travelingchens

Zanzibar, September 22 (Perry)

2009-11-11T07:46:00.000-08:00

Settling In

After touching down in Zanzibar airport, we quickly deplaned and made our way to the main terminal. Being an island and all, we assumed that the airport would be fairly quiet but the fact that the terminal was essentially deserted was a bit strange. Literally, we walked through unmanned immigration gates and picked up our bags without seeing one airport employee (other than the crew that unloaded our bags). As empty as the inside may have been, once we exited the place we were bombarded with taxi drivers looking for our fare. Good to know some things never change. Since we had just roughed it on the mountain, Zanzibar was to be all about relaxing and with that, a little bit of mid-range luxury. As such, we had someone from out hotel, Dhow Palace, waiting there to pick us up.

Zanzibar town is essentially split into Stone Town and non-Stone Town, with the former being the main commercial and tourist area. Driving to our hotel through the narrow streets and amongst the Swahili style buildings, Stone Town reminded us very much of Lamu, Kenya. Except for the fact that cars and bikes, as opposed to donkeys, appeared to be the main source of traffic. Seeing that both Jen and I loved Lamu, we knew we were going to like our time here. At around $100 USD per night, the Dhow Palace was definitely a step up in price for us. But, with the island being such a tourist attraction, budget accommodations were not plentiful (nice ones, anyhow . . .). As we checked into our room, we had very high hopes for the place as the building itself was quite cool. Having certain expectations for what $100 should get us, we were a bit let down when we were shown our room. It’s not that the room wasn’t livable enough, it just wasn’t what we were expecting for our big splurge.

Luckily for us, Tembo, the sister hotel to Dhow was only a couple blocks away. Located on the beach, and with a more welcoming swimming pool, the Tembo was what we were looking for. With some slick bargaining, Jen was able to secure us a room at the same price as the Dhow (she’s much, much better at bargaining than I am). With two moves in two days, we were finally ready to settle in and enjoy our time.

Forodhani Gardens

For me, one of the main attractions of Zanzibar was the Forodhani Gardens, a food market with everything seafood. From fish skewers, to grilled calamari, to crab claws, to lobster, this market was my seafood paradise. Add in some local delicacies like Zanzibar pizzas and tasty samosas and you can see why we ate here for the first few days.

The first time we went to the market, which is pretty much a grid of tables set along the seafront, I felt like a kid in a candy store. The only thing that kept me from buying from the first guy that said “Hello” was Jen, who suggested we check out the scene before settling on a vendor. At first glance, all the tables seemed to be offering similar goods but as we learned, not all seafood is good food. We lucked out the first night and chose a table managed by a super friendly local. While the spread was impressive, it was really his non-aggressive sales tactics that secured our order. With eyes bigger than our stomachs, we proceeded to order 6 fish skewers, 2 lobster skewers, 2 samosas, and two large crab legs. The bill that night; under $20 CAD. You had me at “Hello”.

The next night, with the assumption that the quality of food had been established the night before, we decided to spread our business around. Big mistake! Not only were we very disappointed in our meal but we also committed the ultimate travelers’ sin. We ordered our meal without asking the price beforehand! Eating less than half the amount of food as the previous night, and definitely of worse quality, we ended up spending much more. For the rest of our time there, we never strayed from the first night’s table and accordingly, we were never disappointed again.

Exploring Stone Town

Stone Town is the kind of area where its best to just walk around and explore (ie. get lost). Maps, even when available, are essentially useless as street signs are non-existent. More often than not, we found ourselves wandering small streets completely lost, but that’s pretty much how you end up stumbling upon cool places. One such place, the Zanzibar Coffee house, was a super comfortable little tucked away shop which Jen and I soon memorized the route to. Like most resort towns, Zanzibar is full of souvenir shops and the main strip (if you can call it that) was a dizzying collection of arts and crafts. Once again, through the simple concept of over-saturation, many of the “unique” items that at first sight are very nice, end up appearing very generic and undesirable as you are bombarded with shop after shop selling the exact same items. Nevertheless, Jen and I spent a good couple of days picking up souvenirs and pieces of art for ourselves and folks back home. We figured by the time we get home, the pieces will regain their appeal (fingers crossed).

Diving & Snorkeling

Aside from its seafood and shopping, Zanzibar is known for many other things. Being an island, diving and snorkeling are a main draw. I include snorkeling because even with my open water certification in-hand, I haven’t been too keen to get back under the water. Not exactly sure why, but let’s just say that diving isn’t my bag. We hooked up with One Ocean Diving for a day on the sea where Jen would dive and I would snorkel. Not that I was diving, nor do I have much to compare it to, but I could see from how things were going that Jen and I were definitely spoiled diving in Thailand. In Thailand, everything was well planned out, organized, and easy. Here in Zanzibar, it all seemed a little rushed. In Thailand, you couldn’t get the guides and instructors to shut up; if they weren’t explaining the upcoming dive, then they were simply talking about diving (At the time though, it was a bit much for me . . .). In Zanzibar, sure you got the basic prep talk, but beyond that, not much.

Going into the day, I fully assumed I would be snorkeling alone as I was basically an add-on to a diving excursion. To my surprise, I was joined by an Australian woman and we even had a guide. Not being the most experienced swimmer, the thought of having a guide made me worry that I would have to follow some set out path and that I would be struggling to keep up. Nope. The “guide” was essentially just a third snorkeler and we were pretty much left to do and see whatever we could. After Jen’s two dives, I gathered that while she enjoyed the day, she definitely missed the warm waters of Similan Islands. Her chattering teeth were a dead giveaway.

We ended up meeting some nice people on the boat and seeing that Zanzibar’s a fairly small island, we happily ran into a few them again during our stay. One night at the Foridhani Gardens, we ran into Jean-Phillipe and Jean-Francios, two actuaries from Quebec. (Yes, those are their real names.) These guys were traveling for 6 months and were following our path in a way, only backwards. While they had done Egypt and some other countries beforehand, they were here in East Africa first and then heading to South East Asia. It was nice to be able to talk about Asia once again and we tried to give them some helpful tips. We couldn’t help but laugh a bit listening to them introduce themselves to locals with their francophone accents and so similar names. Challenging communication for your average Tanzanian.

Swahili Food

On one of the few nights that we were able to tear ourselves away from the seafood smorgasbord, we hooked up with Mark, Jen’s diving buddy, who was an American teaching in Dar Es Salem. Being that Mark had visited the island before, we trusted him in choosing a place to eat. Mark lead us to the footsteps of dimly lit house, and we had arrived at Two Tables. If ever there was a place more appropriately named, this was it. This place was exactly that, two tables set up outside a local family’s living room. They offered up authentic Swahili style cooking served family style. Being just the three of us, we ended up sharing a table with an older English couple and their adult son, who was also working in Tanzania. The conversation was interesting, and the food was fabulous. The dishes weren’t anything fancy, just simple and very, very tasty Swahili “comfort” food; soups, donuts, fish, meatballs, etc. expertly sauced and spiced. There were about six courses in all. Of course the night could’ve been a bit better had we remembered to bring some wine.

Spice Tour

In the past, Zanzibar was independent from Tanzania (then Tanganyika) and had a thriving economy based on two industries, the spice trade and the slave trade. While I’m generally opposed to organized tours, we’d heard that the spice tour was not to be missed. So, we joined a tour organized through our hotel. Not to be missed . . . Really?! Don’t get me wrong, it definitely had its moments, such as the part of the tour that actually had to do with spices, but overall, it was very mediocre. The way the tour was sold to us was that it was supposed to show the “ins and outs” of the spice trade. Jen and I were under the impression that this meant learning how the spices were picked, collected, gathered and processed for use. Not the case. While we did see many interesting spices in their natural form, the only aspect of the “process” that we saw was when they led us to a stand selling the finished product. The day turned out to be more of a general introduction to Zanzibar than a spice tour; including a visit to an old bath house, a remote beach, and an underground cave that was used to house slaves illegally after the slave trade was abolished.

Stone Town Tour

Another day, Jen and I decided to do a guided walking tour of the city. While we had done some exploring of the town on our own, we saw so much more with someone who actually knew where they were going. Eventually we made our way to the market area, which is always an interesting sight in any town. Whereas in some markets basically everything you can imagine is under one roof, here the markets were separated by products. The first stop was the chicken market which was basically just a room filled with cramped, caged chickens. Here you had the option of buying the chicken live or having someone butcher it for you. Our guide said everything was fair game in terms of picture taking, but I’m pretty sure the three men out back covered in blood from cutting the heads off chickens didn’t really appreciate their photo op with Jen.

Next up was the fish market. While the stench was not the most appealing, it was cool to see all the types of sea life that were being caught and sold. As our guide explained, the fish market is usually much crazier than what we were seeing. In addition to the numerous stalls, the market has a seafood auction which was not operating. We were in Zanzibar during Ramadan and Eid, the festival celebrating the end of Ramadan. Our guide explained that chicken and not fish, was customary for breaking fast.

The guided walk ended with a tour of the grounds of the old slave market. Much of the evidence of this unfortunate part of the island’s history had been destroyed with the collapse of the slave trade, but there were a few reminders. In the middle of the grounds was a large tree which was used to chain up slaves being displayed for sale. The routine was that when chained to the tree, the slave would be whipped. The less the slave cried or gave indication of pain, the tougher the slave was deemed and therefore commanded a greater price. Inside the main building, we were led to the old slaves’ quarters. Best described as cellars, you could see how the rooms would’ve been an overcrowded, damp, and lacking air. These two rooms, while not in their original state, served as reminders of the horrific living conditions that these individuals endured.

Eid

The last of our time in Zanzibar coincided with Eid, which celebrates the end of Ramadan. When we first arrived on the island, and tried to go for lunch, we were quickly reminded that we were in the midst of the Islamic month of fasting . Because the island is predominantly Muslim, most of the restaurants were closed during the day. As such, our options for places to eat and hangout were somewhat limited during daylight but thankfully there were a few nice places catering to tourists. Talking to locals around town, you could definitely feel the sense of excitement as Ramadan was coming to an end. While we initially thought the celebrations would take place more in homes and would be limited to family members only, we were repeatedly assured that anyone could partake. In reality, it was almost impossible to avoid the chaos.

Asking around, we learned that there were two main areas where people gathered for Eid celebrations. One was the Forodhani Gardens and the other was a field just outside of Stone Town. On one of my all too few runs that I’ve been on since traveling, I happened to locate the field where they were setting up some booths. Booths not unlike what you’d see at the Stampede, where food would be sold and games would be played. But at the same time, these booths were much more, let’s just say . . . rustic. Seeing the dozen or so booths being set up, I figured this to be the second site.

On the first night of Eid, we started out by heading to the Forodhani Gardens to check out the celebrations there and to grab a bite to eat. The place was packed. Whereas during the week we’d had no problem ordering and securing a spot on the one of the public benches, now you could barely even walk. When we did finally secure a seat, we were treated to some great people watching. It was nice to see all the families out and about sharing a meal together. It was also fun to check out what the people were wearing as everyone, from the smallest of babies to the oldest of grandmas and grandpas, were dressed in their best traditional attire.

After dinner, we headed out of Stone Town towards the second site to check out what the scene was like there. While I was almost positive that we weren’t just heading to an empty grass field in the middle of night, I was starting to doubt myself as there was very little foot traffic heading in that direction. And, the road was pitch dark. As we approached though, it became clear we had found the right place. The dozen or so booths that I saw the previous day had multiplied to over a hundred. In both of our minds, we were expecting some sort of traditional celebration or performance. We couldn’t have been more wrong. As we entered the grounds and looked around we both realized that this was a fair; the Zanzibar equivalent to the Stampede grounds, minus the rodeo and of course the booze. In many ways though, this was much more chaotic than any night at the Stampede.

Making up the majority of the grounds were stalls selling food, but as we delved into the crowds of people, we started to see much, much more. Similar to North American fairs, there were games where people could win prizes. However, all that they needed was an empty Fanta bottle and some discarded plastic packaging and they had themselves a ring toss game. Similar to back home, they had photo booths where “professionals” would take your photo in front of different backdrops. The difference is that back home, where getting a family photo with a western backdrop is just for fun, people here are dressed in their very best for this photo because this is their once a year chance to have one done. I was surprised (and excited) to see that they had similar gambling games to back home. At least I thought they did. I was pretty sure all I had to do was place a bet on one of the many symbols on the table and if that same symbol showed up on one of the dice, I would win. Playing what loose change I had and not winning a turn, I decided maybe the only rule was to take the foreigners bet no matter what symbol showed up.

In general, everything was kind of like what you’d expect to see at a fair back home, just much, much more basic. It’s like ordering lobster at a fancy seafood restaurant compared to ordering the lobster sandwich at Subway. The place was fun and chaotic at the same time. It was fun because it was absolutely packed with locals all wanting to have a good time. To be honest, it was also a bit scary because from what I could see, Jen and I made up half of all the tourists at this place.

As we made our way through the maze of people, it was shocking to see how many grease fires they had going on the open grass (for cooking). And it’s not like these fires were in isolated areas, they were right out in the open, on the ground, often bordering the foot traffic. Thank God nobody was drinking. You don’t want any stumbling drunks around that kind of set up.

As we exited the food stalls, we came across a series of fenced off areas. At first glance, we had no idea what was going on. As we scoped them out, we deduced that they were makeshift “clubs”, each playing their own brand of dance music. We could see people going in and out but we were unable to catch a glimpse inside. It was all a bit intimidating but eventually our curiosity got the better of us and we made our way through one of the entrances. The place turned out to be no frills and except for a few lights and speakers, the place was just a field, a fence, and a few hundred people dancing. We joined the party and ended up dancing for awhile (I use the term “dancing” very loosely in describing what I was doing).

Moving On

In total we spent a week in Zanzibar and while it didn’t turn out to be your typical island holiday (we spent a total of 3 hours, maybe, at the beach), we did end up seeing and doing quite a bit. Highlights for me were of course the cheap and tasty seafood, and the Eid celebrations. In terms of Stone Town itself, I think we would have appreciated it more had we not visited Lamu first. Both towns are old Swahili style but that’s pretty much where the comparisons end. Yes, in both towns, street touts are always trying to get your business. The difference was that in Lamu, even after guys knew we weren’t interested in a tour, they were still super nice and friendly. In Zanzibar, most of the guys tried to make us feel guilty for not supporting them, or just got outright angry. To me, it was the people of Lamu that made it such a great place to visit. Don’t get me wrong, we really enjoyed our time on Zanzibar. But if you want to win my heart, and I mean really win my heart, you’ve got to give me a freaking donkey.

It’s almost 3 months that we’ve been in East Africa and it’s kind of sad that we’re leaving. We’ve done some amazing things, things that I’ll never forget. From our very first game drive in the Masai Mara, where we saw elephants, giraffes, and lions, I knew that East Africa was going to be special. To me, it’s the underlying “wildness” of it all that I love. It’s hard to describe. In some ways, East Africa is everything I thought it would be but in many ways, it’s very different. The terrain and the wildlife, while spectacular, were somewhat expected. What surprised me is how the people have treated us. Reading our guide books, it’s as if they’ve gone overboard in painting the picture of how dangerous everything is over here. Of course, we’ve encountered some shady characters but no more than you would anywhere else. Overall, the people here have been warm and friendly to us and we’ve been lucky enough to have met some really genuine individuals. In many cases, it’s the people more so than the location or the activity that have made it enjoyable. Case in point, our trip up Mt. Kilimanjaro. Without our great guides and crew, the trip would’ve been so much less enjoyable.

We’re off to South Africa next, with Pretoria being our first stop. (Luckily, we are traveling by air this time as well.) While I’m excited for some of the western comforts that South Africa has to offer, I am sad to say good-bye to East Africa.

More photos at http://gallery.me.com/adamschen

Kilimanjaro, September 12 (Jen)

2009-10-10T08:34:00.000-07:00

Getting There

After our Uganda Safari, we spent a couple of nights in Entebbe and Kampala getting ourselves organized for the next step of our journey.

We knew we wanted to climb Kilimanjaro, but hadn’t booked a way to Tanzania, nor the trek itself. Because the Kampala to Arusha bus ride is 20+ hours, we planned to treat ourselves to a plane ride. Unfortunately, the flights turned out to be prohibitively expensive for our backpacker budget so we ended up on the bus. Apart from the total mayhem of both the Ugandan and Kenya border posts (Muddy, crowded, totally disorganized shacks - Tanzania was nicely organized in comparison), the trip wasn’t nearly as bad as we had anticipated.

Learning from our experience on Mount Kenya, we decided to book with trusted and true IntoAfrica (www.intoafrica.co.uk). We also decided to stay at their recommended hotel, Ahadi Lodge (www.ahadi-lodge.com), which was $95 per night for the two of us, including breakfast and dinner. (We made this decision after realizing that the “budget” hotel was $65, including nothing. Oh, and I refused to camp directly before or after 7 days on the mountain.) As soon as we arrived, I knew we had made the right choice. The hotel was beautiful, the food was fabulous (like having dinner in a nice restaurant every night), and the rooms were super comfy. The best part about the hotel though was our friendly hostess Erica, an Australian grandmother who had moved to Arusha to be closer to her two granddaughters. (And obviously a successful business woman.)

We had a full day in Arusha prior to the hike, which was meant to ensure we were well rested after the long bus ride, all of our gear was in place, etc. In reality, we spent most of the day checking out the town, and searching for rain ponchos to cover our daypacks in case of rain. These were surprisingly difficult to find. We also received a crash course in Tanzania shopping. The first price we were quoted for rain ponchos was US$45 each. ($45! For a thin piece of plastic with a hood! Shocking.) In the end we did manage to find what we needed for the more reasonable price of $7. We also bought some exhorbently overpriced, second-hand knee high wool socks. I bargained very, very hard to pay $5 per pair instead of $30. ($5 for a pair of used socks! Also shocking.) Tourists definitely cause Tanzanian shopkeepers to see dollar signs.

Late in the afternoon, we finally got a visit from Julius of Masai Wanderings (IntoAfrica’s Tanzanian company). We had a very thorough briefing, where we also filled out a checklist of the gear we needed to borrow. (We’d been assured over the phone that this was possible.) Top of the list were down jackets and warm sleeping bags, but also on the list were rain proof pants, warmer gloves, and hiking poles. We were pretty frozen on Mount Kenya and didn’t want a repeat experience. After examining the checklist and making a call on his cell phone Julius, who was not actually going to be our guide for the trip, assured us that our guides and porters would provide all requested gear the next morning.

The Hike

After yet another hearty breakfast at Ahadi Lodge, we set off. It was about 1.5 hours drive to Machame Gate from Arusha. At the gate, we had to register while our “Kili Crew” organized all of the gear. Our crew consisted of 11 people. Yes, that is right, 11! We were also shocked. We had two guides, two cooks, and 7 porters. All for just Perry and I. They carried a table and chairs, all of our food, 3 tents (one a giant cooking tent), sleeping bags, backpacks, etc. We carried only a daypack. The park regulates that each porter can carry a maximum of 20kg. Although we felt pampered having so much help, we were at least happy to see that none of our guys appeared overloaded, unlike some other porters we saw struggling along the trail.

After signing in, we spent a bit of time waiting with a crowd of other hikers. Feeling a bit envious of everyone else’s hardcore gear, for example comparing their substantial waterproof boots with our ventilated day hikers, we casually asked Elibahati, one of our guides, about our borrowed gear. I.e. Should we pack it in our backpacks? Or did they already have that sorted? Etc. Elibahati gave us a completely blank stare. This is when we realized that we were in trouble. And, how stupid we were to wait until this point to confirm that these important items had in fact been provided. Seems we were relying a bit too heavily on our high opinion of IntoAfrica, and forgetting that we were still in Africa. The only gear they actually had for us were sleeping bags (Thank God!) and hiking poles. Elibahati did his best to rectify the situation by hiring “warm” jackets for us from some guys at the gate. (The rest we could make due without.) Perry ended up with a rainbow colored 80’s fleece made for a very large man, and I with a forest green, faux-fur hooded parka made for a very short, very wide woman (both secondhand of course, at $30 for the week). At least we’d be warm!

Up to the 6th day we enjoyed a fairly consistent routine. We rose early and were provided with a bucket of warm water for washing up. They actually provided this twice a day, morning and evening. I appreciated this little luxury so much. I appreciated it even more when I realized that at some of the camps our guys were walking up to an hour and a half each way to collect water, not to mention the effort of heating it up and delivering it to us. Once we were washed and ready to go, Elias, our “assistant cook”, served us breakfast while the porters packed up our tent. Everyday we had “uji” (hot, sweet, milky porridge made from millet), fruit, eggs, sausage, bread and hot tea. Our guides, Oforro and Elibahati, would then ensure that we walked “pole, pole” (slowly, slowly) to the next camp. Oforro had 15 years of experience as a Kilimanjaro guide and was strict about setting us a consistent pace. It felt very slow on day one, but by day five and six, we were pretty grateful for his advice.

We hiked about 4 or 5 hours each day, arriving at the next camp early to mid afternoon. Depending on the day, we’d either have already eaten a picnic lunch on the trail, or would be served a hot lunch upon arrival at camp. After taking photos of the views, which were spectacular, and different, at each camp, we took refuge from the cold in our tent. The first day I think the altitude was low enough that it could have been warm and enjoyable outside, but it actually was raining. On the subsequent days, even in sunshine I was cold. We’d venture out of our tent again for dinner, served up by Elias. It was incredible to watch, and to eat, the meals Goodluck, our cook, was able to prepare using only one burner. Soups, pasta with meat sauce, stews - really delicious food, and a different menu each night. Besides the tasty dishes, I relished our mealtimes because we ate in the tent where Goodluck also cooked. It was the only warm place available to us for 7 days. I actually felt a bit jealous of the porters who got to sleep in there. In truth though, our sleeping bags were very warm and we had much more comfortable nights than we had on Mount Kenya. The bottle of brandy that I had hidden in my backpack helped too.

As the altitude increased, two things happened. First, the views became more and more impressive. We were above the clouds, the sky was the most amazing blue and our goal, Uhuru Peak, the highest point on the continent, came into view. Second, the “facilities” became more and more vile. I swear, peeing on Kilimanjaro was honestly the most disgusting experience of my life. (And you pee often, since you are drinking liters and liters of water each day trying to avoid altitude sickness.) I’m not sure why squat style outhouses, which are really just tiny holes in the ground, are the answer for the hundreds of tourists who’ve no idea how to use them (i.e. how to hit the hole). I’m also not sure why these simple structures are apparently impossible to maintain to a standard where you don’t feel like the thing is going to collapse at any moment. And I’ve really no idea where the US$110 per person per day park entrance and camping fees go.

Although the entire trail was quite gorgeous, this was definitely not a hike where I felt like I was “getting away from it all” in nature. We were often following a long line of hikers and porters. The park does not restrict the number of people on the mountain, at least not on the Machame route, and as a result the route is extremely crowded. Elibahati estimated that there were 70 to 100 tourists at base camp the day we were there. Considering we had 11 crew for the two of us, you can deduce just how many people are moving from camp to camp on the same path each day. In addition to the crowd and resultant chatter, the porters and guides have no qualms with attaching radios to their backpacks and of course, using their cell phones. (Yes, there was actually reception in most spots.)

Summit

We reached base camp around mid-day five, and our summit hike was to start at midnight. That day, the camp was cold, cloudly, and crowded. Considering the number of tourists attempting the summit, Oforro recommended that we leave a bit early, at 11:30pm, to avoid the long line of hikers. Perry and I wholeheartedly agreed with this strategy.

We tried to nap in the afternoon, and directly after dinner we also attempted to sleep. By this time, tired and cold after 5 days on the mountain, I was at the end of my rope. I was fed up with the number of noisy people around, feeling constantly chilled, and most of all the absolutely disgusting outhouses. (Did I mention that these got worse at the higher altitude camps?) I had a bit of a breakdown in our tent, and told Perry that I would never, ever, ever do this again. He, not so much concerned with the facilities, had his mind focused on the summit hike. He mentioned that he was nervous; it’s a big deal, a high altitude, and you are hiking in the dark in the middle of the night! I scoffed at this and instantly rebuked him. “Do you see all of the out-of-shape people on this trail?”, I asked. “Anyone can do this apparently!” “Besides, when was the last time you were unable to complete a six hour hike?!”, I shouted at him with sarcasm. After this tantrum, I promptly fell asleep, while Perry sat up unable to catch a wink.

We woke up at 11pm for tea and biscuits. I was sleepy, but in a much better mood after my little nap. This was it! We suited ourselves up. I had on 3 pairs of wool socks (2 of which were the second hand knee highs), lulu capri pants, hiking pants, about 5 shirts, a fleece, a rain jacket, a tuque, and of course the “Golden Girls” parka we had hired on day one. I looked really fab. (I say “fab” because I think this is the type of word people who dress this way would use . . .) Perry looked equally ridiculous, but we both felt warm.

“Pole, pole” we started out. It was dark, steep, rocky, windy, and cold. Once we reached around 5000 meters, we both started to feel fatigued and dizzy. (Perhaps me more so than Perry.) I needed the hiking poles just to keep myself upright. I had that feeling you get after 3 (or more . . .) glasses of wine on Friday night after a long work week. Your eyes just want to shut and you could fall asleep in any spot, but you fight hard to keep awake so as to not miss out on the party. In this case, I felt like I could have curled up on any rock along the way and fallen into a peaceful sleep. I likely would have frozen to death had I done this however. This was no ordinary 6 hour hike, and I quickly realized how absurd my previous night’s comments had been. I was extremely thankful for the candies I had in my pocket (I could actually feel a burst of energy from the sugar), and for Oforro’s regular huddle breaks. I always thought that huddling from the cold was just an excuse for teenagers to get close to each other in the winter, but it really worked!

Elibahati climbed with us as well, but only made it halfway up. He had been battling a bad cold and sore throat the entire trip. I think he pushed himself as far as he did only to ensure that we were both alright with the climb before heading back down himself. Knowing we would have two guides with us, Perry and I had discussed previously that if one of us couldn’t make it, the other should push on to the summit alone. Now we had to make it, or not make it, together. I took Elibahati turning back as his vote of confidence that we would make it.

And we did make it! The last bit from Stella Point to Uhuru Peak was the toughest, of course. Reaching Uhuru peak was a huge accomplishment for us both. Perry was emotional and we were both very proud of ourselves and of each other. And, extremely thankful for Oforro. Not only were we the second group to arrive at the summit, we arrived exactly at the moment of sunrise; perfectly timed, perfectly paced. I guess that is what 15 years of experience does. You can see in the photos that the first couple are in the dark, and by the last at the summit, it is light. The views were absolutely stunning. The photos give you an idea, but truly don’t do the experience justice. It was overwhelmingly beautiful. While I still think I wouldn’t do this particular trek over again, I do believe it was worth the effort for those moments at Uhuru Peak.

We spent only a short time at the summit, because it was still very cold. Then came the long walk/slide back down to base camp, which took about 3 hours. The weather was in our favor. The sun was shining and it was absolutely gorgeous and warm that entire sixth day. On our way down, we passed loads of people still on their way up. Most were determinedly trudging along, a few were collapsed beside the path, and one or two had vomited on the path. We were mostly just happy not to be them. Lucky for us, dizziness was really the only altitude effect we had experienced. Arriving back at camp, we were greeted with a mug of juice, and big hugs and congratulations from our crew. I was touched by how excited they were for us. In reality, these guys have likely seen dozens and dozens, if not hundreds, of mzungu tourists summit over the years. (Plus they did all the hard work of carrying all our gear!) They still mustered up the fanfare for our sake, which was very sweet and much appreciated.

Although we had already hiked around 9 hours, our day was not yet done. After a short rest and a meal we embarked on the approx. 4 hour descent to Mweka camp, where we spent our last night on the mountain. By the time we arrived, I was completely exhausted. However, noticing that this camp sold Kilimanjaro beer (very tasty by the way), we found the energy to share a cold one, and the remainder of my secret bottle of brandy, with our crew prior to crashing for the night.

Recovering

Day seven, after breakfast, our crew was eager to get down the mountain and home to their families. We were absolutely on the same page. (For the past six days, the shower at Ahadi Lodge had been on my mind.) Directly after breakfast we tipped all of our guys. I was really thankful for our crew and wanted to make sure they knew it. They were truly a fantastic group of guys; hardworking, friendly, and honest. They then surprised us with a “thank you” of their own. Who knew that all of these big strong guys were also amazing singers! They sang a few “mountain songs” for us , had a bit of a dance party, and then ran off down the mountain. (I have video . . . it’s fabulous but too slow to upload. You’ll just have to wait.) Those crew who shared our ride from the gate back to Arusha sang all the way there as well. I think they were as happy and relieved as I was that the week was successful, and finished.

I could not have asked for a better place to return to than Ahadi Lodge. Good company, a hot shower, movies on TV, big comfy bed, and delicious food were waiting for us. (I couldn’t help but compare with our overnight bus experience after finishing Mount Kenya! We had definitely learned our lesson . . .) We stayed a restful two nights at Ahadi, while Erica helped us to sort out a flight and hotel in Zanzibar. This time there was no question on transportation. We flew to Zanzibar where we would rest for a week before heading to visit Lantie, Anneri, and Petrone’ in Pretoria, South Africa. (Lantie had cricket match tickets on Sep 24th . . . For once, we actually had a deadline. I’ll miss this kind of “deadline” I think, upon my return to reality . . . )

For photos of our climb, see http://gallery.me.com/adamschen

Our Route (From Masai Wanderings/IntoAfrica)

Day 1 From Arusha drive to the Machame Park gate, then a gentle climb up through the original montane forest, carpeted with unique "busy lizzie" flowers, begonias and ferns. First camp amongst the giant heather at 3,000m. Ascent of 1,200m and 5-6 hours walking.

Day 2 Emerge from the giant heather zone and hike through fine open moorland to camp by the Shira Cave at 3,840m. Herds of eland up here (& occasional lion!) and there are fascinating geological features in the old volcanic caldera which can be viewed during a half hour optional walk in the afternoon. Ascent 840m and 4-5 hours walking.

Day 3 From Shira, climb towards the main peak Kibo, with the western glaciers clearly visible across the rugged high-altitude desert of volcanic rocks and boulders. Skirting around its base and under the imposing Western Breach, descend into the sheltered Barranco Valley for mid-way camp at 3,950m. 5-7 hours walking and only 110m total ascent - but having climbed higher and dropping back down assists acclimatisation.

Day 4 Up the steep Barranco Wall with some sections of very easy scrambling and drop down again to the Karanga Valley. This is a short walking day, around 3 hours, and again you climb about 300m but drop back down again to around 4,000m. There’s an optional further acclimatisation hike in afternoon up onto the scree below the glaciers.

Day 5 Up to a new camp about 100m above Barafu Hut perched high on a rocky bluff at 4,000m. Fantastic views across to Mawenzi peak, and a bit less to climb tomorrow morning! This is another short walking day, about 4 hours with a 700m height gain, and time for a good rest in the afternoon immediately before the hard summit day.

Day 6 A bracing 1am start to climb the steep frozen scree. This is unavoidable on any route but we aim to reach Stella Point on the crater rim for sunrise - another 40 mins and you’re at the highest point on the continent, usually in warm sunshine. We return on the Mweka descent route. Walking time 7 hours and 1,300m ascent to the summit, 5-6 hours and 2,800m descent to our camp in a clearing amongst the giant heather at Mweka. This is a long and hard day - you’ll feel tired but absolutely ecstatic after you’ve done it.

Day 7 A 4-5 hours descent through the forest to Mweka Gate to collect our certificates and meet our vehicle. Return to Arusha, arriving early to mid afternoon.

Uganda Safari, August 31 (Jen)

2009-10-01T23:10:00.000-07:00

After spending more than enough time experiencing Kampala (i.e. boozing with our new friends), Perry and I finally got ourselves organized to move on and start exploring the rest of the country.

After a bit of contemplation, we decided to spring the USD500 each for mountain gorilla tracking permits, one of Uganda’s most famous attractions. There are only approximately 750 mountain gorillas in the entire world, all living in protected areas of Rwanda, Uganda, and DRCongo, and certain groups have been habituated for tourism. We didn’t want to let this once in a lifetime opportunity pass us by.

Because we are such last minute (non) planners, we determined that our best option to secure one of the coveted permits, and to get to Bwindi Impenetrable National Park in a reasonable amount of time, would be to use a company called “Gorilla Tours” recommended in our LP. (We met a couple who had actually booked their permits through the Uganda Wildlife Authority in November of 2007!) Admittedly, we potentially could have made it to Bwindi on our own using public transport, but reading the directions in our LP made my head spin. It seemed like about 10 different connecting buses, “matatus”, and potential hitch-hiking that I just wasn’t into. (Are we getting soft? Maybe. Or maybe we always were . . . )

Since the company is actually Dutch, and most of the customers book online prior to arrival in Uganda, I think they were quite surprised when we showed up on their suburban doorstep looking to enquire about a trip. (It was interesting though to see how the “other half” lived in comparison to the Kampala neighborhood our hotel was in . . .) After our varied experiences in Africa, we both didn’t feel comfortable booking anything without a face to face meeting. Lucky for us we had done our internet research prior to the visit and managed to get the company to stick to their group rate for a scheduled one week trip they were advertising online, even though they had no one else booked at the moment. This meant that Perry and I ended up with our very own car and driver, for the price of an 8 person tour. Fabulous!

We were a little surprised when Nathan, our driver/guide, picked us up in a 11 seat van, but it had 4WD and a pop-up roof for game drives so it suited us just fine. Well, at least on first glance it did, as I’ll get to later. In any event, it didn’t take us long to realize that while having a “driver” seemed excessive to our Canadian minds, there was no way that either of us was qualified to tackle Ugandan roads. I’m so glad we didn’t attempt to rent a car and self-drive . . .

Kibale Forest National Park

Our first stop was Kibale Forest National Park, which is meant to have the highest density of primates in Africa. For us, Kibale’s draw was the opportunity for chimpanzee tracking.

The drive from Kampala took us about 9 hours, including a couple of stops. First stop was lunch, one of the tasty, plentiful, and cheap lunch buffets that are everywhere in Uganda. The spread usually includes “matoke” (mashed plantains), sweet potatoes, irish potatoes, ugali, kale, avacado, salad, and usually some chicken, beef, and/or goat in soups or curry sauces. A fairly healthy selection, and usually tasty, minus the ugali of course (that’s just me . . .). Second stop was for some “minor” car repairs. Turns out the brake lights on our van weren’t working. Now, this is definitely a problem wherever you are, but here in Africa where everyone is driving, let’s call it “extremely aggressively”, it is a bit of a death wish. We were thankful Nathan noticed the issue, and more than happy to wait while it was fixed.

We arrived at our tented camp around 4pm or so and were welcomed by three guys in uniform who carried our bags and brought us juice. Luxury! I have to say that I have become happily accustomed to the “welcome drink”, which is consistently provided upon arrival at most accommodation here in East Africa. The drives are normally dusty, hot, and long, so a glass of fresh passion, orange, mango or other fruit juice is so fabulous.

The camp itself, Kibale Nature Lodges, was really quaint and prettier than those we had stayed at in Kenya. The bathroom was less advanced, but in a way cuter. We had a “bush toilet” where instead of flushing, you just shoveled in a few scoops of dirt each time. Ingenious. There was no running water, so in order to take a shower, the staff would heat water for us and fill up a sort of tank, letting us know when it was ready for us to turn the shower on. The water lasted maybe 4 minutes. Those who know me and my too-long showers at home will wonder how I managed this. However, I tended to feel a little guilty for all of the work that went into my wash. So, I learned to make it quick, because once your water runs out, it is out. There are no second chances for rinsing off that soap. Unless of course you want to be the high maintenance jerk asking the poor guys to heat and carry more and more water. (I didn’t! I swear!)

The other thing which was lovely about camp, and seems to be unique to Uganda, was the wake up call we received each morning, at this and all of the camps during the week actually. One of the guys would come by and call out “good morning” to us, leaving us hot tea and biscuits outside our tent. How spoiled are we! I’m trying to convince Perry this would be a nice tradition for him to take up, but he hasn’t come around just yet.

We spent two nights at this camp, but really only one day of activities. The morning was spent chimp tracking, and the afternoon on a “swamp walk”. The chimpanzee tracking was amazing! We were lucky in that there was only four of us; Perry and I, and a nice older couple from Washington D.C. The guys at the hotel warned us to wear neutral colors, long sleeves and long pants, and to tuck in our pants to our socks to avoid “safari ants”. We were geared up for an arduous hike. In reality, we had walked not even 15 minutes when we heard the first chimpanzee sounds. They are loud! They use vocalization and also bang on trees to communicate with each other over distances. (Our guide also used these sounds to track them.) We saw one male actually cross the road (a photo opportunity which I unfortunately missed because I had the camera on the wrong setting . . . oops!) and basically followed him to a larger group. We saw a mom and baby playing and the baby breast feeding. At one point, there was a chimpanzee sleeping on the ground a meter or two away from us and we didn’t even notice him until he got up! Overall, we saw about 15 individuals, and we were allowed to spend an hour with them. It was really incredible to just hang out and watch them. You feel like they are really making eye contact, interacting with you. The pictures didn’t turn out so well because of the lighting (you can’t use flash of course), but you can still make out some of their antics and funny facial expressions.

After lunch back at camp, we went for a walk in the Bigodi Wetland Sanctuary, a community project nearby. The swamp, called the “Magombe Swamp” provides the opportunity to see loads of bird species, butterflies, and more primates, mostly various types of monkeys (black and white colobus, red colobus, red tailed monkey, grey cheeked mangabey, etc.). We saw all of the above, plus papyrus, which I had never imagined what it looked like, and of course baboons. People don’t get so excited about baboons because they are everywhere and considered a bit like pests, but I think they are so cute and hilarious to watch. The walk was just that, a leisurely stroll, boardwalked over the actual swampy bits, and of course we were guided by a local man (you can’t do anything without a guide in Africa it seems). Our guide was called Julius, and the best story he told us was about the hornbills. According to Julius, hornbills are life partners, always together. Even if one bird dies, the other will never find a new mate. How romantic! Julius found it funny that Perry and I were just as impressed with the baboons and monkeys as we were with rare birds such as the great blue turaco, which apparently some people make this trip solely for. It was a nice way to spend the hot afternoon, and we were happy that the entrance fees, guide fees, and profits from our inevitable souvenir purchases were going towards useful projects in the local village.

Queen Elizabeth National Park

We left the Kibale area early the next morning. Our destination was Queen Elizabeth National Park, which was actually just a bonus for us due to booking the week long safari, as we hadn’t originally had it on our Uganda destination list. On the way we stopped to see various crater lakes around Kibale NP. I don’t think this was on the original agenda, but as soon as I enquired about them, Nathan made a point of giving us a chance for a stroll and a look. Accordingly, a couple of days into the trip, we were feeling lucky with Nathan, who was really friendly, not intrusive at all, and very professional.

The best thing about QENP was our accommodation. It was the most lovely place. I wanted to stay longer. We had a little “bandas” (i.e. cabin sort of structure) overlooking the Kazinga Channel. Directly in front of our balcony, albeit a safe distance away, was a favorite spot for hippos. There was not one time during our stay when there were not hippos bathing in that spot. We could just sit and watch them, and we could hear them at all times. It was really amazing! Although we didn’t actually experience any of them getting uncomfortably close, we had an escort to and from dinner each night just to be sure. I especially enjoyed the morning tea wake up calls at this spot. Sitting there in the early morning, drinking my tea, listening to the hippos and watching them entering back into the water after a night of feeding, I couldn’t help but feel so so lucky with my life and my surroundings. Add to this the absolutely magnificent menu and chef, the nightly campfires, the cute outdoor shower, and the fact that everything was shiny and new (the place had only opened a couple of months prior), and I was in heaven.

As far as activities at QENP, we did a couple of game drives, and a boat trip on the Kazinga Channel, which connects Lake Edward and Lake George. I have to admit that Perry and I were both a bit “ho-hum” about the game drives, as we had so recently been spoiled with wildlife in Masai Mara. However, you don’t really tire of seeing huge wild elephants and their young crossing the road in front of you. We actually saw a baby elephant breast feeling from its’ mother. I am consistently surprised at how the animals go about their lives without barely a nod in the direction of our safari vehicles. On one of our game drives we had an interesting park guide who was adept at making up information regarding animal habits, etc. Some of the things he told us made no sense at all, or were in direct contradiction to what we’d learned previously. We just smiled, nodded, and said “Oh really? How interesting!”. Afterwards Nathan commented that some guides just “talk too much”.

Matthew, the inaccurate park guide, was interesting nonetheless, not due to his knowledge of the wildlife and their habits, but because of his experiences as a park ranger throughout Uganda’s history (he had about 20 years experience). He told us about how during certain periods the rangers just gave up and could do nothing because there were so many poachers who were just better armed than they were. A sad truth, which is evidenced by the lower concentrations of wildlife in the park. Matthew wasn’t all shining armor, wildlife protector though, as he tried to convince Nathan to go off the marked path so that Perry and I could take closer pictures of some lions; an action that would surely invite hefty fines if caught. (We assured Nathan that we already had more than enough lion photos and were happy to observed from a distance . . .)

The Kanzinga Channel boat trip was interesting because it allowed us to see more and more hippos and buffalos in the water, as well as the chance to spot crocodiles. In actuality we only saw one tiny croc, which we of course zoomed right in on to get a photo. The interesting thing about the channel is that it’s current changes direction depending on the lake levels.

The boat also went past some of the local villages situated near the water. Certain local people, who inhabited the area long before establishment of the national park, are allowed to reside within park boundaries. However, they can only fish. They cannot grow anything or have any domestic animals. All of their needs must be met by selling fish at market, which seems a tough existence to me. We saw certain very brave locals fishing and actually getting out of their boats into the water right beside groups of hippos! Nathan’s comment was, “Those boys really don’t value their lives”. I tend to agree with him, as I felt the one big hippo who swam up from under our larger boat carrying probably around 20 tourists The locals were in a tiny wooden canoe. Nathan told us that approximately 15 people die each month in the area due to run-ins with hippos and crocs in the water. (We didn’t really have an opportunity for verify that number . . .)

The absolute most exciting part of the boat trip though, was when the wind came up and the weather completely changed in about 30 seconds. One minute I was completely sweating and wondering how we’d managed to end up on the sunny side of the boat with absolutely no shade, and the next minute I couldn’t get my rain jacket out of my backpack fast enough. It was incredible how the change happened so fast.

Bwindi Impenetable National Park

Next morning we set out for Bwindi Impenetrable, home of the mountain gorillas and our ultimate destination. It was not reached without incident.

First stop was a small village where Nathan wanted to buy some meat for his father-in-law, who lives in Kisoro, the town nearest to Bwindi where we would also be staying. No problem of course, we said, we would wait in the van. The day was hot as usual, so I had my window open. With our experiences in Uganda to date being so friendly and favorable, I saw no reason to close the window when we stopped. That is, until a scraggly looking man came up to it and thrust a banana at me, stating, “Take this banana or I will beat you!”. Strange. Not in the habit of accepting anything from crazy strangers, I did nothing and attempted to close my window. The man continued to carry on, yelling and throwing bananas at us and our vehicle. The other locals around seemed amused, and mildly embarrassed, by the incident. A few of them tried to chase the crazy guy away, but to no avail. The tipping point for poor Nathan was when the guy finally picked up a rock as if to throw it at us as well. Nathan had to abandon his thoughtful gesture, hop back in the drivers’ seat, and take off in fear that this crazy man would damage his vehicle, and perhaps also his clients. In truth, there are quite a few “crazies” to be spotted be the roads and in the small villages along the way. Nathan blames the local brew for their behavior, and apparent mental issues.

Safe and sound on the road, we had a bit of a laugh and continued on our way. Perry and I were settled back into our books, when and hour or so later we all felt and heard some sort of crack/snap/pop coming from our vehicle. I thought we had popped a tire. Nathan pulled over to take a look and although all of the tires looked fine, it didn’t take him long to figure out the problem. We had actually broken the rear axle. Not that I know anything about mechanics, but this didn’t seem to be a minor problem! I can’t say whether the break down was due to poor vehicle maintenance (perhaps the brake lights were just foreshadowing?), Nathan’s aggressive and very fast driving (skilled, but aggressive), or the general atrocious state majority of the roads are in, but at this point it didn’t matter. We were hours from Kisoro and stranded in the middle of nowhere.

In about 3 minutes we were surrounded by onlooking children, but not one motorist stopped to see if we were alright, and not one person walking by offered assistance. One girl asked if I would give her my clothes, and one lady assured me “not to fear”, which I hadn’t until she said that. (Fear what!?! Is there something to fear? Oh dear . . .) Luckily for us though, we had Nathan. I now believe that he is the handiest man on earth. After about an hour, the use of various large stones, an archaic jack, and what I could see was extreme and sweaty effort, he somehow managed to fix the car using only a stick and piece of rope. Yes, that is correct. He basically tied the axle back together with a stick and a piece of rope. It was unbelievable. We had to stop once to replace the stick, but apart from that his “repair job” got us the remainder of the distance, maybe 2 hours or so driving over horrendous roads full of pot holes, to Kabale, the next town. (Not to be confused with Kibale National Park, our first stop) Perry and I were pretty much useless to poor Nathan, apart from obediently searching for rocks and sticks when asked. It was slightly embarrassing.

The second most amazing thing about Nathan, apart from him fixing the vehicle with a rope and a stick, was how completely calm he remained the entire time. He did not show any frustration, although it took him numerous attempts to accomplish the job. He even dropped us off for lunch in Kabale first, taking time to introduce us to the waitress, rather than heading straight to the mechanic. It was commendable. I don’t believe I know anyone else who could be so cool in such a situation.

After leaving Kabale, we realized just how lucky we were that the breakdown happened when it did. The road from Kabale to Kisoro was actually the worst we’d been on in Uganda yet. It was a mountain road full of hairpin turns with no guard rails. And of course it was extremely bumpy. Perry told me to relax and “just trust” while Nathan sped along, trying to reach our destination before dark. Instead I hung on in terror for most of the ride. We eventually reached Kisoro safely around 7pm and checked into the Travelers’ Rest Hotel, which Dian Fossey (Gorillas in the Mist) had called her “second home”. If it was anything like it is now back then, I can see why. We enjoyed a fabulous 4 course meal by candlelight, in the company of a couple of other Canadians which was a nice treat, prior to heading straight for sleep in our comfy bed. We needed to rest up in anticipation of the next day’s gorilla tracking.

We started the day at 5am, breakfast at 5:30. We had a nearly two hour drive from Kisoro to the park entrance where our gorilla briefing was to take place at 7:45am. Now, you’d think that after the previous day’s heroics, I would never doubt Nathan, but I have to say I was a bit nervous that we were going to miss it. Our LP stresses how strict the process is, and that if you are late for the briefing they will just carry on without you, and will not refund your USD500 permit fee. I kept telling myself that Nathan had probably been there so many times that he knew the way and how to arrive on time. However when he started stopping for directions after about an hour and a half driving I was really concerned. Turns out I just needed to remember that, “There is no hurry in Africa”. We arrived no problem and were lucky to find that there were only 4 tourists tracking that day, including Perry and I. (Normally there are 8. How anyone could afford to not show up for something like that, I don’t know.)

Again, we were prepared for a strenuous hike through the rain forest. We were covered in deet, with our pants tucked into our socks and our shirts tucked into our beltless pants . . . looking really cool. We were excited and a bit nervous. “Could be up to 9 hours of steep climbing!” “Could be very tough going and you are likely to encounter rain!” I think all of this warning is really just conditioning so that you will feel justified to hire one of the local porters to carry your daypack. (Of course we did, and I once again ended up with a stinky bag . . . this time unnecessarily.)

In reality we walked only about hour and a half along an enjoyably moderate trail before finding the group we were in search of, which was comprised of around 35 gorillas. It was an eventful hike though, if not a strenuous one. We were happily walking along, chatting quietly to the English couple tracking with us (so as not to disturb any wildlife) when suddenly we heard a very loud crack, like a tree falling down. It was actually a tree being broken by the giant elephant which was about 10 feet away and moving towards us. Perry actually saw the elephant’s face come out from the foliage, but I didn’t. I just heard our guide yelling “Run! Run!” and saw the fellow with the big gun, who had been leading the way to protect us, fall flat on his bum in fear. Anyone who’s been hiking with me before knows that I have an irrational fear of hopping rocks over streams, even when the water is maybe a foot deep. Well, this time I had no trouble sprinting back, up hills and over water. Our “protector” eventually managed to fire a few shots in the air and scare the elephant away. We stopped for a few moments, and then continued on our way.

Our time with the gorillas was surreal. First you can see the trees and bushes moving, and you can hear them. The trackers vocalize as well to alert the gorillas to our presence. Then suddenly, a big silverback was right there in front of us, all relaxed and having his breakfast, i.e. devouring entire trees. We sat and watched that one silverback for maybe 15 minutes. I swear he looked directly into my eyes. We were less than 2 meters away from him, but he barely seemed to care that we were there. He would look over now and then, and just continue on with his feeding.

We were able to see females, males, and babies eating, drinking, playing, and crossing a stream. Perry saw one male actually “charge” one of our trackers, basically just making a show of strength to keep us in our place. He said he was glad the tracker was in between him and the gorilla. No kidding! The entire time was really an incredible, once in a lifetime experience. I thought the most interesting part about them was their facial expressions. They are so human! We were able to spend only about an hour with the gorillas, so as not to cause them stress. It went by really quickly, but the experience was fully worth the $500 spent.

On the hike back we ran into another elephant, thankfully this time at a safe distance. And, our guides pointed out a puff adder, one of the more deadly snakes, on the side of the path. Yikes!

On the drive back to Kisoro we also ran into another “crazy”. This time the man tried to play chicken with our vehicle, just planting himself in the middle of the road. I think I have mentioned how fast Nathan drives, so you can realize that this was really a bold thing to do. Nathan stopped just short of running him over, and when the man refused to move, he just went around him, clipping his face with the side mirror. A ranger, whom we were giving a ride back to Kisoro, reached out the window on the way by and punched the guy in the face as well! We are definitely not in “non-confrontational” Asia anymore . . .

We spent the remainder of the day at the Travelers Rest, doing just that, and reading books about gorillas. I intended to buy Gorillas in the Mist at that point, which I’m at the moment reading, but I think the book they had in the bar there was more interesting. It was a collection of Dian Fossey’s personal letters, and scandalous stories about her life’s affairs and temper tantrums. I didn’t realize that she was such a strange character. I suppose you have to be a little bit “unique” though, to spend years and years in the forest all on your own.

Home to Entebbe

Next day we made the long, dusty drive all the way back to Entebbe, which is a town on Lake Victoria just about 30 minutes from Kampala. Nathan thanked us over lunch for being relaxed clients and not giving him any “headaches”! He said that many of his clients are “complicated”, stopping short of implying that many tourists are unreasonable and demanding. We were glad he didn’t find us to be so. We tipped him generously, which he fully deserved not only due to his handy work keeping us on the road.

One sad observation from the week was the extent to which begging appeared to be the norm in the Ugandan countryside. Neither of us remember experiencing that, even in the poorest areas of Cambodia or Laos. It seemed that nearly all of the children we met would ask for money. Each time the car slowed down a bit we were greeted with chants of “Give me money!” and outstretched hands.

We saw a lot of gorgeous, green landscapes in Uganda, which surprised us. For some reason, green lush landscape is not what either of us envisioned prior to coming to Africa. We also enjoyed numerous stunning sunrises and sunsets, which is true of our entire trip really. I’ve never noticed before how gorgeous the sky is; the clouds, the colors, and the vastness of it. I don’t know if Asian and African skies are truly more spectacular than those at home, or if I just never took enough time to look up. I really feel like these past months have given me a chance to stop thinking, and truly enjoy my surroundings. One memory from this particular week in Uganda is brushing my teeth in our outdoor bathroom near QENP. I could hear sounds of birds and hippos, and a bright red bird flew down, landing on the fence in front of me. The bird just sat there looking at me while I brushed, and I thought how relaxed and happy I felt, just to be there brushing my teeth. After 7 months, I’m finally learning to slow down.

Uploading photos is a bit of a challenge in Africa, but I'm working on it. They will soon be at http://gallery.me.com/adamschen

Kampala and Jinja, August 24 (Perry)

2009-10-01T23:08:00.000-07:00

Leaving Kenya was a sad affair, but it was time to continue on. We debated a flight to Kampala from Nairobi since we’d taken so many (uncomfortable) buses over the past couple of weeks. In the end though, it just made economic sense to go overland. As opposed to Asia where bus travel, and especially overnight buses, were quite comfortable, bus travel in Africa is the exact opposite. Whether it’s the buses themselves, which could best be described as hand-me-downs, or whether it’s the roads themselves, which are generally atrocious, we were not looking forward to the next 15+ hours.

Despite its’ length, the bus journey turned out fine. It’s worth noting that although most people, at least in the cities, speak good English, there is still a general unwillingness by bus drivers to offer up any communication or information whatsoever . Case in point is our arrival at the Kenya-Uganda border crossing at around 5am. As you would suspect, both Jen and I were fast asleep. I’m fairly certain if I hadn’t gotten up to go to the washroom, and inquired where we were, we would have easily slept our way over the border. After seeing the chaos at both country’s immigration offices, not only could we have slept our way across, we likely could have simply walked on through as well.

Kampala

We arrived in Kampala a mere two hours behind schedule but considering all the pointless delays we had, it could have been much worse. I don’t mind the fact that we have to stop and drop off cargo along the way. That makes sense. However, it is very frustrating when the people who are attempting to load and unload large and heavy packages are doing so one-handed, unwilling to put down their bottle of coke. (Can such behavior really be considered “a cultural difference” which must be tolerated? I’m still deciding.) Driving through the streets of Kampala, my first impression was that it was not at all what I expected. For whatever reason, Lonely Planet’s description gave me thoughts of Vientiane, Laos; a sleepy capital with a European influence. I couldn’t have been more wrong. Sure, the city was built on 5 hills, similar to Rome, but that’s where similarities end. This was an African city full of people, dust, traffic, and chaos.

Kampala was, to us at least, one of the more insane cities we’d experienced. We decided to stay at Aponye Hotel mostly because of the LP description; clean rooms, midrange prices, and free wi-fi. Yeah, they mentioned that it was in a busy part of town, but really, how busy could it be? Upon arrival, it was evident that we were staying smack in the import/export center of Kampala. If you could imagine it, they were buying and/or selling it. Our “street” was essentially one giant market/warehouse with loads of foot, car, and transport truck traffic. The most amazing thing, other than the fact that real business took place amid all the chaos, was how the goods were being loaded. Having been in Africa for awhile now, we’ve gotten used to seeing people transport goods on their heads. Usually it’s a jerry can of water or a basket of fruit. When we saw a guy carrying 3 huge color TV’s stacked, and balanced, on his head, we were blown away.

Our initial idea for Uganda was that, excluding safaris, Jen and I would try to do as much on our own as possible. After Kenya, where it seemed that much of what we did was through an organized trip, we were ready to try to go about things on our own. In my mind that meant first exploring Kampala’s sights, just the two of us. In reality we spent a total of 5 days in Kampala, and saw very few of the city’s actual “tourist sights”. That’s not to say that we didn’t have a great time in the city, experiencing a side of East Africa we had not seen before.

After the long journey, both Jen and I are were looking to recharge our batteries, and to get caught up on our blogs and photos. (I know, it is ironic that I’m writing this Kampala blog over a month late . . .) For the first couple of days, our plan was to find a good internet cafe and to check out a bit of the city. In other words, I surfed the net while Jen uploaded photos the first day, and the next day was spent checking out local shops and art galleries (as well as a casino and the “mall”). We did manage to book our gorilla safari for the next week, but other than that, we weren’t the most productive. After having spent 48 hours not doing anything enlightening, we decided that a little bit of culture was in order. Referring to our LP, we learned that every Tuesday night, the Kampala National Theatre hosted an evening of local, live music by a group called “Percussion Discussion Africa”.

As our taxi drove up to the entrance of the National Theatre, I was surprised to see that the place was pretty much empty. We asked a few people, but no one had any idea as to what, if anything, was taking place that evening. We were starting to think that once again we had been let down by an out of date guide book. (Sad that the June 2009 version is in fact, consistently, outdated.) This time though, it was not LP’s fault. As we began to walk around and explore the venue we realized that we were just extremely early, once again. (Still can’t get used to African time.) As the two of us stood and waited for the show to start, we happened upon a conversation with a local, named Rony, and his friend Hazel, who was from the UK but working in Kampala. Hazel also happened to play saxophone in the band, so actually had a good reason to be so early (unlike us).

I have to admit, after a month of traveling in East Africa, I’d become quite skeptical of random locals trying to chat us up. I mean, I guess we’re interesting enough, but I’ve learned that most people don’t really care that much about getting to know us. In most cases, general conversation has always lead to the “Can you sponsor me to move to Canada?” question. (When I think about it though, I’d also be skeptical of any Joe who just walked up to me on the street at home, intent on striking up a conversation and “getting to know me” for no apparent reason.) As it turns out though, Rony was just a genuinely friendly guy. For the next couple of hours, we enjoyed a few beers and some great music, courtesy of Hazel and the band, Percussion Discussion.

For those of you who know me, it takes a lot to get me on the dance floor, and when I say a lot, I mean a lot of alcohol. In this case, all it took was some great, upbeat music and some persuasion on Rony’s part to get me grooving. I was so into it that I didn’t even notice when Rony went and sat back down, leaving me to dance by myself. In normal circumstances, I would welcome the appearance of a female dancer stepping in to save me from my loneliness and lack of dance moves. However, in this case, the female was one of the band’s dancers and there was absolutely no way I was going to try to dance with her. I’ve never seen such jiggle of the “junk” in my life and while I’m no “white boy”, I’m sure seeing me up there with her only strengthened the stereotype that “white boys can’t dance”.

During our entire stay in Kenya, I don’t think Jen and I were ever out at night past 9pm, partly due to safety concerns and partly to general tiredness from full days. So after the show, when Rony and Hazel asked us to join them for drinks, I was a bit weary at first. But, after little convincing, we were off to “Stake Out”. Not having planned for a night out, Jen and I stood out (more than usual). While the rest of the patrons were geared up for the a night out at the bar, Jen and I looked as if we were ready for safari, backpacks and all. When I first heard the name of the place, I thought “Steak Out” and figured the place would be more of a restaurant than a bar. I couldn’t have been more wrong. It was an open-air concept with a couple of bars and lounge areas, as well as a dance floor. For the most part it was standing room only because the place was absolutely packed. Turns out Jen and I had hooked up with somewhat of a “playa” in Rony because the guy knew pretty much everyone. As such, we met all types of people, from some of Uganda’s bigger hip-hop stars to some really nice locals and expats. In particular, both Jen and I got along very well with Angela, a Kampala local who we’d end up spending more time with during our stay.

Considering it was a Tuesday night, I figured the party would break up as we hit the 2am mark. In Kampala, apparently that is not how things work. Note also that we weren’t hanging out with university kids or part-timers; these people held regular nine-to-five jobs. The sad thing is that these guys were more eager to continue the night than we unemployed travelers were. By this time though, after enough “Nile Special” (beer) to forget all about our embarrassing attire, Jen and I were definitely keen as well. I guess the Tuesday routine in Kampala is Stake Out to start the night out, then off to “Silk” for some real clubbing. YIKES! The club was pretty much what I expected . . . dark, crowded, and a lot of really good dancers. And dance we did! For the life of me, I can’t remember the last time I danced so much and had so much fun doing it. It was probably the fact that if you weren’t dancing, you were either in the washroom or on your way out. You couldn’t avoid it if you tried.

With all that dancing and drinking it was easy to see where the night went and Jen and I stumbled into our room around 5am that morning. I think Jen was feeling a bit homesick because she got the idea that it was a great time to call her sister Karrie, back in Calgary. In terms of time zones, it was a great time to call as it was around 9:00 pm for Karrie. However, for Jen, perhaps not. Let’s just say that it’s a good thing skype long distance is so cheap. I’m sure she passed out within 5 minutes of conversation.

As you would suspect, the next day was spent doing not much. While we weren’t extremely hungover or anything, we were definitely tired. While we did have the option to join our new friends for another night out (where they get energy, I’ve not idea . . .), neither of us was in the mood for a repeat performance. The next day, fully rehydrated and feeling a bit guilty for having not yet explored the city, we set off to see some of the main sites. We decided to concentrate our efforts within the city center and visited a few of the notable mosques (National Mosque and Kibuli Mosque), and Parliament House.

While the mosques were interesting enough, our transport was the real experience. The simplest way to describe traffic in Kampala is utter chaos; the streets are literally filled with taxi buses and taxi motorbikes, called boda bodas. Apparently by this point we were feeling quite comfortable in Kampala. When we’d first arrived, we both said that there was no way we’d ever get on the back of a boda boda. Well, four days later we found ourselves holding on for dear life, and quickly realized we should have listened to our instincts. These guys do not know the meaning of stop because to them everything is simply an obstacle to weave by or squeeze through. My guy even hit the back of a bus, but thankfully at a slow enough speed that there was no damage to the vehicles, or to me. Problem is that in certain situations there really is no other affordable transportation options. Boda bodas are quick, cheap, and convenient in a city with huge traffic issues. We eventually learned that the boda drivers assume you want to arrive at your destination as quickly as possible, which to them requires fast, scary, and risky driving. Simply asking them to take their time and go slowly provides a bit of a safer ride. A bit.

After our day of sightseeing, we decided to head to Jinja the next morning. Jinja, just a couple hours drive from Kampala, is famous for the Source of the Nile River and consequently, white water rafting. While we still hadn’t decided if we were going to raft or not, there were plenty of other activities to make the trip to Jinja worthwhile.

Well, so much for the best laid plans. As we sat in the 1000 Cups Coffee House, having a cool drink and relaxing from the day, who did we see but Angela from a couple nights ago. As we sat and chatted, she mentioned that she was meeting Lisa, an ex-pat we had also met on Tuesday, for dinner and some drinks. Here we go again. After dinner, we returned to Stake Out and as it was before, the place was packed. It was a great time, and just the beginning of another long night. Afterwards, we headed off to a small, local club not too far from our hotel. While this place was nothing like the Silk Club, it was much smaller, it proved to be just as fun. Again, Jen and I found ourselves dancing to the wee hours of the morning, in our “safari” outfits. This time around, the night out definitely took its toll. Let’s me just say that Jen was feeling pretty rough. When drinking water causes the room to spin, you can pretty much rule out any travel that day. Instead, we went for breakfast and postponed Jinja one more day.

Jinja

We arrived in Jinja with no real plans but the idea of white water rafting was nagging in the back of my mind. I’d never been rafting before, and honestly never had a desire to. But, other travelers we’d met had raved about this experience. In the end, I decided that I had to do it; conquer my fear. (Jen was very persuasive as well) I mean, c’mon, it’s the freaking Nile!

We ended up booking the rafting out two days, deciding that we would do some mountain biking first to check out the town and its surrounding areas (and sweat out what remained of way too many Nile Specials). We chose a trail that would take us through some of the local villages to Bujagali Falls, which is not actually a waterfall but a series of large rapids. Seeing these rapids up close and knowing that we’d be rafting over them tomorrow made me seriously nervous. As ridiculous and insane as these rapids looked, they were only considered class 4 rapids. Tomorrow’s course included a bunch of these as well as some class 3 and some class 5. Double YIKES!

At the time of booking, the guy at Adrift, the rafting company, told us that the day of our trip we would have the choice of going on either the “mild” or “wild” raft tour. This gave me some solace as I tried to sleep the night before. When we arrived at the launch camp the next day, we soon realized that the determination of whether the ride is “mild” or “wild” depends on whether or not the majority of the people on the boat want to flip or not. This was not exactly the options I’d anticipated. Not being one to cause a fuss, I knew I was in for “wild” day. To our surprise, we actually recognized another fellow rafter that day. Hazel (the saxophone player) was there along with her visiting brother and his girlfriend.

As we sat and chatted, the anticipation was killing me. While driving to the launch site, I had successfully psyched myself up to the point where I was more excited than nervous. Now, with all the waiting and sitting around (African time again . . .), the nerves were starting to set back in. Eventually though, we suited up and there was no turning back. Our boat consisted of Jen and I, along with Hazel and her group, and our guide Joffrey. Right away, Joffrey worked on getting us ready for the rapids. This included general instructions, but most importantly for me, he got us in the water. Being that the chances of our raft flipping over were high, Joffrey told us what to do in that situation and proceeded to flip us over so we could see what it’d be like. Turns out flipping wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be. It was actually fun. After that, I was pretty excited for the rest of the day.

I don’t remember all the rapids that we hit that day but there were some definite standouts. The Bujagali falls were the first big rapids and they turned out to be less scary than they appeared. As we approached the first class 5, Joffrey warned there was a 50-50 chance that we would flip over (he said this at each rapid actually) so we were all prepared for the worse as we approached. It all happened so fast. Just as quickly as we entered the rapids, we were going over. All I remember is holding on to the rope and looking down at Jen as I flipped over her, then all of a sudden there was water. But just as quickly as it happened, it was over and we were all floating safely in the water, making our way back to our capsized raft. The second to last rapid of the day involved us going over a 10-15 foot drop (i.e. a waterfall) backwards. This one was fun and I remember both Jen and I looking at each other smiling as we made our way over the fall. It was a total rush. I really can’t do it justice so check out the photo gallery http://gallery.me.com/adamschen to see the pics. We also have a video which is pretty cool, but you’ll have to wait until we get home for that.

The day was capped off perfectly with some well deserved cold beers and tasty barbeque skewers. Then, Jen and I boarded the bus to take us back to Kampala. Yes we were returning to Kampala, but this time there would be no impromptu nights of drinking as we were heading out on our gorilla tracking safari the next day. After having such an amazing time in Kenya, I was wondering whether or not the rest of East Africa could compare. So far so good.

Kenyan Coast, August 13 (Jen)

2009-08-19T05:37:00.000-07:00

Mombasa

After 6 days without a shower, an afternoon waiting around in Nairobi, and an overnight bus, we were ecstatic to reach Mombasa at 5:30 am. We picked out one of the more upscale sounding “mid-range” hotels from our LP, as I decided that I NEEDED, and certainly deserved after our successful climb, a hot shower and a comfy bed. The place was the “Castle Royal Hotel” and it met all of my specifications. I could have used a little more water pressure, but that is standard in Kenya and I wasn’t complaining. After what I’m sure was a 45 minute shower (um, Perry’s was more like 10), we both hit the sheets. I decided I wasn’t getting up, or leaving the room, until my feet had shrunk at least halfway back to their normal size. Lucky for Perry, this happened around lunch time. We had lunch at the hotel, and promptly went back up to our room to lay around and watch TV, since TV is a luxury we hadn’t had since Asia. We only ventured out once more in the evening to walk one block to a Chinese restaurant for dinner (yes, it appears that even in Africa, every town has one). It may have been the most lazy day of our trip thus far.

Next morning, after a nice long sleep, we got back into the spirit. After breakfast, we decided to walk to Fort Jesus, and then to the “Old Town” to check it out. One thing to note about Kenya, is that breakfast is always included, and is always substantial. I don’t know how I’m going to go back to a muffin and coffee at my desk (I know, I know . . . I no longer have a desk) after having full eggs, sausage, beans, french toast, pancakes, fresh fruit, etc., etc. everyday. It’s definitely a refreshing change from Asia, where “western breakfast” consisted of one or two of the thinest, whitest, and stalest pieces of bread ever. Anyhow, I digress. On the way to Fort Jesus we, as usual, had multiple young men stop us in the street offering to be our tour guide. We, knowing our destination was just blocks away, politely declined them all only to be abruptly assigned one upon paying the exhorbent 500KSH entry fee to the Fort. (All of Kenya’s National Museums are about $1 for locals and $15 for foreigners. No matter what the caliber of the museum.) I understood perhaps 50% of what the man said, and I’m pretty sure he didn’t look Perry or I in the face once. Regardless, we gave him the obligatory 200KSH and sent him on his way. We did enjoy the Fort though, but mostly for the views of the Indian Ocean, and the exhibits which we had time to read through once we’d ditched our guide. It’s pretty cool that the whole thing is made of coral, and of course all of the explorer-type history associated with the place. I think I have learned more random history on this trip than I recall from all of my social studies classes back in high school!

After leaving the Fort, we decided that we should check out the “Old Town”, which is a maze of tiny alleys. There are signs everywhere warning tourists that it is best to hire a guide, or you may get lost. Since Perry almost couldn’t walk anymore due to his blisters from Mount Kenya, we flagged down a tuk-tuk and asked the driver if he could show us around. Did he know the major sights of the “Old Town”? A simple “yes” was his answer, so we hopped in. Stupid us. Of course he’s going to say yes! After an hour of random driving around, and a visit to a ridiculously uninteresting Hindu temple, we were dropped back where we started, near the market in the midst of the “Old Town”. Well, at least Perry got off his feet for an hour and so now agreed to venture inside the market and take a look.

Of course, two unaccompanied mzungu (foreigners) in the market attracted immediate attention and Oman Sharif became our newest “friend”. We make a lot of “friends” here in Kenya, as random people often chat us up in the street. “Wow! What a friendly country!” we think innocently at first . . . until the request for money and/or sponsorship eventually comes out. We have learned to have our guard up, which is somewhat unfortunate. However, I’ve recalled something I guess I’ve always known; normal people don’t just corner you on the street and start conversations with you for no reason, immediately invite you to meet their family, see their village, or share with you totally inappropriate personal information. (There are in fact many, many very normal, very friendly people in Kenya. I think after a month we have almost mastered the knack of distinguishing them.) Omar Sharif stepped into our lives at just the right time though. He turned out to be a wonderful guide through the “Old Town”. And, I liked that he had a good natured laugh and quoted us a price when his claim that “We a good friends now. Don’t worry!” met our skeptical looks.

The Old Town’s tiny streets were very cool, unlike anywhere I’d ever been. We mostly just wandered around while Omar pointed out various ancient buildings and innumerable mosques. Of course, the tour ended up at a spice shop, where neither Perry nor I could restrain ourselves. I bought some Kenyan coffee and tea, Perry bought some curry. Curry! We ended up sending it all home in a package with a few other souvenirs, all of which I’m sure will remind us of Mombasa, regardless of where they were purchased, because the entire box reeks like curry. (Sorry Mom, you are the lucky lady who gets to pick that one up from the post office . . .) I was proud of myself for bargaining hard enough that the shopkeeper told Perry he had a good “Mama budget” in me. ha! If only he knew me a little better . . . .

Since our ultimate goal on the coast was actually Lamu, but I was totally unwilling for another 7 hour bus ride so soon, we settled on leaving for Malindi the next day. A mere 2 hours away by matatu.

Malindi

The matatu to Malindi was our first solo matatu experience. I suppose if I were the hardcore traveller that my LP seems to encourage me to be I might be embarrassed by that. But, I’m not. And besides, they make it sound like you are taking your life in your hands taking public transport anywhere in Africa. I would tend to agree that, yes, the drivers are crazy and the vehicles under maintained. But really, even if you were to rent a car and drive yourself, these guys are still on the road with you so it’s all the same thing in my mind. And, it’s nice and cheap! Except that this one actually made us pay for a third seat for our bags . . . that is how massive they have become. This ride went off with off without a hitch. It was actually relatively comfy.

We had decided that it was time to finally reign in our spending a little bit, so we headed to Ozi’s guesthouse on our arrival. I was gently eased into our first “shared bathroom” accommodation (apart from camping that is) because there was nobody else staying there. So, I was really only sharing with Perry and the hallway, which suited me perfect. Ozi’s was great mostly though due to the staff who were soooo helpful and nice.

Malindi is known to be a bit of an Italian beach resort town. We didn’t meet too many Italians there (there were a few), but we did find some fabulous Italian restaurants. “I Love Pizza” was 2 minutes away from our guesthouse, and had the most fabulous pizzas and pastas. I honestly think the pizza rivals Puccinella in Kensington. Second runner up was a place called “Old Man and the Sea”, which offered up very reasonably priced seafood. One night Perry and I had lobster; we each ended up with a lobster and a half for $14! Delicious. The $1.50 glasses of South African house wine were an easy sell as well. (Wait a minute . . . did I say second runner up? Perhaps it was a tie.) Needless to say, we took most of our meals in Malindi between these two places, which were both within walking distance of our guesthouse.

The strangest thing about our visit to Malindi, the Italian beach resort town, was that we never went to the beach. We walked by the water, we checked out the “Vasco da Gamma Pillar” (another historical site) by the sea, and we admired the view from our balcony, but we just never had the inkling to get in the water. I even considered scuba diving, but it was expensive and the wrong season, and ultimately I think I was still just too lazy from the climb. I swear Mt. Kenya took it out of me!

We mustered up the energy one day to set out on an adventure to a place called the Marafa Depression The matatu ride there was an experience in itself. Traveling through various villages, the vehicle picked up all sorts of people and animals along the way. The Depression was very incredible looking. The red colors and rock formations were really beautiful. (You can check out the photos to see) The whole attraction was also a community based project. We paid a bit of money for a guide who walked us through. They also had a table set up with supplies needed at the village school, so naturally we bought some notebooks as well.

Our guide took us to the school and began randomly passing out the notebooks we had bought. At first it was pretty calm as there were only a few small kids around. But once word got out, in about 30 seconds, it was a free for all. Kids were actually fighting over plain blue notebooks, which once again reminded me how lucky Canadian kids are. I worried that perhaps this wasn’t the most appropriate way to give our gift to the school children, but in the end they seemed to calm down and perhaps even share. The teachers also didn’t seem to mind and welcomed us with big smiles and a tour of their classrooms. It was impressive to see what these teachers did with very little. There were colorful homemade posters and teaching aids on every bit of wall and hanging from the ceilings of each of the classrooms. They had collected discarded pieces of wood which the children now use for blocks. One teacher had also set up a “play store” with empty water bottles, old packaged food boxes and other items the children had collected. No FisherPrice here, but it seemed to me that their simple store served exactly the same purpose.

Lamu

The bus ride from Malindi to Lamu was extremely bumpy and dusty. I think I caught at least a foot of air numerous times. The ride was only about 4 hours, but it felt much longer due to the layer of dust coating my face, and the fact that I couldn’t stay put in my seat. I felt more sorry though, for the various people; men, women, and babies, picked up along with way who were sitting on tiny stools or standing in the aisle. No space on this bus was wasted, that is for sure. Upon reaching Mokowe, we were quickly ushered from bus to ferry and arrived on Lamu Island just as it was starting to get dark. We knew where we were going, a hotel called “Amu House”, but had no idea how to get there. Of course there was a helpful fellow there, mysteriously also named Omar, who offered to lead the way. He quickly grabbed my bag, and ducked into a tiny and completely dark alley indicating that we should follow. I stopped and actually said out loud, “Seriously??”. Omar laughed and said, “Lamu is a very safe place, not like Nairobbery.” Against my better judgement, into the dark alley with Omar we went. Turned out he was right, Lamu was a very safe town and it was refreshing our entire stay there to walk freely at all times of the day and night.

Lamu was by far the most interesting place we visited on the coast, and accordingly we spent the most time there. The town is a UNESCO world heritage site. The streets are not really streets, but are tiny alleys wide enough only for pedestrians and donkeys. There are no cars, and surprisingly no motorbikes as well. The homes and buildings are traditional Swahili style, and most are original. Amu House was one of these, which made it a really cool place to stay. The people in Lamu were incredibly friendly. Yes, many of the locals we met were selling sightseeing tours and dhow (traditional wooden sailing ships) trips, but even those we declined still stopped each time we met to shake hands and see how our day was going. The town was small, so we usually met the same people a few times a day, and after 5 days Perry had quite a few buddies. (In Kenya, and especially on the coast, it is mostly the men who are out and about, and they normally only talk to Perry, not to me. I am often wondering where all the women are . . .)

We spent a few days just hanging out in Lamu Town. Much of our wandering time was spent lost in the maze of tiny streets, which was pretty fun actually. We found our way to the Lamu Museum. checked out the market, wood carving, and craft shops, and had multiple coffees and seafood meals. Perry got a haircut, which attracted a lot of attention from the locals. I think he just decided to get one because he was so proud to know the Swahili word for barber (“Kinyozi”). I had my legs waxed at the “beauty salon”, which was a lengthy experience. The girl used a wad of sticky stuff she told me consisted of sugar, honey, and lemon, and it took over an hour. At least it worked though. The most interesting part about the experience was when she first arrived at the shop. She was in her black bui-bui (cover-all garment worn by Islamic women), with her eyes barely peeking out. Once inside, she geared down to the super fashionable clothes she had on underneath, and I realized that she was absolutely gorgeous. I don’t know why, but I was completely surprised. Oh yes, and Perry just had to ride a donkey! It was hilarious. I think the guys whose donkey it was found it a bit hilarious as well. I was impressed how fast that animal took off.

One day we took a walk to the beach, which was near Shela, a separate town also on Lamu Island. The interesting thing about Shela is that it is largely inhabited by rich expats, including the Prince of Monaco! Some locals told us that they regularly see him out and about, and that when he gets drunk he pees in the street. (Not sure how credible this information is . . . ) At the beach, we finally took the opportunity to swim in the Indian Ocean. I was shocked at how cold it was! We spent only an hour or two on the beach because it was so windy and sand was blowing everywhere. The sand was perfect though, so fine and soft. I just wished there wasn’t so much of it in my eyes. The highlight of the beach were the two camels hanging out waiting for tourists to ride them. The guys were charging 1,000KSH (about $15) per 1/2 hour ride, which I figured wasn’t worth it. But, I wanted to try, so negotiated five minutes for 200KSH ($2.50). The camels were so cute! They were very docile, but really high off the ground. The camel actually crouches on the ground so that you can get on. I was petrified when the camel first stood up, and then again when he sat down again so I could get off. Five minutes was definitely enough for me.

We also took the obligatory dhow trip, which included a full day on the dhow, lunch, fishing, snorkeling, and swimming at a nearby island called “Manda Toto”. The snorkeling was barely worth getting wet for, compared with what we’d gotten used to in SE Asia. But the fishing was pretty fun. I caught three fish! And Perry caught two. Mine was the biggest on the boat and they served it to me for lunch. It was very tasty and yes, I did share with Perry. The fishing rods were just line tied to a piece of wood, but they worked fine. The dhow itself was enjoyable, and it was kind of exciting to see just how much muscle our crew had to put into steering us in the proper direction. It was a relaxing day, and another chance to get in some beach time. I’ve had less desire to hit the beach here in Kenya than I had when we were in Thailand. I think partly because our accommodation hasn’t been on the beach, and partly because I had to dress up all conservative to walk there. (I think I may have been deported from the island if I was caught in my bikini and shorts in town.) There actually were quite a few women tourists who weren’t following the “rules” of covering up shoulders and knees, but every time we passed a bunch of guys hanging out in the street, which was about every 10 feet or so, I was very glad that I did.

We both loved Lamu, but after five days it was time to move on. Uganda was calling us. We bused back to Nairobi, which was an extensive trip; 7 hours bus during the day back to Mombasa, and then immediately onto an overnight bus to Nairobi. Yikes. We spent a couple of days in Nairobi, as poor Perry lost a filling while we were in Lamu and had to visit the dentist. We’re not sure whether it was a fish bone from the dhow trip, or the unboiled grilled corn from the street that did it. Our LP is so out of date (even though it was published in June 2009!) that it suggests heading directly to South Africa for any dental care, so we were a little concerned at first that our plans would have to change. But, in the end we found a safe and reputable dentist very near to Classic Guest Home where we were staying. Other than the dentist, we caught up on our photos and blog, printed some photos for our various Nairobi based tour guides, and booked our bus to Kampala.

Overall, we had a fabulous experience in Kenya. It seemed to us to be the perfect introduction to the African continent. Perry likes to call Kenya our “Thailand of Africa” - it was our first stop, we spent longer than we planned, and we are a bit sad to leave.

Mount Kenya, August 1 (Perry)

2009-08-19T05:21:00.000-07:00

The day before heading out on our 6 day Mt. Kenya trip, we left the comfort and quiet of the Rock House and decided to check into something a bit closer to the city center. Luckily, the Classic Guest House lived up to it’s slogan of, “A home away from home.” Complete with furniture and decor straight out of the 80‘s, the Classic ended up being super comfortable and a bargain at the same time. As much as I’d like to take the credit for finding the place, the tour company that we booked the trip with, Sana Highland Trekking, actually recommended the place to us. In terms of what to expect from this company, this simple guesthouse recommendation gave us confidence in our choice, but in the end turned out to be one of the few highlights.

When we first met with Sana, they were very professional and very thorough in going over all the details regarding the trip. After about an hour, we had no issues in booking with them. We were excited! However, we booked the climb prior to heading out on our amazing IntoAfrica safari. After that week, we were secretly doubting our choice to cheap out on the Mount Kenya excursion. (Sana was significantly less expensive than doing the climb through IntoAfrica) Now, it’s not that we weren’t still keeping an open mind regarding Sana, but I think both Jen and I were wondering if there was any way this company could compare. It probably didn’t help things when just before we left the Rock House, Patrick, the director of IntoAfrica in Kenya, gave us a “warning” of sorts regarding Sana. He said that in the past, their reputation had not been the best and to be wary of our guide changing promised arrangements once away from the office. Although we tried to pass this off as simple “trash talking” the competition, it did worry us a little. But after a good night’s sleep and a hearty breakfast at the Classic, we starting to feel good regarding our choice once again. (Although seeing our big 6’3 driver stand idle while Jen and I loaded our many bags into the jeep did start me worrying again, but I digress).

Day One

We met our guide Dancan (pronounced “Duncan”) at the Sana office and just as quickly as we met we were off to find our ride to Nanyuki. (We were actually happy to have Dancan as our guide, as we’d read great comments about him in the evaluation forms they showed us the day we’d booked.) I say “find our ride” because unlike our previous tour where all of our transportation was provided by the company (I know, I have to let it go and move on), we were going to rely on taking the matatus, public mini-buses that only leave when they’re full. (This was fine of course, as we had expected the trip to be a bit more “budget”.) After about an hour and a half of waiting and numerous attempts of stuffing what I’m sure was a car windshield at our feet, we were off. Although I could barely feel my ass cheeks after the 4 hour ride, the trip was fairly uneventful and we arrived at our stop for the night. Nanyuki has a few things going for it in terms of tourism; it’s the jumping point for the Sirimon route on Mt. Kenya (Sirimon was our route up, Chogoria our route down.), it’s at around 2,000 plus meters above sea level so most people stay the night to acclimatize, and it happens to be situated right on the equator. I’ll spare the “exciting” details of straddling the equator but check out our photo gallery for the obligatory photos.

Having arrived in Nanyuki around midday, we had plenty of time to check out the town. Unfortunately, all the extra time also provided Dancan with ample opportunities to show us his sketchy side. Now, it’s not that he wasn’t a nice guy. In fact, our first impression of him was very good. But as the day unfolded we could see why Patrick warned us to be on guard. One of the main reasons we decided to go with Sana is because they don’t pair up random people together for the fact that different people hike at different paces, react differently to high altitudes, etc. The last thing that Jen and I wanted was to feel rushed on the mountain. As we sat in the courtyard of our guesthouse drinking some tea, Dancan came by and said that one of his friends was dropping by and that he was also a guide. “Okay”, I think I said. Then as he was walking away, he muttered something about his friend bringing a couple of customers with him. At this point, we’re still trying to give him the benefit of the doubt. We both figured that we’d be “buddying” up of sorts with this other guide and his group for meals, etc. No big deal. Well, as it turns out Dancan’s “friend” was not a guide. In fact, he was bringing this additional pair to join our tour. Although it was a bit awkward, we quickly and firmly squashed that idea. The worst part was having to watch the two people show up and listen as Dancan’s friend explained that we didn’t want them to join us. Oh well, we thought, it’s a big mountain and we’ll probably never see them again . . . (Actually, they did find another guide and we saw them everyday of the trip.)

Day Two

That night, in the hotel in Nanyuki, I didn’t have a very good sleep. Maybe it was the excitement of starting the trip. Or maybe, just maybe, it was the persistent bass-thumping coming from a nearby bar till the wee hours of the morning, which was followed very shortly by sunrise “call to prayer” from the nearby mosque. I’m not quite sure, but thankfully for me, the first day on the mountain would be an easy one. The actual trekking didn’t start until around noon. At around 11am or so, after seeing the very exciting equator sign, we took off from our guesthouse and headed to Sirimon Gate. It was here that we met the rest of our crew. In addition to Dancan, we would be joined by the super friendly Simon, a porter, our amazing cook James, and Kate, Dancan’s sister who would be the second porter (We had actually met Kate briefly the day earlier). Because Kate is much smaller than Dancan, and any other person functioning as a porter, the arrangement was to be that she’d carry Dancan’s small bag, and he would carry Jen’s. No problem, as we understood his urge to give Kate the work. (I think at this point Jen was happy as long as she didn’t have to carry it.) After some quick rearranging of gear, we set off for Old Moses Camp where we’d spend the first night. The 3 hour trek was a steady, gradual ascent and we arrived at camp with plenty of daylight to spare.

At around 3,200 meters elevation, Old Moses Camp was pretty much what we expected. Housed in essentially a large wooden shack, there were 5 separate rooms each with 6 sets of bunk-beds, meaning at capacity, the camp could sleep around 60 trekkers. Luckily for us, the place was not even close to being full because while you could definitely sleep that many, there was nowhere even close to enough tables and chairs in the dining area. As a bonus, Jen and I actually had our own room that night. Although our guide told us that the first day was going to be relatively easy, both Jen and I were feeling pretty content with ourselves and excited for the days to come as we had our “afternoon tea” at camp. (Yep, English “afternoon tea” everyday, even on the mountain. Did I mention our cook was fabulous?) Going into something like this, we’d had no idea what to expect. I mean, the two of us have both done our share of hiking in the Rockies back home, but for some reason, I was feeling a bit intimidated about the whole thing. Anyways, after the first day I realized a few things.

First off, I knew that we would be fine in terms of the hiking. Secondly, although mostly out of our control, I realized that in terms of packing we were very ill equipped for the conditions. Before arriving in Kenya, we knew that trekking on Mt Kenya would be cold and potentially very wet. However, coming from Thailand we’d had very few options in terms of cold-weather gear. (And there was no way that we were going to carry all that warm clothing around for 6 months, even if we had “planned” enough to realize we’d need it). Ignoring the fact that we’ve been in 30+ degrees weather for the last half-year, we figured we were Canadians and if there’s one thing that we’re good at, it’s living in the cold weather. Our plan was simple. Where others would rely on appropriate gear such as 0 to -20 C sleeping bags or down jackets, we would rely on layers. Many, many layers. The first night at Old Moses, we put the plan in action. That night I wore 2 long-sleeve shirts, 4 t-shirts, underwear, leggings, shorts, a tuque, and two pairs of socks. Jen wore pretty much the same. Shockingly, we were still a bit cold. Not a good sign considering that it was only going to get colder as we gained altitude, but at this point we figured we still had fleeces and some additional shirts to add to the mix.

Thirdly, I realized just how lucky I was that Simon was the one carrying my bag. Ever since we began researching the trip, we knew that we wouldn’t be carrying our own bags. Perfect we thought. What luxury! What never crossed our mind was that our bags would essentially be like sponges, soaking up the sweat of our porters. For Jen’s bag, this was quite evident. Don’t get me wrong, it’s not that we weren’t appreciative of our guides and porters. I mean, here they are carrying our 15 kg bags (well, hopefully they were a little lighter, but that is the regulation max weight) of clothes, food, etc. up a mountain for us. Of course, we would normally never complain or even notice the fact that they were sweating on our bags. The problem is that when, even before you start to climb you notice someone has a fairly strong body odor, you know that your bag is in trouble. I could see the writing on the wall about half way up the trail as Dancan was sweating up a storm and Jen’s bag was started to show definitive sweat stains. As we reached camp, Jen gave me a look that made me realize she also noticed her bag becoming two-toned. Inside our room and out of the fresh air, we finally got a whiff of the damage. The smell can best be described as simply, “unhealthy”. For all of you who know Jen, you can imagine how she felt about this.

Day Three

Despite the cold and some plumbing issues (the camp’s, not mine), we both ended up having decent sleeps at Old Moses. After packing up our stuff and eating a hearty breakfast (I kind of still miss James . . .), we were ready to tackle the full day of hiking that would take us from Old Moses to Shipton camp. Although I’m not sure of the distance, the trek to Shipton would be our longest on the way up, about 9 hours, and maybe the most scenic. The best way to describe the trail is a series of smaller ups and downs that eventually bring you to Mackinder’s valley, the biggest on Mt Kenya. Reaching Mackinder’s at about noon, the traverse from this point on is where the majority of the 1000 meters of elevation would be gained. It also provided us with our first clear glimpse of the ultimate goal. At 4985 meters, Point Lenana was finally visible and it was an amazing sight. (Check out the photo gallery to see what I mean).

We arrived at Shipton’s around 4:30 and while we weren’t exhausted, we definitely were glad to be done for the day. Shipton’s camp sat at just under 4200 meters of elevation and in terms of amenities, it was pretty much the same as the previous night’s camp except for one thing, the view. Sitting on wooden benches and enjoying a hot cup of tea, we had a front row seat to Point Lenana and the twin peaks of Batian (5199m) & Nelion (5188m). (Lenana, while not the highest peak on Mt Kenya, is the highest peak accessible without technical climbing.) Our schedule was to spend two nights at Shipton, with the extra day being used to acclimatize ourselves before attempting the summit. In addition to providing the best chance for trekkers to reach the peak, the extra day gives people the option to hike the summit circuit. When this extra day was originally sold to us, the lady at the Sana office talked of the circuit as if it were a leisurely stroll which provided some additional gorgeous views of the mountain. We were keen to do it. I guess we shouldn’t have been too surprised when Dancan approached us and asked us if we wanted to skip the circuit and instead summit the next day. This would knock a day off our time on the mountain, which we had of course already paid for. His reasoning was that he didn’t think we could do the circuit and have enough strength left over to reach the peak. (Thanks for the encouraging confidence . . .)

I don’t know much about being a mountain trekking guide and all, but I would think that it’s not too common to repeatedly tell your clients that you don’t think they can make it. I mean, I would understand his concerns if Jen and I were the slowest of all the groups and were incessantly asking him, “Are we there yet?”, but honestly this was not the case. I’m not trying to toot my own horn, but despite being the last group to leave the Old Moses camp (Dancan slept in), we ended up being the second group to reach Shipton and not once did we complain about the difficulty of the trail. For this reason, both Jen and I were skeptical of Dancan’s “concerns”. I hate that my instinct was not to trust him, but he hadn’t exactly proven to consistently have our best interests at heart. We declined his offer and decided to stick to the schedule.

That night, we definitely felt the difference in temperature at the higher altitude and as such, decided that we needed to add some additional layers from the previous night. I’ve been carrying around a fleece for the last 6 months and hadn’t found one opportunity to use it. I’d even thought of sending it home a couple of times but at this moment I was happy to have it. Looking like a couple dressed in those inflatable sumo costumes at halloween, Jen and I got into our sleeping bags and went to sleep. For me though, tried to sleep would be more accurate. After a tiring day, we were both exhausted and went to bed at around 9:00 pm. While I did manage to fall asleep initially, I woke up after what I thought was a long, deep sleep. I was shocked when I looked at my ipod and saw that it was only 11:30pm. From that point on, I really started to feel the cold and was in and out of sleep for the rest of the night. It didn’t help that some of the groups sharing our room were waking up at 2:30 a.m. in order to reach the peak before sunrise, something we would be doing the following day.

Day Four

The second it hit 6:30 a.m. on my ipod, our wake up time for the day, I rolled over and immediately started making noises in the hopes of waking up Jen. Just enough noise to wake her up gently but not so much that it would appear I was waking her up intentionally. (I have become expert at this in the past months to avoid the wrath of “morning Jen” . . .) At this point, I’d been up for almost 3 hours and was so bored and cold that I couldn’t wait to get out of bed and hopefully warm up, and of course, I wanted her to join me. This day it didn’t take much to wake Jen as it turns out she had a fairly restless sleep as well. With the usual hot tea and warm porridge, both Jen and I warmed up quite nicely and after finishing breakfast we were ready for the day.

We started off around 8 am that morning and this time, because we were spending two nights at this camp, we didn’t need anything but our day packs. As such, James and Kate took a well deserved day off, but Simon decided to join in on the hike. At this point, Jen and I hadn’t really noticed any effects from the altitude and seeing that we were already at 4,200 meters, we didn’t think it would be an issue going forward. Well, within the first 30 minutes of the hike, we finally started to realize just how thin the air was. For the remainder of the first uphill of the day, we were taking quite a few breaks to catch our breaths. As the day went on though, we both started to acclimatize and soon we were feeling pretty good. The circuit is essentially a series of ups and downs that takes you around the peaks of Mt Kenya. From the onset, we could see that not only was the trail very scenic, but at the same time it was fairly challenging. (Dancan had been accurate about that . . . oops) After a few hours, Dancan finally explained to us why he had suggested the change in itinerary. Although we had already hiked about 5 km, to do the full circuit would be an additional 21 km! With some fairly significant inclines and declines. YIKES! So, knowing that we really didn’t have it in us, we listened to the alternatives. One option was going back the way we came, which didn’t really appeal to us, or we could take a “shortcut”. Perhaps we should have listened to his advice initially . . .

Maybe something was lost in translation, but I would never classify the hike that followed as a “shortcut”. As Dancan explained it to us, we would continue on with the circuit trail for about another hour or two and then instead of continuing on around the peak, we would go over Point Lenana. Sounds great. Wait a second. Did you say that the shortcut consists of going over the peak? So much for using the extra day to acclimatize. But really, what choice did we have? Arriving at the “Austrian Hut” (about 100m below Pt. Lenana) pretty much on schedule, we stopped for a short lunch break before heading to the top. In addition to being a fairly steep climb, the way to the top was a cold and windy affair. I have to admit, there were some pretty sketchy sections that had me concerned, where a simple misstep would mean sliding down a cliff, but we continued on and eventually made it to Point Lenana. Being the late afternoon, the peak was covered in clouds so other than the Kenyan flag marking the point, we really couldn’t see much else. Still, we were proud of ourselves. We had done it! We had reached our goal, and a day early.

Returning back to camp, Jen and I were feeling pretty good. Yeah, we didn’t complete the summit circuit, but we had a full day of hiking and reached the top as a bonus. Enjoying our late afternoon tea, there wasn’t much that could spoil the moment, although Dancan definitely gave it his best shot. When Dancan arrived at our table, we were expecting to go over the logistics of tomorrow’s climb. We were pretty shocked when once again he tried to change the plan by suggesting that we skip the sunrise climb, which was to provide the gorgeous views meant to make all this effort worthwhile, and instead simply start our descent. His reasoning, once again, was that he didn’t think we had it in us to reach the peak twice in one trip, let alone two days in a row. Granted that he might have been right in suggesting we not complete the summit circuit, there is simply no way that we were not going to do the sunrise summit. I mean, other than hiking Mt Kenya itself, catching the sunrise on the peak was one of the main reasons for doing the trek at all. Suffice it say, we once again kindly declined his suggestion and we made a plan to set off at 3:00 a.m. the next day.

If you think I’m being overly harsh on Dancan, what happened next finalized our conclusions regarding the type of guy he was. While we were discussing the plan for tomorrow, one of the other guides said something to Dancan which he apparently did not appreciate. After a heated discussion (they were speaking Swahili, but you can tell when an argument is going on in any language) and some finger pointing, Dancan pushed the other guide from behind and then threw a wild looping punch that missed badly. Before the rest of the camp knew what was going on, tables and chairs were flying all over and Dancan was on his back still swinging wildly. Fortunately, some of the other guides and porters jumped in and broke up the fight. It was actually quite funny, especially when word got out to the other hikers that it was our guide that started the brawl. The whole thing was ridiculous. The ridiculousness was especially evident when Dancan explained to us the incident started because the other guide wanted to serve his own guests tea at the table where we were sitting. In order to prevent a fist fight, I think we would have moved to another table. Maybe.

Later on, once calmed down, Dancan asked us not to mention his temper flare up in our comments to Sana, and could we also not tell any of the other guides or porters his “English” name! The guides and porters use their Swahili names with each other so the others didn’t know him as Duncan. However, the name “Dancan” would be the only way to identify him to his company, should the others want to snitch. Fist-fighting in front of clients on the mountain is certainly cause for dismissal. However, while we didn’t really appreciate the drama, we didn’t have the heart to decline his request. Especially since we also knew that Dancan’s dismissal would mean James’s, Kate’s, and Simon’s as well. I guess that is where all of those other “great” comments we’d read in the office came from as well. Guilt.

Day Five

Having already experienced a couple of cold and sleepless nights, Jen and I knew that we had to have a decent sleep if we were to be ready for the hike the next day. In addition to reaching the summit, we also had to make our way down to Chogoria Gate, which sits at around 3000 meters. The last day of hiking would be a tough one. Heading off to bed at around 8:30 that evening, Jen and I proceeded to put on basically everything in our packs. Honestly, in terms of clothing, all that remained in our backpacks was our extra underwear. We figured that not only would this approach keep us warm at night, it was essentially what we’d be wearing on our hike so we could literally roll out of bed and start the day. Normally, waking up at 2:30 in the morning to go hiking in the dark, and in -10 degree weather, would be at the bottom of my “to do” list. It turned out to be one of the most enjoyable hiking experiences of my life.

Stepping out of the camp at 3 that morning, it was darker outside than I thought it would be. Even with our flashlights and headlamps on, the path continuously surprised us with its varying terrain. In addition, the cold was more of a factor than Jen and I had expected it would be. At about the midway point, the wind started to bite and for the first time in about 7 months, Jen and I remembered what Calgary winters felt like. The cold wasn’t so much an issue as long as we kept moving. The problem was that we were actually making such good time that we had to break for longer and longer periods to avoid reaching the summit prior to sunrise, at which point we would feel the cold even more. Hiking at night, you pretty much keep your eyes fixed on the light and your next couple of steps, so the breaks were nice in that they were an opportunity for us to check out the view. For the first couple of hours, seeing nothing but the stars was absolutely amazing. In all my life, I’ve never seen so many in the sky. The Orion constellation, which I love to find whenever I look up at a night sky, was the biggest I’ve ever seen it. It’s a shame that we couldn’t take any photographs but I know I’ll never forgot what we saw that early morning.

As we got closer and closer to the summit, the sky started to brighten and soon we were able to move around with just the light off the horizon. Despite the strong winds, the increasing presence of the sun was making the journey warmer by the minute. When we finally reached Point Lenana, we saw what we had missed out on the previous day. With a clear sky, the rising sun lit up the surrounding peaks and valleys perfectly and it was absolutely stunning. After taking in the scenery and snapping a few (ok, many) photographs, the adrenaline that kept us going in the cold soon wore off. As such, we started our descent. It wasn’t until an hour or so into the trek down that I started to feel my legs.

By the time we reached our lunching spot, both Jen and I were completely bagged. It didn’t help that we were wearing all those layers of clothing and that the sun was now blaring hot, but regardless, I think the previous days hikes were finally catching up to us. After lunch, the hike became even more painful because, with a mere 7 km to go, it started to pour. By the time we reached our campsite at Chogoria Gate, which would be where Jen and I would share our first tenting experience together, we were absolutely soaked. Let’s just say that we’re hoping our second tent experience will be a more comfortable affair.

After another tasty and massive dinner provided by James (consisting of soup, bread spaghetti bolognese, and fruit - we ate like kings the entire trip), we set about getting ourselves ready for the night. Knowing that at 2950m we would still be feeling the chill, we asked the crew if we could dry a couple of items, particularly my fleece, over their fire. It was also an excuse to join them sitting near the fire where they’d been cooking. It’s warmth was beckoning us, even though “campfires” are not technically allowed in the park. As we chatted and waited for the smoke to dry out our stuff, the crew were preparing their own evening meal; Ugali (corn flower mixed with boiling water and cooked until it becomes sponge-like) and green vegetables which they had picked nearby. A completely tasteless and very basic meal, especially in comparison with the lavish feasts Jen and I had been devouring for the past 5 days. Suddenly we had more understanding for Dancan, who we felt had been doing his best to increase his revenues and decrease his costs here and there throughout the trip. We had naively assumed that the crew were eating, at least in part, what we were eating, as this had been the case with IntoAfrica. I guess the realization that this was obviously not the case highlighted for us one of the reasons why the Sana excursion was so much cheaper. Obviously these guys weren’t being paid a sufficient amount by Sana to justify incurring any extra expense on their own meals. It was fortunate for us, and for the crew of course, that we came to this realization prior to doling out everybody’s tips the next day.

Day Six

The next day, the plan was to reach Chogoria town where we would take a matatu back to Nairobi. We had two options. We could either hike the 20+km distance or hop into an overcrowded Land Cruiser for a ridiculous $25 per person. In this case, it was money well spent since after hiking in the rain the previous day, I had developed two of the worst blisters I’ve ever had. The thought of hiking even a few meters was enough to make me cringe. Arriving in town, we had plenty of time to enjoy a farewell tea with our crew. This consisted of us handing out each person’s tip, and them running off to compare amounts and then discussing it amongst themselves in Swahili in front of us. Um, guys, we can tell what you are doing! In the end, and despite Dancan’s unprofessionalism, we really enjoyed our crew. Simon and James were by far our favorites. (Accordingly, we tipped them a bit more, hence all the discussion.)

Anyways, after saying our goodbyes to the crew, we boarded a Matatu with Dancan. Arriving back in Nairobi, all Jen and I wanted was to use a proper bathroom (all the camps on the mountain had western style toilets, but unfortunately no toilet seats . . . ), take a hot shower (did I forget to mention that we hadn’t showered in nearly six days?), and have a good sleep. Unfortunately for us, our personal hygiene would have to take a backseat for at least another day. Instead of booking the nicest hotel we could find (which we should have done), we had already pre-purchased tickets for an overnight bus that would take us to the East coast of Kenya and the town of Mombasa. Hopefully for our fellow passengers the windows on the bus open up . . .

For photos of of this and all of our adventures, go to http://gallery.me.com/adamschen

Kenya Safari, July 25 (Jen)

2009-08-15T05:37:00.000-07:00

I have no idea actually how to begin this blog. Our safari experience was completely, absolutely amazing. I’ll give you the low down, but you really have to look at the (sorry, many) pictures, which I’m doing my best to upload when I can find a reasonable internet connection here in Kenya (which is rare).

Perry has already told you about our introduction to IntoAfrica at the Rock House and how they took such great care of us in the days leading up to our safari. I have to say, I was feeling uncertain over my choice prior to arriving in Kenya, as they were more expensive than the other companies we’d investigated. However, after the trip I have no doubt that the extra cost was totally worth it. This company was professional, considerate, and kind, and the trip was near perfect.

Day One

Before setting off, we met our group. We had two drivers, Duncan and Samuel; one cook, Patrick; and one guide, Elijah. Enjoying the trip with us we had Jaime, an intelligent Chinese American from Washington DC; Pablo and Fremon, a hilarious gay couple from Santa Cruz, California; and Adam and Christina, honeymooners from the UK. We couldn’t have asked for a better group, or a better number of people since at 7 instead of 6 persons, we required two 4WD instead of just one. We had tons of space for comfy travel, and of course for the game drives which I’ll tell you all about later on.

We left from the Rock House around 9:30 am or so, and headed out past the Great Rift Valley towards the Masai Mara. Along the way, we stopped at a Masai Market, which was unlike anything I’ve ever seen. To give you a little background, the Masai are a tribe which has kept fairly close to their traditional ways over the years. Their livelihood is focused on their cattle, and their diet consists mainly of milk, meat, and blood. Yikes! The men also carry massive spears. I think this is at least partly to look cool, but officially it is to protect their herds from unwanted predators, like lions.

Needless to say, the market was complete mayhem! Absolute craziness of a place, which we really were only there to observe, and not to partake in. (None of us were currently in need of a goat, a cow, or any second hand apparel . . .) At first we weren’t going to take photos, as the Masai are in the habit of demanding 500KSH (about $7) per picture, but once there, I just could not resist. I had to show you all just how overwhelming it was. I somehow managed to snap some shots without incident, but Adam, an English guy on our trip, did not get off so easy. Not sure if he was the tallest or the whitest or what exactly made him the target, but one old man decided to grab on to him and just refused to let go. Locals were gathered around, some were laughing, and we all became a little unnerved. Even Elijah seemed shocked and I wasn’t exactly sure what he was going to do about it, as he is not a large man. In the end, Elijah paid the old man his ransom of 100KSH to set Adam free. Not the sort of behavior you want to reward with cash, but it appeared that we had no choice if we didn’t want to leave poor Adam behind. At this point Perry and I were feeling fairly justified in opting for an organized safari as our first “African experience” outside of Nairobi.

The rest of our encounters at the market were much more amicable however; kids following us wanting to get their pictures taken (and of course take a look on the display screen - seems to be a fad the world over), and one gyrating woman, who we thought might be having a seizure until some bystanders explained that she was dancing. She seemed happy when Christina joined her, but I think she might have been a little disappointed that her dance wasn’t followed by a few shillings . . . nothing is for free in Kenya.

We continued on to our campsite, which was near to a Masai village with which IntoAfrica has a partnership. We set up our tents and headed over to the village to say hello. The experience was a bit different from the “village” visits that we had had in Asia. These guys are literally living in huts made of mud. I found it disturbing that the children’s faces were mostly covered in flies, but I suppose that is what happens when you keep your cattle and your kids in the same area. The kids seemed unphased though and were super cute. We had a tour of the village and the inside of one of the Masai’s houses (built entirely by his wife of course). Then, the ladies sang some songs for us. I can’t get over how everyone we meet here in Kenya seems to be musically talented. Of course, the ladies also brought out some bead work and we just couldn’t resist purchasing a couple of bracelets which I’m sure I’ll never wear again. It was all a very cool experience. I also felt good to see that the relationship between our guides, and the Masai people, seemed strong and positive. We were then escorted back to our camp, in the dark, by two Masai “warriors” who guarded our camp through the night, sleeping outside by the fire. The camping experience itself was pretty posh, by camping standards. We were served a delicious 3 course dinner by candlelight, and the guys even set up a little outhouse for us so that we didn’t have to venture too far into the scary African bush.

Day Two

After being spoilt again with a massive breakfast; complete with sausages, eggs, and french toast, we walked our Maasai “guards” back to their village and said our good-byes (i.e. gave them their tips). Then we hopped into our Landcruisers and continued the drive towards the world-renowned Masai Mara Reserve. Before we even reached our tented camp, located near to the reserve gate, we managed to spot giraffe, zebra, and gazelle. Duncan, our driver, laughed at us taking photos of tiny gazelles that were quite far off in the distance. Once you see the pictures from the reserve game drives, you’ll understand why. It was pretty exciting for us anyhow, to see our first wildlife. We arrived at camp in time for lunch, a short rest, and a late afternoon game drive in the park.

Our camp accommodation was a step up from the previous night. While still in tents, we were now in permanent tents, complete with beds, toilets, and showers. Luxury! There was even a wood burning hot water system.

The highlight of our game drive that evening were the elephants. I could not believe how close we were able to be to them! It was so amazing to see a huge family of elephants, just living their lives, totally uninterested in us and our vehicles. After the drive, we had dinner and a fairly early night, as day three was to be a full day inside the reserve.

Day Three

“Game drive” is just a fancy term for driving around the park, looking out the window, and searching for animals. I was a little concerned that I might get tired of being in a vehicle for the entire day . . . but quickly realized that that was totally impossible. First of all, the Landcruisers were pretty comfy (we had only Perry, Jaime, and I in our 7 seat car so had tons of space), and we were able to stand up and look out the pop-up roof at any time. Secondly, the experience was just so so so amazing. I could not believe the amount and variety of wildlife we saw. I expected to see animals in the park, but not that many! And not all at the same time! It was truly an extraordinary experience. In the morning alone we saw baboons mating, warthogs feeding, zebras, giraffe, vultures feeding on a zebra carcass, buffalo terrorizing a lion who was bleeding and stuck in a tree, wildebeest, ostrich, cheetahs playing, elephants roaming, lions resting after feeding on a wildebeest, other random bird-life that I cannot name, as well as various gazelle, impala and other deer like creatures which I can only tell apart when I have an African wildlife book or website open in front of me. It was so incredible.

We stopped for a picnic lunch near to the Tanzanian border (i.e. the Serengeti). Here we were able to go for a small walk along the “Sun River” where we saw hippos and crocodiles. I never realized that hippos make so much noise. We actually saw crocodiles mating, which Elijah told us even he had never seen before. I felt a little sorry for whichever croc was underneath, I assume the female, as she didn’t seem able to come up for air much. ;-)

In the afternoon Duncan managed to track down a spot where we could observe part of the annual wildebeest migration, which happens around this time each year. I think seeing this was Perry’s prime motivation for coming to Africa at all. It was a little bit different than we had expected, as I think normally, at least from the pictures and research we had done, the excitement comes from watching the throngs of animals crossing the Mara River. But, this year Kenya is abnormally dry and, while we did see them crossing a river bed, there was no water to speak of. At least not where we were. Regardless, the sight and sounds of thousands of these animals, mostly we saw wildebeest and zebra, all moving together, was absolutely magnificent. It is funny to see a few of them every now and then just go a bit crazy and start jumping around, disturbing the sort of random organization of movement.

We topped off the day with a few more giraffe, elephant, and of course more bird sightings. Then, another fabulous dinner courtesy of Patrick, our talented cook. Patrick made sure we were well fed and served us loads and loads of delicious food, and of course lots of English tea. I don’t know how I was able to sit around at night chatting and drinking cups and cups of tea, yet still fall fast asleep in my tent. Anyways, thanks to Patrick, I swear I gained at least 5 pounds on this trip. Luckily, my pants all have a little extra room in them to fit my money belt. (Thank goodness Mount Kenya is next or I’ll have nowhere to keep my money . . . he he)

Day Four

We started out the day very early, 5:30 am or so, to catch the sunrise on our last game drive in the Masi Mara Reserve. I think I’m starting to get used to these early mornings . . . well, maybe just a little. I’m still surly at that time of the day. But, the sunrise was very pretty and the animals were out so it was certainly worth it.

After breakfast, we packed up our bags and began the journey to our next stop, Lake Elmenteita. Apart from our picnic lunch, the journey was fairly uneventful. Well, apart from when we stopped to purchase carrots and potatoes, and our vehicles were swarmed by kids and people selling stuff or merely asking for a few spare shillings. We were pretty glad, once again, that we were safely with our group and our IntoAfrica guides. I think it may have been our posh IntoAfrica vehicles that likely attracted all the attention though . . .

Again, I tried to snap some photos along the way. The only time I got into trouble was actually an innocent incident when I was truly trying to shoot the scenery, but there was a fellow with a bunch of his donkeys in the distance. I got a finger wagging from him! Duncan thought it was funny, and giggled with his massive smile that we’ve come to love. Our accommodation on Lake Elmenteita was again a step up, or so it seemed, as this time we were in bungalows with a view to the lake. Pretty nice. Unfortunately, the toilet was still unflushed from the previous guests and the shower was more that a little scuzzy. Let’s just say that I didn’t take off my shoes the entire stay, which lasted for the remainder of the trip.

Not much else went on that evening, as it had been a fairly long journey. We had dinner and Fremon had the fabulous idea to order a bottle of brandy from the “bar” (which consisted of some very old couches and chairs, like you might find abandoned in a back alley in Calgary). The brandy became a enjoyable routine for the next few nights. After a few glasses, we all began to open up a little more, and of course ask more questions of our Kenyan guide. Elijah admitted to us that no self respecting Kenyan man would stoop to cooking in his own household, as this, in addition to all cleaning, childcare and other sort of household chores, were solely the responsibility of the wife. I told Perry not to get his hopes up . . . It is amazing how differently some things are viewed here, even among the highly educated city dwellers. (Elijah’s wife also has a successful career in Nairobi.)

Day Five

This day was packed full. The morning consisted of a walk along the lake to a hot springs and back. The highlight of this was the what seemed like hundreds of thousands of pink flamingo we saw. We could see the smears of pink on the water from our bungalow balcony, but the walk allowed us to get up close. Lake Elmenteita (Along with Lake Nakuru - see day six) is actually a “soda lake”, which (I didn’t learn until this day) means that the water is not fresh, but is salt water. The lake was low, due to lack of rain. It is definitely a tough year for the Kenyan farmer, and we have noticed all kinds of discussion of this in the local papers since our trip.

We stopped at a hot springs and some of the group dipped their feet in. I mostly enjoyed watching the locals doing their washing, and listening to the school girls, who arrived on a big bus, nattering with each other in a mixture of Swahili and English.

After our “hike”, and another sizable lunch, we had a visit to a nearby primary school, Kekopey Primary. The tour of the school was eye-opening and inspiring at the same time. Teachers back home will be interested to see the picture of the staff room, the classrooms with rudimentary homemade visual aids, and to hear that the school’s grade one class has 80 pupils to one teacher. Can you imagine!? We do see it in the papers often here, stories about teacher shortage in Kenya. The Head Teacher (i.e. the Principal) seemed passionate about his job, and gave us a very informative tour. The most emotional part of the visit though, was the welcome we received by the kids themselves. The school completes in a national music competition, and I have to tell you that these kids are AMAZING. They sang a song about Kenya, and they also sang a welcome song to us into which they incorporated our names. I took a short video which I’ll try to upload. I wish I had taken more. Their voices were so strong and they were so talented that I actually teared up. It was a little embarrassing. That didn’t last long though because they also dragged all of us up to dance with them, which was so much fun. I wished that we could have stayed and hung out with them for longer. I have to say that this was also the best fundraising strategy ever, as after that performance we all made sizable donations to the school.

After our time and Kekopey Primary, we visited a Kikuyu farm. The Kikuyu are the largest tribal group in Kenya. We were received in the “living room”, which had more doilies than I’ve ever seen in my life, accented by some Christian posters, which seemed like they were from the 50’s. George, our host, was a retired teacher, and was very interested in finding out about each of us, particularly our professions and education. (Most Kenyans we’ve met, regardless of their profession, seem to also have a farm. Elijah did as well.) Most of our group though, was much more interested in George’s grandson, George Jr, who kept us entertained the whole time we were there. He took a shine to Perry, and I think likewise Perry to him, and of course enjoyed getting his photo taken by everybody.

It was interesting that while in the home, only George Sr and George Jr sat with us. We saw the women only when they were serving us tea, and displaying for us their beadwork which we of course again felt obligated to purchase. (The pieces were pretty nice though. Mom & Dad, you can see your gifts in the photo of George’s mom.). It was even more interesting to see that George’s mom had to serve him as well! Apparently the superiority of the male begins early, even at the tender age of 3.

Day 6

Our second to last day was spent in Lake Nakuru National Park. The most memorable part of the visit took place early in the day, when we drove up to the lake to see an astounding number of flamingo and pelican. You just have to look at the pictures because I cannot describe how unbelievable it was. There were just soooo many and they were so beautiful. We spent quite a bit of time just watching them, and taking way too many photos. (We actually filled up an 8GB memory card on this trip. Don’t worry though, I did whittle it down prior to posting.)

The other “big deal” in Lake Nakuru Park were the rhinos. We managed to spot both black and white rhinos, which are in fact all grey in color. My understanding is that it is actually the shape of their backs and the way they hold their heads which allows you to tell the apart. We didn’t find them until the end of the day, so were getting slightly discouraged after lunch. But, we all had faith in Duncan, our guide and driver, and in the end saw so many of them. And very close to our vehicles! This completed the “big five” for us. The big five of Africa are lion, rhino, elephant, buffalo, and leopard. (Must admit I didn’t know this prior to arriving here . . .) I managed to get photos of all, expect for the leopard, which I’m not even sure it is fair to say that I saw. In fact I saw him so far away that I only just caught him running with his tail in the air through the binoculars. If it weren’t for Duncan, we would certainly not have realized what we had seen.

Of course, these are just the highlights, and like in the Masi Mara, it was surprising the variety and amount of wildlife that we were able to see in one day. (Although the landscape was entirely different from Masi Mara.) Overall, another truly, truly incredible day.

Day 7

Our last day, we were all a little bit sad to see the trip end. But, it was also time. This was the longest “organized” trip that Perry and I have done, and we have agreed that it will remain so. 7 days is enough.

We had time in the morning, before heading back to Nairobi, for a short boat trip on yet another lake, Lake Naivasha. This one is a fresh water lake. The draw of Lake Naivasha were the hippos, and the fish eagles. The boat drivers threw out fish for the eagles and it was pretty cool to see how very fast they were able to swoop down and scoop them up. I’m actually shocked that Perry got a photo of one. There were even more hippos than we had seen at Masi Mara, and I think they might have been noisier too. And, I just love being on the water, whether in a boat or in my swimsuit, so it was a perfect way to end the trip.

We were taken back to the Rock House, where I began the, what seemed like insurmountable, task of going through our thousands of photos and we spent the afternoon chatting with Jaime, Christina and Adam while they waited to catch their flights home. (Fremon and Pablo had headed by bus to Tanzania that afternoon)

Perry and I had been prepared to leave the luxury of the IntoAfrica and the Rock House and get back on budget. However Patrick, the Kenyan Director for IntoAfrica and the owner of the Rock House, was kind enough to let us stay on there at our budget price. We took full advantage and spent two nights there, resting and preparing for our next adventure. It was a great place to ready ourselves, what with Lydia’s tasty dinners, a cozy fire built each night, and Lydia even taking Perry on his first “Matatu” (absolutely crazy public transport consisting of minivan, very loud pumping music, and insane drivers) to the supermarket to shop for our supplies.

After such a fabulous safari, and then all of this comfy rest and being spoilt, mostly by Lydia and Duncan, we were ready get some exercise . . . Mount Kenya here we come.

For our many, many photos, go to http://gallery.me.com/adamschen

Dubai and Nairobi, July 18 (Perry)

2009-08-12T01:03:00.000-07:00

Dubai

After 5+ amazing months in Asia, both Jen and I had mixed emotions as we headed to the Bangkok airport. Both of us were a bit sad because we were finally leaving Thailand, a country that both Jen and I love. But the predominant feeling for the both of was a mixture excitement and fear. Reading the East Africa LP, we began to feel that the days of easy traveling were behind us. It doesn’t help the matter that Nairobi, the capital city of Kenya and our first stop, is known to be one of the more dangerous cities in Africa. But at the same time, we were feeling an obvious amount of excitement. Excitement of entering the unknown once again and leaving the comfort behind us. Our first stop in Africa would be Kenya and more specifically, the capital city of Nairobi. Excitement for the almost the same reason as the fear, for getting out of our comfort zone and starting a new leg of our trip.

Leaving Bangkok at 1:00 am, we wouldn't arrive in Nairobi until 7:00 at night. While a substantial layover was involved, thankfully for us it was in Dubai and it was long enough to actually do something with the time. Seeing that we would be arriving at 4:00 am in Dubai and departing for Nairobi at 3:00 pm, we figured we had plenty of time to leave the airport and check out some of the city sites. This time, both Jen and I were in complete agreement that the only way to do this was by an organized half-day tour.

Both of us were looking forward to seeing Dubai but we knew that if we didn't get any sleep on the flight, we would be in for a long day. Unfortunately for us, Air Emirates was not very accommodating to our needs. Usually it's me who can't resist staying awake and watching as many movies as possible, but this time, the 100 plus channels even got to Jen. While I only slept about an hour and a half more than Jen, the fact that I got any sleep at all would prove later on to be very beneficial.

Arriving on schedule, we had plenty of time to secure our visa, freshen up a bit, and catch a small bite to eat before we headed out of the airport to meet up with our tour group. Despite the 8:00 start time, we still managed to cut it pretty close as finding the meeting point turned out to be more difficult than we thought. Throw in the fact that by 7:30 in the morning it was already around 28 celsius, and you can see why we quickly abandoned our effort on foot and jumped into the nearest taxi. When we did finally make it to the meeting point, we were pleasantly surprised to find that it was just the two of us on the tour.

The itinerary for the day would concentrate on the newer developments in the city, such as the Palm and World Islands, various humongous and over the top malls, the Burj Al Arab (7 star hotel shaped like a sail) and the Burj Dubai (world’s tallest structure). While the sites were very impressive, what stands out for me was the heat. After our time in Asia, we both thought that heat wouldn't be an issue anymore. However, in Dubai, we were quickly reminded that we are Canadian and not made for this type of weather. Being a muslim region, Jen figured she should dress conservatively meaning covered shoulders and covered legs. She opted for cargo pants and a thin long-sleeve black top (black!?!). Me, I wore by swim trunks and Beer Lao shirt.

The tour started out interesting enough as by the second stop, we were on the beach looking at the world-famous 7 star hotel. Pretty amazing site. Still more amazing though was the more than 35 degree weather that early in the morning. At this point, I knew that it was going to be a long day for Jen. After returning to the van, the only words she could muster were, "I can't believe how hot it is. It's just so hot." This phrase would continue to dominate Jen's vocabulary for the next few hours as we stopped along the way. I also knew that the lack of sleep was starting to get to Jen as the head-bobbing started in the first hour. I felt pretty bad for Jen as here I am, wearing my standard beach attire while she's wearing an outfit more suited for a fall hike in Calgary.

In the end, the half-day tour was pretty good and we did manage to see some of the major sites. What I enjoyed seeing was the amount of construction that's still going on in Dubai. You know the email that was circulating awhile back showing how fast Dubai was developing? Well, it wasn't lying. The city is still full of cranes and half-constructed buildings. However, some projects seem to have been halted, and in many parts of the city there appears to be more incomplete than complete.

Nairobi

The flight to Nairobi was quite uneventful and for the life of me I can't remember what movie I watched (this is rare). Most likely because the two of us were in and out of sleep the whole way. While in Phuket, reading and planning for Kenya, we went ahead and booked a safari with a company called IntoAfrica. While the safari didn't start right away, the company was nice enough to find us some accommodations for the first few nights in Nairobi and to pick us up from the airport. Thank goodness. Once we picked up our bags and left the arrivals terminal, the airport was a complete sea of touts and taxi drivers, much worse than anything we had seen before.

Arriving at our accommodation, it was easy to see that this wasn't "Asia traveling" anymore. The Parkside Inn was definitely midrange in terms of price but in terms of value, it was probably the worst we've had since traveling. That being said, the place did have its good points. In addition to being centrally located, the place had in-house security and a great little restaurant that served a tasty english breakfast. After such a long journey getting here, we pretty much crashed as soon as we checked in.

The next morning, I woke up before Jen and decided that I would head outside to check out the area. Arriving at night, I didn't get much of a chance to see our surroundings. I didn't get 5 feet of the exit before I was chatting with a couple of men, who were all interested in finding out my plans while in Nairobi. Maybe it was the early morning or the lack of sleep but for whatever reason, I found myself chatting with these guys for about 30 minutes or so, revealing more information than necessary. I finally came to my senses near the end of the conversation and simply said, "Sorry, I can't make any decisions until I chat with my wife." Usually I would cringe upon saying these words, but good thing that I came up with this little excuse because somehow these guys had got me talking about doing a walking tour of Nairobi and potentially another safari with them. While I never said anything concrete, my feigned interest in the conversation was good enough for them. From that point on, whenever we left our hotel, there they were, asking us what our plans for the day were and trying to get us to simply go to the office and check out the various tours. In the end, we never booked anything with them but they actually turned out to be pretty nice guys.

Our first day in the city, we decided to check out the National Museum which was only about a 20-30 minute walk from our place. Although everything we've read says to avoid walking the streets at night, I felt pretty proud of ourselves when we successfully made it to the museum without incident. My pride was perhaps unwarranted, since it was actually mid-day . . . . About the only "incident" we had was when we stopped at an intersection to determine whether we should go left or right. A older gentlemen stopped and asked where we were going. I hate the fact that I immediately thought, "Okay, what's he selling?" so I reluctantly answered the musuem. Well the man turned out to be nothing but kind, pointed us in the right direction and gave us a friendly "Karibu Kenya", or "Welcome to Kenya".

The museum was quite impressive and we ended up spending the better part of the day there. In addition to the various cultural artifacts and of course, the many large and detailed animal displays, the museum is home to many of the significant finds concerning human evolution. They don't refer to Kenya as the "birthplace of man" for no reason as some of the oldest "human" remains ever found were found here. Despite all the culture and history the museum had to offer, it was the lunch that day that probably gave us the quickest introduction to Kenyan culture.

Scanning the menu at the museum cafeteria, nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary and in the end, I decided on the mutton and Jen had the grilled fish. The side dishes were something entirely different. Not wanting to settle on plain old rice, we both opted for the local favorite called ugali, which is made from maize flower and water. After the first bite of ugali, it is obvious why it is, and will always remain just a local favorite. It’s really hard to describe the taste as I think most Kenyans believe it to be tasteless, but I would say that it has the definite aftertaste of white glue. Texture and appearance wise, it’s a cross between mashed potatoes and a bath sponge. Suffice it to say, that has been our one and only ugali experience.

The next day we continued our tour of Nairobi by heading to the Kenyatta Conference center which, despite the age of the building, is still Nairobi’s tallest. The building essentially looks like a tall apartment building with a ufo-shaped viewing deck placed on top. Although the building itself is not much to look at, it does offer some pretty nice views of the city and surrounding areas. After some obligatory photos, we took the elevator ride down and made our way to the next site. It was at this moment that we, I’m embarrassed to say, fell for our first Kenyan scam. Embarrassed not because we got scammed but because not only did we see it coming, we allowed it to continue to fruition. Here’s some background information. On the first day that we arrived, a man approached us and asked where we were from. Replying “Canada”, the man asked us what Canadians think of black people. We replied that Canadians treat black people like they treat any other race, equally and very kindly. Of course, hearing the desired answer, he continues on to say that he is from Zimbabwe and that because of his country’s problems he has fled to Kenya to look for work and that if we could help him out in any way it would be appreciated.

Now back to the current situation. Leaving the conference center, a man approached us and started to ask us where we were from. Again, he asked us what Canadians think of black people and we replied accordingly. Next, he began to ask us what the Canadian university system is like and that he would love the opportunity to ask us some questions. Don’t ask me why or how, but before we even had a chance to say no, Jen and I found ourselves seated with this complete stranger in a nearby restaurant. I just want to remind everyone that even as this is happening, we both know that we’re getting scammed.

Anyways, as we’re seated, the man continues on by saying he’s a student from Zimbabwe and that he and his friends came to Nairobi to look for work and that later on today, they must jump on a train to take them back home. Oh yeah, and they don’t have enough money for the trains so if we could help them it would be appreciated. Even though I didn’t believe this guys story, I still felt for him and believed that he needed money. But even my compassion and naivety has a limit and the limit was crossed when our waiter came and this guys, without even a polite look-over, proceeds to order food and a drink. This was the last straw for Jen who bluntly but politely said, “While we don’t mind paying for lunch, we are not in a position to give you any money at this time.” Start the fireworks. The man replies with something like, “I’m not talking to you, I’m talking to the man over here.” I’m cringing at this moment and thinking to myself, “Buddy, you are crazy if you think I’m going to go over my wife’s head and give you money.” Of course I knew it was time to leave when, after Jen replied with a surprised and stern “excuse me”, the man basically waved us off and told us to leave. Check please.

In the end, the total damage was only around 100 KSH or about $1.50 Canadian. I know it’s not politically correct to say, but in hindsight it would have been awesome if one of us had answered his “How do Canadians treat black people” question with, “The same way we treat Asians, terribly”. Anyways, the damage was minimal but it did leave both Jen and I in a sour mood for the rest of the day, which is a shame because I think we both would have enjoyed the art and crafts on display at the Nairobi Archives (our next stop) more had we been in better moods. I think what probably calmed us down the most was that right after the archives, we booked our trekking trip on Mt Kenya. More on that later but the excitement of having booked it definitely brightened our moods.

After having “survived” the city center of Nairobi we were somewhat relieved to be heading to Karen, a suburb of Nairobi named after Karen Blixen, best known as the author of “Out of Africa”. Our safari company had suggested moving to their guesthouse in Karen, called the Rock House, as that’s where the safari starts from. As you read “Rock House”, you literally need to picture a rock house because this place was something out of the “Flintstones”. As nice as the place turned out to be, the best part of our move was that it gave us chance to see some great sites and to meet and get to know some of the IntoAfrica staff. For starters, Lydia, who runs the show at the Rock House was the nicest woman who would do anything to make us feel at home. Because we were the only ones staying there the first day, that meant a lot of attention and a lot of good home cooking.

Once Jen and I finished our four-course lunch, Lydia asked us what we wanted to do for the rest of the day. Near to the guesthouse was a Giraffe Center, where they breed and integrate into the national parks, the endangered Rothschild giraffes, so we said we’d like to go there. Before we could even say anything, Lydia was on and off her cell phone and a guide had been arranged to take us there. This was our first meeting with Elijah, who we were happy to later find out, would be our guide for the safari. I don’t know why, but I really didn’t know what to expect at the Giraffe Center. Yeah, I knew there would be giraffes there but I didn’t realize that we’d be able to get so close to them. Standing on a raised walkway, you could feed and touch the giraffes. If you held some feed in a closed fist, you could feel the giraffes biting at your fingers trying to get in. Thank goodness they’re herbivores. I even held a longer piece of food in my teeth and had the giraffe “kiss” me on the lips. Correspondingly, it took many days and many teeth brushings before Jen would kiss me again.

The next day and the last one before we headed out on safari, we decided to check out the David Sheldrick Wildlife Trust, or as I like to think of it, the place where they have baby elephants and rhinos!!! Still full from Lydia’s previous night’s feast, Jen and I sat down for breakfast, which at first glance looked a bit more reasonable in size. Close to where we sat was a self-serve station consisting of tea and/or coffee and cereal with all the fixings. After serving myself a medium-sized bowl I sat down and started to enjoy my light breakfast. “You know there’s going to eggs and some sort of meat for breakfast.” Jen said. “Bet you fifty bucks that it’s only cereal.”, I replied. Since what is mine is Jen’s and vice versa, we didn’t bother exchanging any funds but let’s just say that I was very full that morning. Arriving to pick us up once again was Duncan, the same nice man who picked us up from the city center. While we really liked all the people we met with IntoAfrica, Duncan was our favorite. Not only was he super nice and interesting to talk to, he constantly went out of his way to help Jen and I get around. Thankfully, Duncan would also end up going on safari with us as one of the drivers.

Since we’d arrived in Nairobi, it always seemed that wherever we went, Jen and I were really the only tourists around. Not at the Wildlife Trust. Getting there about 10 minutes before opening, the place was packed and a hefty queue had already formed. Regardless, the place was worth the wait as we got to see up-close tons of baby elephants, some as young as a few months, feed and play around. What made it more worthwhile was hearing how some of the elephants had been orphaned and how they were eventually rescued and brought to the trust. Their stories were quite sad, and most involved poachers is one way or another. But the real star of the show was the baby black rhino, who was the last to make his appearance. Dressed in a little blue “jacket”, the baby rhino made his way to the excited crowd. I love baby elephants, but this baby rhino was ridiculously cute. Anyways, the rhino was definitely more shy than the elephants and after about 10 minutes he was gone.

Although we’ve only been in Kenya, Nairobi to be precise, for 5 days, I can honestly say that I love it so far. Yeah, when we first arrived I was bit weary and intimidated by the city. I hate to say it but having grown up in Regina, and then seeing nothing but Asian people 24/7 for the last 5 months, it was a bit of a culture shock when we first took to the streets. So much of a shock that within the first few steps I said to Jen, “I just can’t believe how many black people there are here.” Um, not sure what I was expecting?!

After spending some time in the city, the place has definitely left an impression on me. It’s not that Nairobi is the most fun city we’ve been to or that the sights we’ve seen have been the most amazing, it’s just the overall vibe of the place. Maybe it’s the fact that compared to Southeast Asia, Kenya feels a little more like the road less traveled. Or maybe it’s because the people that we’ve met, from the guys on the streets to the safari company staff, have been so nice. Whatever it is, I really can’t place my finger on it. I only know that I like it and I’m looking forward to the days ahead.

Bangkok, Hua Hin, and Phuket, July 14 (Jen)

2009-07-18T09:22:00.000-07:00

After almost 3 months in Laos, Vietnam, and Cambodia, arriving back in Bangkok felt like coming home. You might think it was the Starbucks, but actually it was my most amazing and wonderful Thai family that made us feel at home. We stayed with Thip for the second time, and she and Art took great care of us. Not to mention Moay, Thip’s help, who had a tasty Thai breakfast waiting on the table every morning and cheerfully did our laundry for us. Yes, we were completely spoiled at Thip’s place.

We spent quite a few days shopping. Bangkok has amazing shopping. I pretended that I was looking for items we really needed for our Africa trip, however the giant box we sent home on our last day in Bangkok tells a different story. In my defense, if I actually had a job right now it certainly would’ve been much worse. ;-) We did manage to get the essential items we were missing due to our lack of planning for anything beyond Asia (i.e. a tent, sleeping bags, water purification, etc.).

We also attempted to prepare our bodies for the next six months, thanks to the gym in Cakewalk’s building. Although, the progress we made working out was tempered by the copious amounts of delicious food we ate with my Thai family, and the 2 weeks we spent lounging in Phuket. To further our goal of getting healthy for the second leg of our journey, we also got a check up and a malaria test in Bangkok. I had read somewhere that it is possible to have malaria, but not show symptoms until later on. I was afraid that if we got sick in Africa, we may not know with which strain, and therefore might not get proper treatment. I am paranoid. My mind is at ease now though, as we both checked out just fine. (Don’t worry Moms, we will take the anti-malarials in Africa . . .)

Apart from shopping, our time in Bangkok was spent eating, catching up with my host family, eating, catching a few movies, and, well, eating. My host family knows all of the best restaurants everywhere they go, and exactly what to order. It is amazing food, and I cannot believe I managed to gain only 5 pounds. (I’m hoping all the hiking in Africa will get me back to normal . . .) Seriously though, I was so so happy to have some time to just hang out with all the sisters, and to see Mama and Papa a few more times. This family is truly made up of the most kind, sweet, and thoughtful people you could ever meet.

Our first weekend back, we were lucky enough to accompany Thip, Art, Nee, Lek, and Nee’s friend Oil to Art’s condo in Hua Hin. As you’ll see from the photos, these guys know how to make the most of a weekend trip. And Nee’s friend Oil is a fantastic photographer (Most of the pictures are hers, partly because we forgot our camera, but mostly because she took great shots.). Hua Hin is where the King of Thailand now lives, and is a major weekend destination for Bangkok residents. The beach was a little yucky (think everybody walking their dogs on the beach, but nobody picking up the poo), but the pool at Art’s place was perfect for swimming. Not to mention the view from his balcony and, of course, the amazing seafood we ate while we were there. (Did I mention that this family always knows the most amazing places to eat?) We also got a chance to visit Mama, Papa, and Nong Jin, along with some other of Mama’s relatives, who were attending a 5 day meditation retreat at a nearby temple.

In between all of the shopping and visiting, Perry and I stole away for what was supposed to be one week, but ended up being two weeks, in Phuket. I’ve not much to tell you about Phuket because we literally did nothing there. The entire purpose was to read our East Africa and Southern Africa Lonely Planet books thoroughly, get ourselves prepared and planned for the next few months, and generally recharge our batteries. I won’t say there wasn’t a tiny bit of tension between us as we both started to get stressed out over the various safety warnings, and the big budget jump we realized was coming. We had expected that our days of “living the life” on the cheap, as we’d gotten used to in Asia, were likely over. However, I don’t think we’d realized the full extent until after our couple of weeks research in Phuket. In the end though, after all the reading, internet searching, and of course more than a couple of Singha by the pool (got to make the most of it while we can!), we felt as ready and prepared as we were going to get. It was time to go!

Leaving Asia was emotional, especially for me because I still feel very attached to Thailand and to my family there. I think Perry felt it as well. We had become very comfortable in the region. We felt a mixture of sadness, nervousness, and pure excitement boarding the plane first to Dubai, and then to Nairobi.

I have to thank my wonderful Thai family for making our last days in Asia so wonderful. So many special last dinners stick out for me, including Chinese food with the whole family, dinner by the river with the gorgeous view of Wat Arun, and “the last supper” dim sum with Thip and Art on the way to the airport.

Since I have talked about them so much, I want to introduce each member of the Laoruanglert family so you can have some idea as you view our photos . . .

Thip - The most talented pastry chef, not to mention savy business woman and owner of Cakewalk. So busy, with a constantly ringing cell phone, Thip was still always willing to make time for some fun shopping, sightseeing, or to share a meal with us. J’Thip looks out for all of her younger sisters, including me!

Art - Talented designer of women’s clothing, Art’s name suits him perfectly. He is the one who takes care of Thip, the love of his life. Thank you Art for taking us everywhere!

Nong Jin - The busy organizer. Jin has many roles and many jobs, including helping Mama and Papa in the family business (SC Scrap Company), and helping Thip out with Cakewalk. Taking care of us and making us feel welcome was one more task she took on for herself. This girl is one of the most thoughtful people I’ve ever met.

Nong Lek - The most photogenic person I know. She loves the camera and the camera loves her too. I can’t believe anyone can look that cute all the time. Nong Lek thoroughly enjoys every minute of her life. She graduated her Masters while we were in town, and received her certificate directly from the princess.

Nong Nee - When I first saw Nong Nee this trip I said “You’ve grown so much!”. She said, “Oh Jenny, no . . . !” She tells me she hasn’t grown any taller at all, but she has definitely grown up since I last saw her. I was so happy we got to spend some days together in Hua Hin.

Nong Jan - No longer Papa’s baby, Jan is a pretty, young student with lots of talent as well. She is still studying, but finds time to help out Thip with product designs for Cakewalk. She lives with Thip during school, but was staying at the Bangbon house (where I used to live) most of the time we were there, focused on her thesis.

Mama - Mama has barely changed in the past 13 years. Mama is Mama to all her beautiful daughters, and to the lucky exchange students who get to be a part of this family. While we were in town, the family had a Japanese girl, Midori, staying with them. I could see Mama taking care of her the same way she used to take care of me. During the many massive feasts we had together, both during my year here and during this visit, Mama spends most of her time putting food on everybody’s plate but her own. I guess that’s the secret to staying beautiful and thin! If only I had the will power . . . .

Papa - It is a special man who can survive in a family of 6 women, and still invite more students into his home. Papa is so kind, a proud father, and a very successful business man. And, he absolutely LOVES Elvis Presley. He has become more interested in prayer and meditation over the years. (The bedroom where I used to stay has been converted into a Buddhist prayer room.) While we were in town, he (and Mama and Jin) toughed it out sleeping on the floor of a temple for 5 days at a meditation retreat near Hua Hin. Papa confided to his girls that unfortunately he hadn’t slept at all . . .

And of course, I also need to introduce you to Oh, who, along with Amber, was my girlfriend lifeline when I lived in Bangkok all those years ago. I’m so happy that I got a chance to see Oh and to connect with her again.

Oh - Oh is a lifelong friend. Even though we hadn’t spoken for so many years, it was easy to pick up where we left off. She was my girlfriend lifeline once more, as hanging out with Perry 24/7 has its’ positives and negatives (mostly positives though!). We had so much fun together in Chiang Mai, and again in Bangkok. We can’t wait for Oh to come and visit us in Canada. She is a professor at ABAC (an english university in Bangkok), so we're sure she can find the time during summer break. And, her travel bug is just as bad, if not worse, than ours . . .

For photos of all of these special people, and of our last few weeks in Asia, got to

http://gallery.me.com/adamschen

Siem Reap, Jun 13 to 16 (Perry)

2009-07-10T07:54:00.000-07:00

Literally minutes before hoping on the bus to Siem Reap, Jen and I were able to secure a guesthouse along with a pickup from the bus station. People were actually waiting in the bus while I sent the email. Oops. Good thing though because what should have only been a 4 hour bus ride ended up being closer to 7, bringing us to Siem Reap in the middle of the night. Upon arrival, getting off of the bus was nothing new. Swarms of hotel touts and tuk-tuk drivers crowded the bus door, all vying for our business. At this point in our trip, we expect this scene and we’ve even gotten used to it, but having to deal with it at night and in a new town can be kind of unsettling. For this reason, you can imagine how happy and relieved we were when we finally found our driver in the crowd and he quickly herded us to his ride. Maybe it was because we saw him as our “savior” of sorts at that moment, or simply because he was such a nice guy, but for whatever reason “Chad”, as the guesthouse had named him, would be a prominent figure in our time in Siem Reap.

After settling in at the Rosy Guesthouse, a quaint place run by a super friendly European couple (the guy’s name was “Smiley” and he totally suited his name), we decided to check out the guesthouse restaurant. The main (if not only) reason to come to Siem Reap is to check out the temples of Angkor, the ancient capital of the Khmer empire. Often referred to as the eighth wonder of the world (per LP), the temples of Angkor are best identified with Angkor Wat, the largest religious building in the world (per LP), but are in fact numerous temples covering a significant bit of ground. Enter “Chad”. Shortly after completing our meal, Chad approached our table and asked what we were planning on doing tomorrow, knowing of course that we would want to visit the temples. Well, for $15 a day Jen and I could have our own personal tuk-tuk complete with guide, Chad. For Jen and I, this was a blessing. Honestly, trying to read up on all the temples and coming up with a plan of attack was a daunting, if not impossible task. Based solely on the LP’s descriptions and suggested itinerary, we had sort of an idea but no plan really. But Chad, he brought to the table a detailed 3 day schedule that would show us the highlights. Done!

With our guide and ride in place, we set off the following day where our first stop would be Angkor Wat. I can’t speak for the both of us, but I was pretty excited as we approached in our tuk-tuk and when we finally saw the temple itself, I was blown away. I mean, I knew the temple was big but I didn’t realize just how big until I saw it. For the next couple of hours, Jen and I explored the temple grounds, constantly being amazed by the detail and craftsmanship on display. We finally returned to our tuk-tuk and just as quickly, we were off to the next site.

Before arriving in Siem Reap, I joked with Jen that all I wanted to see was the one temple, Angkor Wat and then we should get the heck out of there. 3 day pass? More like a one hour pass. Well, as we rode the tuk-tuk to our next destination, the thought of “I’m done, nothing more to see here.” kept popping in my head. Well thankfully I kept my mouth shut. As we rode from one temple to the next, it become quite clear that there was much more to see than simply Angkor Wat. Now I’m not going to say that every temple we visited that day blew me away but there were definitely some standouts. For me, Bayon at Angkor Thom, with it’s 200 + rock faces and Ta Prohm, where the roots of ancient trees strangle the stonework, were amazing to see. I really can’t do them justice so check out the photo gallery for pictures. There are many.

On the way back to our guesthouse, Chad asked us whether or not we wanted to catch the sunrise at Angkor Wat the next day. That would mean being at the temple around 5 am and leaving the guesthouse thirty minutes earlier. Exhausted from the day and from the heat we thought it would be best to save our answer for later (because at that point it would’ve been “NO!”). Between the two of us, Jen loves sleeping much more than I do. Since we’ve been traveling, I usually wake up around 5:30 - 6:00 am everyday. Jen, closer to 8:30 unless we have somewhere to be or something to do. For those of you who have never had an early morning Jen experience, let me just say it can be interesting so when it comes to decisions involving early mornings, I usually let her decide. In this case, it was a no-brainer.

Finding ourselves in the tuk-tuk once again, but this time in the darkness of early morning, I kept having the thought that Jen and I would arrive at Angkor Wat and that we’d be 2 of but a handful of people taking in the sunrise. Don’t ask me why I thought this because only a day earlier the temple was packed. I guess it was more wishful thinking than anything and I quickly realized this when I saw 4 or 5 minibus tours pass us along the way. Regardless, the sunrise was amazing even if we did have to share it with a few hundred strangers. And because of our early start, many of the other temples that we saw that day were virtually empty. In all, we managed to fit in 6 temples before 1:00 p.m. and while there was definitely more to see, we were done for the day.

Feeling more lazy than actually tired, we took advantage of our room’s DVD player and the guesthouse’s extensive collection of movies. I was excited to see that they had “Slumdog Millionaire” as both Jen and I both wanted to see it. First off, I loved the movie. For those of you who have never seen the movie, it talks about child labor/slavery in India and shows how kids are taken, trained, and ultimately put on the street to collect money for these gangs. What saddened us more than the movie, was that Jen and I were seeing this everyday in Siem Reap. While exploring the sights at Angkor, there are two constants. The first is historical beauty and the second, unfortunately, is swarms of children who are either begging or selling. It really is sad to see these kids all programmed to say the same things over and over again. You want to give them money or buy something from them, but at the same time you know it’s more likely than not that very little if any of the money is going to benefit the kids. What makes it even tougher is that some of the kids are pretty good salespeople. Once they found out where we were from most of the kids would say, “Canada, prime minister Stephen Harper. Capital, Ottawa. Mister, you buy something?”. One of the kids even challenged me to a game of tic-tac-toe, where if I lost I would have to buy a book of postcards from him. Never being one to give up the chance to beat a kid at a kid’s game, I accepted and proceeded to lose royally. In my defense, I was hustled and while I didn’t end up buying anything from him, I did give him some riel that time.

While most of our days were spent temple hopping, we did manage to check out a bit of the town at night. While you would probably never come to Siem Reap for the city itself, it has some pretty nice areas. The main strip in the city definitely is “Pub Street” (the road’s actual name). During the day you probably wouldn’t even notice the street, but at night there’s no way you could miss it. Closed to cars and motorbikes at night, the street is lit up and buzzing with people, albeit mostly tourists. For this reason, some of the places are a bit overpriced but the couple of restaurants we tried out were both reasonably priced and very tasty. Of course, it doesn’t hurt to have happy hour specials offering 2 for 1 cocktails and pints of Angkor Beer for 5000 riel (less than a dollar).

In total we spent 5 nights in Siem Reap, with nearly 3 full days of taking in the temples. Yup, we actually made it out for a third day but in hindsight two days was plenty for us. We actually ended up spending more time in the tuk-tuk than anywhere else on the 3rd day as the two temples that Chad took us to required 3 hours of travel there and back. There was a nice little hike involved though, which made it worthwhile.

Siem Reap was our last stop in Cambodia. It seemed we were always on the move in that country. We really didn’t settle in anywhere for an extended period of time. Not our usual pace. After 4 months of traveling where we really never rushed, we felt almost guilty to leave Cambodia after only 2 weeks. I guess the next logical question to ask is where were we rushing off to? Well, nowhere really. But with Africa looming in the next few weeks, I think Jen and I both wanted to get away from the backpacking life a bit, and have a chance to recharge our batteries. Next stop, our home away from home, Bangkok. I know it might not sound like a relaxing stop to most of you . . . . but you’ve never met Jen’s host family.

Mekong Delta & Phnom Penh, June 7 to 12 (Perry)

2009-07-10T04:56:00.000-07:00

As we boarded the bus at the Sinh Cafe tour company in Ho Chi Minh City, Jen and I were looking forward to the Mekong Delta tour that would ultimately take us to Phnom Phen, Cambodia. Sure, for an extra $40 per person we could’ve flown and been in Cambodia in under 2 hours but we’d heard some good things about the Mekong Delta from fellow travelers and figured since we’re here we should see it. The tour was a two day affair of bus and boating on the Mekong with an overnight stop in Chau Doc, a small town in Vietnam along the Cambodian border. Sounds nice, right? In theory, yes but after four months of Southeast Asia, I’m afraid to say that Jen and I have become somewhat weary of these types of tours. After a while, you just want to get to where you’re going. It was only after our first stop at a local handicraft village that I realized that maybe we should have opted for the flight. First of all they are not villages, they’re stores and they’re not offering anything that you haven’t seen a thousand times before in the city streets.

The rest of the day consisted of a sub-par meal (is rice and pork fat really considered “a traditional vietnamese lunch”?), a performance of traditional vietnamese song and music (yikes!), and our arrival in Chau Doc. After seeing what the first day consisted of, we weren’t expecting much of the included accommodations. As it turns out we were right in keeping our expectations low. The second day started out with a row boat tour of a nearby floating village (sigh!) but the majority of the day was spent on the long tail boat to Phnom Phen. Figuring we’d be on the boat for the next 6 hours or so, Jen and I chose to sit in the back of the boat which offered a flat platform where you could stretch your legs or even lie down. Well, what looked like a definite step up from the regular bench seats turned out to be both good and bad. Sure, we were probably more comfortable than most of the other people on the boat but at the same time, we were probably 15 degrees hotter than they were as well. The platform-like area that we chose just happened to be right above the boat’s engine so instead of being merely hot in the 30 plus weather, we were literally roasting.

As it turns out though, our tour saved the best for last as the provided accommodation in Phnom Phen was quite impressive. This was not a case of keeping our expectations low, although at this point they were at an all-time low. The room was actually clean, big and very comfortable. In fact, we would’ve stayed there for the rest of the time but unfortunately the room was outside of our budget (yup, $25/night is officially out of our budget) and a bit too far from the city center. What kind of sealed the move to the city center was the fact that it took us over an hour to get back from dinner our first night in town. What is actually a 10 minute ride turned into an hour long adventure because, despite nodding his head and smiling, our tuktuk driver had absolutely no clue how to find our place, even with the hotel provided map. In the end we realized that he actually had no idea how to read maps, or maybe read in general. He, of course, didn’t want to tell us that and jeopardize the $3 fare. I think that was the first time we actually had to fire our tuktuk driver and find a new ride. (Jen still made me pay him $2 for the ride to . . . nowhere. Sucker.)

So the next morning we set off on a search for a new place to stay. We spent probably another hour in a tuktuk randomly driving around looking for a nice and cheap place (nonexistent in Phnom Phen, we learned), and finally settled on the OK Guesthouse. If ever there were an appropriate name for an establishment, this was it. Other than the dark and damp smelling rooms, the signs within the rooms kind of summed it up. While they start off as a general warning to tourists regarding the sex industry, things like “No matter how interested a girl may appear to be, she is most likely a prostitute and will demand money the next day” and “Please do not bring back any unregistered guests” they also go onto say that if you do need to bring back a "guest" to make sure you sign them in and walk them out. Nice.

After settling in, we set out to take in some of the sites. The National Museum offered us a taste of what to expect at Angkor Wat with an impressive collection of Khmer artifacts. Equally impressive was the Royal Palace, which displayed an assortment of architectural influences ranging from Khmer to French, and the Silver Pagoda, where the entire floor is covered with silver. While it may sound impressive, the section of the floor that was visible resembled more of steel than silver. Despite getting a late start in the day and battling the midday heat, we ended up with a full day of sightseeing.

In hindsight, our initial plan for day 2 of sightseeing was a bit ambitious but at the time it seemed pretty straightforward. Getting an early start to the day and having rented a motorbike, the plan was to visit the Killing Fields of Choeung Ek and then the Tuol Sleng Museum, both of which serve as a reminder of the horrific acts of the Khmer Rouge. On April 17, 1975 (um, my birthday) the Khmer Rouge engaged in one of the bloodiest revolutions in the world, when they took over Phnom Phen and went about collecting, imprisoning and ultimately killing millions of Cambodians, including the majority of the country’s educated people. From what we learned, the Khmer Rouge’s intentions was to make Cambodia a peasant-dominated rural society, where its citizens would live completely off the land. For fours years, money was abolished and urban centers were like ghost towns. It is estimated that approximately 2 million Cambodians (perhaps 1/5 of the country’s population) died as a direct result of the policies implemented by the Khmer Rouge.

After consulting with the LP, I found out that the drive out to the Killing Fields was about 14km outside of town and that thankfully, the route there is clearly signposted. For those of you who have been following the blog, you may recall one entry where I praise myself for my keen sense of direction. Well, as Jen is all too quick remind me, this experience has brought me back to reality. What should have been a 30 minute, uneventful drive turned out to be a frustration filled 3 hour trip. Did I use the odometer to gauge our distance travelled, you ask? I did but even as we reached the 40 km mark, I still didn’t think we had gone far enough. I mean, I didn’t see a sign and neither did Jen, so the best thing to do is to just keep on going, right? Only when it became glaringly obvious that we had gone too far (a mere 50 km from our starting point, when Jen finally lost all patience) did we finally stop, turn around and start asking some locals for directions.

After hours of driving, we finally arrived at the Killing Fields and while I can’t say the trip was worth it, the towering stupa (religious monument) filled with the remains of Khmer Rouge victims was eye-opening. Touring the surrounding grounds, more evidence of the horrors that took place here can be seen in the form of mass graves, and human remains and clothing that are poking out of the ground. While I had heard of the Killing Fields prior to coming to Cambodia, seeing it in person gave me a better understanding of how tragic the events really were. It was quite a raw and disturbing experience to see the stupa filled with actual people’s skulls, and actual people’s bones on the ground.

The next day, we visited the Tuol Sleng Museum, which was the prison used by the Khmer Rouge to house and torture their captives who would ultimately be taken to Choeung Ek. From the exterior, if not for the barb-wired fences surrounding the complex, Tuol Sleng still gives the appearance of its original intended use, a high school. Yet, once you enter the building itself, you are quickly reminded of the grim history surrounding the school. What’s interesting about the museum is that much has been left in the way that it was during its use as a prison. As we entered the first “room” in building “A”, which was used to house accused leaders of the opposition, you quickly realize the harsh living conditions these prisoners endured. Each room was 6 x 4 meters and in the middle of the room remained the bed frame and is some cases, the shackles that were used to tie down the prisoners. In addition, many of the rooms contained grim photographs showing the prisoners who were found dead in those actual rooms. In most cases, these photos showed prisoners who had been severely tortured laying on either blood soaked mattresses or floors. In fact, in some of the rooms you can still see blood stains on the floor.

Buildings “B, C, & D” consisted of a series of small individual cells that were created by dividing the floor with brick walls, and larger rooms that were used as mass cells. In some of the larger rooms, mug-shot style photographs of all the prisoners were on display. Apparently the Khmer Rouge were impeccable record keepers. What really stood out was the age range of the prisoners, anywhere from children to grandparents. Overall, Tuol Sleng was probably one of the more powerful museums that we had seen in Southeast Asia. Coming to Cambodia and not knowing all of its history, the museum was both graphic and informative. It certainly left Jen and I with a better understanding of what Cambodia and its people have gone through.

Apart from the heavy sights, Phnom Phen was a fairly nice city. It had nice coffee shops and restaurants (usually overpriced, but many were donating money for worthy local causes so we didn’t mind), a pretty good market, and loads of public green spaces. We mostly took it easy in the evenings though, so our impression might be a little rosier than some. One of the stranger things we encountered was a monk begging for cash from us in the afternoon. Still not sure if he was hungry, or heading down the wrong path, however I’d personally bet on wrong path. (I thought monks only ate in the morning? We did see some articles in the local papers discussing issues with monks in Phnom Phen.) Walking the streets, it was evident that there is definitely a lot of poverty and troubles in this city. After 4 days, we decided it was time for us to move on to Siem Reap.

For more photos http://gallery.me.com/adamschen

Ho Chi Minh City (Saigon), June 2 to 6 (Jen)

2009-06-12T09:37:00.000-07:00

Since we arrived in HCMC in the dark, I was glad that we had pre-booked a guesthouse, and an airport pick up. As time passes, I am less committed to spending as little as possible, and slightly more interested in preserving my sanity and comfort. Both of these were in good hands at “Happy Inn” where we stayed for our entire time in HCMC. It was a bit of a splurge at $25 per night, but it was truly time for a proper shower stall and a comfy bed with quality sheets.

Next morning, after allowing ourselves to sleep-in and take advantage of our upgraded accommodations, we set out with our LP in hand. We had “pho” for breakfast nearby our hotel, and proceeded to walk to the Reunification Palace. This is the spot where a North Vietnamese Army tank burst through the gates as Saigon fell to the Communists. We arrived just before 11am, and were promptly informed that it was closed to visitors between 11 and 1pm. Oops! Guess we should have read the LP, instead of just carrying it with us. So, we headed to a coffee shop we had seen on the way and enjoyed our first real coffee in Vietnam. By real coffee I mean western style americano, in a big paper cup. (As opposed to the small cup of super strong and syrupy sweet coffee we normally find here.) It’s amazing the things you miss from home. For us a proper coffee in a paper cup is definitely near the top of the list (after YOU of course). Our bad planning turned out alright as we had a nice chat with the staff at “Gloria’s Coffee”, then wandered around the city a little to see the Notre Dame Cathedral, have a good lunch, and locate one of the city’s malls and movie theaters at “Diamond Plaza”. We returned to find that there wasn’t so much to see at the Reunification Palace. After a look around, we assumed it was the historical significance of the spot that drew visitors and set off on our way. We didn’t find out until later on that exploring the basement is the most interesting part, which we didn’t know existed. (That wasn’t in the LP, I swear!)

Next we went to see the War Remnants Museum, previously called the Museum of American War Crimes. This was a truly eye opening experience. Of course the exhibits are one-sided, but even with that in mind it was difficult to stomach. One thing that I have learned on this trip is that the US government is not interested in cleaning up their messes. How do they not take responsibility for the effects of agent orange on Vietnamese civilians? How do they not clear unexploded ordinances from this region so the land can be used by locals? Are they repeating this pattern now in other parts of the world? Likely I was just ignorant to begin with, but find I have learned a lot of shocking information. Our visit to the museum was enriched by meeting an American Vietnam war veteran, Dick Harger (rhymes with “larger” he explained . . . ?!?). He had come to Vietnam to research and complete his memoirs. Initially, he was just looking for help in photographing some of the museum’s exhibits regarding agent orange. (You can see these in a separate album on our photo site.) We were lucky that he was willing to share his experiences with us and also joined us (actually treated us) for dinner on our last night in Saigon. He was a very nice and interesting man. It was easy to tell that this was an emotional visit for him.

After a full day of walking, we headed back to Diamond Plaza for a movie and a rest. Angels and Demons was pretty good, and the movie popcorn was kettle corn which was a great surprise! Ah, to be back in the city again. Perry & I have concluded that we are both definitely city people.

Second day in HCMC we got a late start again. However, this time we blame it on the pouring rain which kept us indoors until at least 10am. We headed for Cholon, or Saigon’s Chinatown. This endeavor mostly involved us wandering the streets searching for the many interesting markets supposedly in the area. After wandering through very busy and narrow streets selling loads of fabrics, then paper, then auto parts, we finally stopped for yet more pho and a break. (We do love pho!) Accepting defeat, we hopped in a taxi and ended up at Binh Tay Market, Cholon’s biggest. It was massive and overwhelming for sure, but didn’t have much that tempted us to part with our Dong. The only thing we purchased was a bag of cashews. Perry then headed to the gym, which was apparently steamy hot and full of locals at 5pm, and I headed back to Gloria’s coffee for some solo internet time. Yes, it’s a bit lazy that I didn’t join Perry for a workout, but I was still favoring my bum knee by that time and wasn’t up for it after two days of walking Saigon. (excuses, excuses . . .)

That night we went for Indian food with Lea, an Austrian girl we’d met on the train from Hanoi to Hue. We luckily ran into each other again by chance outside of Happy Inn. It is bizarre that these chance meetings seem to happen all the time. I guess all of us travelers really are on the same route, and staying within a few blocks of each other in most cities and towns. Even more bizarre though, was when I looked up from my “dahl” to see a girl I had worked with at PwC in Calgary! Yep, Amber McRae and her fiance Mark just happened to be eating in the same restaurant as us. Crazy small world. It was great to see a familiar face (even though she has been living in Cayman for the past five years!) and we had some drinks together that night.

Third day in HCMC we spent the morning at the Vietnamese Museum of Traditional Medicine. It was a challenge to find, but worth the search. We were the only ones there, so had a personal tour guide. I find that sort of thing interesting, especially the natural remedies that are still in use today. I had to resist purchasing all sorts of herbal teas. And of course, it was good touristy fun when our guide dressed us up in traditional wear and stuck us behind the counter for photo ops! I’m looking for votes on who looks more ridiculous . . . In the afternoon we moved on to the disappointing Jade Emperor Pagoda. Travelfish called it “atmospheric”, but Perry and I were wondering if we were perhaps at the wrong place. Nope. Address confirmed, we wandered through. I think Perry found the turtles out front the most interesting part. I suppose it was interesting just how many deities one could worship here, but it didn’t compare to the many spectacular temples we have seen so far in our travels.

Next morning was an early one, as we had booked a one day tour to the Cu Chi Tunnels and the Cao Dai Holy See (temple) in Tay Ninh. We were slightly unprepared and surprised when greeted with the initial 3 hour bus ride to Tay Ninh. We should have deduced that we would spend approximately 6 hours on the bus that day from the fact that there were only 2 stops on a full day excursion, but we didn’t. The ride was worth it though, as you can see from our photos of the temple. It was also interesting to see the “Holy See” because I’ve been reading “The Girl in the Picture” (the lifestory of Kim Phuc’s) and this temple is referred to in the book.

Cu Chi Tunnels were cool, if a little claustrophobic. I didn’t make it the full 100 meters of tunnel that they have enlarged and opened to tourists. To think that tunnel was actually bigger than the originals used by the VietCong! It is crazy to imagine how they lived underground like that. The video they showed us was crazy as well. It was obviously a little dated, and definitely wasn’t concerned with being “politically correct” for tourists. It was mostly a glorification of certain peasant soldiers who had succeeded in killing American soldiers. One was a young girl given some kind of award for “killing the most Americans”. Fairly blunt.

Our last day in HCMC was spent shopping on Ly Van Si, where we found trendy boutiques selling clothes much too nice for our current lifestyle, and in the fabulous Ben Thanh market, which was walking distance from our guesthouse. That market had absolutely everything we could want to send home from Vietnam, plus super tasty food stalls set up at night grilling fresh fish and huge prawns. Yummy! I think Dad would have been in heaven there.

After five full days in HCMC, it was time to go. Vietnam had worn me down. Don’t get me wrong. Vietnam has some truly spectacular scenery. And, we met some really, really friendly people there. But in general, the culture in Vietnam was just too “in your face” for me. Not sure if it was too much time in cities overrun with aggressive motorbike drivers, or just the fact that we have been away from home for 4 months by now, but I needed to get out. I was worried I might lose it on the 117th guy in a day relentlessly selling me sunglasses, or books, or a zippo, or marijuana, or . . . you get the picture. So, we made a compromise between the fastest and the cheapest way to Phnom Penh and booked a two day journey through the Mekong Delta and into Cambodia by boat. We’d splurged too much lately to justify another flight, and I wanted to give rural Vietnam a couple of more days to soften my impression.

For photos of our time in HCMC, see http://gallery.me.com/adamschen

p.s.

I have figured out how to add descriptions to the “back” of our photos. Look for the little “i” in the lower right corner. Click on that and you should be able to read my description if you are interested. =)

Hoi An, May 27 to June 1 (Perry)

2009-06-09T06:50:00.000-07:00

Continuing our way south, we arrived in Hoi An wanting to accomplish at least two things. One, enjoy local dishes only found in Hoi An and two, to shop. While Hoi An is known to many as a charming old port town set on the Thu Bon River and for its Chinese, Japanese, and European influenced architecture, most backpackers know it as shopping central. From the minute you set foot in town, tailors are all over you offering to custom-fit everything from suits to cowboy boots. Before arriving, Jen and I came up with a game-plan of sorts to best handle the ensuing onslaught. We decided that the first night we would just look and get a feel for which tailors were better than others. Also, we would try to spread our business around, essentially hedging our bets should we happen upon some lesser skilled tailors.

I decided that I would get a suit and some dress shirts made despite the fact that my workplace is fairly casual. As Jen put it, “It’s time for you to dress like a grownup”. At the age of 34, I guess she’s right. Jen was a bit more ambitious. In addition to a couple of business suits and dress shirts, she decided that she would get some other items of clothing made, items which include a nightie. More on that later.

For the suits, we decided to focus on quality over price. Our choice was a no-brainer. Walking the main strip in town, you couldn’t help but notice the place. Whereas all the other businesses were basically indistinguishable, A Dong Silk stood out. From the hardwood flooring, to the organized displays (mannequins without their “junk” hanging out) to the overall cleanliness of the place, it wasn’t hard to see why we chose this place. Thankfully for us, the quality of service matched the outward appearance. Having never had anything handmade and tailored to fit, both Jen and I were a bit overwhelmed at first. I mean, we’ve both never had to pick out our own fabric and design, nor have we ever had to worry about sleeve lengths, pant lengths, or skirt lengths. What color do you want the lining to be you ask? I have no idea. Luckily, we were matched with a couple of really sweet and really patient workers named Trang and Nee who helped us through the whole process. In my mind Nee, who was helping me out, got the better end of the stick. Not saying that Jen is very picky, but I’m pretty sure her fittings outnumbered mine 10 to 5. In her defense, she did have more items made and for some reason or another, the tailors would never use a “perfect” fitting item as a template for the other. I could definitely see some frustration setting in as Jen would get a shirt fitted, order a second thinking it would be at least similar, then have them come back completely different sizes. At least they made all of her requested changes with a smile.

In between all of our shopping, we managed to check out the rest of the town and some of the surrounding areas. Most of our time in town was spent in Hoi An’s Old Town. Set along the river, the Old Town is a collection of shops, restaurants, and cafes. Here, Jen and I experienced some of Hoi An’s local delicacies including Cao Lau noodles which, to be made properly, must use water from the nearby Ba Le well, and “white rose” dumplings (tiny shrimp dumplings). The dumplings were very tasty but both Jen and I couldn’t see what the big deal was about the noodles, even after trying a few different restaurants. Having rented a motorbike for a couple of days, we checked out one of the local beaches called Cua Dai. While I‘m not a beach person, I have to admit I was pretty excited to get back into the water. We spent a day chilling on some lounge chairs, soaking in the sun, and playing in the waves. Taking advantage of the gorgeous surroundings, we enjoyed a great seafood dinner along the beach that night.

Now back to the shopping. I mentioned earlier that Jen had wanted to get some simpler items made in addition to her suits. I believe the list included a skirt, a dress, and a nightie. (In the end, she also decided to gamble on a leather handbag.) For these simple items, we thought that using some of the smaller and cheaper tailors would be best. It all started out very promising. As we were trying to spread our business around, we visited 3 additional tailors to get the items made. The first stop was a shop run by a pleasant enough lady who would make a skirt and dress for Jen. She went through the motion of measuring and double checking all her numbers so all seemed good. We probably should have questioned our choice when she asked for full payment up front, but after agreeing upon a 50% deposit, we left her to her work. The skirt turned out alright but the dress turned into an ordeal. With tailored work, we assumed a couple of fittings would be in order. But, we also assumed that with each fitting the dress would actually change. Not in this case. Even I could deduce that the dress was a bit small when Jen needed help to get the thing off. In the end, Jen gave up on that lady and just got the people at A Dong Silk to fix up her dress.

The handbag process was a bit different but showed the same level of service. As with the skirt and dress lady, instead of actually listening to what Jen wanted, they simply tried to convince her that the way they made it was fine. Now, I don’t know much about handbags, but even I can tell when there’s about 2 extra inches of leather on the closing flap. After the fourth visit, they finally got it right.

The nightie experience was the most ridiculous. To set the scene, first let me describe what Jen had in mind. For some reason, about 95% of the women in Vietnam wear floral patterned pajamas as everyday clothing. Theirs are more the top and pants variety, but nevertheless, Jen seemed to agree with their logic . . . why not get something that can double day and night. What Jen had in mind was a loose fitting dress that in theory would look pretty good, and at the same time be comfortable enough for sleeping. I’m no tailor, but the design that Jen requested looked fairly simple. I wasn’t there for the first fitting, but all Jen could say afterwards was, “there’s just SO much fabric”. In fact the saleslady, who was pregnant by the way, even laughed that the dress would be better for her, and joked that there was enough room for three people. Thankfully I was able to witness the second fitting. The moment Jen exited the fitting room, I thought I was looking at the 5th Golden Girl. I mean, the thing was a gigantic mu-mu. Another couple who happened to witness the unveiling couldn’t contain their laughter either. Even the saleslady laughed, but still couldn’t quite fix it up after 3 fittings. Finally we figured it was more hassle than it was worth, and never went back. I wonder if that saleslady realizes or cares that we never came back to pick up our mu-mu. Maybe she’s wearing it, or perhaps is using it for bedsheets. Regardless, we’re pretty sure she’d already made her money on our 50% deposit. Lesson learned in Hoi An; we got what we paid for in all instances.

Worn out from the shopping adventures, we posted our suits home and caught a flight directly to Ho Chi Minh City (Saigon). By this time, we’d had enough overnight travel and determined that the extra $30 for a 1 hour flight versus a 16 hour bus was fully worth it . . . .

For our few photos of Hoi An, go to http://gallery.me.com/adamschen

Hue, May 25 to 26 (Perry)

2009-06-09T06:39:00.000-07:00

After our time in Northern Vietnam, the next stop for Jen and I was Hue. According to Lonely Planet, “Hue, which was the political capital of Vietnam from 1802 to 1945, is one of the country’s cultural, religious, and educational centers”. In other words, the town is filled with pagodas and tombs. Being that Hue is on the central coast of Vietnam, getting there turned out to be an exhausting experience which included 2 overnight trains in 3 days. The first train took us from Sapa to Hanoi, where we arrived at 4 in the morning. Because we had already spent 4 days in Hanoi, we booked a train leaving later on that night to complete the journey to Hue. Usually, having 11 hours to “kill” in a foreign city is an opportunity that Jen and I use to observe real life and to experience new things. Exhausted as we were, this time it meant hanging out in the mall, drinking a bunch of coffee, and catching the new Star Trek movie; which was amazing by the way (if you don’t believe me, just ask Jen).

Arriving in Hue early the next morning, Jen and I did something that we both said we would never do. Having traveled in Asia for a while now, it is inevitable that the two of us have become quite weary and skeptical of the numerous taxi drivers and guesthouse employees who are there to greet you the minute you exit a train, bus or airport. We’ve both said that, out of principle (i.e. so as not to encourage this bombardment), we would never go with the first person who approached us. This was the person who would be all up in your face before you even had time to put your pack on. In Hue, most likely because of the sleep deprivation, we hesitantly went with the first guesthouse. In this case, it all worked out.

The Binh Duong 2 hotel turned out to be one of the better accommodations that we’ve had in Vietnam. For only $15 USD per night, we had a clean, large room equipped with a refrigerator, satellite TV, air conditioning, free internet, balcony, and even a small sitting area. In fact this was the first guesthouse we’ve stayed in that offered room service. While this may not sound like the luxury that I’m trying to get across, please keep in mind that the longer we travel, the easier we are to please. After spending the first day recharging our batteries and taking advantage of the air-con in our room, we figured that the best and cheapest way to see the city’s many sites was to join a tour the following morning.

Hoping aboard a greyhound-sized bus, the tour started off at the Citadel (former imperial city), followed by stops at a traditional style Hue home, the “Heavenly Lady Pagoda”, and various tombs of former emperors (namely, if I remember correctly, the second, twelfth, and fourth emperors), and culminated with a “dragon boat” ride down the river. With all the great tours and guides we’ve had in the past 4 months, our luck was bound to run out sometime. It did in Hue. It’s not that the tour was necessarily bad but relatively speaking, it’s probably the worst tour we’ve been on so far. The sights themselves were generally nice with the tomb of the 14th Emperor, the traditional house, and the Heavenly Lady Pagoda sticking out in my mind. Perhaps it’s because Jen and I are not used to tours that size that we didn’t have best of times. At every stop, we were a group of 20 plus joining 2 or 3 more groups of equal size from other companies, and we were herded in and out of the sights. It felt like we were rushed at every stop and our time was so regimented. Our guide actually got mad at us for being a few minutes late getting back to the bus after one particular stop.

Actually the one thing that will stick out in my mind about the Hue tour is an incident that occurred at the second last stop of the day. First let me give you some background information to make myself look a little better. For those of you who have not traveled to Vietnam before, the people here are, how would I say . . . , a bit aggressive. Don’t get me wrong, we’ve met some really nice people here, but in general the Vietnamese are pretty aggressive. On this particular tour we were responsible for purchasing our own tickets to enter the sights and without fail, just as I was about to purchase our tickets, the same Vietnamese woman would simply push her way in and jump ahead of me. I mean literally, she would shoulder me out of the way to buy herself an extra minute at the sights. For almost the entire day, I was the bigger person and I conceded my position in line. Well, near the end of the day, I’d had enough. Oh, I let her push her way in but the minute she tried to leave the line, I timed a perfect shoulder check that rocked her against the ticket booth. If only you could have seen the smile on my face as I told Jen of my accomplishment. I do feel a tiny bit bad, but I must admit that as I write this paragraph there is a silly grin on my face.

Anyways, after having seen most of the sights of Hue in a day, we decided that it was time to get moving again so the following day we boarded the bus and made our way to Hoi An.

For photos of Hue, go to http://gallery.me.com/adamschen

Sapa, May 21 to 23 (Jen)

2009-05-30T00:19:00.000-07:00

In an attempt to spread our business around, and hedge our bets, we had booked an excursion to Sapa with another company in Hanoi, Ocean Tours, leaving on the overnight train that evening. I know what you’re thinking . . . we are getting soft, booking all of these “tours”. In our defense, we had to have a guide to do the trekking we wanted to do anyhow, and it just seemed cheaper to organize it in one fell swoop. So, with an hour or two between our arrival back in Hanoi from Halong Bay and our departure by night train to Sapa, we quickly grabbed dinner, charged our laptop and ipods for the ride, and headed off.

The train was comfy and I was having a very restful sleep when loud knocking on our door signaled we had arrived in Lao Cai, the gateway to Sapa. It was just after 4am. (And I am meant to go trekking today??) As we rode the bus from the train station in Lao Cai to Sapa town, things started to look up. The scenery was incredible. We were dropped at a hotel where we were able to shower, relax, and have breakfast before our trek began at 9:30. I had a little cat nap, but it did little to relieve how sleepy I was.

We had a group of five, a really nice New Zealand couple named Jettie and Felix, Perry, myself, plus our guide Mang, for the two days trek. Mang was truly the cutest thing ever. She is a tiny Hmong woman of 20, and was wearing her traditional clothing, a conical hat, huge hiking boots, and a North Face backpack. Adorable! She has a personality to match. Very sweet, obviously used to being around westerners, but brought up traditionally in the village near Sapa, she was able to give us insight into local life and way of thinking.

As we started out, it wasn’t difficult to notice that our group size had increased by 4 or 5 savvy hilltribe saleswomen. Luckily Mang warned us that saying things like “maybe” and “later” would only encourage these women to follow us for the entire two days, expecting us to purchase a blanket, shirt, or both upon our return. Even with a clear “No thank you. We are absolutely not going to buy anything, ever.” they kept with us for a couple of km. Luckily, Mang found us the perfect opportunity to escape.

Mang’s sister, Cheng, and Cheng’s husband were working in the fields by the side of the path. Mang asked if we wanted to try, and of course we all did. It was pretty muddy, but definitely fun. I think we were at it for about 45 minutes. I cannot imagine a full day! It is amazing to think that all of the rice terraces that you see in the pictures are built and planted by hand this way. Mang told us that she and her friends would often have crazy mud fights while planting rice together. I could see that it is definitely a job where you want to mix in a little fun.

After our rice planting, where we were likely more of a hassle than a help, Cheng graciously invited us to her home for lunch. She and Mang cooked up a fabulous meal. Mang summed it up when she said that “nothing is simple”. The rice we ate was planted and harvested by hand, the banana flower was picked, peeled, washed, and prepared by Mang, etc. Everything takes time and effort. This carries forward to the traditional clothing that they were all wearing, which they weave, dye using indigo, and sew into clothing themselves. Absolutely nothing about life there is simple or easy. It makes our lives seem quite easy; sitting in our ergonomic, air-conditioned offices, ordering take out for dinner, and annoyed over a couple hours of overtime. With this in mind, I was an easy sell when Cheng inevitably brought out her own hilltribe handicrafts to sell. I ended up with a bracelet which I’ll likely seldom wear but I’m happy to have.

Unfortunately, I left Cheng’s with a bum knee. Asking for the toilet, Mang directed me to “nature”. So, I respectfully tried to get as far off the path as possible. Getting back down turned out to be steeper than my sleepy head calculated and I came down too hard and at the wrong angle. Luckily I could keep hiking, but it’s still a little sore a week later.

After lunch us foreigners were getting anxious, as we recalled the first day trekking to be 14km and felt we had actually covered only 3 km or so by that point. We said our good-byes and continued on, only to stop also at Mang’s mother’s house for a rest and a chat. At this point, we all gave up on our exercise goals and enjoyed the unique experience that Mang was sharing with us. It was so strange to talk to her about her life in Sapa town and see her getting all sorts of calls and texts over her cell phone, then at the same time to see her family living in one room houses with dirt floors and no bathrooms. It seemed real collision of tradition and modernity.

The remainder of the day trekking was gorgeous, and luckily easier and shorter than we all expected. The highlight of the afternoon was when Felix dared one of the young boys along the path to prove he really could ride the water buffalo. Well, he proved himself alright, as did Mang. So of course our boys had to give it a whirl as well. Mang tried to get it running with Felix on top, but that buffalo was not interested. Too hot I guess!

Our homestay was with a family who has a little boy around seven and a baby girl around 14 months. They were fantastic and again provided us with a delicious traditional meal. The homestay was pretty modern, with hot water and a shower. Perry was quite impressed with me that I actually showered there though. I think my cleanliness standards are getting lower and lower, and I must be getting tougher. But really, how can you be expected to keep a clean bathroom, when the rest of your flooring is made of dirt?

It was interesting for me to observe the way this family cared for their children. They were obviously a very loving family. Often times though, the kids were left to their own devices. The baby girl was just crawling around in the dirt, both inside the house and out, getting into just about everything. Her parents were completely unfazed, I think because they just have too much other stuff to do. It seemed her big brother’s responsibility was to keep an eye on her, but he seemed to be the typical big brother and spent at least half the time picking on her. It’s funny when you compare how much we shelter small children with all kinds of antibacterial soaps and baby gates and such. These people just don’t have those luxuries. The parents did keep their little one close when they went out to work in the rice fields the next morning though, taking turns with her on their backs. The seven year old was left to watch the house. In the paths around the villages, there were many children as young as three or so just wandering around on their own. I suppose they are too heavy by that age to keep on your back while working and the parents likely have no other option. They have to work the fields to grow food, and there is certainly no daycare or social assistance. Again I was reminded that we are very lucky.

Second day was a gorgeous hike as well; similar terrain to the previous day with a bit more uphill. We visited a different ethnic group’s village, but didn’t have the same sort of special experiences that we had with Mang’s family. After lunch, Perry and I separated from the group to see a nearby waterfall, while Jettie, Felix, and Mang carried on for another night.

We had decided to stay one more day in Sapa to check out the town itself, so after the waterfall we set about finding a place to stay for the night and a place to eat. For dinner, we settled on a local restaurant that was packed full of Vietnamese people. (It must be good!) As we were looking over the menu, a large group at the next table invited us to do a shot of rice whiskey with them. So nice! Of course we did, and they insisted that we sit down to dinner and drinks with them. Although there were many plates of food on the table, it was definitely more about the drinks. I think I had about 10 shots while Perry must’ve had at least 15. Yikes! Normally I’d make sure to eat a bit to stay sober, but the food was . . . . very . . . authentic. Greasy pig skin, fat, and cartilage just wasn’t a good idea for me at that point. This group was so kind and friendly though, we just couldn’t refuse. So, we drank and stayed hungry. Luckily though, these guys knew when it was time to call it a night. All of them red faced, we headed to a nearby cafe for some potent Vietnamese coffee before saying our goodnights. Perry and I, once safely out of site, stopped for a bowl of noodles on our way home because we were just so hungry still. One of the guys signed a 50,000 VND bill for Perry, telling him he must keep it always for good luck. Perry has tucked it away safely with Mom’s good luck $1 bill that she gave each of us when we departed Canada. Hopefully this means we will have good luck and not run out of money before the end of our trip . . . . ;-)

Next day we hung around town. Mostly, I wanted to rest my knee which was hurting quite a bit after the second day trekking. We had a leisurely breakfast, checked out the market, and planned our next move in Vietnam. The only person who had to exert a lot of effort that day was Perry. A very small lady with a very gigantic and heavy bag of merchandise grabbed him in the market and put him to work! I think she liked his big muscles . . . He, along with her and about three other people, managed to lug the gigantic bag down the road to her shop. She was extremely grateful for the help. I’m not sure what she would have done had we not strolled by.

Late that afternoon, with the feeling that Sapa is a beautiful place full of very friendly people, we left to catch the night train back to Hanoi, where we planned to find a connection south.

For photos of Sapa go to http://gallery.me.com/adamschen

p.s. I think I have broken iPhoto with all of my photo quips and descriptions. Apple tells me only generic file names allowed. I'm not just getting lazy . . . . ;-)

Halong Bay, May 18 to 20 (Jen)

2009-05-29T18:11:00.000-07:00

While we try to do most destinations independently, reading the directions in our LP regarding Halong Bay made my head spin. Couple that with the huge variety of affordable and convenient tours leaving from Hanoi and we decided to give ourselves a break. Moving on to our trusty second source of info (www.travelfish.org - thanks Aunty Marsha!) we settled on a company called Handspan. As soon as we were on the bus, I knew we’d made the right choice. Our guides were super friendly and VERY informative. (Did you know that the conical hat has four functions? Four!) One guide, Duc, even hopped on a random motorbike to chase down the bus when one girl forgot her camera on board.

Regardless of how you get there, Halong Bay is gorgeous! I was so excited to be near the sea again, and was amazed by the over 3000 rocky islands jutting up out of the water. Our first day started out a bit rainy, but before long the sun managed to fight through and we had near perfect weather for the remainder of the three days. The first day and night we spent on a “junk”. I had never really encountered this term before, but regardless, this boat was anything but junk. We had a nice room with A/C (and more than a few mosquitos though unfortunately . . .), a lounging deck on top of the boat, and a delicious restaurant. The whole 3 day trip actually, they fed us way too much fantastic seafood. That afternoon, we enjoyed the view from the junk, and took a small tour of one of the many floating villages. Even though I am getting a bit over village visits by now, it was different than any we had seen to date. I couldn’t figure out why there were so many dogs, with no land around, but Duc (so informative!) enlightened me that theft from the villagers’ fish farms was a real problem. They needed the dogs to guard their livelihood during the night.

Next day we awoke to beautiful sunny weather. Originally there were six of us, but only four staying for three days. The other two in our group were really fun and interesting girls, Autumn from New York and Angelique from Holland. The four of us transferred to another boat and spent the day kayaking, swimming, sunbathing, and eating. Fabulous! Even Perry was bold enough to jump into the big bad ocean with no land in grasping distance. (You’d think he wouldn’t be so nervous after scuba diving . . . ) I was also afraid, but of the jellyfish we saw occasionally from our kayaks. I swallowed my fear though when Duc assured me that this type of jellyfish sting wouldn’t be too painful. (And that he had vinegar on board so we wouldn’t have to resort to other more primitive remedies . . . .) It was a perfect day which ended with a nice surprise. We were to spend our second night in a hotel on Cat Ba Island. Since the three day tour wasn’t too expensive, I wasn’t expecting much, but we ended up at what I found out later was the best resort on the Island. Cat Ba Sunrise Resort was a nice treat and we took full advantage of our fancy room and western style shower.

Over more seafood that night, Duc offered to join us for a motorbike trip the next morning prior to our return for Hanoi. All three of us girls were a little nervous, but he promised a lesson and that the roads on Cat Ba Island were nicely paved and not too busy. He also mentioned he found the road to be one of the most beautiful in Vietnam. We were sold! Next morning after a very thorough lesson for all three ladies, our motorbike gang was off. It was gorgeous, and definitely a fun drive. Duc also suggested a great local restaurant for lunch that was about 1/10 the price of our hotel and super tasty. It was a truly a perfect end to such a relaxing three days.

For more photos of Halong Bay, visit http://gallery.me.com/adamschen

Hanoi, May 15 to May 17 (Jen)

2009-05-29T08:10:00.000-07:00

After sleepy Vientiane, Hanoi appeared full of chaos. The streets are absolutely FILLED with motorbikes and every driver is constantly honking. No one stops, or even slows down. Although, drivers will do their best to avoid you if you don’t make any sudden or unanticipated movements. Since Perry and I were ready to pick up the pace anyways, this hectic atmosphere suited us just fine. When we arrived in the “Old Quarter” via airport shuttle bus, we had a short walk to our guesthouse, the Especen Hotel. Our walk took us right by Hoan Kiem Lake, where hoards of locals were exercising, meeting, chatting, eating, walking, and generally just hanging out. It was a great first impression of Hanoi, and of Vietnam.

Next few days we spent exploring the city. When I say exploring, I mean walking, walking, and walking. I refused to let Perry ride a motorbike in the crazy Hanoi traffic. (Thinking back though, I’m not sure that we were really much safer on foot . . . ) Our alternate transport options were limited. We learned quickly that taking one of the many “cyclos” (three wheeled bicycle taxi) constantly vying for our business brought on all sorts of unexpected conflict and cost. We used a cyclo three times in Hanoi and had only slightly varied experiences. The first delivered us to our agreed location and accepted our agreed price (yey!). The second tricked us into taking two cyclos instead of one (“My friend want to help me . . . ”) and attempted to charge us double, while dropping us near, but not at, our agreed destination. The third dropped us 3 blocks away from our destination and requested more money than the agreed price. Yikes! Add to that our accelerated meter taxi experience ($8 for about 10 min . . . ok for Canada, exorbitant for SE Asia) and we pretty much decided that our own two feet were our best bet.

We had fun though, wandering around. We managed to get our camera fixed, both flash and display (yippee!). Perry got a haircut in the street for 40,000 VND, the equivalent of less than $3. Other travelers were shocked, but it is actually one of the best I’ve ever seen on him . . . now that it has two weeks of growth. We had more than our share of Bia Hoi, the super cheap draft beer sold at kiddie size tables on the corner of (it seems like) most streets. And, we managed to sample enough “pho” restaurants to conclude that the one around the corner from our hotel was definitely the best. (Still #1 in Vietnam actually . . .) Hanoi also has loads of public green space which the locals really take advantage of. It was fun to see people in their daily exercise routines. And of course, wandering Hanoi is exciting, because you constantly feel like you might get run over by a motorbike, car or truck . . . but you never actually do (at least we didn’t). This feeling changes from “exciting” to “annoying and frustrating” after approximately 2.5 days.

One of the highlights of Hanoi was visiting Ho Chi MInh’s embalmed body. Yes, you read that correctly. He looks like a very peaceful wax figure laying in a glass box. It is all very serious and official and VERY cold. There were big crowds the day we made our way there, as Ho Chi Minh’s birthday is May 19, a big day here in Vietnam. We also wandered through the very bizarre adjacent museum full of interesting yet strange exhibits about Ho Chi MInh and Vietnam in general.

We kept our nights busy wandering through the markets. The walking street in Hanoi is big and much more crowded than even Chiang Mai’s was. I’m not quite sure why though, because it was mostly full of junk. Proof being that even I couldn’t find one thing to purchase. We also attended a “water puppetry” show one night. I admit, it was a very touristy show which I dragged Perry to. But hey, it’s definitely something I’ve never seen before . . . and likely never will again. It was cute and all, but I think without any kids to take, it’s like going to see “The Wiggles” all on your own, at 31+ years old.

By our third day in Hanoi, my legs were thoroughly warn out. I think I was also exhausted by the realization that I no longer had any idea what anybody was saying, and by the generally more aggressive nature of the Vietnamese (ah, the luxury of Thailand and Laos . . . ). I have to admit that I barely paid attention on our visit to the Vietnam Military History Museum. (Which I now feel guilty for, but will try to make it up in HCMC . . .) It was clear the time had come to move on from the big city. So, we booked a nice relaxing 3 day trip to Halong Bay and took off the next morning.

For photos of Hanoi and all of our adventures, see http://gallery.me.com/adamschen

Si Phan Don & Vientiane, May 8 to May 13 (Perry)

2009-05-25T07:20:00.000-07:00

SI PHAN DON

After a short but enjoyable stay in Pakse, we continued our travels southward to Si Phan Don (Four Thousand Islands). At the southern most point of Laos where the Mekong river can be as wide as 14 km in raining season, Si Phan Don is a seemingly never ending mixture of land and river making up an impressive collection of islands. For travelers though, there are 3 main islands; Don Khong, Don Khon, and Don Det. For us, the decision as to where to stay came down to either Don Khon or Don Dhet. We quickly decided on Don Khon. Actually, it was more like we ruled out Don Det. Lonely Planet does warn that Don Det may be the “Vang Vieng of the south” (read Vang Vieng blog for complete details). We are not ones to religiously follow Lonely Planet, but there were other arguments against Don Det. Posted on the back of the door of our guesthouse in Pakse was a brief warning regarding the island. Little things like don’t drink the water and bring a torchlight were friendly, common sense reminders from the guesthouse owners. More interesting were the numerous additional comments past travelers had added; most notably, “Check the support beams on your guesthouse because ours fell into the river while we were sleeping, with us and all of our belongings inside.” I suppose you get what you pay for at $1 or $2 per night . . .

After a quick two hour mini-van ride from Pakse to the town of Nakasang, we boarded a long tail boat to complete the journey to Don Khon. There we found a gem called the Sala Don Khone, which offered really nice floating huts along the river. Seemed like the perfect spot to relax.

Now, Jen and I had been in Southeast Asia for at least 3 months by that time, so we should be able to handle heat. However, the weather in Don Khon was unbearably hot. Our original plan was to stay for three nights on the island, but with the excruciating heat, and the fact that the island’s electricity is provided entirely by generators which run only from 6pm to 2am (i.e. nullifying the minimal impact of our ceiling fan), in the end we decided two nights was enough.

Other than the stunning sight of the Mekong river and the relaxed atmosphere of the islands, the main attraction of Si Phon Don is the Irrawaddy Dolphin, an endangered fresh-water dolphin that resides in the Mekong near Don Khon. In fact, our understanding is that there are only 12 left in existence in this area.

The day that we arrived, we hired some peddle bikes with good intentions of touring not only Don Khon but Don Det as well (the two are connected by a bridge). Prior to our arrival, the few km bike ride sounded like a piece of cake. However, prior to our arrival, I didn’t realize that simply laying around and breathing would be too tiring. (Did I mention that it was really, really hot?) We settled for a bike around Don Khon, and learned from the local fishermen that the best time to see the dolphins was either before 9:00am or after 3:00pm in the afternoon. Deciding that we would wake up at 5:30am the next day to avoid the mid-day heat, we had an early dinner and headed back to our guesthouse. Despite the heat we were both able to fall asleep early with relative ease.

Around 4am the next morning, our peaceful slumber came to an abrupt end. With what I believed to be the screams of a dying cat we were rudely awakened. So bad were the noises that Jen even rolled over and said, and I quote, “Can you please go and drown that cat? Please?” Despite the early rise, we excitedly headed off to the docks to catch a boat. Actually, I was excited because for some reason I really wanted to see the dolphin. Let’s just say that Jen was conscious. Upon arrival, we were greeted by a friendly local fisherman who said that he would take us out for the morning. After waiting for him to finish his early morning coffee we set off along the Mekong to hopefully catch a glimpse of the dolphins.

The early morning start ended up being a great decision. Other than some local fishermen, Jen and I had the amazing scenery all to ourselves. After about 30 minutes our guide stopped at some large rocks close to where the dolphins are known to be. Patiently we waited for the dolphins to make an appearance. At this point, I was really trying not to get my hopes up. I mean, with only 12 dolphins in the area, what were the chances that we would see them? Well, within 5 minutes of our arrival both Jen and the guide spotted a fin. Me, I was looking in the wrong direction. I was crushed. Surely that would be the only sighting of the day. I tried to keep up a positive outward appearance but inside I was dejected and was ready to pack it in. Then suddenly I saw it. About 30 meters away I saw the faint sight of a fin and just as quickly as it appeared it was gone. I was elated. After that, the dolphins began appearing more frequently and much closer. It was as if the dolphins could sense my excitement. Hey, it’s possible.

After about 30 minutes our guide offered (for an additional 30,000 kip) to take us further south to a nearby waterfall. Returning to land and hoping aboard a taxi bus, we headed off to Khone Phapheng Waterfall. Actually, Khone Phapheng is the largest waterfall, by volume, in SE Asia and it did not disappoint. The best part of the waterfall trip though was when our guide had to refill his fuel tank. After sending us back to the boat explaining that he had to buy some gas for the return trip, he quickly returned with a blue plastic bag full of gas and using a water bottle as a funnel, we were ready to go. It was funny to see Jen scold our local guide when he tossed the used bag into the river. He did retrieve it although he simply picked it up and threw it in another boat. I’m sure that bag is somewhere in Cambodia or Vietnam by now.

After what seemed like a full and long day, we returned to our guesthouse. Actually it was only 11:00 am but we were still pretty tired. The rest of the day we spent avoiding the sun and trying to beat the heat. Despite the beautiful surroundings, we came to the conclusion that we would leave the next day and head off to Vientiane.

VIENTIANE

The trip back to Vientiane would take us back to Pakse where we would hop aboard the beloved sleeper bus once more. Still overheated from our time in Si Phan Don, the air-con in the bus was a welcome treat. Arriving in Vientiane in the early hours of the morning, we headed straight to Joma, our favorite coffee shop from Luang Prabang which also has a location in the capital. For the next few hours we relaxed, drank a lot of coffee and enjoyed the free wifi. At around noon, we decided it was time to look for some accommodations.

Taking the initiative (for once) I set off alone and on foot. I pride myself in my sense of direction and usually it’s pretty good but this time I was way off. Despite having a map in hand and having carefully marked off the locations of a few potential guesthouses, I basically spent the next couple of hours walking around aimlessly in the heart of Vientiane. Completely frustrated and extremely sweaty, I was on my way back to Joma to admit my failure to Jen, when I found myself in front of the Family Hotel. Normally I wouldn’t even bother going into a place like this as it appeared to be out of our price range but I figured what have I got to lose. Well, looks like the ol’ intuition at least was intact. It was a brand new hotel, the rooms were really nice and reasonably priced, and the staff was very friendly. As I proudly marched my way back to Joma, the Vientiane skies opened up and it continued to rain for pretty much the rest of the day. That was fine with us though. Jen and I were feeling pretty lazy and happy to spend a day drinking coffee and getting caught up on emails, photos, and news. As a bonus, we met a super nice couple also seeking shelter from the rain named Richard and Emily. Originally from New Zealand but living and working in London for the past 5 years, they were really interesting people. We ended up chatting over lunch and coffee and had dinner and drinks with them later on that evening.

When we returned to the guesthouse to check in (by the way, Jen was impressed with my find) we discovered that we were the very first guests of the hotel. In fact after we returned from dinner with Richard and Emily that evening, the receptionist asked if they could take our photo the next day at 10 am for their website. I’m not sure if anyone has noticed from our photos or not, but for the last couple of weeks I’ve been sporting my new Puma hat almost 100% of the time (thanks in large part to a “haircut” I received in Vang Vieng). Feeling a bit excited for our “photo shoot” we decided that we would look a bit more presentable than usual. I did my hair and Jen put on a dress, ditching her lululemon gear for the day. As we ate breakfast we eyed the hotel clock and as the time approached 10 am, I tried to contain my excitement. But as it reached 10:30 and still no sign of a photographer, I tried to hide my disappointment. So we decided to head out and rent a scooter to check out some of the local sights. I was happy again.

While Vientiane may be the capital of Laos, we didn’t find that much to fill up our time. Sure, we had some good meals and the sights that we saw were pretty nice but coupled with the rain and our general laziness, we really didn’t do too much other than take it easy. Besides, both Jen and I were pretty excited for Vietnam which would be our next destination.

We both enjoyed our time in Laos. I think Jen best summed it up with the following quote, “It’s like the Saskatchewan of SE Asia”. Stuck in the middle between Thailand and Vietnam, there’s no sea, but the people are super nice. It’s a great place to visit and in the end, you like it but you’re not always completely sure why.

Oh, and when we checked out of the Family Hotel, the manager explained that because of the rain the photographer was not able to make it the previous day. I quickly offered that we could take the photos and email them to her. Not sure when the website will be up but bookmark www.familyhotellaos.com to check us out. Yippee!!!

For photos go to http://gallery.me.com/adamschen

Pakse & the Bolevan Plateau, May 6 to 7 (Jen)

2009-05-14T17:53:00.000-07:00

After Vang Vieng, we realized that it was time for us to plan a little bit farther than 2 days ahead. We had to choose whether to continue from the south of Laos into Cambodia, or somehow get to Vietnam. We now have a plan to fly out of Laos to Hanoi (as opposed to taking a take a 20+ hour bus ride there), and work our way south through Vietnam and Cambodia, then finally back into Thailand. This decision was of course motivated by my desire to see my host family and friends in Bangkok at least one more time before leaving Asia. With this in mind, we completely skipped over Vientiane and headed straight to Pakse in the south of Laos, keeping in mind that we would eventually be returning to the capital city to get a flight to Hanoi.

The first great thing about Pakse was the transportation there. We first rode an uneventful bus from Vang Vieng to Vientiane. From there we were able to book an overnight “sleeping bus” to Pakse leaving at 8:30pm. This gave us enough time to enjoy a tasty dinner, complete with Greek salad, flat bread pizza, and white wine by “Nam Phu” the pretty fountain in the center of Laos’ capital city (sample of things to come in Vientiane . . . ). Based on our bus experiences to date in this country, I was a little apprehensive about the “sleeping” bus, but it turned out to be fantastic. They gave us snacks, water, and candies, when we boarded and I woke up to nice moist towels to freshen up in the morning. I slept the entire way there. Perry slept too, but managed to fit in a lot more ipod time than me as usual.

On arrival, after a sweet and thick Lao coffee, we set about finding a place to stay (Sabaidee 2 guesthouse . . . not bad) and renting a motorbike (sorry Grandma!). We drove to a village about 15km or so out of town called Ban Saphai where we could take a small and very tippy boat to an island village called Don Kho. It was a lovely place! Everyone was so friendly and smiley there. We were defenseless against the sweet ladies there and bought some of their hand woven silk. (It is beautiful, but I’m not sure what I’m going to do with it.) We wandered around, and had some mango with our guide and a couple of village ladies. It was a relaxing afternoon.

Next day we headed out to the Bolevan Plateau, a fertile plateau 1500m above the Mekong valley. After the motorbike ride the day before, I decided I’d had enough and convinced Perry to take the one day trip on offer at our guesthouse to see the waterfalls, rivers, and tea and coffee plantations for which the plateau is famous. We enjoyed the trip because the waterfalls were truly gorgeous. The tea and coffee plantation visits were also interesting, and gave us the extra mid-day caffeine kick we are getting a little too used to.

One thing we did NOT enjoy about the Bolevan Plateau tour were the village visits, which seem to be incorporated into just about every activity here in Laos. We have had some great experiences visiting rural villages throughout the country thus far with Green Discovery. Well, this was our opportunity to observe how it really should NOT be done. I felt completely intrusive. Our guide did not speak to anyone in the villages we visited, let alone give proper instructions to his van full of tourists regarding how to behave with sufficient cultural respect. He also arrived at one of the villages by driving up to, I swear almost into, the school house with Thai pop music blaring. It was more than a little disruptive to the lessons. As a result of what I’m sure has been a multitude of similar visits, some of the children were aggressive beggars and a few of the people in our group unwittingly gave them entirely inappropriate “gifts”. I found the whole experience unsettling, and felt guilty for not asking enough questions before booking and supporting this activity. I guess we just got so used the professionalism and cultural sensitivity at Green Discovery, we assumed other groups would operate similarly. Not so . . . lesson learned.

One strange fact about Laos is that nearly every town seems to have an Indian restaurant called Nazim’s. I’ve no idea why Indian food, or why they must all have the same name. That evening we had Indian food at Nazim’s with a really nice German fellow we had met on the way to Luang Prabang, and luckily ran into again in Pakse. Fabian is planning to travel through Canada beginning this summer. (Ladies, you may just want to check him out in my facebook friends and offer up your couch. Just saying . . . ) Anyhow, after dinner we decided to check out Pakse nightlife, which is pretty much nonexistent save a brand spanking new bowling alley. So, the three of us went bowling! It was pretty fun; definitely a change. Perry was a big hit because he seemed to manage a strike 95% of the time. (Show off!)

All in all, we really enjoyed our time in Pakse. The town itself felt a bit less touristy than some of the other places we’ve been in Laos. Possibly because many people skip Pakse to head directly to Si Phan Don (Four Thousand Islands), which is our next destination as well. I’ll let Perry fill you in . . . .

For more photos http://gallery.me.com/adamschen

Vang Vieng, May 2 to May 4 (Perry)

2009-05-11T23:56:00.000-07:00

Leaving Luang Prabang was difficult and being that Vang Vieng was our next destination made it even more so. From what we had heard and/or read about the place, both Jen and I were torn as to whether or not we should even bother. On one hand, we heard that you could spend the day tubing down the Mekong, while making the occasional pit stop at a multitude of riverside bars. Sounds alright . . . On the other hand, we heard the place was overrun with TV bars showing either Friends, Family Guy, or The Simpsons. Wait a second, how is this a bad thing?

After a 7 hour trip aboard a "VIP" bus, we arrived in Vang Vieng. For the life of me, I have no idea what those 3 letters stand for in Laos because this bus ride was anything but “VIP”. The trip was only supposed to take 4 hours but I guess it’s hard to keep a schedule when your bus is incapable of making it uphill on the first attempt. The routine was that it would chug uphill as far as it could go (which wasn’t much) until the engine shut off. Then the driver would roll down the hill in neutral, until he could finally get the thing into gear and reattempt the ascent. Ultimately the bus broke just broke down furthering our delay.

When we finally reached our destination, what we saw confirmed our initial, indecisive thoughts. The town itself could best be described as Koh Phang Ngan’s ugly sister. Don’t get me wrong, I love Friends and Family Guy as much as the next person, but this seemed a bit much. It’s as if someone in the town got wind that backpackers like to watch TV and drink beer at the same time and the idea exploded. You couldn’t walk more than a minute without hearing Ross’ annoying voice. The charm of Luang Prabang was nowhere to be found. Yet at the same time, the surrounding landscape was some of the most spectacular we had seen in Laos, with the Nam Song River and a beautiful mountain range only a stone’s throw away.

The next day, we rented mountain bikes to check out the area. Our first stop was an organic mulberry farm and restaurant situated along the Nam Song about 5 km north of town. What’s a mulberry you ask? I have no idea but it makes for a great fruit shake. Toss in the homemade goat cheese and the restaurant was a definite treat. Not to mention that the farm supported numerous development activities in the area, such as financing a school bus for local children. While enjoying our tasty meal, we realized that we were mere feet from the tubing launch spot. How did we know this? Well the endless pumping of Akon’s “I Wanna Make Love” and Rihanna was a definite giveaway. It really was quite a sight. Imagine elevated decks lining the river complete with swings, zip lines, and giant water slides. Crazy! I hate to say it but as fun as this may sound, it really put us off the whole tubing idea. Dang, I think we are getting old!!! (Perhaps if the water appeared more than two feet deep, we may have been swayed . . . the end of dry season seemed to be a dangerous time to engage in these kinds of activities.)

We continued our bike ride and decided to check out some of the local caves. Only 20 minutes west from town (across the river) we reached a relatively small rock formation (I think karst is the proper term. This word is all over our Lonely Planet, but I had to look it up . . .) which housed not only a cave mid way, but a great viewpoint at the top. After paying our mandatory 10,000 kip each to the “ticket booth” at the bottom, we started the steep climb up jagged limestone and sketchy looking bamboo bridges and ladders. The cave was interesting enough but what made the approximately 500 meter climb worthwhile was the viewpoint, which offered us a spectacular panorama of Vang Vieng’s surrounding areas. After taking in the amazing scenery we started our descent, which not surprisingly was a bit tough. I don’t think flip-flops would be considered proper footwear for the terrain.

The next day, instead of tubing (did I mention we were a little put off by it?) we decided to join a kayak tour along the Nam Song river. The tour was a combination of kayaking and trekking to a couple of nearby caves. As usual we started off the day with a good hearty breakfast at our guesthouse’s restaurant. What made the breakfast a bit more enjoyable was the airing of Family Guy in the background. (While I still didn’t like the fact that you couldn’t find any Lao culture whatsoever in Vang Vieng, I decided a little Family Guy in the morning wouldn’t harm anyone.)

Starting about 10 km north of town, the kayaking was a great alternative way to enjoy the river. Our first stop of the day brought us to the Nam Tha cave which provided us a bit of a challenge because, as advised by the tour operator, both Jen and I once again had only our trusted flip-flops which didn’t always provide the best of grip on wet rock. As we continued our kayak ride down the river, both Jen and I started to get a feeling of deja vu. It wasn’t that we recognized our surroundings but that we started to hear the faint, yet unmistakable sound of Akon. As we got a little closer, Rihanna’s Disturbia pierced it’s way into our ears. Yup, we were close to the tubing bars. Now I know that I’ve only mentioned two musical artists here, but really, it was as if the multitude of bars all had the same playlist and they simply pressed play at different times. Anyways, our initial view of the river bars turned out to be merely a glimpse. Not to repeat myself, but it was really quite a sight. It was as if every family that lived along the river had bought some Beer Lao and a cooler, strung up a rope for swinging, and opened up a makeshift bar where falang could get wasted in their bikinis. I wouldn’t trust the construction of most of the swings, and definitely not the slides. (We actually heard that a South Korean girl had died on one of the slides only weeks prior to our visit.) A bit eerie and even more sad though was that many of the bars were completely empty. I suppose the result of low season combined with economic downturn . . . or maybe more people like us deciding it was all just too much.

We reached our second cave shortly after we passed the row of bars and this one was definitely more intimidating. It wasn’t just that the the total length of the cave was around 13 km but mostly because no one had ever gone all the way through. (How then, do they know it is 13 km you ask? I’ve no idea and didn’t get an answer from our guide . . . ) As well, we learned midway through the tour, this was only our guide’s third time visiting this particular cave. As it turned out, the cave was not that bad (although I did slip down a muddy hill) and we turned around after about going about 3 km in.

After our time in Vang Vieng, I still have to say that we both have mixed feelings about the place. We both loved the scenery and the surrounding areas, and we had a good time kayaking and exploring the caves. In terms of the town, it just seems a pity. Yeah, the TV and movie bars are definitely a guilty pleasure that we both took advantage of once or twice, but it’s difficult to see what could be a beautiful little town stripped of all its culture simply to entertain a bunch of tourists. (Ok, I’m possibly being a bit harsh and hypocritical . . . )

Photos at http://gallery.me.com/adamschen

Luang Prabang, April 27 to May 2 (Jen)

2009-05-10T20:05:00.000-07:00

Seems I’m falling into my old habits . . . namely, procrastination. Yes, it has been quite awhile since we have updated our blog. I could blame it on the extremely slow internet connections here in Laos, or on how we’ve been hectically exploring the country, but all of that would be a lie. (Although the connections truly are slow!) It is now May 11th and I am finally writing about our wonderful time in Luang Prabang.

The first adventure was getting there. First we spent one day on a bus from Luang Nam Tha to Huay Xai, back where we had originally crossed the border from Thailand. The ride was hot and dusty as usual, but largely uneventful. Our bus did get a flat tire, but luckily they had a spare and were surprisingly speedy at getting up and running again. After a night in Huay Xai, we took a two day slow boat ride down the Mekong, with a stop overnight in a town called Pak Beng. You’ll notice there are no photos of Pak Beng . . . there is truly nothing there. The boat ride itself was lovely, if long. The air was cool and not dusty which was refreshing. However, the benches were tiny and they packed at least 120 people onto the boat. It was shocking as tourists with huge backpacks just kept coming and coming, long after all of the seats were filled. The floor turned out to be more comfy half the time anyhow though. Many of the falang on board spent the days boozing and playing cards. The first day we avoided drinking anything in an attempt not to use the facilities on board, but the second day we caved and joined the party. The whole experience was fun, and definitely preferable to bus travel.

Luang Prabang is the second largest city in Laos, and a very quaint place. After our time up north “roughing it” we were happy to embrace city life. The first night we checked into the Lonely Planet recommended accommodations, which consisted of a bed and a shower. There was absolutely nowhere to stand or move around in our room. After calculating that that we were only paying about $5 per night, we decided to upgrade to something a little more spacious. After some looking around and some very impressive bargaining on my part (if I do say so myself . . .) we ended up with a room at Villa Lao Deum. It was such a cute place, run by a really, really nice family. Ah, now it was time to enjoy the charm of Luang Prabang.

Luang Prabang has some fantastic western style (i.e. French) restaurants. I had the best salmon pasta I think I’ve ever had in a little French Bistro called “Dao Fa”. We thoroughly enjoyed sampling the many tasty bakeries, coffee shops, etc. We also had really delicious traditional Lao Food one night at a restaurant called "Tamarind". We checked out a couple of the most famous temples, rented bicycles to explore the city, and generally just kicked back for a few days. It was great! We are definitely past the point now where we feel the need to see every sight in the book . . . “wat fatigue” has set in. That said, the walk up to Wat Phou Si was well worth the view of the city.

We also spent some time attempting to educate ourselves about the local people and their traditions. This was not too difficult, as there seems to be many organizations designed to help travelers do just that. We found the Traditional Arts and Ethnology Centre very interesting. They had great exhibits describing the various different ethnic groups in Laos and some of their customs and traditions. Another organization we discovered was called Stay Another Day (www.stayanotherday.org), which attempts to help travelers to be more culturally sensitive and informed. I.e. to leave a positive effect rather than a negative one on the countries we visit.

Of course, I loved the Luang Prabang night market. The food was not so inviting as Thailand, except for a $3 grilled fish stuffed with lemongrass we had one night (yum!), but the products for sale were gorgeous. The market had a feel similar to Chiang Mai, only on a smaller scale, with less imported, mass produced products and more handmade items. When asked, the sellers all insisted that they had actually made each item themselves and I tended to believe them. There were so many beautiful handicrafts on sale, and so many endearing sellers, that I found it very hard not to fill a second backpack. So, I filled a box destined for home instead. Here’s hoping the Laos postal service won’t let us down!

Once we felt nice and relaxed again, we decided to do a day of mountain biking in the area around Luang Prabang. It was great to be on a proper bike again, i.e. one with gears and suspension. Due to our initially slow pace, we at first assumed we were in for an easy day. However, on the 10th steep uphill, I was only hoping I would make it back to town before drowning in my own sweat. It was tough, but the views were great and it felt good to get some real exercise. Our guide “Geer” was lots of fun. I’ve no idea how he made it through the day in his jeans and on a bike that was obviously way too large for him.

On our last day in Luang Prabang, we made the effort to drag ourselves out of bed early enough to observe the morning alms giving to the monks. There are many temples in Luang Prabang and consequently many monks, as well as a large number of young novices studying in the temples around the city centre. It truly was a colorful sight to see, all of them in their bright orange robes taking to the streets. We didn’t partake in any offering, as we are not Buddhist. We merely watched from a distance. Of course the day we chose it poured rain, but that seemed to add to the experience. It was interesting to see all of the young monks hiding under their umbrellas. They looked truly freezing! Watching them, I realized that many of them were really just kids, laughing and joking with their friends.

After the charm of Luang Prabang, we headed for the absurd craziness that is Vang Vieng. I’ll let Perry tell you all about that.

We have put up three albums from Luang Prabang (journey, 1, and 2) at
http://gallery.me.com/adamschen

Love to everybody at home. We miss you!
Jen

Luang Nam Tha, Laos (Jen)

2009-04-30T20:36:00.000-07:00

We decided that after so much leisure in Chiang Mai, it was time to jump into something a bit more active. We hopped the bus to Chiang Khong on Apr 18, crossed the border (the Mekong) to Laos the next morning and boarded a bus directly to Luang Nam Tha. Our bus options were our first lesson that although many Lao people understand Thai (which remains to come in handy as a result), we are definitely not in Thailand any more. The was no VIP, air-con transport options. Just a big, very old bus. We had to climb over bags and bags of rice to get to our seats, and there were a couple of motorbikes strapped to the top. First impressions aside, once the bus got moving we realized that it was perfectly comfortable, if a little dusty. Mostly I felt sorry for the poor girl a couple of rows up who vomited into a plastic bag for half the ride there. (The road was a little winding . . . ) But enough of that kind of talk. (I’m sure you get enough from Perry.)

The night we arrived in town, we immediately booked a two day trek with Green Discovery, a local eco-tourism operator (www.greendiscoverylaos.com). This is one time Lonely Planet certainly didn’t let us down. We had a great guide, great food, and an overall wonderful experience. There were only 5 in our group, plus 2 guides. The hiking wasn’t easy through the Nam Tha protected and nearby areas. We had to cross many rivers hopping rocks or using log bridges (my personal weakness), and of course there was more than enough uphill for the 35+ degree heat.

The destination was well worth it though. We spent the night in the village of an Akha tribe. The village was quite remote and its’ inhabitants appeared to be living in a very traditional manner. The were so friendly and took great care of us the entire time we were there. Once we had a refreshing “shower” in the stream in our sarongs (I still don’t understand how you really get clean that way . . . ), a few of the villagers and our guide, Pon, cooked us up a super tasty dinner which we ate by candlelight inside our bamboo hut. The villagers also shared a bottle of their “lao lao” with us, a very strong rice whiskey that they brew themselves. (You can actually find home brew lao lao all over Laos. I’ve yet to acquire a taste for it, but Perry thinks it tastes like sake.) After dinner, a few of the village girls, I would guess they were about 12 yrs old or so, came down to give us all a massage. Pon told us that it is Akha custom for young village girls to massage guests and that the villagers “would not be happy” if they weren’t able to do this for us. The actual massages were quite humorous, as the girls spent most of their time nattering at each other, I’m sure about us, and they weren’t exactly what you would call skilled. They were lovely though so we all just took it in and tried not to giggle too much.

The next morning we visited the village’s school, which from what I understand is a fairly new addition. It was easy to tell that these kids were not used to too much structure. They went crazy when we got there, mostly because they LOVE to have their pictures taken, and of course take a look at the result on the digital display. I honestly thought I had started some kind of brawl. They eventually calmed down, slightly. (We made sure to get prints made in Nam Tha for Pon to deliver to them on his next trip.)

The trek and the experience in the village, especially with all of the super friendly children, was really special. Looking around the village, you have to feel in awe of how these people live. Their life is simple and certainly not easy. They have no running water, very limited access to electricity (some huts had solar panels, thanks to an NGO project), extremely well worn clothing, etc. However, they seemed to be nothing but content and were very gracious hosts. One more bonus of the trek was that we met some great people from New Zealand (Josh and Lucy) and Australia (Katy).

After a day of rest, where we rented a scooter and checked out the town market and nearby waterfall (seems to be a formula for destinations in SE Asia?), we decided on one more day of adventure before heading on to Luang Prabang. After our fabulous experience trekking, we of course headed back to Green Discovery. Since it is dry season, the water in the Nam Tha River is quite low, and therefore perfect for us beginner kayakers. This time, it was only Perry, our guide Sai, and I on the trip, which suited us perfectly. We got to chat with Sai and get to know him a little bit.

Perry and I have decided that instead of marriage prep class, all couples should have this two man kayak experience. It definitely took some coordination and cooperation in to get us going in the right direction. We visited a Lantan village and a Khmu village along the river (two distinct tribal groups in the area), and had another tasty Lao picnic lunch. It is very interesting how diverse the Nam Tha area, and actually Laos in general, is in terms of ethic tribes. It was also interesting to contrast the more accessible villages visited by the river with the less accessible Akha village visited on our trek. The accessible villages show more signs of development, but still operate fairly traditionally. For example, more western clothing seemed to be mixed in with traditional dress, and we spotted a couple of scooters. As well, the children at the Khmu village did not budge from their seats when we stopped by to drop off our “thank you” gifts of notebooks and pens. They were obviously a bit more used to tourists, and to school discipline.

Sai took some great photos of us kayaking, as we mostly did not trust ourselves to have the camera out (we could likely tip at any moment . . .). When we found out that Sai, who is saving to go to college in Vientiane, didn’t own a camera, we took some shots of him as well, and again dropped off prints the next day. We were regulars at the photo shop with all of our prints for the village people (who apparently love to receive the photos that tourists are constantly taking of them, but rarely actually do) and our guides.

After 4 days in the beautiful area surrounding Luang Nam Tha, we were ready to head south to Luang Prabang, via a one day bus ride, followed by two days slow boat down the Mekong. We’ll update you on that fun journey in a few days . . .

As always, check out our photos at http://gallery.me.com/adamschen.

Love to everybody. We miss you!!

Chiang Mai & Pai (Perry)

2009-04-23T21:03:00.000-07:00

From Ayutthaya, we thought it would be fun to take the overnight train to Chiang Mai and start our travels in the north of Thailand. We figured the 14 hour trip would be best served if we sprung the extra cash and both got sleeper seats, which include a single bed, blanket, and pillow. This way we would get a good night sleep and at the same time, have a new experience. For me, I could have done without the experience.

In all fairness, under normal circumstances the train would have been great. It just so happened that the night before we were to leave, we decided to check out a street market and sample some of the local fare. I, being the meat eater I am, decided on a tasty pork and rice dish. At first (and I stress at first) the meal was very good. The next day was a different story. There’s nothing quite like being sick to your stomach in a strange country and in 38 degree heat. By the time we were to board the train, I had started to feel a lot better so we made the game time decision to proceed as planned. Sitting in the train and feeling pretty good, we decided to celebrate the moment with a big bottle of Singha beer. In my mind, that’s the defining moment of my overnight train experience. For the next 14 hours, I proceeded to visit the washroom on an hourly basis. Making matters worse (if that’s possible) were the other travelers chilling out in the aisle, who would stop me to make idle chit chat. I passed one group so many times that I was able to learn their life story. Oh, and the condition of the washroom.....don’t even get me started.

Anyways, I survived and we eventually made it to Chiang Mai, which is Thailand’s second biggest city but is nowhere close to being as big or as busy as Bangkok. The old city of Chiang Mai is basically a square surrounded by a moat and remnants of an old brick wall. Getting around the city center is quite easy, your either drive clockwise (outside the moat) or counter clockwise (inside the moat). That being said, both Jen and I agreed that renting a scooter would be the best way to get around (yippee!). An added bonus was that Jen’s friend Oh would be joining us. Although there are numerous reasons to visit Chiang Mai, we timed our visit so that it would coincide with the Thai new year festival, Songkran. Officially, Songkran festivities run from April 13 to 15 at which point the streets of Thailand, and especially Chiang Mai, resemble a gigantic water fight. In reality, the water splashing started around the 11th or so . . . With the moat surrounding the center of the city, Chiang Mai was the place to be for Songkran. Since we arrived early (April 1), we had plenty of time to relax and check out the city before it became utter chaos.

On the first day and even though Jen and I were pretty much “wat”ed out, we took the scooter up a very scenic, very winding, and very fun road to Doi Suthep, one of north Thailand’s most sacred temples. What really distinguished this temple from many of the others we had seen was the number of bells it had. Supposedly if you ring all the bells around Doi Suthep you will have good luck and since you always need a bit of luck, we did as such. Most of the other days were spent exploring the city and checking out the trendy areas of town. In particular, we really seemed to spend a lot of time at a Chiang Mai coffee chain called “Wawee Coffee” on the trendy street of Nimanhaemin. Think Starbucks but a bit more comfortable, nicer setting, and more neighborhood feel.

Our nights in Chiang Mai were mostly spent checking out the local markets. Although most of the cities in Thailand have either a day or night market or both, Chiang Mai is by far market central. The most well known “tourist” market is the Night Bazaar which is about 4 to 6 blocks of shops and restaurants. In this case, its quantity over quality as most of the items are the standard knock-off designer clothing that you can pretty much find anywhere in Thailand. (I guess a tell-tale sign that this market is geared towards tourists is that on a central corner of the market you can find McDonalds, Burger King, Starbucks and Subway.) On particular nights though, the city shuts down other sections of streets and holds “walking streets”. We went to the Sunday night walking street. This market was huge and the items for sale of much better quality, and better priced. Here you can find quality jewelry, arts and crafts, and authentic Thai street food. Delicious!

Although we like to think that Oh only came to Chiang Mai to visit us, she also came to visit her friend Mo. Mo, who is an engineering professor for the Thai military, was home visiting family and was nice enough to show us around even more. Instead of visiting the standard tourist infested pubs and bars, we visited a very cool strip of bars where the locals came to eat, drink, and play. Finally, Jen knows how I feel when I go to 17th Ave. in Calgary.

Although I know both sets of parents will not be happy with the following paragraph, I just have to say that one of my proudest moments in Thailand had to be when we rode three to a scooter. Oh had never driven a scooter before and Jen wasn’t sure if she should drive in the city, so the only logical thing to do was to throw tiny Oh on the back. I mean, it’s probably the most authentic “Thai” thing I’ve done the whole trip. So if that’s one of my proudest moments, the proudest would have to be when the three of us got pulled over and were ticketed by the police, for all things, because I wasn’t wearing a helmet. (Sorry folks, won’t happen again.) The funniest part about it, was that three on a bike posed not problem at all, as far as the traffic cops were concerned.

With about 5 days to go before Songkran, we decided to head further north and visit a town called Pai. Jen and I had heard many good things regarding Pai from fellow travelers so it was always on our list of places to go. The town was small and it had an “artsy”, kind of hippie feel to it. On one strip you could find numerous coffee shops/pubs whereas on another strip, you could find some really good live music. At a place called Buffalo Exchange, the singer had such an amazing voice that I swear we heard the next Thailand Idol. Another good thing that we had heard about Pai was that it was a good place to rent scooters to tour in and around the town. When I say “we”, this time I actually mean it because both Jen and Oh figured this would be good place to get more comfortable on the bike. For Oh, this would actually be her first time.

The first day we rode just outside of town to the Chinese Village, a little town where Chinese (Yunnan) people had settled during the war. I, of course, felt quite at home. The town had a great view of Pai and had many shops selling chinese teas, spices and treats. Keeping in form with Chinese tradition (??), the town also had a tiny, man-powered ferris wheel. Check out the photo gallery to see what it looked like but it was a very random sight.

On the morning of our second day in Pai, we met up with Oh at a street vendor selling “Joke” (rice porridge) and her new friend Pucchai. Pucchai, a local artist, started chatting up Oh and it turned out that he’s a minor celebrity in Thailand. From what I could understand, the man had lived a very interesting life. From being a war photographer, to studying philosophy in Chicago, to being a well-known street performer and artist, Pucchai had many interesting stories to tell us. But while interesting, we had to take some of his stories with a grain of salt as his daily breakfast consisted of a bottle of rice whiskey.

Jen and I had decided that instead of buying random souvenirs that we would try to buy some original art from each country that we visited. The old place in Kensington does need something or other to cover up the walls. Anyways, Oh mentioned this to Pucchai so he was kind enough to show us his gallery. Two good things about our visit to Pucchai’s place. First, we ended up “buying” two pieces of his art although we still don’t think 500 baht and bottle of vodka is fair. Secondly, we discovered a great coffee shop nearby called Coffee in Love. The place was nicely designed, very comfortable, and had some good coffee, but the view was the real attraction. Overlooking a valley and surrounded by mountains, we spent a few hours there over the next couple days just chilling and taking it all in.

In the smaller towns in Thailand, Songkran festivities tend to start a bit earlier and Pai was no different. Not wanting to feel left out from the other 12 year olds, I bought a water gun and joined in. While the girls weren’t nearly as enthusiastic about the idea, they got caught up in the action, most of the time unwillingly. There’s nothing like a white girl with blond hair that catches the eye of a bucket of water wielding Thai kid. Suffice it to say, we all got soaked.

After our brief visit in Pai, we returned to Chiang Mai the day before Songkran. Now Jen had tried to explain to me what the scene would be like but nothing could prepare me for the actual thing. Surrounding the moat, the sidewalks were packed with people either armed with a water gun or a bucket on a rope. The streets themselves were packed with pickup trucks or tuk-tuks, both carrying loads of people and garbage can size buckets of water, and usually, ice. You literally couldn’t walk a foot without being sprayed or doused with water. The three of us took to the streets with our water guns but we soon discovered that buckets were the way to go. Stopping at a nearby reggae bar, we joined in with the employees and their kids and proceeded to throw bucket after bucket of water on passersby.

We continued the festivities the next day and headed out into the chaos once again. This time we made it straight across town to the Central Plaza, where they had shut down the street to host two competing street concerts. The crowds were massive and the water and booze were flowing. The good thing about Songkran is that the water throwing usually stops after the sunset. For Thais, this is just common courtesy. I still feel sorry for the American tourist who dared shoot Jen one night as we headed out to the walking street. He probably hadn’t been yelled at like that since grade school.

By the third day of Songkran, both Jen and I were wanting to stay dry. Knowing that we couldn’t head towards the city center, we decided to take the scooter out and head in the opposite direction towards a couple of towns called Bo Sang and Sankampang, both known for arts and crafts. Big mistake. We were warned by Oh that because these towns get less traffic, their buckets of water would be bigger and even more likely to be filled with ice water. As I write this, I have no idea why we chose to ignore her words. The ride started out harmlessly enough and while we did get splashed a bit, we were feeling pretty good about our decision. But as the first town, Bo Sang, approached we began to realize that maybe we weren’t so smart. I mean the buckets were huge and the sound of the water hitting my chest was equivalent to that of a 10 meter bellyflop into a pool. The trip was made worthwhile though as we stumbled upon a Chinese donut vendor in Sankampang and the hot soy milk dip was just the thing to warm us up from the ice water.

Eventually the chaos of Songkran ended and after a day of hanging out and eating with Oh and Mo we made our way to the bus station to head to Chiang Khong, which would be just an overnight stop as the town was a 5 minute boat ride away from Laos. Goodbye Thailand. It’s been a great two and half months and a fabulous introduction to South East Asia.

Kanchanaburi and Ayutthaya (Jen)

2009-04-03T02:33:00.000-07:00

Although Kanchanaburi was one of my favorite places to visit back in the day with my host family, I have to admit it is at the bottom of my list of stops so far this trip. We had arranged what we expected to be a very nice hotel on the river with a pool and a gym (Perry was very excited . . .), thinking we again deserved a little “backpacker break”. When we arrived, the accommodation turned out to be less than expected. Much less. Very loud and terrible music in the restaurant, a pool that was truly only about 2 feet deep and very tiny, and a gym straight out of the 70’s with small and broken machines. The lack of power in our room and the ants all over the toilet seat the night we checked in didn’t help either. The only good things about this hotel were the quite beautiful setting along the River Kwae Noi, the free and fast wifi, and the fairly cheap and super tasty dinner and breakfast buffets. So much for our plans to get some exercise and get healthy after gorging ourselves with my host family in Bangkok!

Accommodation aside though, for the average backpacker, Kanchanaburi mostly entails visiting WWII museums. While interesting and informative, this was not entirely our cup of tea at the moment. Perry, always up for a little scooter action, scoffed at advice on travelfish that Kanchanaburi’s sights were quite far spread and a tour, while normally not the best choice, would be advisable in this case. Long story short, I think I spent about 6 to 7 hours on the back of a bike the day we went to Hellfire Pass. I finally got my first sunburn and couldn’t feel my ass again until the next morning . . .

So, with the downs outweighing the ups in Kanchanaburi, we decided to get out and finally start our journey north. Not too far north though. First stop Ayutthaya, the former Thai capital, which is just a short hour or so train ride from Bangkok. My traveler bliss was immediately restored. The people in Ayutthaya are so, so friendly. The town is cute with great markets, and our guesthouse was super comfy and clean. And since Ayutthaya is not too busy or big, we were able to pedal around town for the 3 days we spent there. (Granted, the bikes were a little old and squeaky, but what can you expect for 40 baht per day?) The ruins of the many ancient temples we visited were amazing. Amazing enough to keep us going, even in the 38-ish degree heat. Not an easy feat! It is incredible to imagine these structures in use nearly 700 years ago.

We thoroughly enjoyed Ayutthaya, staying a few days longer than planned. A perfect stepping stone on our journey north. For photos, as usual, visit http://gallery.me.com/adamschen.

Love to everybody at home, Jen & Perry

Bangkok revisited (Perry)

2009-03-26T05:19:00.000-07:00

After our live-aboard trip to the Similan Islands, Jen and I have decided it's time to head to northern Thailand and with that, we decided to stop over in Bangkok once again. This time, we avoided the Khao San Road area and stayed with Thip, one of Jen's host sisters. The area where she lives is called Meng Jai and, as we discovered, was a very close taxi ride (80 THB) to the some great shopping (i.e. MBK, Central World, Siam Square, Siam Center, etc.). Of course we only discovered this after spending the better part of our first day walking and taking the subway/skytrain, which was also fun. (Well, maybe not the walking in the blazing heat part so much . . . )

So what did we do in Bangkok our second time around? We ate, and ate very well! Jen's host sister Thip is a chef and restaurant owner so when it comes to eating out, she knows what to order. The food we ate was very tasty and very different from the standard tourist Thai food we've been eating. Also, Thip and her restaurant are being featured in Bazaar Thailand (magazine) so one of the days we accompanied her to the photoshoot at Cakewalk (her restaurant). It was very exciting but mostly Jen and I just sat around and, you guessed it, ate. An added bonus was that Jen ran into one of her old classmates from Santa Cruz Convent. "Fah" kept us company all day as well.

On the second night, we visitied with one of Jen's friends "Oh" and went to a posh restaurant called Zense, located on the 16th floor of the Central World Plaza building. Good food and good company was accompanied by our first bottle of red wine in over two months. Suffice it to say, we had a good time. The next couple of days were filled with Jen and I getting our Laos and Cambodia visas, extending our Thailand visa, and visiting with the rest of Jen's host family.

I was able to get my nerd on by going and seeing the Watchmen which coincidently was playing here when we arrived. Usually, for movies that I hype up I don't come to the realization that it wasn't good for months, but this movie was the exception. While I still the love the story, the movie was disappointing.

Anyways, we thoroughly filled up our four days in Bangkok and for me, I'm so glad that we got a chance to revisit because I feel that I saw a more real side of Bangkok.

We want to thank Jen's host family for such a wonderful time staying with them. Thank you to Thip and Art for helping us to find our way around, giving us the most comfortable bed we have slept in since with left home, and of course keeping our bellies full of amazing Thai food. And especially thank you for taking us to Bangkhuntien to visit Mama, Papa, Jin, Lek, Nee, and Jan. We love you!! And also thank you to "Oh" for taking time out to spend with us. We love you too!

Hi to everyone at home . . . we miss you and love you too!

For photos go to http://gallery.me.com/adamschen

Similan & Surin Islands (Jen)

2009-03-26T02:50:00.001-07:00

Now that it has all gone smoothly, I am finally allowed to tell you that Perry joined me in scuba diving. That's right, our "beginner swimmer" is now PADI open water certified! (Thanks in no small part to our super relaxed and patient dive instructor Dan.) It was a perfect situation really, as I needed a bit of a refresher as well. It turned out to be just Perry and I diving with Dan, so we had a lot of personal attention. And, when Perry decided that four dives a day for four days might be a little much for his first time diving, I essentially had my own personal guide. It was fabulous! We saw so much amazing marine life. I also completed my advanced diver course on the boat, which allows me to dive deeper, at night, etc.

We had an absolutely fantastic time on the liveaboard (Manta Queen II). I believe we have now been officially spoiled however. I.e. Why would I carry my own equipment, when on our liveaboard it was just nicely set up for me with a full tank 4 times a day? Why would I dive in poor visibility, when I am used to the gorgeous clear waters near Similan and Surin, which were also teeming with marine life? Needless to say, it was incredible. The boat itself was great too. All we did was sleep, eat and dive, literally. (We ate about 5 amazing meals per day!) Everyone on the boat was super friendly as well - it was just a great atmosphere.

Highlights included:
-> seeing Manta Ray (so massive and graceful), leopard shark, octopus, and other crazy stuff
-> braving the current at the "Dome of Doom", hanging on the ascent line for my life and flapping like a flag in the wind (don't worry, our beginner swimmer sat that one out)
-> learning about all of the fish and other marine life we saw each dive (which, sadly, I already cannot recall all of the names - as you can probably tell from the photos)
-> night diving and seeing the phosphoresent plankton (at least I think that is what it was) glowing when you move your hand back and forth
-> assuring Perry it was ok that he used up 200 bar of air in a 30 minute dive . . . ;-)
-> And of course, just enjoying the completely relaxing boat life

For photos of diving, taken by us (on the surface), and our instructor Dan (below the surface) check out http://gallery.me.com/adamschen

Khao Lak (Jen)

2009-03-15T03:13:00.000-07:00

Ah, I am sooo relaxed. I think it has finally hit me that I do not need to see everything, do everything, or think about going back to work for another 10 months or so. (sorry for rubbing that in . . .) I’ve finally realized that it is ok to spend an entire day just reading and lazing about. That is what Khao Lak has done for both Perry and I.

We arrived with a plan to stay one or two days. Just long enough to organize a liveaboard to Similan Islands so that I could do a bit of diving prior to heading back to Bangkok and then up north. We had both firmly declared that we were beached out and it was time to move on. But, I felt I would regret it if I didn’t do any diving here. (I’ve been told that Similan Islands is some of the best diving in the world.)

Things changed. First we checked into our super cute, comfortable, and cheap bungalow. Then we rented a scooter and realized that there are a multitude of near deserted beaches within 10 minutes of here. Then we realized that there is a fantastic noodle soup stand right across the street from our bungalow. Then we met some of the nice and super relaxed locals in this area. Needless to say, we have been here for almost a week now. =)

We’ve spent our days on the beach playing in the waves, driving around checking out waterfalls, exploring back roads, and testing out local “restaurants” with super cheap and tasty (yet very spicy) food. We went to the market yesterday to check out all that was on offer. A great market with tons to buy, and of course tons to eat. As usual, Perry indulged in the meats, and I in the sweet Thai deserts. Sticky rice with banana cooked in banana leaf, young coconut juice . . . sooo good! I swear I will gain 300 lbs before we leave Thailand. I’m almost hoping that the food in Laos and Cambodia won’t be as good. I know I will be hopeless in Vietnam . . .

I have finally gotten around to organizing the diving. We leave tomorrow for a 4 day excursion to Similan Islands. I’m a little nervous about diving again after so long, but the company has offered me a thorough “refresher course” and a near dedicated instructor, so that has calmed my fears a bit. We’ll update again upon our return to Khao Lak.

Love to you all. As always check out photo gallery for more of our adventures. http://gallery.me.com/adamschen

Krabi (Perry)

2009-03-11T21:17:00.000-07:00

After leaving Khao Sok, which I also thought was fantastic by the way, we decided to go a bit more south and head to Krabi. Krabi town was the first place that Jen and I had not booked a place in advance and at first, it appeared as if our plan would backfire. Based on the Lonely Planet “Bible”, the Chan Cha Lay was the place to be...clean and cheap bungalows . . . but alas the place was booked. So, we decided to walk the streets and after about 5 minutes (did I mention that I overpacked and my bag was killing me after 5 minutes) we settled on the Cha Guest House. In this situation, first impressions were deceiving as the place turned out to be quite a find. The same can be said for Krabi town.

In our plans, Krabi town was only going be a jumping ground to Railay Beach which we’d heard so many good things about. So, after the first night, we repacked and headed to the pier to take a taxi boat to Railay. Upon arrival at East Railay, we set out on finding accommodation. The first place we checked out was the Ya Ya, which was decent but did not warrant double in price of Cha Guest House in Krabi town. We still had hope and continued our search, but soon realized that the Ya Ya was the standard. Long story short, after about 2 hours, we headed back on the boat and checked back into Cha. Did we jump the gun? Were we to quick to judge Railay Beach? Just to give perspective, a very nice girl named Nicole that we met on the ride in joined us on the ride back.

(For those who love Railay, we later learned from our climbing guide that electricity had recently been run under the water to provide power to the many large and expensive resorts on West Railay. East Railay, which apparently was always not really suitable for swimming due to mangrove trees, etc. is now not suitable for swimming due to inadequate clean up from this project and many work trucks leaking oil into the water.)

Over the next couple of days, Jen and I began to really like Krabi town. The town had a charm to it and our accommodation turned out to be pretty good. Also, within a 5 minute walk was a night market which served amazing and cheap food. Did someone say cheap food!! We definitely ate well in Krabi town. The Thai desserts and fresh Chinese donuts with Thai tea were Jen's favorite. For me, it was the bone marrow spicy soup.

In addition, we decided to sign up for a 3 day mountain climbing course which would cover everything from top rope climbing to lead climbing. I can’t speak for Jen but I was pretty excited. While I’ve done some indoor, climbing was totally new to Jen and also, I’ve always wanted to learn to lead climb. In addition, the climbing course took place at Railay and Phra Nang beaches, which allowed us to enjoy the beautiful beaches around that area during the day, without having to stay in dirty East Railay, or pay top dollar to stay in West Railay either.

Over the course of the next 4 days (thankfully they gave us a day off in between the 2nd and third day so that we could regain feeling in our fingers), Jen and I scaled some pretty amazing routes and learned a pretty cool new hobby, thanks mostly to our great guide named Solay. If ever there was a sport that needed a calm and composed coach, this was it. Solay was both and more. Eventually, Jen and I both learned to lead climb with the help of a top rope for extra security, but on the third day, I completed three lead climbs all on my own!!! To say the least, I was stoked when they were done, but the way up was a combination of nerves and sweat...a lot of sweat.

In total, we spent about a week in Krabi and I definitely think that this and Khao Sok have been my favorite places so far. We’re now on our way to Khao Lak and I can’t wait to see what happens next.

For more photos, go to http://gallery.me.com/adamschen

Khao Sok National Park (Jen)

2009-03-06T06:28:00.000-08:00

As you can probably tell if you have checked our photo gallery lately, Khao Sok was my favorite place we have visited so far. We took so many photos! It might be because this is the first “new” place for me, but I think it is more because it is an absolutely gorgeous place. We did some fantastic and challenging hikes. The “waterfalls” at the end of the trails cannot really rival those we are used to at home, but the trails themselves were gorgeous.

We stayed at a very quaint guesthouse called “Our Jungle House”, run by a quirky German Klaus and his Thai wife Pawn. We truly were in the Jungle. At night you can hear so many different animal sounds and see so many stars. On the hikes you can see so many different types of vegetation. We also saw a lot of wildlife, including monkeys, gibbons, couple of snakes, lizards, frogs, wild pig, hornbill, and of course bats. We tired to take photos, but aren’t so proficient with our camera yet . . .

We took a two day trip to Cheow Lan Lake to hike through Namtaloo Cave (also part of the park, but a bit far off). It was a little unnerving in there, walking through water up to your chest with tons of bats hanging overhead. But, it was a pretty cool experience. We stayed in floating raft houses which were great because you can just jump out your front door into the nice clean water of the lake. They weren’t great though, because I’m pretty sure that they have not been cleaned for a long, long time, or perhaps ever. We stayed with some cool people there as well, mostly German and Dutch. It was a small group of 9 which was a good size. I was happy with safety in numbers in that cave! I was excited though, to let Devan know that his Auntie Jen actually went to the “bat cave” after all. I have a feeling he wouldn’t like it as much as he thinks he would . . . ;-)

If felt great to get some exercise after so many days laying on the beach, and the nights were quite cool which made for good sleeps too. Lots of mosquitoes, but you can’t have it all. =)

For more photos go to http://gallery.me.com/adamschen

Koh Samui (Perry)

2009-03-05T20:03:00.000-08:00

As I'm writing this Jen and I are actually in Khao Sok National Park, but I feel that I need to touch upon our time in Koh Samui. Of the 2 previous islands we visited, Samui was the biggest and by far the most developed. As such, Jen and I decided that after roughing it Thailand style, we needed some luxury. Hello Anong Guest House.

Arriving by ferry, we were whisked away by taxi to the main beach area of Samui, Haad Cheweng. To get an idea of Cheweng, all you need to know is that there’s a Starbucks, MacDonald’s and Burger King all on the same street. After walking the streets, we settled on Anong Guest House, a decent place tucked in off the main drag. For 800 baht a night, we had air conditioning, hot water, and a toilet that flushed. We had found paradise. Or so we thought.

After a couple of nights in Samui, passing the time checking out the street markets and visiting some of the bars, we figured we were done with the island. And honestly this had nothing to do with both Jen and I getting destroyed in Connect 4 by a super friendly Thai “bar girl”. Seriously, this girl beat us 20 times in a row. No, we were done with the chaos of it all. Plus, we had quickly realized that our “luxury” guesthouse was a little too near the main nightclub “Green Mango” and as a result we weren’t actually getting much rest.

Anyways, on the third and what we thought last day, we were walking the streets looking for a place to book our boat off the island and we were stopped by a Thai guy named Cola. He was obviously selling something but he was pleasant enough and we had nowhere to be so we decided to humor him and play the scratch cards he had thrust into our hands. After checking Jen’s he became very excited. He pleaded with us to listen to some sort of “presentation” for one hour. If we did, he would receive $100 USD from his boss. He also assured us that Jen had won one of four prizes on the back of the card, one of which was a week in a 5 star resort.

Well, we were pretty skeptical, but we agreed, mostly due to Cola’s full-on excitement. Long story short, turns out we actually DID win something, and so spent the following 5 nights at Samui Cliff View Resort. A huge step up from the Anong guesthouse. This place was NICE and obviously a bit more expensive than what was in our initial budget. We both agreed it was time to enjoy a proper honeymoon and decided to stay in Koh Samui a few more days.

An added bonus to the place was that it was right in between two beaches (Lamai and Chewang) so the only economic way to get around was by scooter. That’s right, I finally realized my European dream of driving a scooter. Never mind that it was an automatic and that I nearly drove into on-coming traffic when I first fired it up, it was still a scooter. So for the next few days, Jen and I drove our “hog” around and tore up the island roads, enjoyed the gorgeous pool and views at Samui Cliff View, and did not eat in the hotel’s overpriced restaurant. (Well, ok, we did once . . . )

For photos, as always, visit http://gallery.me.com/adamschen

Island Fever (Jen)

2009-02-17T03:42:00.000-08:00

Ah, we are finally settling in a very relaxed existence. Since Bangkok, we spent three (or four?) nights at Tanote Bay on Koh Tao. Now we have been at Hat Yuan on Koh Pang Ngan since Valentine's. Tanote Bay was VERY relaxed. Our favorite was the bar/restaurant next to our guesthouse which offered all day wifi for 100 Baht. (Here on Koh Pang Ngan it is 120 for an hour . . . . )

We did a couple hikes - from Tanote Bay to Sai Ree beach on Koh Tao, and today from Haad Yuan to Haad Rin on Koh Pang Ngan. Both times we got lost and ended up with a much longer hike than intended . . . . Lots of uphill . . . . definitely better than bikini bootcamp.

We took a boat ride/snorkeling tour around Koh Tao, which was fantastic. Perry is no longer nervous about swimming at all. Actually both beaches have been perfectly calm bays for swimming. Haad Yuan is definitely the more picturesque of the two though. Gorgeous clear turquoise water.

We got a small taste of Koh Pang Ngan party atmosphere even here on Haad Yuan. There was a wedding on our beach the other night, and afterward a party at one of the bars. It was definitely a good time. And just enough for us. We are definitely not up for the full moon party this go around.

Now we are thinking about taking off tomorrow. Perhaps to Khao Sok National Park for a beach break. And a break from our mosquito infested bungalow (with twin beds . . . ) here at the "Barcelona" in Koh Pang Ngan. Cheap, but difficult to take a shower because the light in the bathroom works only sometimes, and there are no screens. I.e. lots of mosquitos biting your bum in there . . . . ;-)

As always, for more photos visit http://gallery.me.com/adamschen

One week in Bangkok (Perry)

2009-02-11T04:07:00.000-08:00

Well it's been about a week in Bangkok and Jen and I have decided it's time to move to a more relaxing environment. I think at this point, we both still feel like this is a holiday because in the last 5 days, we jammed in quite a bit of stuff.

Upon arrival we were picked up by a couple of Jen's host sisters, Lek and Jin, and dropped off a our hotel, Rambuttri Village, which is about a block from Khao San Road For about 800 Baht (around $27) per night, you get a very basic room but thankfully with air conditioning. I know I'll eventually get used to the heat but I was basically a puddle the first few hours. That evening we enjoyed a great dinner at a restaurant recently opened up by another one of Jen's host sisters, Thip. The restaurant was very modern looking, which was not at all what I was expecting, and the food was amazing. Best way to describe it would be Thai-Chinese fusion. The best part was that I finally got to meet Jen's host family and they are definitely some of the nicest people I've ever met.

For the next few days, we went about seeing the sights. We saw some amazing temples and Buddha statues and experienced some pretty interesting things. Now I would never consider Jen and I the gullible type, but as I'm writing this, I can honestly say that we fell for a couple of tourist scams. Now we're not talking thousands or even hundreds of dollars, but still, it's the principle.

The first scam started with us getting a tuk-tuk (three wheeled taxi). The driver was very nice and suggested a few of the temples to see. Starting with the Standing Buddha and the Lucky Buddha. The day was off to a good start. The next temple (the Grand Palace) that we wanted to see he said was closed, so he took us to an alternate. Once there though, we were told this temple was closed as well until after lunch. And this is where we think the "gem scam" started to take shape. As we were led to a waiting area in the courtyard, we ended up sitting beside a "teacher" at the temple. Small chit chat ensued and he was a very pleasant man. Then he mentioned how Thailand is very famous for their sapphires and rubies and that we were in luck because once a week, every year, a local mine sells some pieces of jewelery retail and that today was the very last day. To further add to our luck, it was 12:15 and the store was open just until 1pm.

Of course at this point, both Jen and my bullshit radars were screaming. The "teacher" continued to talk about these jewelery pieces and how he would buy every year at this time, ship the pieces to the US, and double his money. Again, radars screaming but the man was pleasant enough so we were still engaged in the conversation. then the clincher. All of a sudden this German tourist appears and eventually joins our conversation. To our surprise, he backs up the local and says that he also has purchased jewelery at this yearly sale and made 150% profit. Now I wouldn't say that we leapt off our seats, but we somewhat hurried back to our tuk-tuk and told the driver that we would like to go and see this store. 2 minutes later, we're in front of a very unassuming store and we are herded in by a salesperson. Once inside we got a taste of high pressure sales, Thailand style. VEry nice man, but never more than two feet from us. Suffice it to say, we finally came to our senses and got out of there without spending a Baht.

We finally clued in on the scam when we asked out driver to take us for some food and he suggested that we go to another jewelery store. He said something like we just go look for 5 minutes so he could get a gasoline credit. A bit confused but mostly just hot and tired at this point, we agree and off we go. Upon arrival, again we are ushered in and to our surprise, we hear the exact same story. This store only sells to the public for a week per year and today is the last day. Booyah. Clarity at last. You cannot believe how relieved we are that we didn't buy anything in the end.

The next day we awoke and decided no more tuk-tuks or taxis, but instead we would walk. OUr attempt at the Grand Palace was thwarted yesterday but we figured if we set out by foot, nothing would stop us. The walk started out uneventful enough but as we were not more than 20 minutes away, we were stopped by a young local. For those of you who have never been to Thailand, the people here are very ice and very proud of their country so it's not rare to be stopped by locals who are more than willing to tell you what you should see.

I'm pretty sure it was me who first stopped, since for the first few days, I've probably heard 10 or more people talk about how I should get a suit made. Anyways, this young man named Jay says he is a university student on break and asks us where we are going. We say the Grand Palace. To our surprise, he says that the Palace is closed in the morning because of a national holiday. Our heads are buzzing. Was the tuk-tuk driver from the previous day telling us the truth? Regardless, he continues on by saying that we should take a canal ride to see the city and that the canal will drop us off at the end at a temple. He says that for 1800 Baht for the two of us, we'll get an amazing ride that he himself and his girlfriend took just the day before. But only with we go to the "Thai pier" because the tourist pier will charge us double. Before we could say yes, he's hailing us a tuk-tuk and we're off.

Now the boat ride was pretty cool and we eventually did make it to the Grand Palace. As a bonus, we also saw another cool temple called Wat Arun. So how does this sound like a scam? Well, when we finally got there we saw that the Grand Palace is open every day and as we left, we were offered the same boat ride for 1,000 Baht. And to boot, instead of seeing the palace in the early morning, we were there at the height of the day's heat.

Anyways, nothing too major, but no one likes to get scammed. The biggest questions for us though are whether or not the "teacher" we met was really a teacher and whether Jay was really trying to scam us. I know we ended up paying too much for the boat ride, but did he really send us on our way knowing this? Also, where did they find the German?

p.s. to see more pics, go to http://gallery.me.com/adamschen

We made it! (Jen)

2009-02-05T18:12:00.000-08:00

Hi everybody! We have made it safely to Bangkok. It is HOT, but we are adjusting. Very happy we paid extra for the pool and the air-con at first. We will enjoy this luxury while it lasts . . .

We met with my host family. It was so great to see them! We had dinner the night we arrived . . . yikes we were tired but it also cured our jet lag. We are on Thai time now. =)

Running out of internet time so will write more later on. But, wanted to send on a link to our photo gallery also. It is

http://gallery.me.com/adamschen

Preview is pic of Perry - clearly in Thailand now! Check out the flag and the tuk-tuks . . . . . .

Love, Jen & Perry