business here. There is a specific place outside of the city that specializes in children for the interested perv. Ok I am not really selling Cambodia yet am I?

On a positive note there are shooting ranges in the area and I took the opportunity to fire off a round of a M-4, a shiny new automatic weapon. Overall the experience was a bit of a let down as it was over so quickly (that’s what she said) but it was pretty awesome to experience the raw power the killing machine had (that’s what…oh never mind).  But in all seriousness, later I took a lovely ride through the villages outside of the city, which was a nice way to get a glimpse of the village life.

I went with Blazing Trails on a half-day tour through rice fields, villages and country. Little kids along the path were used to the ATV rumble and would run out to greet us. It was so darn cute these kids were just happy to say hello.

Cambodian kids are adorable. One aside, if I was a professional photographer I would do a series on toddlers on the front of motorbikes. I am horrified by it; one at the lack of helmet, and two the lack of seatbelt. But I also think its so freakin adorable, these little faces squinting with wind in their eyes and their hair flying about.

After a couple of days in the city I booked a bus to Sihanoukville, the main beach hub on the southern coast. I avoided downtown and headed to Otres beach. Otres is a quieter beach that is a little tricky to get to, so less people come. It is one of the places a traveler looking for an ideal beach comes, and ends up staying. It’s the perfect mix of relaxed vibe, good social scene and beautiful sunsets. Forbes listed it as one of the top 22 beaches in the world. There are no big developments yet, and it feels like a small town. I stayed in a room at a small Cambodian family owned guesthouse / beach shack. It was a hefty 5$ a night so I decided to stay for a bit.

I want to come back and do a reality show of the characters there at the beach, including the owners Oocha Bar. These hard drinking Aussies who invite patrons not just to just drink, but to “contend.” These bar owners probably get drunker than their patrons, but are having a good time doing it. I arrived here first in Otres. A couple of friends I made on the bus down knew the bar owner, so stopped here first before finding a place to stay. It started to pour heavily, so the only thing to do was pour a beer and get to know the locals. Soon I was watching one of the bar owners guzzle from a beer bong while being tazed willingly, by a tazer that was being played with.

After five days of some serious r & r at the beach I headed back to Phnom Penh. My first mission was to get more pages in my passport. I felt proud of myself for reaching this travel milestone. I visited the U.S. Embassy, and it was nice to see old faithful flapping in the wind. Later I saw a sign for the international Cambodian film festival. I looked it up online and it was three days of movies, documentaries and shorts. I decided to stay in Phnom Penh and binge on films.

I’ll spare the details of what I saw, but it was really cool to see Cambodia through various filmmakers’ lenses.  There were a few docs on the atrocities of the Khmer Rouge, which further punctuated the horror stories from the memorial and museum.  There were also some documentaries, which highlighted the decline of the old ways in small villages as old school tribes cope with the modern world.

Next I was on to Battanbang for a taste of a quieter town. It’s the fourth biggest city in Cambodia, but seems like worlds away from the hustle and bustle in Phnom Penh. It’s also less tourist-centric which is nice. I met an American on the bus ride over, EJ from Oregon, and we hit it off. We ended up staying at the same guesthouse, and how could we not for 4.50$ a night for private rooms. We ended up grabbing drinks that night and had our first (and only) encounter with a Cambodian beer girl.

EJ and I decided to have beer at a local place nearby. Then a girl for Cambodia Beer came over and offered us beer. We gladly accepted and then she sat down with us and kept pouring us beers. Her English was non-existent. She had a manager there too whose English was not much better. They both shared our beers and some smiles. Then the manager started pointing at Esmerelda (the closest English approximation of her name we could decipher) and I nefariously. OK. I get it…I read that some of these beer girls double as working girls. He then kind of pushed our heads together as if I didn’t understand, and said, ”boom boom.” Hmmm…I used my best sign language and broken English to indicate,  “no boom boom.” (a wagging finger, followed by pounding fists).  We did get free Cambodia Beer hats out of the deal. We were quite amused with Esmeralda’s eager to please attitude, but soon parted ways with no boom-boom.

The next day I woke up feeling awful, and it wasn’t a hangover. I had a fever. My first fear was malaria, so I headed over to the local clinic, and got some blood tests. I did have a 102-degree fever, but not Malaria. The doctor suspected Dengue Fever. It sounded cool, but bad too. My fever broke the next day, and the following day I went for a follow up. No Dengue…it seemed like simple tonsillitis. I’ll take it. I was pretty tired so I took it easy for a few days in Battanbang. Time was running out to get to Siem Reap, so I took a bus after three days on the mend.

Siem Reap is the popular hub for visiting the great temples of the Angkor period. This includes, but is not limited too Angkor Wat, Bayon and Ta Prohm (made famous by the Movie Tomb Raider with Angelina Jolie). I awoke before dawn and my Tuk Tuk driver took me to Angkor Wat for sunrise. Some argue this is one of the largest religious temples in the word. Indian structures and Hinduism influence it heavily. It’s meant to evoke a mountain climbing towards the gods.

As it’s tourist peak season I am not the only one who was up for sunrise and I would guess at least 200 others were there too to get the perfect snap. The temple is so grand in scale.  Detailed bas-reliefs run along the outside of one the courtyards, and they highlight centuries of history.  Next was Bayon, which is known for its huge sculpted heads, and it’s convoluted structure.

Successive kings built over the existing structure many time so it’s maze like, enormous and impressive. The last temple of note was Ta Prohm. It was the only temple in the vicinity left close to its natural state. Gigantic Silk Cotton Trees and smaller Strangler Fig Trees and sculpted rock live side by side and create a beautiful effect.

Visiting the temples was an epic climactic way to end my trip. The country is a confluence of grandeur, history, chaos, beauty, grit and crazy freakin traffic. And no boom boom!

Categories
Thailand

Thailand Part 2: Recovery & Relaxation

Link to Photos on Facebook

My sprained foot put my Thai kickboxing plans on ice. Speaking of ice, I needed a few days of recovery time before I was going anywhere. After a sad goodbye with Nicky, I parked myself in Ao Nang for a few days. I got into a rhythm of hobbling to the beach, swimming, reading and eating at the local restaurant, Family. There I dined on good cheap food and drank smoothies while listening to lounge covers of popular songs, included Smells Like Teen Spirit. Let the healing begin. I also took a Thai cooking course. It was a fun half day whirlwind introduction to Thai cooking. I got accused of being a lady boy by the teacher as I started to leave the course with my apron still on.

After a few days my foot improved, so I was able to change locations. I moved on to neighboring Railey beach, an ideal place to watch the sunset. While walking around the island looking for accommodation a girl in front of me was approached by a monkey and his gang. The monkey walked up to her and started climbing up her dress. She screamed as I started to come over to help. The monkey tore through her plastic bag holding fresh pizza. I had come over and started yelling at the monkey to scare it, but I am not scary to a monkey. He ran away with the pizza. Beware of monkeys when carrying pizza. After finding a nice bungalow, I caught a really beautiful sunset.

The next day I explored the area and ended up at the Phra Nang Cave beach which was ruggedly beautiful. It is cave surrounded by stalagmite covered cliffs.

There were climbers scaling the walls. Longtail boats come around lunch time and cook anything from traditional Thai food to sandwiches. Later that day during low tide I walked on the rocks along the beach to the adjacent Ton Sai beach. This is where the hardcore climbers and backpackers stay. It’s one of those places people come and stay for weeks. It’s still quiet and undeveloped thanks to a rocky beach front and lack of luxury accommodation.

It was Thanksgiving, so of course I had to have the traditional Thanksgiving pizza. I spent some time Skyping with my family. It was bizarre sitting outside with waves crashing behind me sporting a tank top. I have soooo much to be thankful for this year. I am thankful my family is healthy and happy, I’ve got a wonderful beautiful girlfriend and amazing friends. I am also so grateful for this opportunity to see and experience the world. I am lucky and glad I took the plunge. To be honest, I was a little thankful I didn’t have to do the hardcore training I was planning with the Thai kickboxing 🙂

I decided on a Thai massage class in lieu of kickboxing. I also decided to go to Chiang Mai in the north as I had heard wonderful things about it. Phuket was sounding sleazier and sleazier the more people I talked to as well.  I enrolled in a week long Introduction to Thai Massage at the Thai Massage School of Chiang Mai. Chiang Mai is wonderful charming city. It has a population around 1 million, but still feels like a small city. Part of the city is demarcated by the old moat, walls and gates originally built in the 13th Century. It exudes history, charm and friendliness. I spent the first day walking around town checking out different Wats (temples). First was Wat Pra Sang, an impressive temple and a buddhist monk school. While there I was captivated by Buddhist pearls of wisdom posted on trees in the garden.

Walking through the garden I met Mr. Chai. We started talking and he showed me around the temple and then recommended and accompanied me to restaurant for lunch. His friendliness was a nice introduction to Chiang Mai. After lunch I headed to another temple, Wat Srisuphan which is home to the silver temple and a silver works school. That evening, I walked through the Sunday night market. It’s a huge weekly market featuring every type of Thai craft and street food you can imagine. It runs through the center of the old town. I had a lot of fun taking pictures, especially of these guys.

It was time to start massage class. I was a bit nervous but soon relaxed once class started. 🙂 Each morning we were picked up via a Songtaew (red pick up with two benches in the back) and picked up the other students (almost all foreigners). We would start the day with tea and chatting, getting our temperatures read to make sure we weren’t sick and then slipping into our massage clothes.

Then we did some light exercises, a prayer to buddha and were given our lessons. The teacher would demonstrate techniques for certain part of the body and then we were off practicing on our partners. Class was a lot of fun, although I am not a huge fan of foot massages. I mean getting them is ok…but giving them? Not for this guy. The teachers didn’t speech great English, but still managed to teach us very well.

There was a market nearby where we would go for lunch. My regular became a soup stop which served chicken soup with noodles and vegetables. Yum. Dessert was a steamed chocolate bun the likes of which I had never seen. It was like a pork bun, but chocolate. I was in heaven. Lunch was long enough to allow for a brief nap on the massage class matts before the afternoon session. Ok, now I really am in heaven. Then we were off watching demonstrations and practicing. My two best friends in the class were Melissa (USA) and Sheryl (UK). We all stayed in the same guesthouse and ended up exploring the city together in the evenings.

I was sad to say goodbye to class, new friends and practicing massage all day. I did get a lot out of the five days and am ready to practice,but I was ready for adventure too. The next three days were packed with an introduction to Reiki, an action packed trek day and a day with the elephants. Sheryl signed up for an introduction to Reiki class during the middle of the week and my curiosity was peaked…what was this energy healing all about? Rod at the Chiang Mai Body and Mind Center gave us no nonsense introduction which I enjoyed. He explained that each one of us contains the power to heal with our hands, and we do it instinctively but the practice of Reiki puts you more in touch with that innate skill and allows you to amplify it. After some relaxation techniques, chanting and our first self Reiki session for twenty minutes I definitely felt very at peace and relaxed.

The next day was all about action. I signed up for tour which included an elephant ride, hike to a waterfall, whitewater rafting and a bamboo raft ride. The elephant ride was fun, but didn’t compare to my experience the next day at Patara Elephant Farm. It was amazing being on top of such a huge beast. The waterfall was a fun hike, an hour there and hour back. The whitewater rafting was the highlight, and there were a couple rapids that were big enough to get the adrenaline going. I was up front and had a front row seat to watch my seat mate across from me falling out of the boat into the river when we hit the rapids sideways. He made it out alive and was ok. The bamboo raft ride is better in theory than it practice. Sitting on the bamboo we were half submerged in water, and it was anticlimactic after the whitewater.

My last full day was spent at the Patara Elephant Farm and it was such an amazing way to end my Chiang Mai visit. The day program is billed as own an elephant for the day. After arriving, the owner, Pat gave us an introduction to the farm, told us why it was unique from the other elephant camps and what we would be doing. Patara is focused on breeding elephants as their numbers have diminished drastically in the last 50 years. They take healthy elephants, provide them with a lot of land to roam on, even secluded honeymoon trips when the women are in heat. Our responsibilities were to take care of the elephants including: daily inspection, brushing, washing and feeding. Then we had some fun riding and swimming with them.

Fun facts about elephants…their poop doesn’t smell, unless they’re sick. You want to see six pellets of poo at least. It’s about three hours from eating to pooping. They sleep four hours a day. If they sleep standing up it means they’re sick as they know they wouldn’t be able to get back up. You can tell if they slept on the ground by inspecting the dirt marks on their skin. Happy and healthy elephants ears and tails wag and they sweat (only above their toenails).

Each person got their own elephant to take care of for the day. Mine was Boon Jien, a big teenage male. I was worried he was going to be a bit unruly given his age, gender and the warnings from the trainers. First we started with feeding the elephants which is how you bond with them. I literally was sticking bananas in his mouth while it closed on my hand and huge tongue slurped me as I pulled my hand away.

Then we got to wash and brush them in the river. Proper skin care is important for elephant health to avoid infection. After the river they demonstrated how to get on the elephant. He lifts his leg of off the ground and creates a little ladder for you by bending his lower and upper leg.

Then you climb up his shoulder and swing your leg around. Boy is it HIGH up there. No safety harness, just your knees tucked snuggly up at the top of the elephants ears and faith.

After a ride and lunch we got to swim with them. There was a nine month old baby elephant who was cute, mischievous and loved playing. I had fun with him in the water as we were trying to push each other over. I was instructed to get him from the side from the trainers. I learned quickly I had no chance facing him head on. The day was a special one. It was nice to see the elephants so well taken care of.

I was sad to leave Chiang Mai. It is a special place; the friendliness of the people, the inexpensive food and lodging, perfect weather, the history, the markets, the massages all make for it a city you can feel comfortable, welcome and relaxed in. I was about to embark on city that was a little less welcoming, less relaxing and whose recent history has been marked with genocide.

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Thailand

Thailand Part 1: Beach Hopping

Nicky and I planned on meeting in Thailand, as it was on my list and close enough for her to get from Australia for ten days. She needed a nice relaxing beach vacation as a break from life working in the ER and spending her free time studying. It had been a while since we’d seen each other at my sister’s wedding in August. We met in Bangkok and traveled south to the beaches together. The pictures are here.

From my initial taxi ride from the airport in Bangkok I saw the impact of the floods. Roads were impassable, sandbags were stacked along streets and hundreds of cars lined the raised roads surrounding the airport where parking wasn’t allowed. The taxi meter kept rising quickly. It had far surpassed what was supposed to be a reasonable fair. I asked the driver about it, and he said his electronics had been shorted and were malfunctioning after a drive through the water.

I stayed in an adorable and affordable hostel called Baan Dinso. It was a nice little oasis in the chaos and heat of the crazy city. I ventured out to check out the local Kathong festival. The festival’s custom is for Thais to send candles on flower floats into the water, along with their wishes. I quickly became sandwiched in foot traffic going nowhere fast heading towards the festival. I backed out and headed for Plan B, Ko Sahn road for dinner. It lives up to its fame as a backpackers haven with shopping, clubs, drinking and many grungy backpackers.

The next day I visited Wat Pho, known for the temple of the giant reclining buddha.

In the grounds of the temple I also got my first thai massage there from a student of the local school. Yes! I like Thai massages. I walked around the city and saw more of the flood’s impact along the river side. For the most part, people were going about their daily life though.

I walked over sandbags to get into the Bangkok National Museum which has really impressive collections. One exhibit that stood out were lithographs of the story of Siddartha on the walls surrounding a buddha statue in a shrine. I didn’t have time to check out the whole place as I had a deadline.

I got a shuttle to the airport after the museum to meet Nicky. I even welcomed her with a homemade welcome sign. It was so good to see her! The next morning we flew to Krabi, south west of Bangkok, along the shore. From there we hopped in a minibus and drove to Klong Nin beach in Ko Lanta. We arrived at White Rock Resort, which Nicky’s friend had recommended. It had an amazing garden and really nice rooms. We explored the beach and the local village, where we booked an island tour for the next day. The beach was very beautiful. We ended the afternoon with his and her massages on the beach for sunset. Very nice.

The boat tour was amazing. The two highlights were lunch at the white powdery beach at Koh Kraden and swimming into emerald cave to find a hidden beach. Our guides had flashlights as the cave got really dark. The drama was intensified by little headroom between the top of the water and the cave ceiling, waves in the water and a terrified crying baby. He surely was in the process of developing a new phobia.Once we got to the end of the cave we were greeted by turquoise waters surrounded by rock walls on all sides, and sunlight shining through the open roof of the cave. There are a few places I have visited whose beauty make me giddy. This one of them.

The next day we took it easy lounging by the pool at the resort, swimming in the ocean and walking around. We had cocktails sitting on a bamboo lounge setup for two on the beach at sunset. The setting was ideal. There were just enough people but not too many, good music, but not too loud and of course the perfect company.

Ko Phi Phi was our next destination, and it was a really beautiful culture shock. We had been warned about the crowded sidewalks and noise. The warnings were right. We booked a resort on the quieter end of the strip i.e. we could notice the base thump of the bar nearby, but not be disturbed by it. The real draw was the neighboring islands, so we booked another boat tour. After dinner we found out our resort offered free boat tours, so we returned our purchased tickets and the next day set sail with two German couples from the resort.

They were not too friendly…the happy pair and the unhappy pair were happy speaking German, and didn’t respond well to our attempts at befriending them. So Nicky and I had our own fun. We visited Maya Beach, featured in the movie The Beach and Monkey Beach, where monkeys live. Maya Beach was absolutely stunning. It’s a big tourist attraction so its a crowded, but the crowds can’t take away the paradise vibe from this cove.

The price, the sites, the swimming, and the boat were so good we decided to do it again the next day. The second time we had many more people and more fun on the boat.

Our last stop, after a ferry ride, a packed truck transfer and speed boat ride was an AMAZING resort. Nicky booked this place as a birthday present for me, to shower us with a private beach luxury for two days. We caught the sunset from our deck overlooking the ocean and it was magnificent.

The next day we walked to neighboring Ao Nang beach to check out the town. Our beach was not connected to the neighboring beach, so we had take the monkey trail, up the hill a bit, and we saw so many freakin monkeys…they even grabbed for Nicky’s bag at one point. They’re used to humans. We were advised to lock our doors as they know how to open them to find food; mischievous silly little monkeys.

Later, we were headed to the beach to go for a swim together and then IT happened. I jumped off a ledge on to the beach carefree, but a hidden rock met the bottom outside of my left foot. Owwww! Immediately my walking was compromised. I was able to swim with the pain, but walking on the main land was really painful. Nicky went into doctor mode, and I went into wussy mode. We both agreed x-rays would be best to rule out a fracture. The hotel was great in helping out. We hopped on to the speedboat and then were driven to a clinic in town. It’s Thai tradition to take your shoes off in the house and in some workplaces, so our doctor was barefoot. Interesting. After drying via a fan, the x-rays turned out normal.

It was fun to watch Nicky and the clinic doctor talk doctor talk, compare techniques and recent war stories. I walked out on one foot with an ankle brace and crutch. We got back to the resort with plenty of time to spare for the Thai buffet that night. Phew.

Nicky had to go back the following day. We were sad to say goodbye. We had so much fun together. Now it was time to lay low and recuperate. I had planned two weeks of learning Thai kickboxing but that was now out of the question…so I decided to make peace instead of war…more on that in part 2.

Categories
Turkey

Turkey Take Two

After Madrid it was time to finish what I started in Istanbul. Four more days until I was off to Thailand, and those days made all the difference in my impression of Istanbul. I left leaving a bit sad, which is a good thing.

The first day back was my birthday; 33 years old. I had celebrated the night before , so after skyping my parents and soaking up my Facebook Wall love, I had dinner at Optimist Cafe opposite the Blue Mosque. I guess you could say my birthday was looking up and was righteous. There were no available tables so a man beckoned me to join him. He was the owner of the place, Muhammed. We chatted and I ate with a stranger for my birthday dinner. While I was not surrounded by family or friends, I knew there were people who loved me and were thinking about me. I also was in an amazing place in a free time in my life, so I felt good. Bed time was nice and early so I could go for a run along the Bosphorous river in the morning.

The run felt great after a long hiatus from jogging. Afterwards shopping at the Grand Baazar was on tap, but unfortunately due to a muslim holiday it was closed for four days and reopened after my departure. Bummer. As a birthday present I decided to treat myself to a Turkish bath at Cagaloglu, a world famous 300 year old exquisite tourist trap.

I got massaged and bathed by rough Turkish fellow who took layers off my skin and cracked places in my body I didn’t know were crackable. Relaxed and clean, I decided  to walk the city silly. My journey started from the Grand bazaar, through Sultahnamaet down to the river, across the Golden Bridge and into Beyoglu. I walked around, hung out in a cafe, shot pictures  and took in the city. I followed locals around along their walking routes. It proved worthwhile in discovering bits of the city I hadn’t seen previously.

The following day I visited Hagia Sofia, and was blown away. Often I feel unimpressed with old religious buildings, but this one inspired a true feeling of awe and grandeur.

Hagia Sophia is a former basilica, later a mosque, and now a museum. From its dedication in 360 until 1453, it was the Greek Orthodox Cathedral in Constantinople.  The building was turned into a mosque from 1453 until 1931, when it was changed into a museum. It was the largest cathedral in the world for nearly a thousand years.

That afternoon I went into Beyoglu to Taksim Square where I had made plans to meet up with Umut Ersoy. Umut works in Porter Novelli’s Istanbul office and a friend in the New York office suggested I get in touch. I was planning on visiting the office and meeting the PN team, but they were closed for the holiday. Lucky for me, Umut was kind enough to take me around the city and was an excellent guide. As we started walking and figuring out a plan, I told him I had not yet tried Raki, Turkey’s signature liquor, similar to Greece’s Ouzo. We went to Zeytinli Restaurant and Umut started ordering all types of starters I would have been bashful to order on my own. He explained the nuances of Raki culture. It’s all about talking…from sports to women to life…it’s about taking time to connect. You need to eat food and relax with it. A Turkish man looks forward to the day when he can share Raki with his son.

After a lot of food and Raki (cut with water to take out some of the bite) we took a cab ride by the river for a waterpipe (hookah) and tea. It was a 15 minute walk, but Umut insisted on a cab to give me the Sultan’s treatment. After explaining this treatment to the cab driver he waived the fare for us. Over waterpipes and tea in Tophane we played backgammon and I soaked in the rich smokey atmosphere.

After tea is was time for desserts, and we got treated to an assortment of Turkish treats. To my disappointment chocolate is not a staple, but the desserts were tasty none the less. Umut’s friend Betse came to meet us for dessert and joined us for the rest of the evening.

I found out Umut is a Turkish celebrity, having appeared on television for his blog about toilets around Istanbul and Turkey called Toilet Guru. It started as funny joke that snowballed into a popular site. His friend Betse was an impressive designer as well, who’s signature project Map Envelope provides a way to print out an envelope with your location printed on a  google map inside.

We continued on for cocktails and onto a really cool club called Minimüzikhol where we ended the adventurous day. I really appreciated Umut’s hospitality, all the places he took me and the local treatment which gave me a whole new perspective on Istanbul. Next time I’ll let him know Im coming before my second to last day in the city.

On the last day it was time for some souvenir shopping and to check out the National Archeological Museum. The museum had a really impressive collection of artifacts, statues and sarcophaguses. It reinforced how rich and deep the layers and layers of history this country has, which I will not begin to recount here 🙂

My plan was to take the tram and subway to the airport for departure and everything was going smoothly until the tram stopped and everyone got out and started walking on the track, which is not normal. The tram in front of us us was involved in an accident where a van collided with it after crashing over the tram barricade. This stopped tram traffic in both directions. I thought getting a taxi was hopeless with all the people needing other means of transport. I looked hard for a cab and one stopped with several people trying to get it. An old before me stated his destination and the driver said no, asked where I was going, and he said yes. He then made up the time I lost and then some with his race car moves and bumping pop music.

It was nice to end my Turkey trip with an adrenaline rush sweetened by the assurance of making my flight. But that wasn’t the end of trouble in Turkey…While checking in I was informed  that a return or onward ticket was needed to get into to Thailand.  D’oh! I got a wifi connection and checked out a map. Cambodia is on my list and is close. Alright sounds good. Ok…there were a few travel agents, but most didn’t speak English, nor were they particularly interested in trying. I finally got one who could help, and got an onward ticket. Phew.

And I was off to to Bangkok where I would get to meet up with Nicky for 10 days for some beach fun!!!

 

Categories
Spain

Baby Seal visits Senor Beecho in Spain

The decision to go to Madrid was made after I cancelled the Egypt portion of my trip due to the unstable situation there. I have a very good friend from my middle school and high school years that lives there now, Iggy Romano. The name of the post refers to nicknames of ours from high school. No need to go into the embarassing origin stories. It was really good to see an old friend after traveling solo. He showed me  around and provided me a place to stay. Gracia Snr. Beecho! All pictures can be found here.

I took an easy metro ride from the airport to his apartment off the Tribunal stop in the center of town. We went to his apartment’s roof to get a bird’s eye view of the neighborhood. Iggy was an excellent tour guide and started teaching me some history of the area. We walked around town checking out Madrid’s highlights.

We started with the Capitol building, one of the most iconic, at the start of the busy the Gran Via (Main Street). We then walked past the Almudena Cathedral, which looked rather magnificent with the light at the time of day we passed.

Other cool buildings included the Caixia Forum, which featured hanging gardens

and a building with an M.C. Escher print on its facade.

It was Halloween night and a Saturday, so costumed kids and adults were sprinkled along the streets of Madrid.  After my first round of yummy tapas, Iggy and I ventured out to his local bar, El Perro, and saw a band I could not stand the sound of. I met some friends of Iggy’s, mostly a collection of talented and eccentric ex-pats. After the bar, we ventured on to the Sala Heineken, which featured the Stupid Zombie Kids DJ’ing. It was insanity. The DJs were working up the young Spaniards into a frenzied mosh pit, the likes of which I had not seen since I was a teenager at a hardcore punk show. I felt the electricity in the venue and this city. It was way past my bed time and things in the city were just getting started.

After a couple of rainy days exploring Madrid and relaxing, Iggy and I rented a car and were off to his country place in Chinchon, a small beautiful medieval village 50 kilometers south east of the city. It was a relaxing respite from the city. Since Iggy had been there last, they had taken down the bull ring they keep up all summer  in the plaza. It’s a shame there were no bull fights to watch, although we were to witness a big bull of sorts bearing down on us the next day. We woke up and went to the castle for a driving lesson. It had been years since I last even tried driving a manual car, and I needed a refresher. I have never really developed a competency with a manual car before, so it was definitely adventure time.

Adventure time turned into un accidente. Que lastima! I was merging onto a highway and was yielding to traffic on a ramp. I had come to a stop. Once it was clear I made the transition into first gear and started moving but stalled out. The big truck (aka the bull) behind me assumed I was going, didn’t notice the stall and rear ended us with a pretty strong jolt.

Iggy and I were ok, but stunned. The driver admitted fault immediately. Iggy took the driver’s seat again after we traded information and were on our way to Toledo.

Since the rental agency office in Toledo was closed for siesta, we had to wait to file an accident report. So we ventured into the old city of Toledo, a UNESCO world heritage site.  It’s a city that has been populated since the bronze age by such peoples as the Romans, Visigoths and Moors. There was even 700 years of peace and religious tolerance in this town before the inquisition known as La Convivencia, where Jews, Muslims and Christian co-existed peacefully. Iggy took me to the Synagogue de el Transito in the Jewish Quarter, which houses a museum about Sephardic history which was fascinating. After Toledo we went back to Chinchon for the evening where we took it easy and played with Iggy’s neck brace he got from the clinic in town.

He was a little sore for a couple days after, but is ok now. I was fine, besides my bruised ego.

The next day were off to Salamanca. This was bar far my favorite city to say out loud. It just rolls of the tongue. Salamanca. The city itself was as visually pleasing as it is to pronounce. It’s 200 KM west of Madrid and a UNESCO site as well. I was really impressed with beautiful Plaza Mayor, the University of Salamanca and the lovely parks. One park featured locks from couples who attached them to light poles and fences as symbols of their love.

We returned to Spain for one last night, my birthday celebration. We started at El Perro again, and went to the Diamante party at Sala Gold. It was a chance to check out how the Madrilenians really do it up in a club. I liked the neon sign that switched from:

to the dark and menacing:

Madrid was definitely more of a “Hello There” type of city for me, friendly and fun to explore. But for this aging man on his birthday and at other parts of the week, staying up way past his bed time was sometimes “Hell Here.” 😉 It’s a good thing rest and relaxation with Nicky was coming up in Thailand, but first a few days left in Istanbul before the long flight to flooded Bangkok.

Categories
Turkey

Turkey

I flew into Istanbul from Ethiopia and it was a different world. The weather was rainy and cold. There was an order in the airport and on the highway. The roads and cars were clean and new. It felt sterile and futuristic. After a cab ride much smoother than my initial cab ride in Ethiopia, I arrived at my hostel and ventured out exploring the Sultanahmet district; the old city and tourist center. Here is a link to all the of the Turkey pics on Facebook. I wandered by the Blue Mosque and the Hagia Sofia. I was expecting people to come up and try and sell me things or ask questions about where I was from, but I walked the streets unmolested. It was a nice feeling. These monumental structures were awe inspiring, but I soon ran out of gas after only an hour of sleep on the plane ride that night before.

Once rested, I began with the Istanbul standards. I started with the Basillica Cistern – a cool cathedral like underground cistern structure, built in 6th century Rome.

I ventured inside of the Blue Mosque with its amazing tiled mosaics and stained glass windows which were  breathtaking.

Lastly, I visited the Topkapi palace, the opulent home of the Ottman Sultans during their 600 year reign.

I also sorted out a few days of touring as well, which included the Troy Ruins, Ephesus Ruins, Pammukale and Cappadocia.

The Troy ruins were small and not visually impressive, but there were different walls of the settlement, which corresponded to different incarnations of the city. These layers made the site dense and rich with history. Troy is best known as the setting of the Trojan War described in Homer’s Illiad. The site was found in the mid 1800’s by English and German archeologists who studied Homer’s texts closely to figure out the exact hill of the site based on Homer’s descriptions of neighboring mountains, the types of trees that grew there and other geographical clues. The find gave historical grounding to some of Homer’s myth.

After the Troy ruins, I had some time to kill in the local town Eacabat, before taking an overnight bus to Selcuk for the Ephesus ruins. I had a lovely dinner of sea bass (and I made progress on getting over my phobia of eating whole fish). Once I was done, the waiter took the plate outside and fed the leftovers to eagerly awaiting cats. I’ve found this treatment  is typical of stray animals in Turkey – the community keeps them healthy and happy. It’s heartwarming to see that these animals can live comfortable lives with people looking out for them. I’ve felt like a bit of a stray dog at times taking the busses in Turkey with their many transfers and confusing bus stations, not knowing where to go or speaking the language. Luckily the Turkish people take care of their tourists too and I’ve been shepherded in the right direction each time.

After an overnight bus, and being pointed to my hostel, I was off to see Ephesus. Ephesus was an ancient Greek city, and later a major Roman city. During the Roman period, it was the second largest city of the empire for a number of years. The ruins here were spectacular, as were the cruise ship infused crowds which detracted a bit. I liked the cat lounging on the ruins. He looked well fed and content.

Next up on the tour circuit was Pammukale ,which means “Cotton Castle” in Turkish.  The ancient Greco-Roman and Byzantine city of Hierapolis was built on top of hillsides covered by formations of calcified cliffs. At first it looks like snow, but on closer inspection there are travertines, terraces of carbonate minerals left by the flowing water. The ruins and the terraces were stunning. I spent the afternoon with two Australian friends, Paul and Dora swimming in a hot spring pool, complete with columns from ruins in the water to lounge on. We then checked out the epic amphitheater and walked down barefoot on the cliffs while the sun was setting. The setting was magic.

If Pammukale was magic, then Cappadocia was fantasy. This area feels like a sci-fi movie. Cappadocia is home to cave houses on cliffs, underground cave cities that go deep underground and fairy chimneys.

The underground cities were designed for long term protection of the the Christians during Muslim invasion. They featured tandoori style ovens, ventilation shafts and even stables. In addition to these man made structures, there are also fairy chimneys. These structures are shaped by erosion caused by the wind and water. There is  a base layer  of sandstone topped by a layer of petrified lava which protects the sandstone below. I enjoyed crawling around the different levels and tunnels of the cave houses. It was like a jungle gym for adults.

The only thing that can top magic and fantasy is utopia, and Olympus, Turkey is almost just that. At least where I stayied had me saying, “I’ll stay one more day,” multiple days in a row. The hostel, Bayram’s, is 500m from the beach, and you walk through ruins to reach it. You can even pick oranges from the trees in the hostel’s courtyard. Outside of relaxing on the beach and in the hostel, there are some great hikes around. One night a few of us took a walk to check out the mountain flames of Chimera. These flames emanate from a nearby mountain continuously, fueled by methane from deep in the mountain below. The flames were bizarre and beautiful.

Another night Shaun White’s parents showed up and Red Bull sponsored climbers were all hanging out around the hostel campfire. Mrs. White kept talking about her son, and I finally had to ask who her son was. Ok…she deserves some bragging rights. After peeling myself from Bayrams, I continued west along the coast staying in the quiet beach town Patara,then on to the harbor town Fethiye, and finally back to Istanbul via my last overnight bus.

Turkey has been an amazing combination of natural geological beauty,amazing ancient ruins and world class beaches. And they feed their cats.

Next up a week in Madrid and its outskirts with my good old friend Iggy.