Where the Hell is Joe?

A Backpacker Catapulted 'Up in the Air'

2010-11-17T10:09:00.001-06:00

Where have I been? I've been up in the air for the past couple of years.

With a heap of gritty and sometimes scary backpacker experiences under my belt, I entered the corporate world in late 2008 ready for an entirely new type of experience. Within a week of starting work for a big 4 accounting firm in San Francisco, I was off to Scottsdale, AZ for some good 'ole fashioned corporate training. Without going into detail, it was at that moment when I knew the days of sketchy $3 hotels and dodgy meals were about to end. A bitter-sweet turning point.

Having made it clear to my colleagues that I could withstand the road-warrior lifestyle during my internship a year earlier, I received a phone call while in Scottsdale that my first assignment would take place in Kuala Lumpur... Back to Malaysia! This was probably the most uplifting thing I could have heard as I transitioned from backpacking to the real world. Just before Malaysia, my motivation was confirmed as our team gathered in Napa for a 'get back in touch' sort of gathering and more team-specific training.

Two years later, I've flown approximately 200,000 miles, spent around 150 nights in business hotels, and worked in Japan, Canada, South Korea, Mexico, and Peru, not to mention nearly half the states in the US! Britt and I currently live in Paris, France as my firm has coordinated a four month exchange for me, more on that later.

The type of travel I've experienced has completely changed, as expected. My primary travel resource changed from Lonely Planet books to www.flyertalk.com, an online business traveler community. Now, I would like to share some key reflections:

1. Bigger, more luxurious hotel rooms/suites, are not necessarily more satisfying than budget guest houses.

While I've had some uncomfortable moments in questionable hotels while backpacking, the vast majority of backpacking nights were spent in communal guest houses or, at times, hostels. These usually include enough comfort to be comfortable, but not to waste a vacation in the room; also, unfettered access to kitchens is a bonus. Additionally, guest houses designed for backpackers are teeming with other travelers and advice on the local and surrounding areas. These hotels put you in the position to interact with others.

In contrast, I have now stayed in some of the largest suites in some of the most luxurious properties around the world. These upgrades were all given for free thanks to elite status with both Starwood and Hyatt. Brittany and I were once given a huge suite in Anchorage called "The Pacific Rim Suite." This was, at the time, the largest suite I had ever stayed in. It would have been great if traveling with 100 friends and hosting a cocktail party, but instead the large empty space gave us a hollow feeling. The two of us had no use for it. I'll never forget the huge viewing window between the master bed and over-sized shower room, kind of kinky, kind of creepy. At this type of hotel you are paying for complete privacy, which I understand if you are a really private person and making good use of the viewing window.

2. It is ALWAYS worth it to ask for a flight, rental car, hotel upgrade

For air travel, the gate agent has the most control over your seat. If they like you, they can click a button and upgrade you to first class. If they dislike you, they can pull you off a plane, superseding any supervisor, TSA agent, or real police officer. It is generally not as helpful to ask the desk agent when you check in for your flight, or the purser (head flight attendant) while in flight. You never know when the gate agent pay have an available seat in first class and need a pleasant passenger to use it.

For car rental and hotels, call in your request ahead of time and ask customer service to just add a note, even if success is unlikely. When I rent cars, I always call ahead and ask if I can be upgraded from an intermediate car to a Cadillac CTS, should one be available. Renting the intermediate car class is also a key to success. It often doesn't cost much more than a subcompact, but it is that magic category allowing for upgrades. Full-size is sometimes the same price and works even better. For hotels, I always make sure to add a note if my anniversary, birthday, whatever event is near the travel date.

3. I'll never stop backpacking

Even though they often cross paths, business travel and backpacking are distinctly different. There's no way I could satisfy backpacking travel goals while on a business trip. Also, I plan personal trips in locations that I don't expect to travel for work. This works out well because I don't end up double-backing to the same places and business travel locations are typically more costly, so why spend my own money in places like London, Hong Kong, or New York?

More to come.

Our Engagement

2009-07-28T02:05:00.014-05:00

Why haven't I posted in so long?

The Europe writeup came amidst the backdrop of life as it changed rapidly. We left Europe just over a year ago, and, immediately before that adventure came to an end something new emerged.

Moving around quickly, we blinked and found ourselves atop the Eiffel Tower with only a few hours to spare before our plane departed - or was it?

Looking over Paris' infinity of architecture and history, I looked at Brittany innocently and smiled. Taking another moment, we peered together. With slight disappointment, as when good things come to an end, Brittany mentioned again that we should get going else we would miss our flight - not too concerned about the flight, I continued to peer.

As I mumbled something about what our hotel view might look like tonight, Brittany looked at me as if I was drunk, time slowed down, and my heart gonged as I dropped to one knee and presented her with a simple yes or no question. She looked at me as if I was playing an evil joke, paused, then cried a faint "yes" as her eyes teared.

(Moments Before)

It was then that I told Brittany a quick story about:

Realizing the decision while descending from thin air and describing it with metaphor in my Everest blog article, "...my scattered thought process started to only register the important things in life. These thoughts would float vigorously and aimlessly as I entered thin air, and gently glide into position as my trekking companion and I soon descended. A few priorities have changed."... "Next week I fly to India to continue the journey with my amazing girlfriend Brittany, priority number 1."
Crawling under a counter at a grungy internet cafe in India to ask her father's permission a month earlier (just after she left home to meet me)
Intentionally booking our flights (only issued in paper ticket format) to leave Paris one day later than planned
Booking the first really proper hotel of the trip, overlooking Paris and the Eiffel Tower
My cousin, Kendall, scoring us dinner reservations at an amazing restaurant atop Centre Pompidou
My sincerity, love, and commitment to our relationship

(Chez Georges atop Centre Pompidou; Brittany bought her
dress at the train station where we had stashed our backpacks)

The next day we flew to New Jersey, slummed it Amtrak-style over to Brooklyn to stay with Kendall, spent a couple of days transitioning back to the states, and salvaged one last surprise.

Originally picking up flights from New York to Arkansas with intentions of strolling into my extended family's reunion and surprising the pants off of my parents by showing up unexpectedly and engaged, plans changed.

My grandfather was diagnosed with cancer and we re-routed to Louisiana. Fortunately, the prognosis appeared strong by the time we made it to New Orleans and many surprises and tears streamed throughout the weekend. Since then, my courageous grandfather has conquered cancer and spent his 90th birthday in good health.

Brittany and I parted for only a few days to visit our families before embarking on a 30 day, 6,000+ mile road trip up the Rockies all the way to Jasper Park in Alberta, Canada, over to Vancouver, and down the coast to our current hometown, San Francisco.

(Washington State, untouched beaches west of Forks)

We picked up bikes in Colorado, an annual National Park pass outside Glacier National Park in Montana, and pitched tent in any campground or trailer park that would host us.

(Lake Louise in Banff National Park; Alberta, Canada)

Driving up, over, and down the states felt like a victory lap after winning a race around the world and winning each other as the grand prize.

The love of my life

www.October17Houston.com

Planes and Trains - Eurostint 2008

2008-07-21T11:12:00.001-05:00

Touching down in Paris, Brittany and I booked it to the train terminal and bought unlimited rail passes. We sped from country to country on high-speed bullet trains, stopping from time to time to check out the highlights and dabble in local culture.

We traveled through the following places:

France - Paris, Bordeaux
Spain - Madrid, Barcelona
Italy - Rome, Venice
Switzerland - Interlocken
Austria - Vienna
Germany - Frankfurt, Weitzbaden
Netherlands - Amsterdam
Belgium - Brugge
France - Versailles, Dijon, Paris

Pictures to come...

Update

2008-06-21T22:21:00.001-05:00

Look for more in a couple of weeks... say around mid July

Nevermind - Delhi, India

2008-06-03T14:57:00.003-05:00

Brittany landed her dream job in San Francisco. We both officially graduated two weeks ago. These events called for a time to celebrate and unfortunately India is not that type of place.
While in Nepal I once heard the country´s name stands for:

Never
Ending
Peace
And
Love

And India stands for:

I´ll
Never
Do
It
Again

Attempting to think more open-mindedly than that, we set out to plan a wonderful adventure through northern India´s mountains and forests. We didn´t make it very far.

[2009 Edit: The following description of our time in India sounds harsh and was harsh for us at the particular moment we visited. The country commands much respect from seasoned travelers because it's a land of about a billion people, many just trying to make ends meet. We have pledged and look forward to return, just not after spending four months apart. I highly recommend India for anyone looking to gain inner peace, patience, and appreciation for life's quaintest joys.]

Trying for days to leave Delhi, we passed out each evening exhausted from dodging touts and trying to make our way through Delhi´s deceptive and intricate traveler scams. Trying to book a train to the Taj Mahal resulted in an unfortunate chain of events leading to violent threats and minor assault from a crooked travel agent. We eventually took an overnight train and made it out to Corbett Tiger Reserve, only for our guide´s jeep to break down mid-morning and leave us stranded. Constantly battling petty scams and gastrointestinal ailments we looked at our options and listened to our burbling gut... get the hell away from India´s pollution, poverty, and invasive encounters with locals.

With little more than a phone call and some haggling we changed our tickets and hopped on the next flight to Paris. It´s been a week since we left India and our bodies are still fighting off intestinal and sinus issues.

Europe has offered a pleasant change of pace and we picked up unlimited global rail passes - so we can jump on and off any train throughout 20 European countries. We´ll probably visit 8 countries as we make our way around the motherland. Europe has treated us extremely well as I sit here in Madrid, digesting paella and lomo. Paris felt like home and I actually drank tap water and brushed my teeth with it for the first time since January.

There´s much to see, so much to write about, and so much to do while we´re here - so I must now sign off and head out to absorb as much as I can.

Everest Base Camp Trek, Nepal (18,000ft)

2008-05-16T05:56:00.004-05:00

Death peered over me as my body lay awake all night above 17,000 feet, or so I envisioned.

High altitude trekking contrasts traditional hiking in that it complements physical stress with an added mental duress. Take a simple bag of chips from sea level to 6,000 feet, say in one of the higher areas near Denver, and watch the bag expand to the cusp of bursting. Take something so complex as the human body three times higher to 18,000 feet and the brown stuff hits the fan.

Try to imagine this:

Cracking through my skull, a headache whipped through my head as I lay awake all night. Fatigue ached my muscles, tired from walking up dozens of miles in the rocky Himalaya. My heart raced as it tried to pump enough oxygen through my veins, drawing from thin air depleted to 50% the normal oxygen level. The acclimatization drug Diamox drained my corpus of fluid, drying out my throat more and more each time I rose out of my cold sleeping bag to eventually fill my third 1 liter bottle with urine. Subfreezing air rasped my filthy room in the mountain lodge as I cringed into a fetal position inside a -10 degree Celsius sleeping bag and under a heavy blanket. Low grade fever developed as I occasionally coughed and stared blankly at the thin, colorless wall to my right. Like particles in the bag of chips, my thoughts scattered more and more as I spent each night toward Everest Base Camp.

These ill-effects last up to a few hours in the daytime and typically fade as the body gradually adapts to altitude, leaving only memories behind. I debated how to write this entry, how to depict the most strenuous trek of my life, and decided to communicate the experience to the level of detail that I felt. Pardon the expression, but acclimatizing to those altitudes made me feel like yak shit. Somewhere in the silence of those wretched nights anxiety engulfed my thoughts for perhaps the second or third time in my conscious memory, and my scattered thought process started to only register the important things in life. These thoughts would float vigorously and aimlessly as I entered thin air, and gently glide into position as my trekking companion and I soon descended. A few priorities have changed.

Deciding to take on an "impossible" day as we were told by each Sherpa we encountered, Todd and I raced down 25 miles of difficult trail in search of heavy air, comfortable beds, a hot shower (my first shower in 10 days!), and meat, a rarity high in the mountains. Sucking down mouthfuls of thick air, we slept like infants before rising to conquer yet another massive descent to our final destination of Lukla. The lightening descent shaved three days off our trek and quickly brought our vitals out of remission.

Visiting Everest Base Camp offered us a rare glimpse into the world of hardcore mountaineering. Take my experience and multiply it to imagine what those gauchos experience; I'm not jealous. We ate freshly baked apple pie and sipped ginger tea at Base Camp in the Year of the Rat, just days after China summited the Olympic torch atop Mt. Everest and unlocked Sagarmatha's belt. Fortunately, Diamox and Ibuprofen spared the duress of altitude throughout our glorious final walk to Base Camp. I enjoyed every moment and can say approaching Base Camp's city of tents almost felt worth the struggle (needless to say though, I'm done with extreme altitude for a while!)

Regarding health on the mountain, nearly all of my symptoms were considered typical, spare the brief fever. I sought this trek only after participating in high altitude seminars [not to mention 4 summers as a wilderness guide and a recent jaunt around Nepal's equally tall though less painful Annapurna Circuit (see below)]. Everest teems with the world's most experienced mountaineers and experts on the effects of altitude. Throughout the trek I never once considered my health in danger. High altitude temporarily alters the thought process, though not more than a night of drinking. After all, I flew back to Kathmandu from Lukla early this morning and I'm sitting here typing a [hopefully] coherent response in perfect health.

Yes, I would recommend this trek, though only after appropriate training and/or under the supervision of a capable guide. If you want to experience the highest region on Earth remember to take it slow on the way up and drink TONS of water.

This week I relax in what's become the familiar town of Kathmandu.

Next week I fly to India to continue the journey with my amazing girlfriend Brittany, priority number 1.

The Indian Embassy - Kathmandu, Nepal

2008-05-05T05:31:00.003-05:00

For the love of whatever religious figure you revere most, DO NOT EVER try to sort out an Indian Visa while in Nepal. I don't believe in complaining and even wear a rubber bracelet sometimes to publicize that belief, but this experience is worth mentioning because it's been utterly ridiculous and has grounded me in Kathmandu for a solid week.

Months ago I purchased a flight from Nepal to India, no problem except that e-tickets are not allowed for this route by government mandate; The ticket would have to be mailed from London to Kathmandu where I'll pick it up in person - call this bureaucratic foreshadowing.

Attempting to book a flight from Bombay to Paris I was rejected. One can book a flight into India easily, but you can't book a departing flight without proof of an Indian Visa.

How to get an Indian Visa while in Nepal:

1 - Arrive at midnight to stand in line with other travelers until 4am when numbered tokens are handed out.

2 - Return at 9am, hand in your token, take your designated place in line, and enter the Embassy single file

3 - Stand in line to submit an application to apply for an application for an Indian Visa. - The counter closes at noon no matter how many people are still waiting faithfully in queue and have been for hours.

4 - Pay $5 to send this application for an application to sit on someone's desk in Delhi

5 - Wait no less than 3 and no more than 10 business days before returning for Phase 2 - otherwise start over

6 - Repeat steps 1 and 2

7 - Stand in a different line leading to the same clerk to submit the actual application for an Indian Visa

8 - Pay $50 processing fee and add the usual US-Citizen tax ($25 in this case)

9 - Return to Embassy no earlier than 4:30 and no later than 5:30pm to pick up Visa, if approved.

These steps lack logic, efficiency, and display - it's up to each individual to figure it out his/herself. I met many people making their 12th, 14th, etc. etc. visits after standing in line all morning and being repeatedly turned away for a multitude of reasons. One guy had visited over 20 times in frustration to the point where it looked like he needed potent anti-depressants and a hug. To make matters worse, the guards will distribute tokens all morning long knowing people will wait for 6 hours only to find out that the counter closes sharply at noon, the time at which all those in line are ordered to vacate the premises and try again some other time.

Lesson learned? Always carry an iPod and a good book.

10 Days Afloat - Karnali River, Western Nepal

2008-05-04T04:56:00.002-05:00

Atrophied and awkwardly positioned, my back finally started to adapt to bouncing around in the fetal position across the pew-shaped and slightly padded bus seats which carried my small group 24 hours from Kathmandu to the launching point.

Brittany and I pride ourselves upon conquering some epic road trips, driving up to 27-hour segments before stopping for more than gas or food - cruising over 4,500 miles in a week-long dash around the mid western US - but this was so painfully different. The drive into western Nepal takes so long not due to distance, but because of Nepal's primitive and scarred infrastructure. A 100 mile journey takes 6-7 hours by bus on the better highways. For 24 hours my bones rattled as I bounced out of my seat and sometimes into the aisle. Forget sleeping or reading a book to pass time; I had so much trouble even manipulating my iPod that I finally said screw it and pretended I was getting a long, non-air conditioned Nepali massage. As is almost always the case, it was worth it.

Our guide estimates that only 10-15 rafts float the Karnali river each year due to the difficulty of logistics. In five years no one will enjoy the untouched civilizations and class IV+ rapids we conquered. Nepal claims position as the 6th poorest country in the world and things like world-class rafting trips don't mean much compared to potential revenues to be earned by large dams spanning and altering steep Himalayan rivers. Nepal won't use the generated electricity to fill in the 8-hour daily power shortages nationwide, rather they will sell the power to India or China.

Currently, the Karnali offers a stunning experience to its occasional visitor. Joining me were girls from New Zealand and Australia, a couple from Holland, a guide-in-training from England, and another male solo-traveler from Holland. We camped each night on its banks, played beach volleyball, chatted about our cultural differences, and each day became more comfortable with the curious locals. Each day we joked, massacred classic songs, and took turns wrestling each other overboard as we made our way down over 100 miles of mountain run-off and melted glacier.

Surrounding us each day were dozens of forest fires whose smoke filtered the view. Unlike the media frenzy and chaotic movement to save homes around California's Lake Tahoe and southern regions, nature took its course gracefully and without retaliation. Each night we'd look upon strips of blazing forest, traveling ever so slowly across the valley as the heat and dry air performed their annual duties. Never did we sleep in areas vulnerable to the risks imposed by the flames, we just glared into the lonely night sky each evening and fell asleep shortly after dusk under the glow of nature's process and a canopy of stars beaming brighter than ever.

The most fascinating and memorable memories of the trip included our interactions with the native residents. We bought meats from them, including fish, a freshly cut venison leg (including fur and hoof), and live chickens whom we appropriately named "Lunch" and "Dinner." We took the local peoples' portraits and watched their minds get blown over seeing themselves on the screen of our tiny devices.

We listened as the elders tried to communicate basic medical needs. And we left them with whatever medical supplies we had to offer: including band-aids, betadine solution, and eye drops for an older woman who works alongside everyone else each day in the dry, dusty air who appeared to have been rubbing her left eye for forty years. For the more serious problems, including a woman in a red dress who had recently been rammed and injured by a bull, I wish I had the training and supplies to do something more significant. This was a culture preserved from modern life. The people were beautiful in so many ways.

Follow the Yak Poo! - Annapurna Circuit, Nepal

2008-04-19T05:33:00.003-05:00

Springing out of bed, I almost made it to the toilet before the vomiting started again. A sunburn and altitude cocktail would bring me to my knees throughout the night as my body scolded my decision to hike well into the Himalayan mountains.Seven days prior to this episode I met Sam, a British traveler of the same age, and without a guide, porter, or map we embarked on our journey throughout central Nepal. These forfeits worked out well as we watched hikers fire their guides, depend too much on their porters, and, well, we just followed the yak and mule poop to navigate past the few stray paths.

Trekking in many regions of Nepal offers a unique opportunity to interact with remote villages - one needn't pack any food or cooking equipment because hundreds of Nepalese have converted their quaint abodes into guesthouse/cafes. The hike itself snakes through massive valleys, constantly offering breathtaking scenery. It didn't take long to realize that this is what it's all about.The first few days introduced the foot hills of the Himalayas and I'll never forget walking around a bend to see that first white peek so far in the distance. Sam and I made great progress, and then we met altitude. Acute Altitude Sickness can present itself as low as 10,000 feet. This hike took us up to more than 17,000 feet. Taking all standard precautions we took rest days and slowly gained altitude.
Achieving sleep for maybe 2 hours at Thorung Phedi Base Camp (altitude 14,500 feet), we rose at 4:30am and ventured into a blanket of fresh Himalayan snow to attempt the summit. All started well until each step added to a flutter of dizziness and nausea. I paused at the upper base camp lodge, took a Diamox (to help the body adapt to altitude), and we pushed on, reaching Thorung La pass (altitude 17,769 feet) sometime before noon.The last 16 days have set a new benchmark for this trip and now I look to the next journey - tomorrow I take an 18 hour bus ride to reach the launching point of the Karnali river, a ten day adventure in far western Nepal.

Base Camp - Kathmandu, Nepal

2008-04-01T07:31:00.001-05:00

Slaughtering a cow earns a two year prison sentence. Electricity cuts off every evening for about 4 hours. Welcome to Nepal and her largest city, Kathmandu.

Nepal made its way onto my destination list four years ago and a rush of anticipation and excitement took over my countenance as my Thai Airways lifted out of Bangkok. The next two months will stand out in my lifetime and tomorrow I begin a three+ week high altitude trek called the Annapurna Circuit. Though I'll stay in local villages each night and don't have to pack any food, my endurance will be put to the test as this may become a three week warm-up before attempting the Mount Everest Base Camp trek. No, I'm not going to try and summit Everest (which costs about $70,000 through a respectable agency).

The Road to Angkor Wat - Siem Reap, Cambodia

2008-04-01T07:06:00.002-05:00

Cambodia suffers a recent history of corruption and genocide. The demented Khmer Rouge organization murdered as many as a few million people and pillaged the country of it's culture and heritage. This rampage would end as recently as the 1980's.Angkor Wat and its surrounding area remains astounding, scattered with religious monuments of gargantuan proportion. The atheist Khmer Rouge stripped many religious statues of their heads, though many of the 800 year old buildings still stand tall or in minor ruin. Enormous trees, many hundreds of years in age, grow out of some of the massive structures - this part blew my mind because it just cannot exist in the states.

No Longer Allowed to Visit Tibet

2008-03-24T08:54:00.002-05:00

Tibet will not see any visitors for a while. My itinerary has officially been re-routed in the midst of current events and I recently shredded my non-refundable flight from Bangkok to Hong Kong. As of one week ago I planned to travel overland from Hong Kong through the mountains of southwest China then into Tibet and Nepal. This route is no longer feasible as China has sealed Tibet's borders from the curiosity of foreigners and scrutiny of the media. Instead, I will join Thai Airlines and fly directly from Bangkok to Kathmandu, Nepal on March 30. This extends the Nepal portion of my trip to almost 2 months in the Himalayas; Mount Everest here I come!

My heart goes out to all Tibetans and their courageous monks who must continue to watch in vulnerability as China destroys and dilutes millenniums of Tibetan culture and its peaceful race.

Sex, Drugs, & Politics - Saigon, Vietnam

2008-03-24T08:42:00.003-05:00

Shall I re-phrase that?

Corroded old men with twenty-something year old local women.
Children as young as seven years old offering me pot and cocaine.
Street vendors asking me whether Obama or Clinton will win the election.

I cannot escape these three issues.

The first topic has been covered: Revisit "Tim the Sex Tourist;" Though I must say Tim proved himself extreme compared to these lonely old-timers. The ex-pats here in Saigon, Vietnam desire medium to long-term relationships, maybe with one girlfriend in each of a few different countries, and they throw tidbits of their pensions at the girls to pay for things like braces, rent, diapers, etc.

The young cocaine dealer approached me in Laos. A tiny boy stopped playing with his friend for a moment. He made the offer and along with it came a childishly playful yet serious smile as he caught a breath. I casually walked past. My younger brother has a couple of years on this boy and enjoys the innocence of a healthy American childhood. When not in school or practicing for his black belt in karate John plays with and cares for Scout, his loved dog. Contrast? Looking back on the child's drug offer, the uninterested expression I maintained at the moment made the situation seem almost imaginary - like recalling a scene from a movie, something that's not real. This far from home the departure from our perception of reality becomes so polarized that it just doesn't even register sometimes.

Everybody wants to know what's happening in America. For many, it determines whether their family will have enough rice on the table next year. Without going into detail, the American economy affects the entire world more than any other economy in the entire world. Even though Americans travel less than citizens of any other developed nation (check me on this), many businesses in any country base their pricing on the [generally] stable US Dollar. Locals in every single country I have visited ask about the elections. Literally, I have been approached by gregarious street vendors who first ask what country I'm from then follow up with a remark about Obama or Hilary Clinton. This has become so commonplace it no longer causes my jaw to fall. Interestingly, not many people have heard of McCain...

Hustle & Bustle - Hanoi, Vietnam

2008-03-16T07:04:00.002-05:00

Hanoi traffic is the Devil's symphony. Close your eyes, cross your fingers, and trust the other senses. Crossing the street in Vietnam requires faith and a little luck. Traffic lights contribute more to the scenery than to chaos-control as millions of residents compete for road space. Intersections look like YKK zippers as motorcyclists and pedestrians constantly merge towards each other, their paths tying a knot too convoluted for even a Boy Scout to unravel. I heard about the ways of the road from a guy I met in San Francisco who broke his pinky finger when an oncoming motorcyclist miscalculated his bike's trajectory by a smidgen.Fortunately I made it out of Hanoi in one piece on my way to the limestone carved islands of Halong Bay in Vietnam's Gulf of Tonkin. 3000 torpedo-shaped land masses jet out of the murky water giving bearing to dozens of wooden sleeper boats. One of these boats would constitute my viewing deck for 2 days and home for a single night. We briefly docked to walk through "Halong Bay's best cavern," supposedly discovered in 1993 and now laden with disco-colored flood lights. Thirty minutes of sea-kayaking and a few meals later I hopped on a bus back to Hanoi to catch my first overnight sleeper train.
I had no problem filling my wait time in Hanoi with gourmet seafood. Don't tell my girlfriend that I gorged on 3 dinners in a 5 hour period. Dinner 1 consisted of delicately fried soft shell crab finished with a saute of garlic and chili-pepper. The second supper took place on a street corner where I consumed possibly the largest shrimp formerly in existence, about 7 inches from nose to curl of the tail. Eating this beast compared to feasting on a foil-wrapped burrito; peel, bite, peel, bite, etc. Dinner 3 happened at the same location as number 1: grilled tiger prawns served in a spicy bath of lemon grass and chili-pepper. My stomach was now equipped to withstand having to eat in the restaurant car on the train for the next 14 hours...

Slowing Down in Laos

2008-03-15T07:23:00.003-05:00

Many kilometers have been covered since my last post. Laos, like Bali, makes for tough writing. The Laos experience involves slowing down to the pace of lethargic muddy rivers and easy-going hospitality - much like the southern US.

Following the Gibbon Experience I spent two days traveling downstream the Mekong River on the 'slow boat'. While frustrated backpackers and middle-aged westerners puddled around the main pew-like seating area, a few of us followed a crew member up a discreet ladder to the roof. From our private vantage point we enjoyed the craggy mountainous landscape over a few Beer Lao, contemplative conversation, and the occasional nap. Like life, traveling is what you make of it.

Our vessel finally dropped us in the enchanting World Heritage town of Luang Prabang where waterfalls and a Disney-like castle provide backdrop to French cafes and smog-free streets (not common in Asia). While awaiting a Vietnamese VISA I detoured north to a remote town called Nong Khiew for some trekking and encounters with hill tribe culture.

On the road to Nong Khiew I may or may not have eaten (hairy) cat broth poured over my carefully chosen cup-o-noodles. Dog, cat, rat, tarantula, freshly hatched birds, and many other appetising critters provide nutrition to many Southeast Asians. I'm not one to judge, but most of these are not part of my itinerary. In a few months (after China) I'll post a more comprehensive list of delicacies encountered.

Gibbon Experience - Huay Xai, Laos

2008-03-07T22:42:00.002-06:00

Like plunging out of a plane, stepping off that first platform invited an overwhelming rush to the senses. Wind plastered my face. The scream of metal on metal invaded my eardrums; And the acute yanking of a harness lifted my body as I quickly zipped more than a hundred feet over the jungle canopy of Laos. Following 25 years of communist rule, Laos closed its borders to sort things out. Not until the year 2000 did Laos reopen its borders to visitors, leaving it currently preserved from painstaking urban sprawl and the novelty of cookie-cutter tourist traps. France claimed Laos prior to communism and I admittedly felt a familiar comfort upon entering, as if experiencing a taste of Louisiana. Baguettes can be found scattered down sidewalks amongst french wines, crepes, and gourmet coffees. The food... is addictively cheap and flavorful.

A French ex-patriot, who previously taught his native language to Laos' elite, expressed disgust towards Laos' cut-and-burn forestry habits. Like many places in the world, poachers routinely scour the forest carelessly harvesting timber and collecting endangered carcasses. This creates short-term profits and causes long-term damage to the jungle and ecosystem. The Frenchman designed The Gibbon Experience to involve the community in the protection of their backyards and generate sufficient funds to hire rangers. He sought to fabricate an independent project that could produce as much money as a mill while preserving the environment. His project has been operational for about 2 to 3 years and has apprehended over 1000 poachers.

To the backpacker, The Gibbon Experience means hiking into the wilderness to spend an afternoon learning how to use a vast zipline system, then waving goodbye to the guide and spending 3 days and 2 nights living high, 80 feet up in a treehouse and freely exploring the cables on your own or with friends. This... has been the highlight of my trip. Having the freedom to explore and swoop high above the treetops will stand out as an extraordinary experience. Brittany and I took a canopy zipline day trip in Costa Rica's cloud forest 3 years ago, but this kind of opportunity is currently unparalelled in the entire world.

http://www.gibbonx.org/

Massages and Motorbikes - Chiang Mai, Thailand

2008-03-07T21:41:00.002-06:00

Thailand is a backpacker mecca because it's financially cheap, culturally rich, and geographically diverse. Warm smiles and friendly faces awaited me at Chiang Mai's international terminal. Getting there from the Philippines included a 16 hour layover in Kuala Lumpur, a story in itself. Tired from three days of traveling I hopped in a tuk tuk and made my way into the heart of Chiang Mai. Brittany and I spent 3 weeks in Thailand a year earlier and the elevated plains and spirituality of Chiang Mai engraved longlasting images in my memory. Orange wrapped monks peacefully swarm the streets in search of deeper understanding and harmony. Aromas of basil and thai chili pour from open-air eateries and massage the olfactory of passers-by. The occasional elephant conquers a lane of traffic and a gaggle of locals and ex-patriot westerners zip down the streets on Japanese motorbikes.

Within an hour I checked into a backpacker-cheap hotel, rented a motorbike, and laid prostrate at the mercy of a thai masseuse. I spent the next few days enjoying the serenity of the area and exploring the surrounding hills. Thailand was not a primary destination on this trip so I fueled up on local cuisine, replaced some worn clothing, and prepared for the journey to mystical Laos.

Orphans & Anthems - Baguio, Philippines

2008-02-28T04:18:00.004-06:00

Spain acquired the Philippines hundreds of years ago to enhance their motherland's spice trade. This rule lasted until circa 1940's when the US military decided to take over and establish orderly democracy in an otherwise volatile area. Though autonomous from the US today, the Philippines still houses a culture completely unique to the rest of Asia. Traveling through the Philippines is a funny thing: They have the same (albeit corrupt) structured government system as the US, Filipinos drive on the right side of the road (opposite from nearly all of Asia), 85% of the population is Christian, English is widespread, and they even stand before each movie in the theater to say the Filipino Pledge of Allegiance... which I'll get back to in a minute.

Watching the landscape rattle and bounce out the window of a bus for 7 hours I found myself far north of Manila in a breezy mountainous town called Baguio. Soon I would realize my luck as I just so happened to land there during the biggest celebration weekend of the year, "Panagbenga," meaning flower festival. Panagbenga compares to Mardi Gras, riddled with fully decorated floats, marching bands, and hoards of revelers.

Can you imagine strolling into New Orleans the Friday of Mardi Gras weekend and trying to find a hotel room? No you can't.

Not understanding what I'd gotten myself into I spent Friday evening researching flights until 9pm, not even looking for a place, hah. Taking a Mongolian BBQ dinner break I sat, attempted to correct my internet-riddled vision, and looked up to find a smiling and somewhat curious looking westerner asking my name, where I was from, the usual, etc. I met Melissa and then Michelle who have each been working with missionaries in the Philippines for over a year. Their attitudes and motivations impress me. Living with local families and often giving even their spare time to love those in need, Melissa and Michelle (not to be confused) decided to help a homeless traveler. After taking me on grand tour of the fully-booked hotel scene Michelle introduced me to her local friend Giovanii around 1am who offered me a room, clean bed, and would later cook me breakfast free of charge.

Lifted by the generosity of the weekend I joined Michelle for her weekend visit to nearby RSCC Orphanage. Timid at first, I entered the nursery (children 2 and under) and immediately looked down to see Fred sticking his arms up at me. He just wanted to be held and I obliged. While playing with the kids for those few hours I learned some of their stories. One child was found wandering around in a graveyard, another was left for dead in a garbage bin. Some kids' parents live locally and can only afford to care for them part-time, having to leave them at the orphanage most of the time; I simply can't imagine. As Michelle put it, "The kids just want to be loved by somebody, anybody." They don't know what it means to be picky, to have options.

Saturday night I joined Melissa and Michelle to the cinema. In the Philippines you can take anything into the theater except a camera. We entered with an extra large pizza and some nachos. Upon sitting, I spread open the pizza box, divided up the pie, and dumped the nachos smack in the middle; It was like a coffee table across our laps. Being girls, the girls went to use the restroom before the movie leaving me sitting alone, propping the large buffet in front of me. The lights dimmed, people started to rise... OH NO! the National Anthem! Not knowing what to do I slowly stood up, carefully balancing our wide dinner. I couldn't possibly put my hand over my chest, so I just awkwardly stood there, embarrassed and sheepishly accepting strange looks from the locals. Yeah, I'm the tourist.

The 24 Hour Rule - The World

2008-02-28T03:17:00.002-06:00

Haggling is a way of life in Asia.

A few weeks prior to the Philippines I created what I call "The 24 Hour Rule," which provides that a traveler passively go with the flow during the first 24 hours in a new country in order to smoothly adjust to their new environment. This means I do not argue, persist, whine, protest, or haggle for an entire day. Unfortunately this does mean I will not get the best value for my money, instead I sit back to watch and adapt (so I can legitimately negotiate next time). After all, wrongly over-haggling with the first taxi driver over a measly dollar could upset him enough to deliver you to the wrong side of town; No thanks.

For Example

The 24 Hour Rule became important in the Philippines, a country I had previously decided to avoid after hearing 'unfavorable' reviews. My first taxi driver and hotel owner both told me repeatedly they would give me protection, protection, protection... Protection from what? I wondered enough to send Brittany my current address until further notice. Thinking conservatively, I called it an early night. The hotel owner's son escorted me the following morning to the bus station where I witnessed a phenomenon.

Upon handing the equivalent of about US$15 to the ticket handler (via 3 men in between) a magic show ensued. I sat back and eagerly watched my $10 in change vanish before my eyes as the 3 middlemen magicians seamlessly performed their work. Thanks to their masterful sleight of hand, I received only $2 in change. [Note that $8 means up to 2 days of a typical food budget in the Philippines.]

Normally in the wake of this offense I would disapprovingly stare down the tricksters and politely request the conclusion of my change, but I hadn't been in this place long enough to play alpha-tourist. So I cheerfully give them my money and hope they use it to feed their family. What's the alternative? I didn't know at the time and wasn't in the mood to experiment in a potentially volatile area (which I later learned is perfectly safe).

Basically, I am temporarily naive to the area at first so it's highly likely I'll get ripped off a few times. Letting it happen and partially enjoying it can at least set a more positive mood for the visit, worth far more than eight bucks in my opinion.

Think of it as payment for local orientation.

Diving - Pulau Sipadan, Borneo, Malaysia

2008-02-19T07:59:00.004-06:00

Imagine leaning back and tumbling into the azure abyss, then open your eyes as if entering a lucid dream to stare into the attention of hundreds upon hundreds of Barracudas eclipsing the sun and swimming in graceful symphony. You reluctantly turn away just to get your bearing and two archaic sea turtles swim together only ten feet away. I call it diver's nirvana and I reached it yesterday.

With a surgeon's confidence, my French dive instructor in the Gili Islands recommended diving Sipadan in the Malaysian region of Borneo. A few flights, one car ride with a creep, a boat taxi, a night's sleep in a stilted house over the shore of the island Mabul, then a quick dive-boat ride and VA-VOOM, I'm in a diver's paradise. My log book says I gained some perspective, seeing more underwater life than I could shake a stick at, including over 40 Sharks spanning 4 dives! Sipadan also set the low reference point during the third dive in which I became entranced by a cyclone of Barracuda as they lured me down to 34 meters (112 feet). I love diving!

Tomorrow it's off to the Philippines for about a week north of Manila trekking the volcanoes, so stay tuned.

Tim the Sex Tourist - Tawau to Semporna, Malaysia

2008-02-17T00:13:00.002-06:00

With a glint in his eye, one of Tim's first questions, "How were the chicks in Indonesia; did you see much prostitution?" seemed at first like normal traveler smalltalk. I flew across Malaysian Borneo this morning to a small town called Tawau on my way to catch a dive boat in a coastal town called Semporna where I'm currently waiting.

"Unfortunately" I told him as I grimly recollected, "some creep offered me a local girl's services while I waited for a bus in Kuta, Bali." Tim's body language didn't agree with the 'unfortunate' part.

Tim (I wish I had his last name and picture) came from Orange County, California to have sex with Asian women. Upon first glance you might think he was an architect or pharmaceutical rep in his mid to late 30's on extended vacation to get out of the office. Tim didn't look like a creep. He had the complexion of just an average, somewhat thin white guy. He came off as introverted (at first), intelligent, and had a knack for turning the conversation to sex, massages, and his liberating vasectomy. Sure I've heard about the booming sex tourism industry, but I've had enough luck to never meet it's target market.

For 1.5 hours Tim confided in me his organized destinations and intentions, taking phone breaks to coordinate with his exotic mistresses. He would go on to explain that girls in third world countries will sleep with westerners, "especially Americans" just for the faint chance of bagging a one-way ticket out of their life of poverty, crime, and disease. Basically, Tim uses his nationality to get laid. After hearing about the creep's lengthy trial and error pursuits of special massage parlors in Bangkok I exited the car sickened, disheartened, and somewhat angry. Not only is he further smiting his country's already damaged image to the rest of the world, people like Tim carelessly degrade and destroy the lives of women (and maybe boys) who had the unfortunate luck to be born into a vulnerable lifestyle of few options and little opportunity.

This is the saddest day of my trip.

SE Asia's Highest Summit - 13,436 feet - Malaysia

2008-02-16T23:37:00.003-06:00

Based in the town of Kota Kinabalu, I met up with a Finnish guy and planned three days of trekking in the Malaysian mountains on the mainland called Borneo in the Sabah region. Jouni and I warmed up with a day-walk east of Mt. Kinabalu on elevated canopy bridges, to a waterfall, bat caves, and around hot springs. We set out the next morning at 7:30am to ascend 4500 vertical feet along a staggeringly slow, steep, and at times rainy 3.75 mile path to base camp. The next morning arrived briskly at 2am and we set out for the summit.

Wearing board shorts and a long sleeve synthetic shirt I whisked up the remaining 2600 vertical feet along 1.7 miles of craggy path through the thin and frozen mountain breeze, at steeper times negotiating a fixed rope. My team successfully summited at 5:20am then proceeded to wait for the sunrise. Exposed to 360 degrees of bone-chilling wind, the summit manages to suck away any unprotected body heat. At this point I armed my upper body with a heavy fleece and goretex wind/rain jacket though my bare-skin legs would miss out on the comfort and later hold a grudge.

The sun never did rise, as funny as that sounds. Rain clouds blocked the 6am view and the fact that they were rain clouds alerted our guide that it was time to get DOWN. With a quick breakfast stop at base camp we spent the next 6.5 hours compacting our joints down a steep and river-esque trail as we abandoned the 7100 feet gained in the past day. Overall, summiting southeast Asia's rooftop was, for lack of better words, awesome.

Books and Burglars - Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia

2008-02-11T10:32:00.002-06:00

The big tourist destination of the day, the Petronas Towers, were the tallest buildings in the world until Taipei 101 was erected in 2004, and today was a special day because the high-end shopping mall connected to the towers houses a large bookstore loaded with mostly english print! Never have I felt so empowered by having access to nearly any book I desire. Add this to the list of things we Americans take for granted.

Walking to the towers turned out to be more of an adventure than I hoped as three young men jumped a man carrying a gaggle of shopping bags. The victim was about 15 feet in front of me when street thugs surrounded and cornered him into the shadow behind a wide column. Not knowing exactly what was happening in front of me I slowed until the situation registered, clamped my jaw, and instinctively exaggerated my chest. What could I do? What should I have done? A mid-day beating was occurring 8 feet away and a quick visualization dictated my action: I visualized a scene from a documentary about westerners in a prison in Quito in which two Ecuadorian women fight until one stabs the other in both eyes. I took stock of my day pack, turned around, and briskly walked the opposite direction.

Feb 19, 2008 Edit: [Had I intervened in the beating/potential stabbing, my 'best case' scenario would have likely entailed spending time with the corrupt Malaysian police; you can imagine the worst case and everything in between. Think about it, a Westerner involved in a violent incident (which possibly could have resulted in homicide). I would later hear of a fatal stabbing the following day at 5pm in the same neighborhood. Neither am I out to police foreign affairs, nor is it plausible for a solo traveler to play hero in this type of situation in this type of country.]

On a lighter note: Women here dress differently. Malaysia has a predominately Muslim population with some Hindu influence. It turns out that the dots worn on the foreheads of Hindi women outwardly indicates marital status. A red dot denotes married, while any other color means single and should be coordinated to match today's robe. Muslim women wear garments that cover most of their body, especially their hair. A bonus is that since Muslim women constitute the vast majority of restaurant employees I've noticed considerably less hair in my food compared to other countries.

The City State - Singapore

2008-02-09T05:30:00.001-06:00

Imagine Back to the Future had it been written in the 50's. Conservative mentality and efficient, futuristic lifestyle gives this destination a truly unique flavor. Baby strollers, obesity, and the smell of freshly cut grass were three things I had been without for the past few weeks, until Singapore. It's name meaning "The Lion City," Singapore is a tiny, affluent country of just over 4 million residents that looks like nothing more than a blip on the southern peninsula of Malaysia. I've always had an interest in visiting this city known for laws so conservative they're almost comical, unless you're breaking one of them. Eating a morning bagel or sipping from a bottle of water on the Mass Rail Transit fetches a fine of S$500 (about US$375), no exceptions. Riding your bike on a wide path under an overpass instead of walking it will leave you S$1000 poorer. Every motor vehicle has a box the size of a radar detector installed in which one must insert his or her ID card; and check me on this, but I think it collects driving and possibly locational data, like a nerdy big brother. The streets are clean, very clean, and I find myself wanting to take pictures of the few lonely pieces trash on the ground. Walking the streets feels safe, very safe, even second-hand cigarette smoke seems less threatening than before. Myriad video cameras record your movements, as I'm probably being monitored right now. An interesting peculiarity is Singaporeans' obsession with shopping, yes more than Americans. In some parts of town there are not sidewalks. Instead, shopping malls connect blocks together. No I'm not kidding. Possibly my favorite oddity is that the Mass Rail Transit passes are multi talented; They work not only at rail terminals but also at McDonalds! (so I hear)... though remember, you better not eat your McBurger on the train ride home.

Singapore has offered a great visitor's experience so far. Between the Asian Civilizations Museum, a boat ride down the Singapore River, cable car riding to Sentosa to experience the aquarium and interactive 3D movie theater, walking through China Town, and staying in Little India it's been quite an interesting couple of days. Tomorrow I leave for Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia to spend a day or two before flying eastward near Brunei to Malaysian Borneo region for hopeful trekking at over 4,000 meters and world-class diving.

Getting There - Bali to Singapore

2008-02-09T04:42:00.001-06:00

The journey from Bali to Singapore was not for the faint-hearted. My final day in Bali was ambitiously planned to say the least, and then it rained. My palms dampened as I nervously sat at the shipping center and read Bill Bryson's A Short History of Nearly Everything; I knew precious hours were dripping in front of me and I'd be screwed if I didn't coordinate my items to be shipped, go back to town for the ATM, pay the shipper, pay for the incredibly cheap house I was renting, return my motorbike to its owner and make it to the bus station in time for the last ride to the airport. Many of these events required driving 10-20 minute segments plus traffic. I was mostly concerned that I'd just made my biggest purchase, the cost of shipping a cubic meter container to the US, and the box would be sent nearly empty if sent at all. The rain ebbed to drizzle and the race was on.

Cutting it extremely close with only 5 minutes to spare and 13,000 Rupiah (about US$1.40) in my pocket I thought I was home free, and then I ran out of gas. Locals watched me push my motorbike furiously down the street as I carried all my bags in a last ditch effort to make my bus to the airport, then a local boy ran along side of me pointing to a glass jug filled with petrol. A tear of happiness fell as he quickly poured the gas through his cloth filter and took 10,000 Rupiah, leaving me with about 28 cents. I made it to the bus station as the door was closing and quickly convinced the ticket booth guy to watch my motorbike and call its owner. I would later make it to my flight, arrive in Singapore at 1am on the Chinese New Year, and sit at the information desk until 2:30am calling over 20 hotels that were booked solid; Did I mention it was the Chinese New Year? Finally success!... sort of. Another person had called for the same room but not showed up yet so I had to beat her to the hotel reception or the deal was off. To make things more interesting, neither mass transit nor shuttles operate from Singapore's airport at 2:30am so I enjoyed the comfort of an E-Class Mercedes to the tune of what I paid for 5 nights renting a private 2-story house with garden, balcony, and kitchen in Bali. I made it to the hotel first - it was worth it.

Monkeys and Masks - Ubud, Bali, Indonesia

2008-02-08T00:10:00.001-06:00

For those wondering, it's the city of Ubud on the island of Bali in the country of Indonesia, a country that incorporates over 13,000 islands! It's been a while since I have posted. After spending 8 nights in Ubud I feel more qualified to lay down a worthy entry. Bali is a peaceful land of religion, humility, culture, and scenery amongst other things. You feel an instant change in the air upon arrival; For those familiar it's that third world breeze, not always pleasant but more like the smell of birthday candles in that it conjures all sorts of sensory reflections of past experiences, good and bad.

To change things up a bit I slowed to the pace of life in Bali. I've never spent so much time in one location but Ubud and Bali deserved it. The people are what makes this place. Indonesia, the 4th most populous nation in the world, contains the largest Muslim population in the world with over 200 million dedicated followers (which is largely why there's a non-travel advisory by the US, IMO). Bali is the exception to the rule. Balinese people practice a very amicable local form of the Hindu religion, producing one of the most hospitable places on Earth. For example, Balinese people simply do not understand the word no. They will not deny you anything. Remember this, because if you are in Bali and ask for directions there will always be an answer regardless of whether it's accurate. Ask a Balinese person for directions to New York and he will confidently send you up the street, to the left, and three doors down. It's ridiculous.

Indonesia is the wood-carving capital of the world. For those who know me, I buy one symbolic mask each time I travel to a new country. Upon learning a little about the ever-so-interesting world of masks I learned that about half of the masks I had bought to represent countries in Latin America, Jamaica, etc. were actually made in Indonesia. This being said, I got somewhat excited when I got to Ubud. Long story short - I bought two 6' 6" giant masks carved in West Timor out of coconut tree trunk. They appear to be straight from Easter Island and are massive, tribal, and basically scary.

Monkeys are a key attraction in Ubud. The main road, Monkey Forest Rd, goes straight to... you guessed it, a generous plot in the middle of town with monkeys running around like dyslexic 1st graders at recess. I went, I saw, I scolded a monkey for stealing a little girl's Coke then sitting on her head to drink it, and by scolded I mean laughed. She had an Australian-good sense of humor about it.

Diving - Gili Islands, Indonesia

2008-01-26T05:07:00.001-06:00

The last few days have been touch-n-go movement and activity. I arrived on the island of Bali, Indonesia late on January 22, booked a luxury room for US$25 on the infamous Kuta Beach and decided to leave the beachster party scene far behind the next morning as I made my way towards the Gili Islands. After a only a few hours by bus, a stopover and snorkeling at the harbor town of Padangbai, and 4-5 hours on a boat I am here on Gili Trawangan.

Locals here define the term laid-back. Do what you want, pay when you want, and get some tea for free. My first morning here I made my way to a local dive shop called Big Bubble and made it on their first dive of the day leaving 15 minutes later. I dived three times that day including my first night dive seeing reef sharks, plenty of gigantic green sea turtles, schools of exotic fish, and the eerily dark night sea.

Now I am mapping out alternatives to spend the next weeks around Indonesia. My gut tells me to abandon what modernization I enjoy, shoot the moon, and head towards the Banda "Spice" Islands near Maluku (a travel segment that may entail almost 100 hours in a passenger boat, one-way). We shall see as Indonesia unfolds.

Turning Point - Sydney, Australia (Oz)

2008-01-19T19:20:00.001-06:00

The past weeks have been phenomenal. Traveling with Brittany is always a high-paced adventure starting early in the morning and ending when the sun goes down (around 10pm this time of year in S. New Zealand). More than is described on this blog, we have a history of tearing through countries from end-to-end trying to do, see, and eat everything. But now I'm traveling solo. Brittany had to go half-way back around the world to complete her last semester. We are tentatively planning to meet somewhere in India following her graduation, but the trip will take a change of pace until then.

I learned from one of my mom's cousins (who long ago migrated to Germany) that group size is indirectly proportionate to cultural experience on a trip. I wanted to organize a large group to work and live in Malta for a summer so we could have an authentic experience; my mom's cousin slightly cringed. When traveling in a large group one tends to mingle with the group, eat, drink, and explore with the group. Countries fade into backdrops as you and your cronies enjoy life as back at home just with different scenery. Brittany and I travel as a pair, which I think allows us pretty good cultural contact.

Traveling solo has been an important goal of mine for a while. Now I have to talk to people. Now I have to interact with locals. Now people are much more likely to approach me, invite me in their homes, talk to me about local politics, etc. Undoubtedly I prefer traveling with Brittany, but this is where the personal journey begins. I'm currently in Sydney staying in a 23 person dorm room called 'The Church' for its stained glass windows. You have to meet people when staying in that type of accomodation. The strange conversations have begun and things will only get wierder in two days when I fly to Indonesia.

Jetboat Funyak & Heli-Biking - Queenstown, NZ

2008-01-13T14:54:00.001-06:00

MOUNTAINS + EXPENSIVE TOYS = ADRENALINE!!!

Brittany and I splurged on everyone's widely acclaimed 'favorite guided activity' in all of New Zealand. Dion charged us down the Dart River in an 880 horsepower jetboat gliding over water as shallow as 4 inches and at speeds up to 60 mph. Jetboats were invented in New Zealand and are unique in that they don't have propellers or rudders or anything for that matter to confine the hull to deep water. We cruised about 50 kilometers up river in a valley used for much of Lord of the Rings before heading slightly back downriver. The group pumped up inflatable kayaks (brought up-river on another jet boat) and we made our way back down, stopping in a few carved-out side areas.

My real splurge was actually the day before. I left Brittany for the morning to take my first helicopter ride. The helicopter had a bike racks mounted on the sides, BRILLIANT!!

My 6 person group was lifted 1900 meters into the Remarkables mountain range just north of Queenstown. We applied body armour, made final adjustments on our full-suspension 8" travel downhill mountain bikes, and took to the exposed and windy ridge-trail. For those unfamiliar, these mountain bikes look more like motocross bikes with front shocks that extend from the front axel all the way up to the handle-bars. If you know my affinity for mountain-biking then you realize this was cloud 9 for me.

Hitchhiking - Franz Josef -> Queenstown, NZ

2008-01-07T21:49:00.000-06:00

We contemplated turning around.

Due to torrential downpour our full-day glacier hike in Franz Josef was cancelled. Commercial transportation options had either departed or were booked for the day, so we rainproofed our packs with garbage bags, marked on some cardboard scraps, and began a thumb-campaign as we hiked toward the next town 26 km south, Fox Glacier.

With about 20 km left to our next stop and a few hundred kilometers to our wet day's destination we started to feel a little run-down. Hundreds of drivers had passed. Our die-hard determination to move onward was unanswered until a small white Nissan slowed, pulled just in front of us, and popped the trunk... err 'the boot.' We stood in awe until a cheery looking middle-aged man rolled down the window and ask what we were waiting for.

Two 12 year-old twins gleamed through the rear window as we crammed our bags, then they politely made space for us to sit. The boys' father, Ralph, welcomed us to his warm and dry vehicle and proceeded to explain his cause. His boys, Morgan and Blaise, had just finished primary school in Sydney, Australia and their dear ole' dad congratulated them with an introduction to international travel [the right way, imo]. Their journey consisted of experiencing New Zealand from the perspective of a backpacker, so they slept in hostels, hiked the local trails, conversed with travelers from all over the world, and picked up hitchhikers... of course.

The five of us took turns laughing about our cultural differences and Brittany and I enjoyed great company on the 6-hour, breathtaking drive to Queenstown. At only twelve years in age, Blaise and Morgan have a leg-up as far as adventure travel. In case they ever read this, thanks again guys!

Tramping - Kaikoura and Nelson, NZ

2008-01-04T03:04:00.001-06:00

New Zealand is beautiful.

That being said, we took off from Christchurch after a single evening and landed on the northeast coast of Kaikoura. The town is known for its high level of marine activity so we ate scallop and mussel sandwiches for lunch; the true backpacker way to experience such a place.

We are currently on the northwest coast in Nelson and took off today for a day trip to Abel Tasman National Park where we sailed up the coast on a catamaran, picnicked, then hiked 12 km along a coastal ridge trail to our bus pickup. People continue to amaze us with warmth and friendliness; The food [lamb] is delectable, and there is so much to do.

Fiji -> Auckland -> Christchurch, NZ

2007-12-31T16:08:00.001-06:00

Brittany and I enjoyed a high speed catamaran ride to an uninhabited island in Fiji called South Sea. We snorkeled amongst a lively coral and puttered around with a few other tourists before heading back to the mainland for pizza and an early night of sleep.

Auckland is a green, bustling city with trendy habits. After getting turned away from most of the nicer bars for wearing jandals [Kiwi for sandals] we rang in the new year over rack of lamb, new zealand bubbly, and some stout homebrew.

Our flight departs this afternoon for Chrstchurch where we begin our 12-day magic bus hop-on-hop-off tour of the south island. Pictures still promised and more to come...

It Begins - Nadi, Fiji

2007-12-29T15:00:00.001-06:00

Saturday came briefly and disappeared as we quickly flew past the international date line. After a lucky first class ride across the US and 12 hours of Air New Zealand we are in Nadi eating breakfast [again] and planning our day. Brittany and I booked spots on a sailboat to visit one of Fiji's 100 uninhabited islands. We will snokel, have some authentic lunch, and probably get sunburned as hell (by the way, it's the dead of summer here). Fijians are extremely friendly so far as we have already interacted with about a dozen people before 9am local time.

I will post pictures later, but we only get 10 minutes free internet with our accomodation, so peace out until next time!

Getting Ready

2007-12-13T20:02:00.000-06:00

Brittany and I are buckling down and finally making some decisions. We've tentatively decided to take a day-long boat tour of the islands west of Nadi, Fiji. Also, we are set to spend New Year's Eve in Auckland before flying down to Christchurch and immediately catching a ride on the Magicbus network for a grand circuit around New Zealand's south island. More to come soon...