As Good As It Goetz

A Common Language

2008-08-18T00:22:00.003-05:00

As I began to put together the plan for my around-the-world adventure, one problem continually arose with nearly every country I selected for my itinerary. Namely that I spoke all of one language, which was typically not the primary language spoken just about everywhere I planned to go.

It's not that I haven't given learning another language a good shot over the years. But, each attempt has unfortunately been met with abject failure. Three years of German in high school served as an exercise in futility that netted the ability to say “hi”, “bye” and, inexplicably, “table” in that language. A year's worth of French in college had me semi-conversational for about half a summer, so long as you count conversational as being able to utter enough words and phrases to impress my non-French-speaking friends and family who couldn't understand what I was saying anyway.

Now, I'm lucky if I can discern between the two languages, let alone understand anything in either one of them. So, the prospects of trying to communicate in upwards of a dozen languages seemed a daunting task to say the least, not to mention a potentially insurmountable obstacle in my travels. After all, I only needed to be able to communicate to eat, find a place to sleep, and get from one place to the next.

So, in an effort to address the issue a bit prior to my departure, I downloaded a series of language guides to my iPod. I could regularly be seen – thankfully, not by anyone I know (I think) - in my car speaking back to my radio in various tongues. It became all I would listen to whenever I got into my car or went out roller blading. As the time to my departure neared, I even began to feel rather confident with my Spanish skills, the main language I studied.

But, as soon as I set foot in Peru, I was faced with the sad reality that no one sounded remotely like they guy from my language lessons. Almost instantly, I was reduced yet again to my monolingual self. My language test flight in Peru didn't bode well for the rest of my trip. But, it turned out that my concerns were largely unwarranted. Despite not being an official language of most of the countries I visited, English was prominently spoken just about everywhere I went.

While I've always understood that English is one of the most prolifically spoken languages in the world, I suppose I never quite grasped the scope of that fact until I saw it in person. It was eye-opening to see just how prominently English was used worldwide for a variety of purposes. The most obvious being locals using it to compete for tourist dollars. Despite a visitor's actual country of origin, English was primarily used to communicate with all foreigners. Storefronts, menus, and price tags were commonly displayed in the local language alongside an English translation.

But, it was among fellow travelers that I found the prominence of English to be most enlightening. Travelers from places that would normally have a language barrier between them, regularly used English as a lingual bridge of common understanding, even (perhaps especially) when English was not native to either party. I witnessed Spaniards speak with Brazilians in Australia, Chinese with Vietnamese in Thailand, Indians with Italians in Cambodia, and Dutch with Israelis in New Zealand. All using English as a common denominator. It was rather remarkable to see people from such diverse countries able to come together via a language other than their native tongue.

But, the proliferation of English as the world's common language has a downside as well. Mostly for someone like me for which it is their sole spoken language. While it's immensely comforting as a solo traveler to find a small piece of lingual comfort in unfamiliar places, it's seems ultimately detrimental in the long run. Mostly, because it provides a disincentive to attempt learning how to speak on locals' terms and fail to participate in what is a fundamental aspect of a specific place or culture. In a way the prevalence of English makes it too easy to get by on only a cursory knowledge of what's going on around you instead of making the effort to delve a little deeper into a country or people. While you likely won't miss out on any of the key attractions, you do miss out on gaining a better experience and understanding of a country, culture and people.

A reliance on only English is also restricting even when it is spoken prevalently by locals. Even with the simplest of transactions, I tended to find myself too often at a point in a conversation where a crucial word was mistranslated, misunderstood or unintentionally omitted (sometimes there is no similar word in English), which could change my entire understanding of that conversation, exclude a critical piece of information or just plain leave me confused. I also found that it forced me to trust, almost implicitly, what other people were telling me because of my own inability to understand or read what was plainly spoken or written around me.

Of course, when you're visiting some fourteen countries in a year's time, it's a bit much to expect anyone to be fluent at every stop. But, my experiences have left the impression that making an effort to learn even just one additional language can make a substantial difference, even when visiting countries where that particular language may not be spoken. Those that speak at least one other language seem to assimilate better to being in a foreign place, regardless of whether they speak the language there or not. They seem to be ever-so-slightly more comfortable with, and understanding of, a place than a mono-linguist like myself. They also seem to be more apt to grasp even a rudimentary understanding of other languages when necessary. Maybe it's just that a multilingual person has a greater comfort level because their chances of understanding what is going on around them are, at the very least, doubled.

Either way, it's certainly interesting to see how language can affect your experience when visiting a foreign land. Admittedly, the prevalence of English in my travels served mostly as a crutch that was a bit difficult to give up. But, the more I see people who speak in multiple tongues traveling with a greater sense of ease and comfort, the more I'm inclined to make a more concerted effort to learn at least one new language and see what new doors it might open up around the world. So, if you see me driving around Chicago talking gibberish back to my radio, don't be alarmed. I'm giving it another shot.

Dancing Badly

2008-07-10T14:33:00.003-05:00

Inspiration for travel can come from a variety of sources – magazines, books, movies, the internet, or simply hearing about somebody else's trip - each with equal ability to get the travel juices flowing. They can spark everything from a quick weekend getaway to a lifetime of globe-hopping. I know my motivation came from all those sources over the years and probably many more. But, sometimes inspiration can come from the most unlikely sources. Like a guy who dances badly.

Five years ago, a guy named Matt Harding (who I don't know personally) quit his job as a video game designer and decided to take a trip around the globe. Spurred by a friend's suggestion, he took short video clips of himself in each place doing a quirky, jerky dance that he used to do just for laughs. Upon his return, he cut the clips together into a short video, complete with backing music, that he sent to friends and family wanting to see highlights from his trip. Somewhere along the way, it went up on the internet and became a web sensation.

Shortly thereafter, he was approached by a new chewing gum company (Stride) who liked what they saw and wanted to pay for him to do it again, producing a second video along the way. It is this second video that I first saw about two years ago as I was in the midst of coordinating my own departure after a friend sent me the link. If a four minute video could ever sum up the joy of traveling, it has to be this one. Matt's new video became an instant hit and he was soon traveling the interview circuit talking about it. Both Matt and, luckily, Stride decided it would be a great idea to do it again.

Matt has just completed his third trip around the world and the subsequent video to accompany it. The difference this time around is that Matt invited anyone willing to come out and dance with him wherever he was visiting, including here in Chicago. It looks like he wasn't short on takers. While the second video ('06) in Matt's trilogy continues to be my favorite by the slimmest of margins, the latest entry remains downright inspirational for anyone who's ever dreamed about taking a trip somewhere whether for a day, a year, or a lifetime. If you aren't inspired to travel after watching any of Matt's videos than you might as well just restrict your excursions to your local mall.

Perhaps the best compliment I can give Matt's videos is to say: Why the hell didn't I think of that?

Check out Matt's videos below (have your volume on/up), but don't be surprised if you hit the web looking for a great deal to anywhere shortly thereafter.

Dancing 2008

Dancing 2006

Matt's Website: Where The Hell Is Matt?

Barker's Beauties

2008-07-07T15:26:00.004-05:00

Bob Barker would not be happy. The third world seems to have blatantly disregarded his sage show-ending plea to “help control the pet population by having your pets spade or neutered”. Bob would likely be horrified to see the enormous number of stray dogs wandering the streets of many of the cities and towns of the so-called third world I've visited. Then again, these canines hardly qualify as pets as they are obviously sans owners and actual homes. Not to mention that I’d bet good money that none has seen the inside of a veterinary clinic for shots or a bath, let alone more invasive procedures.

Not only is Bob's request being ignored, but it would seem that his worst nightmare is in the offing. The scruffy canines wandering the streets don't seem to restrict their copulation urges to their own species. I’ve seen more than a few peculiar looking dogs with suspiciously swine-like features that baffle the mind as to just how such a union might transpire, not that I care to ever linger upon that thought. Others, who seem to restrict their intimate experiences to their own species, are such an amalgam of uninhibited cross-breeding that it would take the folks at the Westminster Kennel Club decades to figure out the blood lines of just one of them.

Of course, all that unrestrained reproduction means that there are a significant number of mangy mutts freely roaming the streets, scavenging for every scrap of food they can get. I can barely walk fifty feet down a street in many of the third world cities I've visited without encountering a small pack of them poking around in every nook and cranny for the slightest morsel of food. Such occurrences typically send me scrambling into the nearest storefront or giving them at least a ten foot wide arc when passing by.

Still, that's not entirely fair to the dogs as they are simply attempting to make the best of a less than ideal situation. Their scruff appearance alone does not mean that they are disease-carrying hosts waiting to infest the nearest passerby. Although given the squalid conditions they are forced to live in, more than a few have likely succumbed to such a fate. My fears are likely steeped in equal parts overreaction and prudence.

Luckily, most don't really seem to be in the mood for food of the two-legged variety. If anything, they seem to give me as wide a berth when passing as I do them. But, despite getting poked and prodded for just about everything before I departed, I remain cautious. I have no desire to withstand a barrage of shots to the stomach – or elsewhere - should I encounter a dog that decides that my fleshy ankles might just be a good snack.

Unfortunately, the fate of such dogs seems to be tied to their human brethren. When most of the local human population struggles to feed – let alone house - themselves or their families on a daily basis, concern for care of the canine population likely doesn't rank very high on the societal priority list. Of course, the irony is that this also leaves the dogs to procreate unabated which only worsens the situation.

Perhaps if the financial tides of the third world turn for the better and a few generations find themselves able to provide for their families with some assured regularity, then the issue may begin to be able to be addressed. Until then, I expect that mangy mutts will continue to wander the streets fighting for every remnant they can find, making visitors such as myself a bit wary in the process, and thumbing their cold noses at Bob Barker in the process.

Virtual Breadcrumbs

2007-06-18T12:30:00.001-05:00

Where exactly is Kochin? Is Siem Reap in Cambodia or Thailand? What was that thing he hiked in New Zealand? Was it Amsterdam then Paris or vice versa?

The answers to all those (burning, I'm sure) questions are now easy to find thanks to the new map that I've finally been able to add to this blog.

It's taken a lot longer to add this feature than I would've liked (having it while I was still traveling regularly would've obviously been ideal). But, it still provides a nice snapshot of my journey of the last year which, of course, may be of interest to no one else but me at this point.

Still, if you want to check it out, just click on the new link added to the menu on the right side of this blog, appropriately titled 'Map' (or click here: Journey Map). Each destination I visited while circling the globe has it's own place marker. If you click on any place marker, a box will pop up indicating the destination as well as links to the blog entries associated with that destination (click on a link to go to the entry).

You can also zoom in/out of a region, country or area as desired. Lines connect each destination to roughly indicate the path I took as I traveled, although it lacks directional arrows so sometimes you'll just have to guess if I went to Bangkok, then Chiang Mai, then Ko Samui or the other way around.

My next project is to fill in the few blanks that remain for a few of those boxes (namely Barcelona, Rome, Florence, Bologna and Venice) with appropriate blog entries. Then, it's to start adding to the list of destinations, although that probably won't happen for a few more months.

Kryptonite Canyon

2007-05-20T19:39:00.001-05:00

Superman has Kryptonite. It seems I have the Grand Canyon.

Any time Superman comes within a few feet of the celestial green crystal it manages to wreak havoc on his otherwise superhuman body. Likewise, any time I come within a few hundred miles of the giant chasm’s earthly red rock, a similar havoc is wreaked on my far from superhuman body.

After returning stateside a few weeks ago, I decided to tempt fate by returning to the canyon lands of the Southwest in an attempt to finish the trip I started there twelve months prior before it was abruptly interrupted. After six months traversing the globe, setting foot on, in or near a multitude of earthly wonders, I thought there no better way to close out my adventures than by finishing my pilgrimage to perhaps the pinnacle of them all, the Grand Canyon.

Unfortunately, my latest attempt only served to further cement the big ditch as my personal nemesis. I made it as far as the cosmopolitan mecca of Omaha - for a Mother’s Day visit to see my Grandmother on the way west (you’d think I’d get some karma points for that) - when an almost forgotten, but instantly recognizable pain began to spread across my lower back. I held out hope that it would be a quickly passing storm, but once my nearly ninety-year-old Grandmother began to outpace me walking through the local JC Penney’s I knew ten days hiking through the remote deserts of Arizona & Utah was ill advised.

It’s the fourth such attempt to visit the Grand Canyon that’s been thwarted by equally bizarre circumstances in the last decade. While a fortnight later I’m once more reasonably agile, I’m not quite up for tempting fate a fifth time and exposing myself yet again to the ominously debilitating and discouraging powers of the Grand Canyon.

So my trip ends on a bit of a whimper, literally and figuratively, yet it’s near impossible to complain in light of the string of remarkable destinations that have not managed to elude me over the last year. Plus, I consider myself fortunate to be able to designate two weeks traveling through some of Italy’s greatest cities with my parents as my de facto grand finale.

But, finale may be the wrong choice of words. I prefer to call it just a pause. While I was lucky enough to return from my globe hopping sans any exotic diseases, I did come back with one incurable condition: chronic wanderlust.

Like an addict, I’m ready for my next fix immediately and am willing to go to significant lengths, and distances, to find it. Despite setting foot in a considerable number of countries on this trip, I recently determined that it only constitutes a mere 6% of the nations of the world. Such information only feeds my addiction, but how or when I’ll be able to seek out my next fix remains a looming, nagging question as I currently find myself at a unique crossroads: what to do next?

For the last year, my answer to that question would be to simply pick the next destination that caught my fancy and book a ticket to get me there as soon as possible. But, with an exhausted budget and a credit card balance creating its own layer of stratosphere, it seems that it’s not so simple this time (or is it?). Prudence suggests that it might be time to look at returning to the real world.

However, I think I left my pragmatism somewhere in New Zealand when prudence was also telling me it’s not so smart to leap from a perfectly good cliff into a deathly deep canyon attached to nothing more than an over sized rubber band.

After a year like I’ve been lucky enough to experience, my definition of the ‘real world’ has changed significantly, and continues to evolve, which adds layers of complexity to such a seemingly logical decision. Not to mention that there are a myriad of personal endeavors, business and otherwise, swimming around in my head that I’m wont to at least explore if not pursue earnestly before settling back into the real world.

Where I’ll be and what I’ll be doing in the next few days, weeks and months is anyone’s gues, least of all mine most of the time. But, I‘ve become pleasantly accustomed to that lifestyle over the last twelve months. One thing that is certain about my future is that I’m not quite done with this blog just yet - ever, if I‘m lucky. I still have excursions in Spain and Italy to chronicle as well as a few other topics that I couldn’t quite get around to while I was traveling. Plus, who knows what other adventures may lay in store to be recounted here at a future date.

Should I find a moment of clarity and come to a decision about my future, - whether employment, travel, or a mixture of both - I’ll likely record that here too. So keep watching for at least a little while longer. Just don’t expect to see a post about me curling my toes over the rim of the Grand Canyon any time soon.

Remarkable Rome

2007-04-30T18:00:00.000-05:00

I waited patiently inside the baggage claim area of Rome's international terminal for my new traveling companions to arrive. It was creeping up on a good sixty minutes since their flight's status had changed to “arrived” and that patience was beginning to be tinged with a little bit of worry. After all, these were more than just two new traveling companions. This was their first foray across international borders in more than twenty years and just the first intercontinental trip ever for one of them. As such, they were largely depending on me to serve as their de facto tour guide for the next two weeks as we visited a handful of Italy's most storied cities. That was a responsibility I didn't dare take lightly and it didn't look like things weren't getting off to a good start.

Not that they had anything to worry about. After all, I'd been to Italy before. Once. That trip was four years ago and the vast majority of it was spent a few hours north in Florence. We, however, were currently in Rome. I had visited Rome during that previous trip though. For all of six hours. It was also probably best that I didn't mention the incident the previous day when I'd managed to bungle the simple act of ordering a slice of pizza upon my own arrival in the city. To be fair, I had managed to make good use of my time in Rome four years prior, visiting a plethora of the city's best attractions during those scant few hours using just my curiosity and a borrowed guidebook. Plus, I'd almost committed my current guidebook to memory before arriving and had managed to get myself around a new city or two in the last seven months without major incident. If nothing else, the dozen or so words of Italian I'd managed to memorize were a dozen or so more than they knew.

So, when the doors from immigration swung open once more and I finally saw my parents' smiling faces bounding through it, that twinge of worry was replaced by one of relief that we'd at least managed to find each other at the airport. Together for the first time in over half a year, I was eager to show them a little of what I'd been doing for the last seven months. They were equally eager to get out and see Rome, but not before a quick nap after a long day of traveling.

After sleeping off a bit of jet lag, we set off for their first taste of Rome with what was left of the day as well as to see how well I could manage to guide them through one of the world's most celebrated cities. Luckily, Rome just might be the perfect place for a novice tour guide. Something of historical or architectural significance - or both - looms around nearly every corner. You generally just have to pick a direction, wander off and it looks like you knew what you were doing all along. Sometimes even getting lost is fortuitous as some of the most interesting places are hidden down side streets or narrow corridors. Most of all, Rome is a city that teems with life so it seems like something significant is going on just about everywhere.

I opted to start by taking my folks to two of my favorite spots in Rome betting that they'd be as fascinated with them as I was. I knew my instincts were correct when I saw my parents' faces light up with their first view of the immaculate Trevi Fountain. It's less a fountain than it is a work of art that happens to have water spouting from it. It almost seems to be hovering in the air with the statues suspended in animation, ready to return to action at any moment. Legend has it that if you throw a coin into the fountain you are assured a return visit to Rome one day. I can't recall doing that during my previous visit, but perhaps there's a caveat that still allows you to return so long as you bring a couple new people with you.

From Rome '07

I think my parents would've been content to hang around admiring the Trevi Fountain for hours, but the daylight was fading so we decided to walk a few blocks over to my other favorite spot, the Spanish Steps. While the steps certainly have an unmistakable aesthetic beauty, their charm might be tied just as much to the vibrant air surrounding them, given off by the multitudes of people bounding around them or taking in the panoramic views of Rome from the top. Either way, it makes for an invigorating, if not contagious, atmosphere that you can't help but enjoy and my parents (and me) were far from immune to that charm.

Once the sun set, we settled in to a local restaurant for a fantastic dinner (pizza, of course, at my parents' request), followed by a leisurely walk through the streets of Rome. Strolling through Rome's often cobbled streets is as much a part of the allure of Rome as any of the numerous historical monuments it holds. The streets come alive at night with jovial locals and tourists alike out enjoying a fine Italian meal, imbibing more than just the night air or simply enjoying the city's intoxicating atmosphere. We decided to sample some of it for ourselves by stopping in at the nearest gelato shop, a treat that instantly became my parents favorite Italian treat. As we consumed our creamy dessert with zeal, our meanderings took us by a host of historic sights like the Pantheon, The Roman Forum and the granddaddy of them all, the Colosseum. Standing in the shadows of the Colosseum illuminated against the night sky, we decided that there was no more perfect ending to a near-perfect first day in Rome. Eager to get a good start the next day, we reluctantly, but excitedly boarded a local bus back to our hotel.

The following morning, I figured it was best not to tinker with success, so we followed a similar template to the one employed on the previous day. Pick a direction, wander off, stare in awe at the myriad of sights and experiences we encountered, then repeat. That formula was implemented with equal success throughout our four day stay in Rome. We explored all of the city's greatest attractions including return visits to a few of the ones we saw on our first day (the area around the Pantheon being a favorite), this time seeing them in daylight and in greater depth. But, we found just wandering around the streets was as interesting as any of the attractions. Perhaps each enhanced the other. In that regard, the sights in effect came to us as we were never in a rush to get anywhere, content to simply ramble around and see what we could find. When we did find something of interest it made it even more extraordinary.

Somewhere along the way during those four days, I noticed that a change had quietly taken place. Much as they'd done for me on numerous occasions during the first decade or two of my life, I was now the one doing the leading as they took a turn being the ones to stare wide-eyed and gap-mouthed at all the incredible and exciting things surrounding them. Like eight-year-olds some fifty-five years removed, they were brimming with equal parts fascination, curiosity, and unbridled excitement. They were eager to see and do everything they could, eagerly anticipating what the next minute, hour or day might bring. And, much like those instances years ago, afternoon naps were required and if they were good, we'd stop for gelato.

ROME PHOTO ALBUM (click photo):

Rome '07

Catching The Late Show At The Vatican

2007-04-29T13:32:00.001-05:00

I had no more set foot into St. Peter's Square at the Vatican than I nearly bumped into the big man himself.

Nope, not the Pope. David Letterman.

Who knew that after six years of living within a few dozen miles of Big Dave's house (supposedly somewhere near Greenwich, CT) that it'd take a trip to Rome to bump into him. He was ambling up my direction a few yards away with what I think I can safely assume, having never seen them before, were his son Harry sitting on his shoulders and his longtime girlfriend at his side.

It was pretty cool (better than seeing the Pope for me) to see the man who's provided the entertainment to close out many of my nights over the last couple decades wandering around as a tourist just like I was. I actually think I'm a bigger fan now after seeing him strolling through St. Peter's Square sans entourage, special escort, or any sort of fanfare and headed to stand in the line for the basilica with the rest of the tourists.

I didn't take a picture, approach him or even nod my head his way in recognition (like he'd care anyway). Since he seemed to be enjoying some quality time with the family away from the throngs that could easily recognize him stateside (I don't know if the Late Show plays in Italy), it didn't seem appropriate.

My parents did manage to snap a quick picture from a distance, although I can't post it here as proof now that their camera is in the hands of some nefarious Roman thief. Returning my attention to checking out St. Peter's, I eventually lost him in the crowd as he wandered inside the basilica long before I did.

But, if you catch his show over the next couple of weeks and he works Italy into some of the show's bits, now you'll know why.

Traveling Light

2007-04-29T08:04:00.000-05:00

In six months of traveling around the globe I've miraculously managed to hop from country to country - taking some thirty odd flights, a half dozen trains and who knows how many cabs, tuk-tuks and motorbikes - without major incident. All despite hauling what currently passes for all my worldly possessions packed into one bag.

Not to mention throwing an assortment of items into various pockets as I wander through streets, airports, museums and other locales of each city. In all that time, nothing has been lost or stolen, although I've managed to damage a few items with my own klutziness.

My parents have been in Italy for all of two days, taking their first trip outside the U.S. in decades, in fact it's only the second ever for my Mother. In the last 48 hours, despite taking all the appropriate precautions, they've had their luggage lost by their airline (thankfully located and returned within 24 hours) and their digital camera stolen while on a bus traveling back to our hotel in Rome. Of course, only after sightseeing and taking a number of pictures of some of Rome's best sights.

I believe that's what they call irony....in any language.

Barcelona Recommendations

2007-04-28T18:13:00.001-05:00

Barcelona is a scintillating city with volumes to offer in a reasonably walkable space, although its excellent metro system can whisk you to all parts of town in a matter of minutes. The city is heavily influenced by art, cuisine and it’s location on the shores of the Mediterranean. It’s cosmopolitan without thinking too much of itself - or trying too hard - yet you can easily find great old world neighborhoods to wander through as much as new chic ones. Antoni Gaudi's innovative constructions – found throughout the city - are not to be missed, nor is the opportunity to laze the day away sitting in one of the city's numerous excellent restaurants and cafes.

I enjoyed the following during my stay in Barcelona:

La Ramblas - the city’s most famous thoroughfare runs from Plaza Catalunya (the main square) to the oceanfront. It’s full of restaurants, shops, hotels, street vendors and street performers which keep you entertained as you stroll along it. While it’s good, there is plenty more (and better) to see, so check it out then move on.
La Sagrada Familia - the ever-evolving masterpiece of Antoni Gaudi which is still only half complete some 125 years after it was begun. But, what exists today is stunning and absolutely mesmerizing. The unique design which seeps into even the smallest details is astounding and it’s difficult not to spend hours, if not days, admiring the genius of Gaudi even if (perhaps especially) you aren’t an artsy type.
Park Guell - another Gaudi design which cements his genius and more than anything just makes for one of the best parks you might ever wander around. Unique touches on walkways, park buildings, and the grounds themselves make it feel a little like Dr. Seuss meets Alice In Wonderland in the most excellent of ways.
La Barceloneta - the city’s oceanfront promenade which stretches from the old Olympic Village towards La Ramblas. I was there in early spring and there were a good number of people enjoying the walk along the Mediterranean, as well as the restaurants and stores, and I’m sure it must be ideal come summer.
La Ribera - a hidden gem of Barcelona right near the main tourist areas. It extends just beyond the slightly touristy Gothic neighborhood, but is home to more locals-oriented shops and restaurants. It’s labyrinthine network of narrow old world streets and walkways have plenty of character and make it one of the coolest areas in the city.
Arc de Triomf - Barcelona’s version of Paris’ more famous monument, but equally worthwhile. It sits at the end of a long promenade that stretches to the great Parc de la Ciutadella. There’s not much to do other than see it, but it’s worth the walk on the way to or from the park.
Parc de la Ciutadella - Barcelona’s great city park that’s also home to what is supposedly one of the better zoos in Europe (I didn’t go to the zoo). It has well-manicured gardens, but it isn’t so big that it would take hours to walk around it. It’s just the right size and a great place scenic diversion from the city life.
La Pedrera - probably Gaudi’s second most famous design, an apartment complex that seems to be melting with its sloping and twisting façade. The interior is now a museum which details Gaudi’s intriguing life as well as many of the other buildings he designed in the area. The attic is fascinating and the roof patio is unbelievable. Well worth the wait in the reasonable line for a ticket.
Casa Botlllo - one of the coolest of Gaudi’s architectural designs in the city (there are many). It’s the former residence of Gaudi’s client at the time and looks surreal from the exterior alone. The interior has only been open to the public for a few years, but promises even more amazing features inside although I ran out of time to check it out during my visit.
Montjuic - the city’s immense parklands that sit on a prominent and scenic hill to the south of the city center. It’s home to the Olympic Park, Botanical Gardens, an art museum, and a gondola that will take you to the top of the hill for great sights of the city. But, just walking around the grounds provides plenty of great scenery to make the quick trip from the city center worthwhile.
Passieg de Gracia - Barcelona’s version of 5^th avenue with high-end (and mid-level) brand stores lining the wide boulevard stretching from Plaza Catalunya to the western edge of the city. La Pedrera and Casa Botllo can be found about halfway up as well.
Wash ‘n Dry - located a few doors down from Gaudi’s Casa Guell on a side street about halfway down La Ramblas. Clean, quick self-wash launderette.

Tapas Tourism

2007-04-28T07:01:00.000-05:00

In the culinary world, tapas are the Spanish version of appetizers. Typically, tantalizing tastes meant to be enjoyed in small portions served prior to a full meal. But, just as often they are combined into an array of savory samplings serving as a meal unto themselves. My stay in Barcelona served as a bit of tapas tourism as it was clear from the outset that three days was not nearly enough time to fully consume all that the city had to offer. Instead, I opted to settle for small, satisfying bites of Barcelona's most succulent offerings.

If there was a chef for this tapas-style tour of Spain's second largest city, it would certainly be Antoni Gaudi. He is Barcelona's most celebrated son and world-renowned architect. I think he also just became my favorite architect. His imaginative architectural style is instantly recognizable for it's unique flourishes of twisted steel, swooping roofs, and bulging windows – among other things. His stunning structural creations are found throughout Barcelona proper, accenting this already vibrant city.

Gaudi's most impressive creation is also Barcelona's most recognizable landmark, La Sagrada Familia. It's a stunningly innovative take on the Gothic-style church, which also made for my first sampling of the city. The browned-stone facade seems to rise directly out of the ground, formed and molded directly from the earth below. Intricate details ooze out of every square inch, each stone having been twisted and shaped to play it's integral role as part of the larger whole. Those minute elements combine to form expansive, mesmerizing facades adorning the exteriors directly above each entrance. Rising over those facades are eight stunning spires that bring the structure to a towering crescendo far above the ground below. Adding to it's otherworldly appearance, the entire building seems to be slowly melting beneath the sun's decades-long glare.

From Barcelona '07

But, perhaps the most fascinating detail of La Sagrada Familia is the one you can't see. Some 125 years after construction began, the building remains just slightly more than half complete. Another ten (larger) spires, a third grand facade, and a significant portion of the interior have yet to be constructed. Given the level of detail already on display, I'd be inclined to say things might be a bit ahead of schedule. It's testament to Gaudi's phenomenal design that the building has already received world-renown and endless adulation in it's half-finished form. Thankfully, modern construction techniques have sped up completion which is now slated for 2026. It seems that my travel calendar has it's first entry for that year.

My next “taste” was a project of Gaudi's that actually was finished in his lifetime. On a hill on the north side of the city, he took a once barren landscape and developed one of the most imaginative parks ever conceived. If the imaginary world of a Dr. Suess book ever came to life, it would likely resemble something akin to Park Guell. In fact, I half expected to see a Lorax or Sneetch or even the Grinch himself as I walked through the exquisite grounds. The park is filled with mosaic-tiled dragons, gingerbread-style houses, sweeping colonnaded bridges, and a serpentine bench that winds itself completely around the park's grand terrace which provides an expansive view of the Barcelona skyline. Ingeniously, the architect still allowed nature to provide most of the wonderment, but framed it so uniquely that even a typically mundane bush or tree seems entirely re-imagined. The enticing blend of natural landscape and surreal man-made works was instantly my favorite place in the city and the one most likely to lure me back to the city one day.

But, walking through Park Guell wasn't the only memorable stroll I took in Barcelona. I often found myself returning to the tight, twisting streets of the Barri Gothic and La Ribera neighborhoods where I spent hours just letting myself get lost . To be completely honest, I wasn't always “letting” myself get lost. Both neighborhoods, once the epicenter of Barcelona, are some 3,000 years-old and their labyrinth of narrow streets often managed to spin me around enough that I just stopped trying to figure out where I was and explored whatever was around me instead. Walking their old cobbled streets, I encountered an array of store fronts, restaurants, bars and various other businesses seemingly hidden from the tourist throngs among the tightly packed homes and apartment buildings. Thankfully, each turn down a new street provided an enticing environment to explore, making me quickly lose interest in attempting to figure out how to return to those places I'd been previously.

My wanderings through the Barri Gothic and La Ribera neighborhoods provided additional enjoyment as each excursion seemed to spit me out in a new part of the city. One day it was the well-manicured Parc de la Ciutadella, Barcelona's version of a central park. The next it was La Barceloneta, one of the city's most popular beaches along the Mediterranean which was unsurprisingly sparse on a cool mid-March afternoon. Yet another day, it was La Ramblas, Barcelona's tourist-laden pedestrian thoroughfare that stretches from Plaza Catalunya, the city's de facto center, down to the Mediterranean shoreline.

However, as my time in Barcelona wound down, I only had time for one final sampling. For that, I returned to a familiar purveyor, Antoni Gaudi. Proving his genius yet again, Gaudi managed to re-imagine the notion of an apartment building with a captivating design both aesthetically and functionally. The building, La Pedrera, seems to be honeycombed out of a giant block of limestone, replete with his tell-tale flourishes such as swooping roof lines, twisted iron balconies, bowed windows and doors, and swirling chimney tops.

But, the genius may be even more in the concept than the aesthetic design. La Pedrera is one of the first self-contained apartment communities in the world as Gaudi sought to foster socialization through his design elements. Thus, the building features interior courtyards, communal rooftop patios, and interior-facing entrances and hallways, all meant to foster positive relationships among inhabitants. Having been an apartment dweller for most of my adult life, I was attracted to Gaudi's unique perspective on apartment life and secretly wished more modern day apartment complex architects would take their cue from La Pedrera's inventive design.

As is always the case with any good tapas experience, I found that my sampler platter of Barcelona was more extensive and fulfilling than I imagined at the outset. Each of the small “tastes” of the city provided unique and enjoyable experiences on their own, but it was the combination of those varied and extraordinary “tastes” that left me immensely satisfied with my brief stay. Perhaps more than anything, it served best to whet my appetite for a return visit to take a more substantial bite out of this remarkable city.

BARCELONA PHOTO ALBUM (click photo):

Barcelona '07

Paris Recommendations

2007-04-27T08:54:00.001-05:00

Paris is full of so many fantastic attractions that it might seem odd that this list is so short. But, it’s easy to get sidetracked at one or more of the attractions listed below. especially the Louvre, and lose track of time while your enjoying one of the city’s superb sights. But, even spending time at just a couple of the city’s excellent attractions is time well spent. Plus, leaving some for later provides ample incentive for a return trip.

Here’s what kept me busy in Paris:

Musee d’Louvre - if it’s not the biggest museum in the world, then it sure feels like it. The museum itself is a marvel with its collections spanning thousands of years of history from Egyptian, Greek, and Mesopotamian antiquities to the former apartment of Napoleon. You could spend a solid couple of days there if you want to absorb each gallery, but even a short stay takes a good couple of hours to briefly scan each area. The medieval Louvre section is a pretty cool area to visit as are the Egyptian antiquities. Of course, the museum’s centerpiece is the Mona Lisa which seems almost diminutive after wandering through the rest of the sizeable pieces on display, but still impressive. As much as it eats up much of a full day, the museum can’t be missed.
Eiffel Tower - the iconic tower is deserving of the prestige bestowed on it. Seeing it in person showcases the many design details that make it great, which often get lost in pictures or movies. But, heading up to the top is the best part with excellent views of the city - a great place to find yourself at sunset. The Champs de Mars, a park that leads out from the base of the tower, or the Trocadero Gardens, a series of stepped fountains leading out the opposite side from the Champs de Mars, are the best locations to check out and photograph the tower from the ground. Helpful Hint: to cut down the long waiting times (1.5-2 hours typically) to get to the top, opt for climbing the stairs to the 2nd floor balcony, it’s actually about ten stories up, instead of taking the elevator. The waiting time at the base is cut in half as is the price. Once at the 2nd floor, you can buy a ticket for the elevator to the top just like everyone who waited twice the time for the elevator to the 2nd floor - everyone takes an elevator to the top regardless of how you got to the 2nd floor. Not for those with health issues however.
Champs Elysees - the city’s most famous street which stretches from the Louvre to the Arc de Triomphe following the Seine at least half way. From the Louvre, it’s lined with incredible parks and a handful of massive old French buildings. About half way to the Arc de Triomphe, it becomes a retail thoroughfare lined with numerous brand name stores, restaurants and cafes that stay busy until late.
Arc de Triomphe - a classic Parisian attraction which serves as a bookend to one end of the Champs Elysees. It’s huge and impressive serving as a solid finale to a walk along the Champs Elysees from the Louvre.
Hotel de Ville - an incredible display of French architecture along the Seine fronted by a large plaza just north of the Notre Dame Cathedral.
Catedral de Notre Dame de Paris - the former home to Quasimodo and an impressively built church with flying buttresses in the back and a pair of imposing bell towers in the front. Intricate details adorn the façade and a trip inside reveals a huge vaulted ceiling and interesting design details.
Jardin du Luxembourg - one of Paris’ best parks with something for everyone from manicured gardens to children’s playgrounds, walking paths lined with rows of trees and an oval central park that sits in front of a former castle (Luxembourg castle). A great place to get away from the frenzy of the city and park yourself in one of the many free chairs that are provided by the city for just that purpose.
Seine Walking Paths - the river is lined with cement walking paths that are a perfect place to be on a sunny Sunday afternoon when the few roads that interrupt the walking paths are closed to automobile traffic.

Picturesque Paris

2007-04-27T08:25:00.003-05:00

The view from the top of the Eiffel Tower with the city of Paris unfurling below it for miles in every direction is, as you’d probably imagine, spectacular. Especially when the sun has just begun to set and the picturesque city begins to shimmer under the intensifying glow of white and yellow lights outlining it‘s shadows of streets, parks and buildings. It’s even better if you thought you just might miss the opportunity altogether, even after spending four days in the tower’s home city.

From Paris '07

It’s not that the Eiffel Tower was low on my priority list. On the contrary, it was at the top of the list, but I’d begin each day setting out to see some other Parisian attraction before heading over to the Eiffel Tower each afternoon. But, Paris is so choc full of fascinating attractions around literally almost every corner, that I would inevitably become sidetracked and end up at the base of the tower late in the evening, about two or three hours before it closed which is about how long it takes to get through the line to get a ticket and ride a series of elevators to the top.

Had I not made it to the top, I would’ve been disappointed, but certainly not dissatisfied with my stay in one of the world’s most celebrated cities. The Eiffel Tower is certainly the crowning glory of attractions in Paris, but it does not have a monopoly on the ability to be awe-inspiring. Half my time in Paris was spent walking around and bumping into amazing buildings, parks and monuments - each worthy of world acclaim on their own if they weren’t amongst so much heady competition in the French capital.

Actually, if I ranked my favorite Parisian attractions by time spent at them, the Louvre would easily earn the top spot. I wasn’t so sure that I wanted to spend time running around some pretentious building looking at other people’s old stuff (that’s essentially what museums are, right?). But, one look at just the exterior of the Louvre, with it’s massive 18th century place-turned-museum juxtaposed against the stylishly modern glass pyramid that pierces the middle of the outer courtyard covering the main entrance underground, and I realized I was in for some time spent indoors looking at, well, other people’s old stuff.

From Paris '07

Actually, it’s not the stuff that I found captivating, although it was impressive even for a guy who struggles to ‘get’ a lot of art, but it was the building itself in which it was all housed. It is as impressive a piece of immaculate French architecture as you might ever find, but it’s immensity is what impressed me most. My unscientific calculations estimated that it must cover at least twelve football fields (end to end as well as side to side) amongst it’s four floors, three or four wings and who knows how many galleries and halls.

Just my first hour inside was exhausting, most of which was just spent in one exhibit/gallery - the Egyptian antiquities. After the second hour, where I think I’d covered maybe an eighth of the galleries, my mind began to rebel against the sensory overload and things began to blur together.

I couldn’t tell the 17th century from the 7th, nor can I when I’m clear-headed I suppose. But, I do remember seeing a few important items - the Sarcophagus of Imhotep, the Code of Hammurabi, Napoleon’s former apartment - it’s an apartment in the same way the Titanic was just a boat - and the Venus de Milo. The self-guided audio tour I rented actually came in handy to help me understand what I was looking at and why it was so venerated through the ages. Some I agree with, some I don’t.

Of course, I saved the most famous piece for last, visiting the Mona Lisa before concluding my unexpected five hour stay in the Louvre. At least, I’m pretty sure it was the Mona Lisa because it could sometimes be difficult to see between the teems of fellow museum-goers, three (visible) security guards, a permanent railing keeping everyone at least five feet away and the plexiglas case covering it.

Perhaps it was the distance from which I was forced to see it, or the number of heads I had to look between, but it actually seemed much smaller than I envisioned. Art not necessarily being my strong point, I can say that it’s certainly an interesting piece of art, although I’m not quite ready to anoint it as the most amazing work I’ve ever seen.

After an afternoon being enthralled with just one of Paris’ numerous attractions, I wondered if everything else might be a bit of a let down. But, with Paris’ cavalcade of attractions that seems a near impossibility. So, my next day was spent strolling around Paris taking in a whirlwind of it’s best offerings from the Hotel de Ville to the Notre Dame Cathedral to the Sorbonne and Pantheon, as well as the superb Luxembourg Gardens, the best and most immaculate park in the city.

In the midst of all that, I wandered through some of Paris’ diverse neighborhoods from bohemian districts to upper class enclaves, each with their own unique mix of sidewalk cafes (a staple of the Parisian lifestyle), bistros, boutiques and apartment buildings.

I followed that up by strolling the city’s most famous street, the Champs-Elysees, from one of it’s bookends, the Louvre, to the other, the Arc de Triomphe. Near the Louvre, the Champs-Elysees is lined with immaculate parks and tree-lined walking paths as well as fascinating centuries-old historic buildings that look as good as if they’d been built today.

About halfway up, it trades in natural scenery for that of the commercial variety as the sidewalks become lined with a string of well-known retail shops and restaurants amid a sea of patrons wandering along it’s sidewalks. The Arc de Triomphe, featuring an impressive bit of construction in the middle of a traffic circle at a major crossroads, stands at the top of the boulevard keeping guard over it like an imposing guardian.

After three days being wowed by nearly every other attraction in Paris, I decided it was time to get to the top of the Eiffel Tower. Plus, I was running out of time. Still, a sunny Easter Sunday with 70 degree weather sidetracked me for part of the day, luring me down to the Seine which was swarming with Parisians taking a slow stroll down the concrete walkways that line the river as it cuts through the city.

Finally, I pulled myself away and headed to the Eiffel Tower to stand beneath it’s shadows for over two hours just to purchase a ticket. Before I got to the ticket booth, I thought my trip to the top was thwarted when the sign above the booth suddenly declared that the top was temporarily closed. Luckily, it was a short closure that was just an effort to clear the packed decks at the top so others, like myself, could enjoy it in comfort.

I’d intended to head up long before sunset, expecting that it would be mobbed at that time. But, my long wait and late arrival ended up having the opposite effect. It was packed, but not uncomfortably and it turned out to be the best way to see the tower as you might expect. If you’ve ever been to the top of the Empire State Building, Sears Tower, Petronas Towers, or any other towering structure around the world, then you’ll understand the allure of standing at the top of the Eiffel Tower in the middle of Paris.

Of course, if you’ve ever visited any of those places around sunrise or sunset, then you’ll also understand how much more extraordinary that time of day can make a visit to such a pinnacle. The Eiffel Tower was certainly no exception and I lingered at the top, as well as at the deceivingly named second floor - actually about ten stories up - longer than expected thanks to the fantastic views.

I expect that whatever order you see the Eiffel Tower, Louvre or any of Paris’ numerous other attractions is irrelevant. Saving the Eiffel Tower until last turned out to be the perfect finale to an ideal, if unplanned, itinerary for me. But, Paris is a city where the most well known attractions are simply the icing on a very rich and satisfying cake. Whatever slice you get and however you devour it as you wander around the city, you won’t be disappointed.

PARIS PHOTO ALBUM (click photo):

Paris '07

Amsterdam Recommendations

2007-04-26T03:38:00.002-05:00

Amsterdam is a fantastic city with as much variety packed into its compact boundaries as one might expect from one of the most progressive societies in the world. It has first-class museums with some of the world’s greatest works of art (Van Gogh, Rembrandt) as well as the inspiring former home of Anne Frank where she hid out with her family during World War II.

There’s also the infamous, but intriguing red light district and the host of coffee shops (i.e. smoke shops) that abound around the city. But, Amsterdam might be at it’s best just wandering around it’s ubiquitous canals and myriad of parks or just admiring the scenic city from a sidewalk seat at one of it’s plentiful cafes.

The following were my favorite parts of Amsterdam:

Anne Frank’s House/Museum - the museum is the actual house where Anne Frank and her family and a handful of others hid out for two years towards the end of World War II. Walking through the same rooms where the family sequestered themselves from the outside world is inspiring, yet a bit depressing knowing the ultimate fate of those who were in hiding. It’s a can’t miss museum for any visit to Amsterdam.
Van Gogh’s Museum - an interesting look at the artist’s chaotic, productive and fairly short life mostly through his own works. It’s also compact enough not to bore someone who struggles to grasp art’s intricacies, like myself.
Rembrandt House - another museum built into the house where the person lived. You can see the rooms where Rembrandt developed many of his works while he lived in Amsterdam.
Red Light District - actually a must-see for a visit to Amsterdam. It’s a slightly surreal atmosphere with almost more tour groups walking through to catch a glimpse of the out-in-the-open action than actual patrons. It’s hard to even call the area seedy as it resembles any other Amsterdam neighborhood, especially during the day, with a few surprises in the windows. It gives a whole new meaning to the term ‘window shopping’.
Prinsengracht Canal - the outermost of the main canals that encircle Amsterdam and also one of the most picturesque. A great place to walk or admire the upscale homes along the pleasant canal from one of the many corner cafes in the area.
Vondel Park - the city’s large main park with well manicured grounds and plenty of walking and biking trails along the ponds and park lands.
Sarphati Park - a great neighborhood park about five minutes walk from Prinsengracht canal and surrounded by a nice upscale neighborhood. The park is good sized with a small creek and pond winding through it. A lot of the neighbors walk their dogs there each afternoon or just relax in the sun with friends.
Aalborg Hotel - a nice budget hotel just outside the canals, but still well inside the city. It’s been renovated recently, has a friendly staff and prices were well in the budget area despite the upscale décor of the rooms, although the single rooms can be shoe boxes…but pleasant ones at that. It’s across the street from Sarphati Park, a couple blocks from a daily outdoor market and plenty of restaurants as well as next to a main tram stop that runs into the rest of the central city in 5-10 minutes.

Awesome Amsterdam

2007-04-26T03:36:00.001-05:00

When I was in Vietnam, I met a couple from Amsterdam and commented to them how surprised I was to encounter more Dutch travelers, by far, in my journeys than any other country. They didn’t seem that surprised by my observation and the husband attempted to explain the phenomenon by quoting his own philosophy on international travel. He explained, “The world is a big, interesting place. I’ll see my own country when I’m old.” He was about sixty-five.

If the rest of the Netherlands is anything like Amsterdam, however, then I actually might have to disagree with his logic. Amsterdam is a fantastic, world-class city right in his own back yard that seems to provide little impetus for leaving it. It didn’t take very long walking through the picturesque canaled streets of the Netherlands’s capital city to instantly anoint it as one of my favorite cities on the globe.

From Amsterdam '07

Amsterdam packs a lot into a rather compact space which makes it all that more alluring because everything is easily reachable on foot which was perfect for the three days I had to explore the city. Actually, biking is the preferred method of travel, rivaling the population of Hanoi for prevalence of two-wheeled transit.

That’s likely owed to the tight network of streets that can sometimes be too narrow or restricted to maneuver by car. It’s also likely owed to the fact that Amsterdam has one of the most relaxed atmosphere’s of any city I’ve visited. Rushing around in a frenzy doesn’t seem to be an option in the canal-laden city and a leisurely commute via bicycle is preferred which suited me just fine.

More than anything, I found Amsterdam to be incredibly comfortable. There is plenty to do and see with world class museums, attractive parks, scenic neighborhoods, and an ample assortment of cafes and restaurants. But, Amsterdam seems to invite you to just relax and enjoy it. I accepted that invitation while making sure to at see at least one or two of it’s quality attractions in the process.

Of course, a tour of the Heineken brewery museum might not really count as immersing myself in the cultural offerings of Amsterdam. Then again, the city embraces it’s foremost beer purveyor in much the same way St. Louis embraces Budweiser so perhaps I‘m exonerated. Plus, any 'museum’ that includes three free beers and a parting gift, all with the price of admission, is not one I’m inclined to pass up.

Obviously, beer isn’t the only mind-altering substance for which the city is famous. Coffee shops in Amsterdam offer up a menu far different from that you’ll find in Starbucks, which may be why I didn’t see a single Starbucks in Amsterdam. I think coffee is offered somewhere on the menu, but it’s not the most popular item. Marijuana is legal in Amsterdam and coffee shops are the place to buy and smoke it, although you can do both elsewhere.

With it’s open availability, however, people’s desire for pot - or it’s hash brethren - seems to be at a much more tame level than in places, like the U.S., where it’s illegal. It’s enjoyed in much the same manner as beer or wine is enjoyed in the U.S. Most of those partaking of coffee shop products seem to enjoy it in moderation, using it more in a social context than smoking themselves into a state where they lose control of themselves.

As with alcohol, I’m sure that happens from time to time, but seems to be an exception more than the rule. In that regard it’s done in a fairly sedate, unobtrusive manner - it’s not as rampant as you might believe - and the policy seems to work well within Amsterdam. Although, I’m sure the worldwide debate over whether it should continue and/or be adopted elsewhere will continue for decades.

Amsterdam’s other most notable legalized vice - that’d be prostitution -was perhaps even more intriguing to witness (not for the obvious reasons), if not much more difficult to determine whether it’s legalization was as equally an effective social policy. The red light district is actually a place that seems to draw you to it regardless of your feelings on the subject.

In fact, it feels very institutionalized, if that’s possible given the subject matter, and far from seedy. It resembles almost any other Amsterdam neighborhood just walking down it’s streets, but instead of purses, shoes, clothes or some other sort of material goods, the floor-to-ceiling glass doors and windows are filled with bikini clad girls of all shapes and sizes attempting to entice passers by to stop in and see what’s on offer. It gives the term window shopping a whole new meaning.

But, it almost reaches the point of parody, especially since most of the passers by are curious tourists - usually in large packs being taking on a walking tour through the area - who just want to see the it all for themselves as they giggle, gawk and peer at what’s going on all around them out in the open. It feels especially surreal when you find yourself among a large group of 70-year-olds who are blocking the street while watching an actual negotiation take place - not ‘transaction‘, that‘s done behind curtained doors.

Although I imagine it was far more uncomfortable for the man being watched by two dozen septuagenarians as he attempted to negotiate his ‘purchase’ and make his way inside as quickly as possible. Unfortunately for him, he exited almost as quickly as I saw him walking down the street no more then 5-10 minutes later.

Still, associating Amsterdam strictly with the goings-on of the red light district would be coloring the city in a very singular and unfair light, red or otherwise. It’s a very small section - not to mention one that can be easily avoided if desired - of a beautiful, dynamic city that actual looks surprisingly conservative despite it’s open approach toward social policies. Just wandering it’s picturesque streets, walking along it’s scenic canals, or lazing an afternoon away in one of it’s numerous parks or cafes provides ample enjoyment on any day as it did on each of the one‘s I spent there.

But, the city hasn’t always been so carefree and it’s memory of a not so distant turbulent past may be subconsciously what drive’s it’s considerably more tolerant present. It took a trip through one of the most inspiring, troubling and remarkable museums that I’ve had the privilege to visit to provide the small bit of insight into Amsterdam‘s societal structure.

The Anne Frank House museum is comprised of the actual home on the picturesque Prinsengracht canal in central Amsterdam where Anne, her family, and a handful of acquaintances sequestered themselves from the outside world. They remained there for two years during the latter stages of World War II when Holland fell under Nazi control.

While walking through the home’s many rooms and different floors, poignant excerpts of Anne Frank’s insightful and telling personal journals provide just the right perspective to understand the environment that the group lived in during that time. Artifacts from the family, the group of non-Jewish helpers that kept the family’s secret, and even a few pulled from Nazi archives are scattered throughout the rooms as well.

The block-out curtains that kept those passing by from being able to see inside - and discover the banished group of Jews in their midst - remain intact and you can take a peek out the window down to the street below just as Anne did when she was yearning for a taste of the outside world.

But, the most surreal experience was walking through the secret passage way hidden behind the still standing bookcase that led to the entrance to the rooms where the family and acquaintances managed to stay hidden away from friends, neighbors, and Nazis for over two years. The handful of rooms where the group lived, ate, slept and entertained each other seemed marginally adequate for a small family of four, let alone a group triple that number who never dared leave their self imposed isolation.

Anne’s ultimate outcome, and how close she came to escaping it, is all the more disheartening after taking a walk through what consisted of her entire world for the most famous portion of her short, but significant life. But, it’s ultimately inspiring to see, in the final portion of the museum dedicated to the impact of Anne’s book on the world, how her story and the realization of her dream of becoming a famous writer has affected millions of others who make their way to her former residence, read her beyond-her-years diary-as-book, or hear about her story in any other variety of ways.

It would even seem that perhaps she - and everyone else who was oppressed, ostracized, or killed in Amsterdam during World War II - played as significant, though unacknowledged, a part in shaping the current culture of Amsterdam - and the Netherlands - as anyone.

Thankfully Amsterdam has long recovered from it’s darker days some sixty years ago and done so in extraordinary fashion. In fact it’s on the short, but growing, list of cities on the planet where I could see myself spending a few years living and working. I wouldn’t be the least bit upset if a few years turned into a lifetime.

But, if I follow the example set by the many Dutch I’ve encountered in my journeys, then it would mean that I wouldn’t actually remain in Amsterdam all that often. I’d rather not wait “until I’m old” to take time to visit Amsterdam again, so instead I’ll just endeavor to become a frequent visitor. Plus, I suspect that there are more than a few apartments available to rent from a number of the city’s more elderly citizens who are still out exploring the rest of the world until they get old.

AMSTERDAM PHOTO ALBUM (click photo):

Amsterdam '07

Athens Recommendations

2007-04-14T09:36:00.001-05:00

Athens is an incredibly scenic and interesting city with volumes of history and incredible ruins peppered throughout the otherwise bustling, modern metropolis. It’s compact and easy to get around, yet without feeling small. Plenty of time can be spent just wandering it’s bevy of eclectic and attractive neighborhoods. Or, as the Greeks do more often than not, you can while away you day at one of the hundreds of characterful cafes that fill the sidewalks of Greece’s capital city.

The following are a few of the things that kept me occupied in Athens:

The Acropolis (The Pantheon) - the centerpiece of Athens and one of the most important monuments in western civilization. It's under renovation and probably will be for many more years, but still definitely worth a visit to check out the remarkable construction as well as the excellent views of the Athens metropolis.
Ancient Agora - an interesting and wide spread of ancient Greek ruins that were once a large market place, temples, churches and other buildings that sits just below the Acropolis' east face.
Temple of Olympian Zeus - just outside the Plaka neighborhood, a collection of a handful of impressive columns that once numbered 100. About ten or so still stand which are impressive enough and one that sits fallen on the ground shows how the columns were sectioned together.
Roman Stadium - the site of the first Olympics of the modern era in 1896, but built hundreds of years before by the Romans to host similar games featuring tests of strength and endurance for hundreds of years.
Syntagma Square - the heart of Athens formed by a large square surrounded by upmarket hotels, restaurants, shops and Greek Parliament . The roads to all the key sights and neighborhoods emanate from this square.
Plaka - the old part of Athen, which consisted of most of Athens up to a few decades ago, sitting at the base of the Acropolis with narrow, cobblestone streets and plenty of restaurants, cafes, shops, and bars as well as numerous Greek and Roman ruins scattered throughout the area.
Kolonaki - the modern, chic neighborhood of Athens with boutiques, cafes, and restaurants. Great for walking around and getting lunch or dinner.
Lykavittos Hill - the second largest hill around Athens and opposite of the Acropolis with great views of the Acropolis and central Athens from the top. You can walk to the top up a series of paths that ring the hill or take the funicular to the top.
Olivio’s - a great cafe-style restaurant with comfortable patio seating, good food and good service on the main plaza in the heart of Plaka.
Flocafe - Athens' answer to Starbucks, which is also in Athens, with multiple locations around the city and good, simple food as well as coffees, teas, and alcoholic drinks. Most locations are good places to hang out and people watch.
Plaka Laundrette - right off the main square in Plaka and good place to get laundry done well and quickly.

A Slight Misunderstanding

2007-04-14T08:00:00.001-05:00

A few days ago, I wrote a post about the pros and cons of English being the world's most spoken language and that sometimes being a crutch as you travel - assuming you speak English primarliy already, of course.

Today, I walked into a small market in the Plaka district of Athens and had an experience that seems to illustrate that point precisely. It was a simple errand, or so I thought. I was looking for a European plug adapter as the worldwide adapter I'd been using and finally given out. After searching fruitlessly myself for a few minutes, I approached a clerk to see if he could help me.

I'd almost come to depend, unknowingly, on the notion that nearly everywhere I went, most people spoke English. I'd become rather pleased with myself for taking the time to learn just a handful of key words and phrases that allowed me to initiate the conversation in a local's home language. Nevermind, that if they didn't then continue the conversation in English, I'd be lost entirely.

So, I traded a quick "Yasas" - hello in Greek - and proceeded to explain what I was looking for entirely in English. The perplexed look on the clerks face told me that he didn't speak a lick of English. I, of course, spoke no Greek, but found myself unprepared for such an occurrence, especially in a heavily touristed area. I hadn't actually taken the time to find out how to say 'electrical adapter' in Greek.

Instead, I proceeded to compound his confusion by committing a cardinal sin of international travel, which drives me nuts when I see others do it. I repeated my explanation, in English, only this time I spoke in a much louder tone and enunciated my words more succintly. As though the crisper words and higher decibel level might some how trigger a miraculous understanding of the English language by the Greek store clerk standing before me.

When that unsurprisingly didn't work, I inexplicably decided to employ a round of international charades in a last ditch effort to bridge our communication gap. I curled my hand, leaving my first two fingers pointing out, attempting to resemble the prongs on a electrical plug - an American one, of course! Then, I moved my hand back and forth in what certainly could be mistaken for nothing other than plugging something in to a socket.

The clerk's face suddenly lit up and he motioned for me to follow him down one of the narrow aisles. I was pleased that my little game of charades had made the difference. We turned down the small hardware aisle, and the clerk grabbed an item that made me instantly realize just how badly my attempts at communication had been.

The clerk smiled, as though he agreed that we'd managed to figure things out non-verbally, and handed me a kitchen knife. I wasn't entirely sure if he took my hand gestures to mean that I needed a knife to cut something or to shank someone, after all who cuts their food with two fingers sticking out?

But, I felt so bad about the miscommunication that I was ready to buy a knife that I would never need, just so that I wouldn't potentially offend the clerk. Luckily, the clerk became tied up with another customer and I quietly dropped the knife back in the bin and sheepishly scuttled out the door before he could take notice.

As I strode back toward my hostel, I promised myself that I'd take a little more time to try to learn the language of each country I visited, and at least learn the words for 'electrical adapter' in Greek before I set out again.

Cafe Society

2007-04-14T07:58:00.001-05:00

I’m not sure if it’s correct to designate a city with thousands of years of well documented, world-shaping history as up and coming, but that was certainly my impression of Athens. It seems like a city that’s just hitting its stride and putting on it’s best face for the world, or even just for itself. Or, perhaps it’s just reinventing itself for the umpteenth time in it’s storied history.

Part of my reason for labeling Greece’s capital as a city on the rise is that my guidebook warned that Athens has historically played second fiddle to other European hot spots with travelers due to a reputation for smog-filled air, horrendous traffic and trash-filled streets. But, I couldn’t reconcile that observation with my own experience.

I found Athens to be a fantastic city that with fairly clean streets, breathable air, a fantastic collection of eclectic neighborhoods, incredibly friendly people and an itinerary-filling collection of ancient ruins brimming with history. OK, the traffic wasn’t so great, that much is true. But, it’s a compact city, without feeling small, that’s easily walkable even though stations for it’s efficient metro system can be found around just about every corner.

In some ways, Athens reminded me of a slightly smaller version of Rome with ancient ruins dotted around a thriving modern metropolis brimming with life. It’s also a whole lot cheaper than Rome, and much of the rest of Europe, even though they share the same monetary system. The crowning glory, of course, is the ancient Acropolis which towers over the modern city.

After making the climb up the steep hill to the top, however, I was a bit disappointed to find the site in the midst of a decades long restoration project that had most of it covered in a lattice work of scaffolding and construction equipment plopped into the middle of the important ruins. The Pantheon, the centerpiece of the Acropolis, was a little difficult to fully appreciate with a massive crane sticking it’s head out of one end. But, it was still worthwhile to see it all and the views of Athens from atop the Acropolis were well worth the climb.

From Athens '07

But, perhaps the most enjoyable part of my time in Athens was simply walking around the streets of the various neighborhoods and taking in the life of local Athenians. The area directly beneath the Acropolis, Plaka, is full of tiny streets that twist and turn as they encircle the mountainous monument, rich in the city’s oldest history and sprinkled with various Greek and Roman ruins (the two parties basically captured and ruled each other for centuries with the Romans winning the bulking of the exchanges). It also felt like a prototypical old world European city with outdoor cafes everywhere and cobblestone streets that come to life in the afternoon and evening with locals and visitors alike seeking out food and entertainment.

A stone’s through from Plaka was my favorite neighborhood in Athens. The modern, energetic enclave of Kolonaki is replete with narrow, attractive streets lined with chic boutiques, swish apartments and condos, and hundreds of small cafes. In fact, life in Athens seems to center around cafes. Morning, noon and night, even the smallest or homeliest cafés would be packed with Greeks chatting away a good portion of the day over a cup of coffee and some sort of honey-based pastry.

Although I don’t drink coffee, I frequented the cafes for the social atmosphere and some of their other specialties - such as a warm Belgian waffle covered in sugary strawberry syrup adorned with vanilla bean ice cream - aka, my new favorite lunchtime snack. One afternoon I spent over an hour talking with a 50-ish Greek man about nearly any subject under the sun. He did a lot of the talking. The only reason the conversation ended was because I had to leave to pick up my laundry before the store closed.

My time spent at cafes showed me that Athens not only resembles Rome (I’m not so sure that Greeks or Italians will really appreciate my comparison as the competitiveness between them seems to endure centuries later) with it’s mix of modern and ancient buildings, but also in the fact that Greeks, like Italians, are passionate about just about everything. From politics to love to life and, especially, football (soccer).

Cafes are full throughout Athens because Greeks seem to value, above just about anything else, taking to time to enjoy life and aim to spend as much of it enjoying socializing with friends and family as possible. Plus, if the 2004 Olympics showed anything, it’s that Greeks can still roll up their sleeves and get things done when needed. Although, a trip out to the Olympic Park revealed that maybe their last minute approach gets the job done, but it doesn’t tend to wear very well down the line…even just three years removed.

Perhaps the best complement I can give about Athens is that I’m eager to come back to continue exploring this superb city - and the rest of Greece - so rich in history and brimming with modern life. Even in the chilly air of late March, the city was enticing. I’m sure visiting in the months after the thermometer heads a bit further north would find the city absolutely electric. But, spending time in Athens in any season is time well spent - even if it’s just to sit around at a café all day.

ATHENS PHOTO ALBUM (click photo):

Athens '07

European Lemonade

2007-04-13T10:42:00.002-05:00

Waiting until the last minute to make arrangements for each next leg of this trip has finally caught up with me. I arrived in Athens a few days ago planning to finalize my flights and hotels for a week exploring the treasure rich countries of Egypt and Jordan before meeting my parent’s in Rome in mid-April.

But, exorbitant airfares, thanks to may last minute approach, and complex travel requirements on the ground in those countries has forced me to opt for leaving them for another time. While a bit disappointed not to be able to wander among the treasure trove of antiquities to be found in Egypt and neighboring Jordan, I think I managed to figure out a suitable Plan B in fairly short order.

Trading in the pyramids, lost cities and immense deserts of Egypt & Jordan, I'll now make my way to see the monuments, museums and cafe-filled avenues of some of Europe's best cities. Leaving Athens tomorrow, I'll head to Amsterdam for three days to wander through the maze of canals and check out one of the continents more eccentric and open-minded cities.

From there, I'll make my way via high-speed train to Paris to spend a long weekend trying my best to take in as many of that city's renowned attractions as possible. Then it'll be on to the bustling city of Barcelona for a three-day siesta checking out the still evolving Gaudi masterpiece La Sagrada Familia and perhaps the famed Costa Brava.

I'll wrap up my Eurotrip with some family time, meeting my parents in Rome to spend two week's seeing Italy's finest cities with Florence, Bologna, and Venice to follow Rome. All in all, I can't complain about having to shift gears and replace Egypt & Jordan with a good chunk of Europe. As I always say, when life hands you lemons, make...wine, tapas and hash brownies!

Singapore Recommendations

2007-04-13T08:02:00.004-05:00

Spending less than twenty-four hours in Singapore certainly doesn’t make me an expert on the small city-state. But, I did stay long enough and explore far enough to get a pretty decent idea about Singapore, at least the central downtown area.

Singapore is incredibly clean, modern, well organized and easy to get around. It has a lot of interesting modern architecture, worthwhile museums and world-class shopping. The city and shopping areas are easily walkable which make it an easy place to explore in a short period of time, although it‘s also oppressively hot (good news: every building has powerful a/c). Other parts of the island are supposedly very nice and might be worth a side trip if you visit and have more time than I did.

Here are a few of the places and things I enjoyed during my brief stay in Singapore:

Asian Civilizations Museum - a very nice, informative, and interesting museum with great exhibits providing overviews and history on all the countries of Asia including China, Thailand, Cambodia, Vietnam, Singapore, Laos, and India. Definitely worth a trip, especially if you haven’t seen the rest of Asia yet, and maybe more so if you have.
Boat Quay - a picturesque small waterfront area along the Singapore River with a couple dozen waterfront restaurants with outdoor seating. I didn’t eat there, but it was a nice area to walk through and the restaurants looked very good.
Cavanaugh Bridge - one of a few bridges that cross the Singapore River, it’s probably the best because of it’s construction as well as it’s location. It’s not far from the Asian Civilizations Museum as well.
Esplanade Theaters - Singapore’s take on creating it’s own version of waterfront theaters like Sydney’s Opera House. The Esplanade Theaters look like two huge armadillo shells which actually looks better than it sounds. The best location I found to see them was from the Padang (see below). They are definitely worth checking out and aren’t far from Raffles City.
The Padang - A small but nice park that’s been around since the city was discovered by the British. It’s also home to Singapore’s Cricket Club and has good views of Raffles City and City Hall
Orchard Road - the pinnacle of international shopping in Southeast Asia. Orchard Street has anything you could want in nearly every store you could want. It stretches for a few miles with mall upon mall of stores. It’s also a nice, tree lined street with a number of restaurants.
Raffles Hotel - the original five star Singapore hotel. It remains very high end with an arcade of ultra-high end stores on its grounds. It looks like an old colonial hotel and is worth walking around, although pants are required for the lobby and most indoor areas.
MRT - Singapore’s subway systems is very clean, highly efficient and goes just about everywhere, including the airport.
Plaza Premium Lounge (airport) - Singapore’s airport is one of the best international airports I’ve visited and there is plenty to keep you entertained for any length layover. There are a boundless number of shops, restaurants and even a free movie theater showing recent (not first run, but within the last couple years at least) movies that are open to all. One of the better services available is a premium lounge that’s available to anyone. It’ costs about U.S. $15 for 5 hours of access which include a shower, food, soft drinks, and wireless or internet kiosk access. There’s a good size gym (workout clothes are provided for a fee) and massages or other treatments are available. You can purchase many of the services individually (i.e. shower) if you’re more pressed for time and only want a couple things.

A Clean Finish

2007-04-13T08:02:00.001-05:00

One of my notorious long layovers finally paid off. No twelve-hour stint in a bleak, lackluster airport this time around. In sharp contrast to the airports in Lima and Hanoi, Singapore’s airport was pure bliss. I’m not sure I’ve ever been so content to spend half a day in an airport in my life.

Singapore’s Changi airport is a large, modern facility that feels like a small city, replete with every type of store, restaurant and amenity you could possibly want to keep you occupied as hours effortlessly drift past. The airport even boasts it’s very own movie theater, free to all travelers, which shows a good selection of movies that at least came out in the last few years.

While the stores and restaurants provide plenty of distraction on their own, if you want to escape even further there’s a premium lounge that’s available to anyone for not much more than the price of lunch. I took advantage of that option and for all of fifteen dollars (U.S.) I had access to wireless internet, complimentary soft drinks and snacks, a comfortable and quiet seating area with an outdoor roof patio to watch the comings and goings of planes, and a refreshing shower which was one of the best I’ve taken in over two months.

As enticing as the airport was, however, the best part was that downtown Singapore was a mere twenty minute metro ride away and you don‘t need a visa to get in to the country. So, before settling in to the comfy environs of the premium lounge for the evening, I stowed my bags in a luggage locker and headed downtown to check out the small city that’s doubles as a country.

After months of traveling through the often gritty cities of the rest of Southeast Asia, Singapore was absolute heaven. It’s a conspicuously clean, well manicured, ultramodern and scenic city with a nice waterfront, plenty of parks and a just-built newness even though most buildings have been around for at least a couple of decades. The cleanliness and order does come at a slight price, however, as the citizens - and visitors - have to obey some strictly enforced rules. Examples include no chewing gum, no jay-walking and no eating or drinking on the metro train which all carry significant fines of $500-$1000 each that most Singaporeans can‘t afford to pay despite a higher standard of living than their regional neighbors.

While the strict adherence to the rules definitely helps present an idyllic city that seems more than comfortable to live in, it did remind me a little of those futuristic movies - such as Gattaca, Minority Report, and 1984 - where everything is spic and span yet personal liberties suffer a bit for that result. Still, cooperation versus oppression seemed more the order of the day between the government and the people.

As the country is one of the smallest on the planet, encompassing essentially the downtown area and a handful of outlying suburbs, the city proved to be one of the easiest to explore in a short time. But, that’s not to suggest that it was devoid of plenty to keep me busy. I spent a solid six hours exploring spotless Singapore which gave me a good sense of the city-state, but I still left behind plenty of unexplored areas that I couldn’t fit in to my visit.

Downtown Singapore is crowded, yet remaining orderly, with shiny steel skyscrapers that stop short of the Singapore River that runs through the heart of the city. Along the river are clusters of entertainment and dining areas which fill up the shores between the many artfully crafted bridges that cross the waterway. The stately looking buildings that house City Hall, Parliament and the Supreme Court provide a transition to the city’s retail sector full of shopping arcades and topnotch hotels.

From Singapore '07

The waterfront also features one of the city’s more distinctive landmarks, the Esplanade Theaters. They‘re reminiscent of the Sydney Opera House in that they are home to the city‘s performing arts center and reside on the edge of the water, shaped with a avant garde flair in the form of two bulbous pods that resemble metal whales with silver, armadillo-like skin. Due to the surrounding buildings and landscape, they don’t have quite the all-pervasive profile of Sydney’s Opera House so they seem to be much less well known, yet equally attractive.

Of course, walking around Singapore is no picnic, despite it’s cleanliness and order, thanks to the 90 degree heat and humidity that are constants for the area. I took refuge from the heat in the very modern and worthwhile Asian Civilizations Museum which turned out to be one of the better museums I’ve seen on this trip. Having just spent the last ten weeks discovering a good portion of Asia for myself, the museums own exhibits on each country and the specific sub-regions of the Asian continent provided a good way to recap many of the places I’d just seen.

Then there’s Orchard Road. If Singapore’s cleanliness and orderliness is my utopia, then Orchard Road would definitely be any shopper’s paradise. It’s mile after mile of shopping malls, boutique outlets, and restaurants with every internationally known brand and store you could possibly think of or want to see. It’s like 5th Avenue, the Magnificent Mile and Rodeo all packed into one spot then multiplied over and over. Even though I found myself on Orchard Road on a crowded Sunday afternoon, the wide, tree-lined streets and sidewalks make the area seem airy and comfortable in spite of the towering monuments to commerce surrounding them.

With my traveling bags already packed full, I restricted my explorations along Orchard road to be purely observational and not participatory. So, after the malls and shops began to blur together I hopped on the efficient and clean metro and headed back to the airport to settle in to the airport lounge. Then, seemingly just as quickly as I had arrived in Singapore, I boarded a plane to leave it, and the rest of the fascinating countries I visited in Asia over the last few months, to embark on my next continental adventure in Europe.

SINGAPORE PHOTO ALBUM (click photo):

Singapore '07

Cambodia Recommendations

2007-04-13T08:01:00.001-05:00

My stay in Cambodia only encompassed Siem Reap, where Angkor Wat is located, and at that only for three days. Still, I found Siem Reap to be a nice place to visit and three days seems just about right.

It’s a quaint little town that’s easy to get around with surprisingly good restaurants, good shops where you can buy local goods and a fair number of places for going out at night. There are a lot of good hotels too, although I happened to stay in a very average hostel which you might find below (i.e. not recommended).

Ultimately, however, it’s the temples of Angkor Wat that make a visit worthwhile and it’s a must for anyone slightly interested in Southeast Asia, Cambodia or one of the world’s most mythic and revered archaeological sites.

The following are a few places that made my short time in Siem Reap enjoyable:

Soup Dragon - a good restaurant on a corner on the main street of top flight restaurants featuring good quality local (Khmer) and Vietnamese cuisine, plus a good selection of sandwiches.
Viva! - offers a Tex-Mex menu that’s surprisingly good considering it seems very out of place in the middle of Cambodia. Friendly staff and nice outside tables on a corner.
Blue Pumpkin - excellent bakeshop/ice cream parlor that makes great bread, muffins and other baked goods. The ice cream’s pretty tasty too. They have a restaurant upstairs, but I didn’t eat there for dinner as I was generally content to sample the baked goods in the street level shop.
Angkor Wat - the centerpiece of the Khmer city that’s made up of multiple temple and palace sites around the area. It’s been well preserved and very interesting to wander through all the corridors, courtyards and temples to see how Angkor Wat was centuries ago.
Angkor Thom/Bayon - A good, though small, site of an old temple with interesting catacombs to wander around beneath the main structure.
Phreah Khan - decent sized and interesting for the numerous corridors that make up this site. It’s in various states of preservation and disrepair which makes wandering through it’s different twists and turns interesting because you never know what you’ll find in each direction.
Ta Phrom - the best site by far with massive trees & roots growing through the old temples and even on top in many cases. It gives you a great idea of what the other temples looked like when they were originally found. Something new, different and interesting around every corner of the temple grounds and you could spend hours exploring or just marveling at the unique combination of nature and temple. It’s also where parts of Tomb Raider (Angelina Jolie - Lara Croft) and the first Indiana Jones were filmed.

Ancient Playgrounds

2007-04-12T08:00:00.001-05:00

As a little kid, I could take a bunch of cardboard boxes into my backyard, construct myself a makeshift fort, and be completely content to spend the bulk of a day crawling around the maze of narrow passages I’d created imagining they were elaborate fortresses and majestic palaces. Some twenty-five years removed from cardboard fort construction, not to mention halfway around the world, I found myself an adult substitute to realize those childhood fantasies in the jungles of northern Cambodia.

A dozen centuries or so ago, the Khmer people constructed my adult playground in the form of hundreds of Angkor temples and palaces (I’m not so sure of the distinction between Khmer and Angkor, but it seems akin to being Dutch and from The Netherlands) spread out over a few hundred square miles in the northwestern corner of the country.

But, the myriad of vast complexes were nearly lost to the world after the Khmer civilization was overrun by invading Siamese armies and the area was subsequently abandoned for hundreds of years. In the ensuing centuries, most of the structures all but succumbed to the surrounding jungle which sought to devour the impressive edifices altogether.

Thankfully the ruins were rediscovered about 150 years ago and the treasures that lay beneath the thick layer of overgrowth were unearthed so that millions of visitors like myself could rekindle a piece of their distant youth (I’m sure that’s just what the Khmer civilization and current caretakers had in mind). Many of the structures remain in much the same shape as when they were (re)discovered, which is usually a mix of crumbling disarray amidst enduring examples of former grandeur still tenuously coexisting with the aggressive surrounding foliage.

While some are undergoing restoration efforts, virtually none are restricted from being able to climb on, in, or around them to your heart’s content. It’s the perfect otherworldly playground for a thirtysomething adult, trading cardboard fortresses for elaborately constructed ancient temples and palaces.

I started my ‘youthful’ explorations at the temple best known, at least by name, to the rest of the world - Angkor Wat. It’s by far the best restored structure and provides a glowing example of what the rest of the complexes must’ve looked like at the peak of the Khmer/Angkor dynasty. The sheer scale and elaborate, if not exacting, construction of each complex clearly shows the Khmer were highly intelligent and highly skilled.

Angkor Wat’s sizeable complex is surrounded by an equally sizeable moat that’s about a football field across and a few miles in diameter (it’s actually a rectangular moat, but you get the idea). The only access is a long, wide causeway leading to an imposing perimeter wall that parallels the moat all the way around the temple.

Even the perimeter wall is plenty interesting with the hundreds of columns supporting it, all carved (as are the numerous columns inside the complex) with intricate etchings of lotus flowers and Buddhist or Hindu gods. But, most impressive are the series of intertwined bas-relief carvings etched into the full length of the mile or so of perimeter wall. The elaborate etchings depict everything from the Khmer’s take on how the world began to recording their latest, of many, victories in battle.

From Siem Reap: An...

After passing through the entrance at the perimeter wall, another even longer causeway appeared, leading to the main temple complex. The temple’s telltale quintet of majestic spires, exquisitely carved to resemble budding lotus flowers, beckoned in the slowly shrinking distance.

I finally reached the main entrance which I proceeded through to find a maze of tall, dark hallways leading to a series of stone courtyards that housed ceremonial baths and secondary temples as well as, at one point, over one thousand Buddha statues although only a handful remain. Each turn down one of the hallways revealed a new set of passages that kept me captivated until I finally managed to pull myself away to seek out the central temple.

The central temple stands a good thirty feet nearly straight up from the stone courtyards with a precipitously perched flight of stairs providing the only access and requiring the use of all appendages in order to scale them safely. Harnessing a bit of childlike zeal, I scurried up the stairs only to come back down a similar set on another side just so I could scale up them once again.

Once my legs began to tell me that my burst of energy was coming to an end, I made my way into the small, peaceful central temple where I was rewarded with stunning views of not only the Angkor Wat complex, but far beyond it’s walls into the surrounding jungle and out to the horizon.

Tempted as I was to spend the rest of the day exploring the immense and impressive complex of Angkor Wat, the host of other sites in the area summoned me to move on. I ultimately explored a dozen or so of the various ruins in the area, although that is still a fraction of what’s available (it would take lifetimes to see them all). Each was as varied as they were interesting and any one on it’s own would’ve been well worth a visit to the area. But, the ruins that most captivated my attention was the one in the greatest state of disarray.

While Angkor Wat may be the best known complex by name, the jungle ravaged ruins of Ta Phrom are probably the best known images from the area. They remain pretty much in the same state in which they were discovered, with mammoth trees and their wild tangle of trunk-like roots asserting their dominance over, and on, much of the remaining complex. It provided the perfect environment to stir those memories of backyard fortresses with it’s eerie, but tantalizing, atmosphere and inviting surroundings.

For the better part of two hours I reverted to my eight-year-old self as I crawled in, around and over the compelling ruins which seemed purpose built for such endeavors. I explored the web of narrow, dank passageways that sometimes required me to crawl under or over fallen stone blocks that once served as a walls or part of a roof.

I climbed inside the trunks of the immense trees that could devour five people my size (or just a small Angkor temple) without issue. I scrambled over and under the massive roots that could easily pass for trees themselves and stared in awe at the tangled web of roots that entwined themselves with temple walls and roof lines. I all but donned a fedora and whip to do my best Indiana Jones impression as I explored the wondrous lost world of the Khmer/Angkor empire.

The setting sun finally signaled that my playtime had come to an end and like a kid who treasures recess more than learning multiplication tables (that‘d be me), I left wishing that I could have just one more chance to climb around the mysterious and captivating ruins.

But, I still managed to leave fully content at having enjoyed the many hours I did get to spend amidst the extraordinary constructs of the ancient Khmer dynasty. They were obviously, and thankfully, far beyond the simple cardboard fabrications of my youth, but proved to be equally adept - and more age appropriate - at capturing my imagination.

SIEM REAP: ANGKOR WAT PHOTO ALBUM (click photo):

Siem Reap: Angkor Wat '07

India Recommendations

2007-03-28T07:49:00.001-05:00

Any trip to India requires a lot of effort and not just because it takes some doing to make the halfway-around-the-world trip to the subcontinent. It requires full command of every one of your senses which will be inundated by a myriad of intense smells, images, sounds, sensations and emotions all vying incessantly for your immediate attention. It will leave you exhausted, enchanted, bewildered, and perhaps even inspired.

But, it’s ultimately worth the time, effort and sensory overload to see one of the most diverse, maddening, stimulating, frustrating, and vibrant countries on earth. Whether you ultimately end up leaving with a good opinion of the country or not is a question that can only be answered by each individual based on their own experiences andperceptions. But, one thing is for certain, it will be one of the most memorable trips you'll ever take.

The following are a few of the places and things that I enjoyed - and there are an equal amount that I didn't - during my travels in India:

MUMBAI (Bombay)

Mahatma Ghandi Museum - the actual house Ghandi lived from 1917-1934, which is now a small, but interesting museum that chronicles his entire life and not just the portion during which he lived there. Well worth the effort to find it on the quiet, little street where it's located.
Gateway of India - an imposing monument standing on the shores of Mumbai's bay. While it served to welcome thousands to British-ruled India after the Brits built it, it also served to usher the final battalion of British forces out when India won its independence.
Taj Mahal Palace & Tower - not the Taj Mahal (that’s closer to Delhi), but famous in its own right. Allegedly built by a wealthy Indian who was refused entry to the top Britons-only hotel at the time. He then built the Taj hotel to surpass that one in prestige, service and beauty. His hotel still stands and no one can remember the name of the other one. It's also worth checking out just for its opulence alone, plus the cafe overlooking the bay serves a tasty lunch.
Victoria Terminal - you have to look through the layer of dirt and soot, but the building is a remarkable example of British colonial architecture. Inside it's worth checking out the bustling station as Indians pack (like sticking out of windows and doors packed) the commuter trains heading to and from work.

KERALA

Backwaters (near Alleppey) - one of the best experiences and most scenic landscapes in all of India. A leisurely drift through the maze of linked waterways is as relaxing as it is fascinating to watch the small, quaint communities go about their daily business on the small strips of land that divide the waterways.
Munnar - India’s own version of Napa Valley or Tuscany, but with tea plantations instead of vineyards. Miles of picturesque tea plantations amid a pleasant mountain range and a series of quaint small towns that are all postcard perfect.

UDAIPUR

The Lake Palace - by far the best attraction in Udaipur, prominently positioned in the middle of Lake Pichola and lit up at night. Unfortunately, it’s an exclusive hotel that shuns non-resident visitors, but a reservation for dinner or drinks provides access to the grounds which are worth a look. Otherwise, it’s more than adequate just to admire from the Udaipur shoreline.
City Palace - a behemoth of a palace set right on the edge of Lake Pichola almost perpendicular to the Lake Palace. A tour of the interior reveals a maze of floors, hallways, rooms and courtyards that keeps it interesting. Plus, there are great views of the city from the higher levels of the palace.
Jagat Niwas Palace Hotel - a haveli (an opulent former residence of a wealthy merchant) that’s built like a mini-palace provides a Lake Palace-esque experience at a more reasonable price. It’s built right on the edge of the lake looking out toward the Lake Palace and the surrounding mountain range that makes it a perfect place for sunsets. Rooms are very reasonably priced and spacious. The restaurant is fantastic for it’s views alone, not to mention that the food’s good too.

JODHPUR

Meheranghar Fort - an unmissable landmark in Jodhpur, perched on the city’s highest hill. It’s a massive complex with a very interesting audio tour that’s well worth taking (it’s also included in the admission price). A good selection of artifacts from the fort’s working days as well a good views of the city and it’s famous blue-painted homes in the area nearby.
Umaid Bhawan Palace - not necessarily the most authentic of palaces in the historical sense as it was just built in the 1940s, but definitely a beautiful design. It's now a hotel, but I have no idea what the interior is like as it was closed to the public the week I was there for a few weddings.

JAISALMER

Jaisalmer Fort & Palace - the fort looks like it should be in a scene from India Jones, Lawrence of Arabia or The Arabian Nights. It's a living fort with over 3,000 people occupying residences inside which provides an interesting glimpse into what life must've been like there centuries earlier.

JAIPUR

Amber Fort/Palace - the palace is the main attraction as the fort sits much higher on the steep hill. The palace is undergoing much needed restoration, but most parts are in decent shape. Perhaps the most interesting aspect is the labyrinth of hallways and tunnels that connect parts of the palace that don't seem like they'd be connectable and also lead to hidden rooms and terraces.
City Palace - there’s not a whole lot to the palace grounds themselves, but it’s worth going inside to get a good view of the pink-colored walls that remain in immaculate form inside the palace courtyard (whereas they’re rather dingy in the surrounding city area).
Jas Vilas - a great value hotel in a good location with good sized rooms, great service, decent food and free wireless internet. Plus there’s a nice pool and it’s relatively quiet and cheap for what you get.

AGRA

Fatehpur Sikri - one of the best restored forts that I visited in India. Interesting architecture and history in that it was only occupied for 16 years - after it took 4 to build it. It’s well worth visiting even if you’ve grown tired of forts and palaces by the time you reach it.
Taj Mahal - arguably the major attraction in India and it lives up to all expectations. Sunrise is the best time to see it as it changes colors from beige to cream to sparkling white as the sun rises higher in the sky.

The Taj Mahal

2007-03-28T07:32:00.001-05:00

By the time we arrived in Agra, I’d had my fill of forts and palaces. It’s kind of like seeing churches in Europe, after a while it just becomes one indecipherable blur or steeples and altars. So, the prospect of waking up before the crack of dawn to catch the Taj Mahal bathed in the morning sun was not particularly enticing for me.

In fact, I balked at the idea when Jen first proposed it as we arrived in Agra the evening prior. Instead, I was intent on sleeping in, then making a very quick sweep through the Taj Mahal just to say I’d been there after which I’d retreat back to the hotel for, likely, more sleep. But, after a bit more rational consideration I eventually recanted, deciding that I couldn’t very well come all this way and not take advantage of the opportunity to see one of the world’s greatest monuments in its best light, literally.

So, at 6:00am, I found myself, with Jen & John, in front of the massive gate that marks the eastern entrance to the Taj Mahal. It’s actually a pretty sizeable complex featuring multiple immense entrance gates on three sides, a large manicured courtyard, and a small complex of outer residences.

Flanking each side of the Taj Mahal‘s main focal point is an impressive royal residence and an equally impressive mosque, both built in similar style looking almost like mirror images of each other. As we walked toward the entrance to the Taj Mahal, our guide began to explain the legend behind it which I managed to listen to despite my sleep deprivation.

From Agra (Taj Mah...

Shah Jahal was a powerful sultan, grandson of Akbar the Great, who had four wives as was custom at the time. But, it was his first that he loved by far the most. They’d met when Shah Jahal wandered into a local market at the age of twenty and asked an attractive young nineteen-year-old woman the price of one of her pieces for sale. Both instantly smitten with each other, she flirtingly replied that it cost 20,000 gold coins, an obviously exorbitant price for the item.

Shah Jahal instantly paid her with 20,000 gold coins beginning a quick, but powerful courtship that found them married shortly thereafter. She bore him fourteen children in twenty years, but died suddenly after the birth of the fourteenth child. Upon receiving word or her death, Shah Jahal, away in Persia at the time, raced home thousands of miles to mourn and bury his wife.

Devastated at losing his beloved wife, Shah Jahal decided to honor her by building a great monument for which she would be forever remembered by anyone who came upon it. He evidently designed the complex himself with his wife’s massive burial chamber as the centerpiece, built in glistening white marble while the rest of the complex was built in a regal red-washed stone.

The burial chamber, the best known image of the Taj Mahal, is decorated with intricate bas relief carvings, magnificent arches, and laden with numerous optical illusions to enhance it‘s grandeur (i.e. four turrets that bend slightly outward…or so it seems). After Shah Jahal’s own death, his body was laid to rest next to his first wife’s and both now lay entombed in the floor below the building.

Waking up at a ridiculously early hour instantly paid off as we walked through the imposing gate to catch our first glimpse of the Taj Mahal. The benefit of seeing the Taj Mahal as the sun begins to wake is that the sun plays tricks with the Taj’s façade of white marble. As the first rays began to peek over the horizon and through the surrounding trees, the Taj’s exterior took on a light brown color like coffee with a good dose of cream.

As the sun continued it’s march into the lightening sky, the walls ran through almost every shade of white, first emerging as a creamy beige then an almost white-yellow before sun’s full power blasted off the walls showing their true vibrant pure white color. Enhancing the vision was the dew still evaporating from the gardens, as well as the river that flows to the back of the Taj, giving it a mystic quality that I’ve found to be a regular trademark of many of the world’s best landmarks (i.e. Machu Picchu).

Yet, I think the true testament of the Taj Mahal’s ability to capture the world’s imagination for centuries is that each person’s experience is truly unique. As best as I can try to explain the Taj Mahal using my most inspired employment of the English language, it doesn’t hold a candle to actually being there and seeing it for yourself.

The Taj Mahal proved a fitting finale to my stay in India. Although it did little to help crystallize a lasting, singular opinion about the country. But at least I left with an image of India’s best floating in my head.

Ultimately, I continue to think that my view of India will constantly shift between admiration of it’s stunning and varied natural beauty as well as its friendly and hospitable populace countered by frustration at it‘s devastating poverty, pervasive inequalities and vexing inefficiency. Somewhere in that mix lies the true picture of a complex country dealing with complex issues as it seeks to cement it‘s place in the modern world.

But, I remind myself that India is still a young nation, it’s only been self-ruled for the last 60 years, and much of what frustrated me is likely just part of it’s growing pains as any young nation seems to have as it finds itself. So, instead I’ll do my best to concentrate on the powerful images of India’s remarkable landscapes and people that, as always, hold the best promise for a bright future.

I’m don't know if I'll be inclined to return to India any time soon, which should not be taken as a slight on the country. It's partly because it is such a draining experience which I’m not sure I’ll be quite prepared to undertake for at least another few years and because there’s still so much more of the world to see. Although somehow, I sense it will continue to have a pull on me.

I think it could be interesting to return in another decade or so to see how, or if, the country has progressed and how that heady mix of sometimes seemingly incompatible elements has transformed not only India, but my ever-changing opinion of it.

AGRA (TAJ MAHAL) PHOTO ALBUM (click photo):

Agra (Taj Mahal) '07

Organized Chaos

2007-03-28T07:31:00.005-05:00

Having made our way to the far western edges of Rajasthan - and India - we left Jaisalmer to head for the final J on our tour, Jaipur, some 500km the opposite direction on the far eastern edge of the state. The journey itself had the makings of a potentially nightmarish adventure as we opted to do it via a thirteen-hour overnight train ride. Having been a bit shocked by the condition of the trains we saw at the train station in Mumbai, we were prepared for a night of much less than desirable conditions devoid of sleep or comfort.

But, despite bathrooms that left a lot to be desired, our berth in the 2nd class sleeper car managed to provide a mostly comfortable and pretty tolerable environment where we were able to relax and even manage a few hours sleep during the long journey.

I initially found Jaipur, Rajasthan's capital city, to be deceivingly quiet, organized and fairly modern. The streets near our hotel were wide, well built, with traffic running in a near organized fashion, even managing to obey the numerous traffic signals with regularity. There were nice sidewalks, big parks and even a stretch of high-quality stores offering the latest western and India trends in fashion.

From Jaipur '07

Then we entered the walls of the old quarter, which was the original settlement of the capital city. It’s actually a well laid out old city with an organized grid of wide streets, market areas grouped by type of goods being offered (i.e. all spice merchants are in one place), and a perimeter wall with fixed entrances keeping traffic - then mostly of the foot and horse variety - flowing in orderly fashion. But, presently it provided the now-familiar scenes of organized chaos with jam packed markets, overcrowded sidewalks and streets that were a sea of rolling steel and exhaust.

At this point, however, I was starting to notice that the phrase ’organized chaos’ was starting to be a more fitting description that I first understood. Despite the abundant inefficiencies which even many Indians will acknowledge, the normal goings on of daily life operate in a semi-organized way that works for those who use it on a daily basis.

But, for most foreigners, it just makes our head spin because we not immersed in it on a regularly, where the intricacies that make it work become apparent and necessary to keep things moving. Although a couple hundred honking horns later, it seemed to return quickly to the migraine-inducing, sheer chaos that I’d begun to know and loathe so well.

From inside the walls of the old quarter, it was easy to see where Jaipur receives it’s ‘pink city’ nickname as the walls of every building, perimeter wall and entry gate are covered in a reddish-pink hue, actually a little more red than pink.

Evidently the walls are made of the same golden sandstone as found in Jaisalmer, but for the impending visit of Britain’s Prince Albert in the late 1800s, the citizenry painted them in their now familiar pink hue which is a color associated with traditional Indian hospitality. It takes the notion of rolling out the red carpet a bit literally.

Our tour of India’s trio of color-themed cities now complete, we prepared to move on again via car to our next stop, Agra, which would be my last in India. Jen & John will continue for another month or so exploring other parts of India. As we pulled out of Jaipur, I realized that our whirlwind tour did little to settle the ongoing debate in my head as to whether I was really enjoying India or not.

More often than not, I still struggled to see the beauty and charms of India without that image being colored by the garbage, inefficiencies, inequalities, and, more than anything, poverty that abounded at every stop. I tried in the last week to see the proverbial forest in spite of the trees, but a tree of negativity would inevitably pop up to remind me of the many issues that abound in India which continued to perplex me and color my view of the country.

I was beginning to come to one conclusion, however, which is that this portion of my trip was no vacation. Unlike most of the other stops on my global tour which combined relaxation with sight-seeing and a bit of cultural immersion, India demanded my full attention providing little time for rest or relaxation.

Far from a place to head for a leisurely holiday trip, India instead seemed to require that I pay attention and absorb everything first hand for the duration of my visit. But, because India intrudes so heavily on my personal space, it made sorting through all the various images, conversations and experiences extremely difficult in my effort to form a singular opinion.

In fact, I was beginning to be convinced that a singular opinion of India may not be possible. There are so many contradictions in India that once you form one opinion, something new comes along to punch a hole in it. However, I was now certain that, whether I love it or loathe it in the end, my stay in India would definitely be among the most memorable on my entire trip. It would also be one of the toughest to forget no matter how often I felt the urge to do just that.

JAIPUR PHOTO ALBUM (click photo):

Jaipur '07

The Golden City

2007-03-28T07:30:00.002-05:00

After our brief stay in Jodhpur, the following morning we woke early to meet our driver who would take us 200 or so kilometers (about 120 miles) west to the remote city outpost of Jaisalmer. Hiring a driver is fairly common practice in India and it’s a relatively inexpensive proposition with the added incentive of being able to control your own travel.

Given the other transportation options (overcrowded buses, consistently late running trains), we were happy to shell out the modest amount of money it cost to be driven around. It can still make for a hair raising journey, however, as driving in India is anything but a mundane experience, even in the more remote sections of road passing through the dusty Thar Desert in far western India.

Luckily, we made it safely to Jaisalmer a few hours later after passing through the area of desert where India startled the world a decade ago when it announced its nuclear capabilities by unleashing three of its newfound bombs under the desert floor we’d just traversed.

When we arrived in Jaisalmer, just 50 miles or so from the Pakistan border, we were reminded of the tensions that remain between the two countries. Just outside the city center is a sizeable Indian air force base that launches regular fighter jet sorties throughout the day and evening along the sensitive border that splits the constantly bickering countries.

Jaisalmer, outside of being a strategic military post, is almost more of a remote desert outpost than it is a city. It’s an oasis in the midst of an arid desert that, despite the prevalence of internet cafes, seems hardly impacted by progress and modernity. You’ll as soon see a camel, cow or donkey wandering through the streets as you will a car or motorbike. It’s kind of like walking into a bit of living history.

From Jaisalmer '07

The namesake fort for which Jaisalmer is best known likewise provides its own glimpse of living history. The fort is made out of golden-hued sandstone giving it the ’golden city’ moniker. The fort looks regal and imposing from its perch atop a mound of its very building blocks, sandstone, as though it was pulled out of an Indiana Jones movie.

Jaisalmer Fort is one of the few that still allows people to live inside it with over 3,000 inhabitants. Walking through the very narrow streets of the fort, you get a sense of what life must’ve been like inside this or any other fort/palace when they were the epicenter of the very civilizations they served to protect. But, that glimpse of history gets old quickly after the umpteenth tout hits you up to buy their postcards, clothing or foodstuffs from the small abodes that have now been turned into one big tourist trap inside the fortress’ ramparts.

As we were in the desert, Jaisalmer also provided one of the best opportunities for me to ride my first, and possibly only, camel. About twenty miles west of the city is a small set of sand dunes that’s a popular place from which to catch the sun setting over the open desert. When you first arrive, however, it’s almost impossible to see the dunes through the sea of touts trying to get you to ride their camels out to the nearby dunes.

A camel is not remotely necessary to get the few hundred yards out to the dunes, but it seemed like as good a place as any to give riding one a shot. Actually it was Jen, not one of the touts, that won me over by convincing me to ride tandem with her. It ultimately made for a short, but interesting experience mostly because I was never quite convinced that the irritable nature of our camel wouldn’t send it sprinting off and us tumbling down to the desert floor.

But, despite a few snorts, our camel managed to trod along safely over the ridges of the dunes, dropping us of at one of the few unoccupied dunes. There we sat for about an hour to take in a nice sunset in one of the most remote places I’ve ever managed to view one.

In an odd way, it made me understand the attraction of Jaisalmer to the people who live there; way out in the middle of the desert, just shy of a tension-filled border, and little else but desert for hundreds of miles. Perhaps it was that last part - little else for hundreds of miles, with fantastic sunsets on display nightly.

JAISALMER PHOTO ALBUM (click photo):

Jaisalmer '07

The Three J's

2007-03-28T07:28:00.006-05:00

You have to be careful as you try to make your way around the state of Rajasthan. One minor slip of the tongue and you could find yourself an hour from the Pakistan border when you meant to be hundreds of miles east closer to Rajasthan’s opposite border just outside Delhi.

We discovered that significance as we tried to make transport and hotel reservations to move on from scenic Udaipur. The issue that arises is that, outside of Udaipur, all the main cities in Rajasthan begin with the same letter of the alphabet - the letter ‘J’. To compound the issue, they all sound a bit similar, all feature forts and palaces as their main attractions, and are all tough to pronounce on their own let alone as a group.

Enter the ‘Three Js’, as they’re known to visitors, of Jodhpur (joe‘d-purr), Jaisalmer (j'eye-sal-murr) and Jaipur (j'eye-purr). Outside of the other main tourist route known as the ‘Golden Triangle’ - which includes Delhi, Agra (Taj Mahal) and Jaipur (it’s on both routes) - the ‘Three Js’ is one of the most popular tourist routes in all of India.

The three similarly nomenclatured cities are evenly spaced out on a horizontal line splitting down the middle of the flat, arid desert landscape of Rajasthan. Jaisalmer stands to the far west with Jaipur to the far east,and Jodhpur about halfway between both and a tad bit south.

Pronunciations and locations fairly well figured out, after some practice, we managed to get our hotels and transportation details squared away on the right dates for the right cities which was rather important as we were about to embark on a whirlwind tour of this area of India. In eight days we would cover four cities (Agra, home of the Taj Mahal, in the neighboring state of Uttar Pradesh would be the fourth and final stop) and over 600 miles via plane, train, car and camel.

Driving us to undertake such a speedy schedule, aside from my fixed departure date from India, was the promise of quintessential India with authentic Indian towns, age-old forts and palaces and kilometer after kilometer of scorching desert where temperatures often top out at 120F. OK, maybe the last one wasn’t as much a draw as it was a necessity to traverse en route to each city.

Helping us keep straight where we might find ourselves day to day was the convenient color coding of each city. Jodhpur, our first stop, is known as the ’blue city’, while Jaisalmer, next on the agenda, is the ’golden city’, and Jaipur is designated the ‘pink city’. Each of those names refers to the color of the walls of homes, forts or palaces for which the particular city has become well known over the years.

We started off swiftly out of the gate with a quick forty-five minute flight from Udaipur to Jodhpur. As we arrived in the evening, our stay would be particularly short, leaving us just the next day to explore Jodhpur’s impressive Meheranghar Fort and Umaid Bhawan Palace. I, of course, hindered our start the next morning as I remain averse to rising early in the morning.

But, we started out late morning still with ample time to cover those main attractions. Meheranghar Fort, as one might expect, sits on a high bluff overlooking the city. It takes chugging tuk-tuk ride up a long, winding road to get there, but your rewarded with spectacular views of the city almost upon arrival.

From Jodhpur '07

The walk into the fort is via a series of winding approaches done so purposely so as to thwart the use of elephants used to attack the fortress by opposing armies. The right angles at which the entrance roads twist and turn would force the charging enemy elephants to lose all momentum thus almost ensuring that the barricaded fort entry doors could resist a rival army’s advance.

Inside the fort, sans accompaniment of a pachyderm, we found a tightly packed palace that uses almost as much vertical space as horizontal - an atypical feature from other forts/palaces we’d found thus far. The entry fee comes with a free audio tour, that while seeming dorky initially, turned out to be one of the most informative ways to view the palace. Inside are a museum-like collection of displays of weaponry, paintings, palanquins - the seats kings/queens would sit on as they were carried through the streets - and other exhibits, as well as the standard tour of royal receiving rooms, dining rooms and bedrooms.

From high atop the palace balconies, the collection of buildings that give Jodhpur it’s color-themed nickname stuck out from the city below. A substantial section of the city’s homes surrounding the fort/palace are painted in a blueish tint that‘s used to keep homes naturally cool as well as, supposedly, repel insects and bugs.

The actual color is actually a little more on the purple side as it’s indigo, for the soothing effects mentioned above, that was added to the normal whitewash that usually covered homes a few centuries ago. Whatever good the chosen color does for the home dwellers, it nonetheless makes for a cool look and a great picture.

Our second, and final, main stop in Jodhpur was to the Umaid Bhawan Palace. This stop was on the itinerary maybe more due to recent events than for historical reasons. The lack of historical importance is due to the relative youth of the palace itself which was the last palace built in India, completed in 1944. It’s a beautiful design, but has no other historical significance and has since been turned into a hotel.

That’s where the current events lure comes into play. It’s the place where Elizabeth Hurley was married just a few days before we arrived in Jodhpur. Unfortunately, due to her evidently all-encompassing wedding, as well as one planned for the next day by a wealthy Indian couple, the hotel was closed to the public. Thus, we were left, begrudgingly, only to wander through the ho-hum attached museum and were only able to admire the palace’s exterior beauty.

While our visit to the Umaid Bhawan Palace was disappointing, our stay in the blue city was not. Though our stay in Jodhpur was relatively short, the Meheranghar Fort made it worth the stop and whet our appetite to see what the other J's had in store for us.

JODHPUR PHOTO ALBUM (click photo):

Jodhpur '07

Lakefront Property

2007-03-27T07:24:00.001-05:00

If you’re going to be bold enough to build yourself a palace in the middle of a lake, you’d better make sure it ends up being damned impressive so as to be able to withstand the scrutiny and attention it will inevitably receive from it’s hard to ignore location. Indeed that’s what Jagat Singh, the mid-1600s Rajput maharana (king) at the time, accomplished rather spectacularly with Jag Niwas - better known today as the Lake Palace. While the impressive palace is definitely a remarkable man-made spectacle, it’s almost upstaged, however, by the incredible natural landscape of scrub-covered desert mountains and scenic lakes that surround it. All this serves to make Udaipur (ooh-die-purr) one of the most picturesque places in all of India.

From Udaipur '07

The city of Udaipur lies deep in the southern section of the state of Rajasthan which encompasses a massive, desert landmass about the size of Texas covering most of the northwestern quarter of India. It’s an area still proudly entrenched in rich traditions stemming from its fascinatingly complex history that’s full of epic struggles between Rajput kings, Muslim sultans and Moghul princes. As proof of Udaipur’s role in the area’s varied history, the city boasts no less than four palaces and a handful of temples all mostly within a stone’s throw of each other.

The city, and it’s assorted palaces and temples, lies between a low lying gap between the surrounding Aravalli mountains. It was built alongside three laterally aligned lakes, each connected by short canals, that run along the city’s western edge. Lake Pichola, home to the Lake Palace (and a second, less impressive lake palace called Jag Mandir), is the centerpiece of the trio of waterways. The city’s original settlement, now the old quarter, snuggles up against the eastern shore of Lake Pichola with views from either the city or the lake providing equally memorable views.

I tended to favor the views from the city over those from the lake for the simple, but important, reason that they also provided the best vantage point from which to take in the some excellent sun sets. Luckily, our hotel actually provided one of the best spots from which to take in the scene of the sun setting over the western mountains with Lake Pichola and the Lake Palace in the foreground. In our three nights in Udaipur, that sight never got old.

Partly due to it’s unique position for sun set viewing, our hotel turned out to be a bit of an attraction in itself. It inhabits what’s called a haveli which is essentially the former estate of a wealthy merchant built around the same time as the various maharana palaces. Many havelis are built like mini-palaces and our hotel was no exception. Rooms featured marble floors, arched doorways, and stained glass windows. A central courtyard served as the structure’s centerpiece while a network of zigzagging staircases provided a sometimes Mario Brothers like escapade to get from one floor or section to another. The best feature, of course, was the top floor restaurant with it’s open air, lake facing views from a series of cozy bay window nooks where we often sat absorbing the magnificent views while slowing picking through our meal so as to extend our viewing pleasure as long as possible despite the tasty cuisine.

Despite it’s ideal vantage point, our hotel remained eclipsed by one other, the Lake Palace itself. The palace has long been converted into a five-star hotel which is touted around Udaipur for having been the setting for one of the scenes in mid-1980s James Bond film Octopussy. Unfortunately, the palace’s privatization means that most tourists and locals are left only to admire from afar as there are no tours allowed of the property. But, you can get around that if you are willing to shell out a little money either as a paying guest - for about $500 a night to start- or by making a reservation for lunch or dinner at one of the hotel’s two restaurants which is a little less draining on the savings account.

We did just that, indulging in a first class dinner at the hotel one evening, preceded by a fairly informative boat tour around the lake. To get to the hotel, you arrive at a check in desk city-side then take a gondola-like boat across the lake to the hotel/palace. There, you’re given the royal treatment with welcome drinks of the non-alcoholic variety, a flowered lei and multiple rounds of ‘welcome’ and ‘hello’ by the hotel staff. The hotel grounds definitely live up to their five-star status although not so much so that you’d be disappointed if you only got to see the palace from the city instead of from the inside. Before dinner, and after our lake tour, we were treated to a captivating performance of traditional Indian dance in the hotel’s courtyard before sitting down to a sumptuous dinner that, despite being authentically Indian, managed to agree with my stomach a bit better than anything else so far.

During the daylight hours we managed to pull ourselves away from the mesmerizing lake and palace views to explore a bit more of Udaipur. The city is home to some 800,000 inhabitants although its low, sprawling layout feels more like around a less imposing 100,000. The centerpiece (figuratively, not literally) of the city is the suitably named City Palace. It’s a towering structure that sits on the shores of Lake Pichola directly across from the Lake Palace. It’s interior is a dizzying collection of narrow passageways, royal rooms, and courtyards built largely using marble and granite with stained glass adorning most windows. It also provides excellent views of the surrounding city and mountainside.

The city itself has an old world feel to it, at least the portion we managed to explore in our short stay in Udaipur. Most of our forays into the city were restricted to the old quarter simply by virtue of our hotel being located there. But, it also seemed to be the most interesting area, connected by narrow, winding streets that barely fit one car - or a cow and two motorbikes….or three cows and two people…or a cow, a motorbike and a tuk-tuk….you get the picture. Merchant storefronts line the narrow streets which, although they’ve long since converted from selling local goods to hawking tourist trinkets, still provide a sense of what the city might have felt like centuries earlier. The area is teeming with life as locals go about their daily business socializing, pumping water from urban wells, purchasing supplies for their own families, or even trying to entice a foreigner to just stop in for a look at what they‘ve got on offer.

But during our stay, I found it difficult to tear myself away from the views of the Udaipur’s lakes and mountains, not to mention the sunsets. While the backwaters and mountains of Kerala were equally amazing, it was partly because I found that type of tropical landscape so unexpected for India. But, I think I kept coming back to the mesmerizing landscapes surrounding Udaipur because I knew this was authentic India and I was finally beginning to like what I saw.

UDAIPUR PHOTO ALBUM (click photo):

Udaipur '07

Tea & Coconuts

2007-03-21T13:38:00.001-05:00

Floating down a lazy river lined with coconut trees and rice paddies on a slow moving houseboat is about as far from the chaos of Mumbai as you can get without leaving India. It’s also pretty far from the type of landscape I expected to encounter in India. But, that’s where, thankfully, I found myself along with my new traveling compatriots after a mentally exhausting first week in India.

From Kerala Backwa...

Fleeing Mumbai, we made our way south to the state of Kerala. Like the United States, India is made up of about 25 states (that number fluctuated recently when one state divided into two or three so my count is likely off). While it’s only the second state I’ve visited in this massive country, Kerala just might be the most scenic and enticing of them all. The state hugs India’s southeastern shoreline just a few hundred miles up from the country’s southern tip. It boasts one of the best education and literacy rates in the nation as well as decent - for India - infrastructure. It’s also home to the world’s first democratically elected communist government - ponder that for a minute - and although the hammer & syckle is seen frequently it feels a lot less ominous here.

Kerala’s best feature by far is it’s entrancing landscape. The areas closer to the ocean are thickly covered with coconut trees, rice paddies and a series of interconnected rivers, canals, inlets and lakes that give it a tropical island feel. Further inland, the landscape makes a sharp ascent in the form of formidable mountains softened by a covering of green leafy trees and tea plantations. Whether floating down one of it’s waterways or strolling through the mountainous tea plantations, Kerala is far from what I ever expected to find in India - and I’m happy to have found it.

It provided the perfect antidote to Mumbai’s madness. Despite only a week in India, we all needed a break to collect ourselves a bit. That break came in the form of an overnight houseboat trip drifting down the web of rivers and canals that make up Kerala’s remarkable backwaters. The houseboat was a simple sloop covered with a thatched roof and almost wicker like wood walls that enclosed two simple rooms giving Jen, John and I the run of the place for twenty-four hours, along with the crew of three.

The boat put-putted it’s way effortlessly through the maze of canals as we sat on the covered front deck, our attention fully captivated by the charm of the seemingly secret world surfacing all around us. In stark contrast to the India we’d witnessed thus far, the small communities that make their homes on the tiny slivers of land that split the grid of waterways seemed serene havens with tightly knit communities living off the bountiful fruit borne by their careful cultivation of the fertile lands surrounding them.

As we floated by, schoolchildren returned from school via the local bus - a long canoe. Women washed the family’s daily laundry or dishes in the river waters, farmers refreshed themselves in the same waters after a long days’ work tending the nearby rice fields, and small markets came alive on the riverbanks as family’s came out for a round of socializing with their downstream or upstream neighbors. As the sun set over the placid waterway that would be our overnight resting place, a hectic, overwhelming India seemed worlds away.

The following day we traded the peace of Kerala’s backwaters for the tranquility of it’s mountainous tea country. The hill country, as the locals call it (but they are definitely mountains), seems to be India’s version of Napa Valley, but with tea plantations assuming the roll of vineyards. Having never found myself in the vicinity of a tea plantation, I’d never have imagined them to be something worthy of a visit. But, Kerala‘s immaculately manicured tea fields, draped across soft undulating mountains, were downright exquisite. Nearly every turn down one of the area’s numerous twisting country roads revealed multiple post card perfect settings.

In the morning a cool mist rises over the mountain valley as the small communities come quietly alive to tend to the tea fields. The fields are carved up into sections,each of which is harvested every two weeks, year round, on a rotating basis. The fields are immaculately manicured and almost seem like royal gardens than tea fields. As the late afternoon sun hits the fields, they glow bright green filling the valley in green-yellow hues. As the sun goes down locals and visitors flee to the loftiest grounds to take in the sunset as it dips behind the verdant mountain range. It all makes for a pretty remarkable place and its easy to see why the area is a favorite among Indian newlyweds.

After four relaxing days, we reluctantly said goodbye to the serene, tropical backwaters and immaculate, tranquil mountainside tea fields of Kerala. As we took our seats on the plane, I noticed that the angst and exhaustion so pervasive in our first week in India had managed to evaporate somewhere between the rivers and mountains. Kerala's unexpected natural beauty and laid-back enclaves provided the perfect counterbalance to chaotic Mumbai, restoring our natural equilibrium and reviving our curiosity to continue delving deeper into India.

KERALA BACKWATERS PHOTO ALBUM (click photo):

Kerala Backwaters '07

MUNNAR (TEA PLANTATIONS) PHOTO ALBUM (click photo):

Munnar '07

KOCHI PHOTO ALBUM (click photo):

Kochi (Cochin) '07

It's Makes My Head Hurt

2007-03-20T08:42:00.002-05:00

From Mumbai (Bomba...

It’s day two of my twenty-one day tour of India and I’m struggling. I’m struggling to reconcile everything that I’m seeing, smelling, tasting and even feeling. But, it all just keeps swirling around in my head aimlessly looking for something to break it all down in an orderly fashion - as I always manage to do in my organized little world.

But, India is far from organized, and could never be called little, so my senses begin to overload from the growing backlog of unresolved sensory input. My body begins to revolt in protest. I acquire a headache that will not leave me for the duration of my stay in Mumbai (formerly known as Bombay).

My stomach stages a violent coup and usurps any control I have over it in a power play to demand that I cease immediately my attempts at being a culinary adventurer. My eyes begin to glaze over, no longer able to cope with the onslaught of disparate images inundating my pupils.

In just twenty-four hours, I’ve already found India almost too much to digest, literally and figuratively. Mumbai is just a microcosm of the rest of the country. Like the rest of India - as I’ll find out - Mumbai seems to have world-class potential. Located on a slim peninsula that juts off the massive Indian subcontinent like a downward curled finger, it’s surrounded by the Indian Ocean with a wide, arching shoreline to the east, and a slender, more secluded one to the west which would seem prime to make Mumbai an ideal stop on anyone’s global itinerary.

But, that world-class potential is buried deeply beneath near-ludicrous levels of pollution, unseemly mounds of garbage, chaotic traffic, grime and soot covered crumbling buildings, shoddy streets and sidewalks, and an overpopulation issue that results in one of the most,if not the most, horrific percentages of unemployment and poverty in the world. Out of a national population of 1.1 billion, 800 million live in abject poverty - that‘s almost triple the entire U.S. population, rich and poor.

It’s wearing me down quickly to have all my senses on constant red-alert, keeping careful watch on where I’m walking (into unyielding traffic or possibly a big pile of cow poo), what I’m hearing (the constant shriek of hundreds of car horns), or who that might be touching me (a relentless hawker, a stray dog, or just maybe that cow I passed a couple of minutes ago). But, what’s really getting to me is the constant swirl of emotions that accompany each new sensory input.

I seem to cycle, at break-neck speed, through equal levels of amazement, disgust, excitement, despair, and total bewilderment. Frustration also creeps in frequently as the sheer scope of the destitute millions seems inhumane, yet I’m almost at a loss for where one might even begin to make it better. The lack of any semblance of infrastructure baffles me as to how a city of 18 million can function. No clean water system, not even a moderately functioning waste management system, nor even a mile or two of remotely adequate roads.

Most frustrating though, is that I've constantly heard, prior to arrival, about how the country is on the verge of being anointed the next great world power with a supposedly burgeoning economy thanks to its tech savvyness. Yet, the reality I'm encountering tells me that at most, Mumbai - and the rest of India - is built on a shaky foundation of monumental domestic issues that seem ripe to nip it’s global aspirations in the bud if not addressed in the rather near future.

I'm no governmental, political or economic genius, but it would seem that there are a vast array of public works projects that could employ millions - even billions - for decades while providing the type of infrastructure that the country sorely needs. Likewise, it would, hopefully, serve to raise the standard of living to at least functional which would seem to be light years beyond what the majority of the populace endures currently.

But, ripping my emotions to the opposite side of the spectrum, I am struck by the heart of the country. That, after all, has long been India's calling card, and it seems for good reason. The overall friendliness, sense of family and concern for the community with which most Indians seem to conduct their lives, despite whatever their lot in that life might be, is inspiring. In fact, in my short stay in Mumbai thus far, I've been party to two incredible acts of kindness and selflessness.

After walking aimlessly for a good twenty minutes, trying to find the Mahatma Ghandi museum, my friends Jen & John (I'll get to them shortly) and I came to an intersection. The crossing split five ways yet lacked any visible markings that would give us an indication of which street was which or where we were on the map we were uselessly staring at. Seeing our confusion, a man easily in his 70s, approached us and asked us where we wanted to go. We reluctantly told him our intended destination.

Our hesitation arose from having encountered a similar ploy from the numerous touts we'd encountered during our short stay who then demand payment for their 'services' (i.e. telling you which general direction to head). But, he seemed rather dignified and his age made us feel it was likely that our first instinct was incorrect. He told us to follow him which we did mostly out of sheer desperation. He quietly walked us eight blocks down one of the streets to the destination we sought, which turned to be the opposite of the direction he was originally heading himself.

Amazed at his kindness, we sheepishly offered to pay him for his efforts, although we felt like we might insult his kindness by doing so. But, he flatly refused, despite numerous attempts, and simply wished us a good day and healthy lives before disappearing back into the Mumbai millions.

A few days later, we found ourselves in the northern suburbs of Mumbai, determined to explore one of the city's middle class suburbs and seek out some authentic Indian fare. We inadvertently chose to do so during Holi which is one of India's biggest holidays resulting in the closure of most restaurants and businesses. So, we stumbled over to the gate of a nearby country club to ask for recommendations on where to dine.

Overhearing our inquiry was a club member who just signing in for lunch himself. Almost instantly, he insisted that we join him as guests in the club and dine at our leisure. We sheepishly, but hungrily, took him up on his offer and were led to a table situated between the pool and ocean. He advised us to order from whatever menu we preferred before leaving to join his own party across the grounds.

An hour later, after paying our own bill, we approached the man again to thank him and offered to pay for his meal to repay his kindness. But, as the old man had done days earlier, he steadfastly refused, accepting only our thanks and wishing us well in our journeys.

As the noise in my head and rumblings of my body continue to try to adjust to this place, which is far outside my comfort zone, these two men remind me what I already know. It's all about the people. Through the people of this, or any country, is how I am sure to begin to make sense of the chaos that seems to surround me. It's in them that I will find discomfort and uneasiness replaced by relief and enjoyment, and an understanding of what makes India tick. I may not ultimately agree with or enjoy everything that I find, but hopefully I will understand and that will make all the difference.

Making a difference right off the bat, has been the chance to travel with a few friends while I'm in India. My friends, Jen and John have been on their own 'round-the-world journey. As I've traveled west, they've headed east and India is where our paths cross. While there are advantages to traveling solo, there are equally as many to traveling with others, and this has been a welcome change. If nothing else, it provides built in companions to talk to about our various travels and experiences. That is turning out to be ideal to help adjust to these new surroundings.

However, I was a bit overeager to mimic their zeal for delving into local cuisine, figuring I could be a bit more adventurous with a couple who are much more familiar with it than I. Those attempts backfired - I‘d say literally here, but that could be just too much information - and I soon had to moderate my intake of local cuisine and peruse the menu more judiciously. But, I did find a few dishes that were moderate to the palate and stomach which I came to enjoy a number of times throughout our various stops in India.

I was also comforted to see that they seemed to share my own affliction of struggling to cope with our new environment, although theirs’ seemed a bit more subdued as they’ve just started traveling again after a two month break while India is the crescendo of my so-called third world journeys. Even better, Jen came equipped with a full medical arsenal including a bottle of Tylenol that just might help me shake this headache and begin to see India which a much clearer head.

MUMBAI PHOTO ALBUM (click photo):

Mumbai (Bombay) '07

Some Bags May Look Alike

2007-03-19T07:48:00.002-05:00

My flight from Singapore arrived an hour and a half late thanks to air traffic delays(?). I arrived in Mumbai around 12:30am. Customs went surprisingly smooth and I headed to baggage claim crossing my fingers that my bag would be waiting for me on the luggage carousel. I gave it a 50/50 chance. The time between my connecting flights in Singapore was less than forty minutes which usually seems to be the cut off point for my bags not making the flight with me on an international connecting flight. Since my flight was so late arriving, I also wasn’t sure if the driver my hotel had arranged to pick me up would stick around at the late hour, so I was eager not to delay things further with baggage issues.

I have a rather unique looking bag and in all my travels thus far I have yet to see another one like it. So, one the black and gray travel pack came came rumbling around the conveyor belt, I knew it was mine and was greatly relieved. To my additional relief, I also managed to find the waiting driver dispatched from the hotel and we made the 40 minute drive into the city.

Even at two in the morning, I was met with an onslaught of overly friendly staff at my hotel. The quickly checked me in and ushered me to my room. Exhausted, I threw my bag onto my bed to extract just what I needed for a welcome night's rest. Then, I noticed something peculiar. The lock on the bag was not the one I use. Another lock was missing entirely. Finally, a quick inspection of some of the items in the bag also revlealed that they were not my own.

It took my tired brain a minute to catch up, but I finally realized that this was not my bag. Seems my comfort level of believing my bag was truly one-of-a-kind had finally caught up with me. Instead of checking the luggage tag - also not mine - I just assumed I had the right bag. At this hour in the morning, I imagined that there was someone else in Mumbai making a similar discovery and they were not happy.

So, at 2:30am, I grabbed a cab and headed back for the airport. I was unsure if it would even be open, let alone whether my bag might be there. Even worse, I imagined that a now irate passenger might be waiting for me to call me on my stupidity in person.

Luckily, I arrived to find the airport open and fully functionally. More amazing, I spotted my bag sitting atop a luggage cart the moment I entered the unclaimed luggage area. I was estatic. I then set about righting my wrong. I found an airline representative to hand over the bag I had mistakenly taken. She eyed me with a bit of distain which I took to mean that the rightful owner may have given her a piece of his mind that was intended for me. Seems the bag contained the only belongings that the man had brought to India as he had no carry-on. Further, he was scheduled to take a connecting flight elsewhere in the morning and was deperately seeking the bag to at least change his clothes. I found out a few day later, that he had even called my parent's house, as it's the number listed on my bag tag, in an attempt to track me down.

I told the airline rep that I'd be happy to pay for delivery of the bag, his hotel or taxi, or any other measure to make up for the mistake. But, she dismissed such ideas with a firm tone and gave a glare that I understood to mean that I should leave immediately. I did just that, finally returning to my hotel at 4am. As I quickly fell asleep I thought that my visit to India just might be a bit more of an adventure than I was expecting.

Vietnam Recommendations

2007-03-18T13:55:00.001-05:00

Vietnam was quintessential Southeast Asia for me. It’s a raw, stunningly beautiful country just beginning to emerge from its socialist sleep to find it’s way in the modern world. Yet, it’s in no rush which makes it a fascinating place to visit if for no other reason - and there are many others - than it remains fairly untainted and will likely continue to remain so for some time to come. It has it’s issues like poverty, infrastructure, and the economy, yet is remarkably easy and efficient to travel within. The people are friendly, facilities and infrastructure surprisingly good and the prices can’t be beat.

Also, most places in Vietnam prefer the U.S. dollar so you don’t even have to change currency necessarily (depending on where you're from or came from). The landscape is beautiful and varied with lush green mountains, fields, and forests. The beaches are excellent and largely untouched and the cities - outside of Saigon - are reminders of what it must’ve been like to live in Europe a couple hundred years ago - but with electricity, cable and an good internet connections.

Vietnam can be chaotic, alien and exotic all of which adds to it’s allure. There are still traces of memories of the war, mostly as tourist stops, but you have to search them out if you want them. Otherwise, Vietnam is classic Asia and a must see for any trip to the region. Now is the time to go before it becomes well-trodden like many of its neighbors.

HANOI

Au Lac Café - excellent, cozy, street side café in the French Quarter across from the Sofitel Metropole. Excellent food in large portions for just a few dollars in a relaxing, slightly upscale setting and good service.

Hoan Kiem Lake - the epicenter of Hanoi and for good reason. A pleasant place to walk around day or night or find a café close by to enjoy the view.

Papa Joe’s Coffee - more of a restaurant than a coffee shop with multiple stories, located within a stone’s throw of Hoan Kiem Lake. Good variety of offerings on the menu from authentic Vietnamese food to international fare. Great views of the lake.

Sofitel Metropole Hotel - a classic, old world feeling hotel built in French colonial style, mostly because it was built when Vietnam was essentially a French colony. The best hotel in the city and a good place to grab some food on the outdoor patio.

Salute Hotel - very good, small hotel one block northeast of Hoan Kiem Lake in a great area almost in-between the Old Quarter and the French Quarter. Nice, clean, good size rooms and modern amenities at rock bottom prices ($20-$30/night). Friendly staff who also help with travel arrangements and there’s also good internet access.

Ha Long Bay - a great two or three day side trip a couple hours bus ride from Hanoi. Depending on the weather, you can get misty waters or bright, colorful blue water and either makes for great viewing of the hundreds of rock spires and protruding mountain tops that provide the bay’s fantastic scenery. An overnight on a junk boat is the ideal way to see the area.

HOI AN

Cargo Club Restaurant - a first rate restaurant serving excellent dishes across the board whether authentic Vietnamese fare or international cuisine. Great front patio on a nice, quiet but traveled street in the heart of Hoi An

Tailored Clothing - a must-do experience in Hoi An. Hundreds of shops provide similar services making tailor made clothing of your choosing at super cheap prices (shirts - $12, pants - $15, suits - $50). It’s best to go in with pictures or examples, but some stores specialize in specific items (i.e. men’s clothing, women’s dresses, women’s clothing, shoes, etc), so shopping around a little before you commit doesn’t hurt. You pick the fabric, the style, the color, etc., and it’s all ready in 24 hours.

My Son - World Heritage site about an hour’s bus ride from Hoi An with ruins of old Cham temples and sanctuaries deep in a forested area slightly inland.

Cu Cai Beach - the main beach about 3 miles from the center of Hoi An that’s easy to get to by cab, motorbike, or bike with the latter being one of the better experiences. A nice beach facing the South China Sea although it can get a bit crowded so heading a little bit north or south provides more privacy

Vinh Hung 2 Hotel - good multi-story hotel in the heart of Hoi An with great rooms, big bathrooms, balconies and a decent pool. Clean and comfortable rooms with friendly, helpful staff and cheap prices ($25-$40/night)

Palm Garden Resort - high-end, exclusive resort on the beach in Cu Cai but far enough north of the main beach to avoid the (small) crowds. Upscale rooms and bungalows, a couple of good restaurants, great pool and nice beach (semi-private) all at reasonable prices for what you get ($95-$150/night)

HO CHI MINH CITY (SAIGON)

Independence/Reunification Palace - served as HQ for the South Vietnamese before and during the war until captured by the North Vietnamese during the fall of Saigon, then home to the President of the re-unified country post-war. Most interesting are the war planning and orchestration facilities in the basement.

War Remnant’s Museum - an interesting, if at times disheartening look of the effects of war on the country and it's people. There is, for obvious reasons, a heavy anti-America slant in the exhibits that can sometimes go over the top, but that doesn't take away from the museum's impact.

So-So Saigon

2007-03-17T22:39:00.003-05:00

My plan to spend four days exploring Ho Chi Minh City (formerly known as Saigon) was thwarted by my unexpectedly extended stay in Hoi An. Thus, my time in Vietnam’s largest city was reduced to just a day and a half. That turned out to be a bit of good fortune as Ho Chi Minh City was not quite my cup of tea.

Granted, my limited time restricted my explorations to just a couple of the city’s main districts and a couple of key sights which may not have provided the most rounded view of the city. Plus, HCMC’s place on the schedule of my tour of Vietnam may have also contributed as it was hard to accept the city’s urban chaos compared to the last ten days spent amid Hoi An’s rural wonders and Hanoi’s old world grandeur. But, I did make a concerted effort to explore a rather extensive amount of the city’s most well-trodden areas to give me a good enough sense to confidently form an opinion of it.

Unfortunately, most of that opinion is not overly positive. HCMC is congested, dirty, polluted, noisy, confusing, smoggy, overcrowded, overwhelming and chaotic. It smells too. Homes, store fronts and just about everything else are jammed tightly into narrow, unsightly streets adorned with seemingly hundreds of telephone and electrical wires hanging haphazardly from rickety poles. The streets are packed with swift moving motorbikes with obvious contempt for pedestrian obstacles. It would be a bit overstated to say the streets are laid out in anything resembling a grid and attractive, tree-lined avenues seem to be a monopoly reserved solely for Saigon’s capital neighbor to the north, Hanoi.

From Ho Chi Minh C...

Even the people, usually the redeeming quality to any location I’ve found not to my liking, seemed a bit disgruntled and irritable. Not that they don’t have good cause to be so. Having been on essentially the losing end of a civil war (i.e. the Vietnam War), the people of South Vietnam evidently still endure some prejudices and hardships from their northerly brethren as a residual effect of the war’s ultimate outcome. While that seems to be fading for the most part after a couple of generations separation from that turbulent period, that could be the cause for the slight cynicism I sensed in HCMC.

Time constraints and cynical citizens aside, I still found more than a few things to do and explore during my thirty-six or so hours in HCMC. Most of it revolved around the city’s District 1, still known as Saigon, which serves as the main tourist area. It’s centered around Dong Khoi road which is built up in a slightly more attractive manner than the other districts of central HCMC. It contains a shady lane or two with a couple of outdoor cafes and restaurants, doing it’s best to provide an attractive oasis for foreigners and locals alike. The area is also home to a couple of upscale department stores that seem slightly out of place compared to the rest of the city, but seem to do a moderate business nonetheless. A couple of holdovers from Vietnam’s turn as a French colony also provided some noteworthy attractions. The attractive Notre Dame Cathedral sits smack in the middle of a section of Dong Khoi road and the equally attractive Post Office is just across the street, both constructed in a classic French colonial style.

The two main sights where I spent the most time, however, related to the Vietnam War (known to the Vietnamese as the American War). The Reunification Palace and War Remnant’s Museum are a couple of HCMC’s main attractions. Luckily, they seem to be among a dwindling number of war-related attractions around the country as our two countries resumed conciliatory relations well over a decade ago. But, I was intrigued to see a bit of history on display and perhaps glean some insight into how the Vietnamese view the war decades later. I’ll also admit I did so with a slight bit of apprehension as to what that might turn up.

The Reunification Palace has gone under a couple of names that seem to match it’s equal number of edifices. The site was originally home to a French built palace that housed the French governor who ruled the colony then known as Indochina which comprised Vietnam, Laos and Cambodia at the time. When the French left, the new prime minister of South Vietnam claimed the palace, but when he was assassinated about ten years later (1962), the palace was leveled. In it’s place arose the current building which looks more like a 1960’s corporate headquarters than it does a palace. It was called Independence Palace, a moniker meant as much for independence from the North (and communism) as from the French. It was (in)famously captured by the North on April 30, 1975 - better know as the Fall of Saigon - amd thereafter called Reunification Palace.

A tour of the palace is interesting enough although not entirely remarkable. I whisked through three floors of presidential offices, meeting rooms, conference rooms, dining rooms and even a gambling room. Perhaps the most interesting part of the tour I found was the well-preserved sixties-era design and furniture that served to provide an eerie feel of being back in the sixties in the middle of the war. Enhancing that feeling were the more interesting finds in the basement and on the roof terrace. The roof sported its own U.S.-built Huey helicopter - which I find to be one of the war's emblematic icons - which the North‘s conquering president used to fly around the country post-war. The basement consisted of what was essentially a war bunker complete with multiple war rooms with large maps on the walls depicting which territories belonged to which side and indicating strategic initiatives. Leading from the main war rooms was a dark, dank, ominous hallway that stretched the length of the palace and was packed with tiny rooms dedicated to every imaginable form of communication from high-frequency radio to field radios to tele-type. It’s a far cry, I would imagine, to what’s likely located below the U.S. White House, but it was still very intriguing to get a glimpse into anything of a remotely similar nature in a former presidential residence.

Back outside was a display of a couple of Russian made tanks which were key parts of the Viet Cong arsenal in its efforts against the South Vietnamese and United States. From the front steps, the way the display tanks are positioned, it was easy to imagine similar tanks crashing through the palace gates in late April forty-one years ago as the North raced into Saigon to claim ultimate victory. I’d be willing to bet that’s not a coincidence.

Reunification Palace served mostly as a place of interest for its role as a headquarters for the South and was for the most part devoid of anything referencing the actual battles of the war. The War Remnants Museum, however, was significantly less restrained in that regard as the very name might indicate. The museum is meant to depict the ravages of war and oppression that Vietnam has endured over the last century or so. While it makes a faint effort to loop France and South Vietnam’s first prime minister (Ngo Dinh Diem), who the North evidently views as a vile dictator - my own knowledge of the subject, from either perspective, is non-existent- the vast majority of the museum focuses on the Vietnam (American) War. In fact, it could almost be called the American War Remnants Museum because it’s almost entirely made up of exhibits - including a display of war planes, machinery and weaponry made up solely of captured U.S. Army items -depicting the United States’ role in the war with not so subtle inferences to America essentially being a diabolical perpetrator of a multitude of egregious wrongs against Vietnam.

I reminded myself that I was in Vietnam, home to essentially the winning side, and I understood that the war would likely be portrayed in manner different from what I'd long experienced stateside. But, it was done in such a heavy-handed way that it seemed to erode a bit of the impact from the otherwise captivating displays. It also made the tour a bit disconcerting and uneasy, but perhaps rightly so. Also likely was that my own patriotism was silently rising as a shield attempting to deflect criticism as I made my way through the museum.

But, one exhibit did serve to leave a resounding impact regardless of any overall bias. ‘Requiem’, as the exhibit was called, was a collection of starling, often unnerving, photographs and news articles that showcased the devastating effects of the multitude of guns, grenades, mines and bombs on innocent bystanders. In particular, the exhibit gave significant focus to the effects of napalm and phosphorous on soldiers and citizens alike. The subjects of the collection of disturbing images were those who had lost limbs, been disfigured or burned, or suffered birth defects due to their parents exposure to substances like napalm and phosphorous when military ordinance found its way into the path of those caught in the middle of a brutal war. It was a glaring reminder that war is a losing proposition for all involved.

Most of a day spent touring through monuments to war certainly didn’t serve to bolster my feelings about HCMC. But, perhaps its that very war that’s affected HCMC more than any other city in Vietnam and it’s just trying to get by as best it’s can as it digs out from its past. Still, one would hope that as Vietnam begins to embrace economic reform and seeks to revive its stagnant economy that HCMC will begin to transform its self from the seedy, chaotic metropolis that it is today into Vietnam’s most vibrant, alluring city which it certainly could, for all it foibles, be capable of doing. It would be good not only for visiting tourists, but maybe even more so for the locals who inhabit its chaotic confines on a daily basis.

HO CHI MINH CITY PHOTO ALBUM (click photo):

Ho Chi Minh City (Saigon) '07

Tailor-Made

2007-03-13T21:23:00.001-05:00

My second stop on my tour through Vietnam took me to the middle of the country along the eastern coastline to the small city of Hoi An. For a small city it has a lot to offer, with an attractive central town featuring a dearth of cheap tailor-made clothes makers and great art galleries, an undiscovered gem of a beach close by and a collection of ancient temples just an hour away at My Son.

For all the attractions that Hoi An and the surrounding area had to offer, I had plenty of time to explore them as the Tet holiday left all modes of transportation booked solid. The first flight I could find out of Hoi An left two days later than I’d planned, leaving me five days to thoroughly check them out. Plus, after four months of traveling with the same limited wardrobe, I was in the market for some new clothes anyway.

To get to Hoi An, you fly into Da Nang which is about 25 miles north. It makes for an interesting introduction as you pass the remnants of the massive former U.S. Air Force and Army bases, including the famous China Beach, that still occupy their long-deserted parcels thirty some years after the Vietnam War(American War to the Vietnamese) ended. It’s a quick reminder that traveling freely around the stunningly beautiful country is still a somewhat new opportunity having just opened it‘s borders to foreigners just over a decade ago. It’s a realization that was not lost on me as I thought about my father’s own ‘visit’ to this same country some forty years ago under much different circumstances. A quick reminder that the ability to take a trip such as the one I'm doing is indeed a privilege.

From Hoi An '07

But, once you get to Hoi An, memories of more troubled times fade away. Hoi An could be mistaken for a large village as much as it could for a town. Riding a bike from one end to the other takes all of ten minutes and walking maybe twenty-five. But, it exudes a certain relaxed charm that makes it instantly likeable and seems even a bit bigger than it’s diminutive borders might indicate. It’s a town that seems a piece of classic Southeast Asia seems pulled right from the pages of a National Geographic issue. It's picturesque dirt and cobblestone streets are lined with yellow-hued, low slung store fronts and restaurants. The south end of town is bordered by a river which provides waterfront dining on each side, although the north side seems more geared towards tourists while the south is more for locals.

While the multitude of stores offering tailor-made clothing services (about one out of every two stores) could pass for Vietnam’s version of rampant commercialism, Hoi An is devoid of anything except locally owned businesses including its hotels which makes for a refreshing departure from other destinations - not that rampant commercialism and familiar brands are unwelcome on other occassions. Interspersed with the clothing stores are a number of proprietors offering hand made, high quality art and craft work. The numerous small art galleries showcase impressive work done by local artists in vivid colors and textures sometimes using subjects native to Vietnam and sometimes more abstract, but always eye-catching. They hold more than their own against anything else I’ve seen around the world, at least in terms of art that normal people can actually afford.

What a lot of people come to Hoi An for, however, is the tailor made clothing. In just twenty-four hours you can have a complete wardrobe full of multiple suits, pants, shirts, or anything else you can dream up all for about the cost of any one of those items at a decent retail store in the U.S. You get to pick the fabrics, designs, colors, how many pockets, zips or buttons, flare or straight-leg and just about anything else you can think of to make your custom-made clothes unique.

It’s typically best to walk in with ideas ripped from the latest magazines or off the internet, but I managed to walk in sans visual aids and a near nonexistent ability to speak fashionese and the staff still figured out what it was that I was looking to get made. By the next afternoon my clothes were ready for an initial fitting after which a couple adjustments were made and two hours later I walked out the door with a new shirt and pants that fit just right for all of thirty bucks. Had I had more room in my already over packed bag, I would’ve opted to have a couple of custom-tailored suits made for all of about eighty dollars each. If you ever find yourself in Vietnam and near Hoi An, it’s well worth spending a couple days to revamp your wardrobe.

The nearby Cu Cai beach does it’s best to attract visitors for reasons that rather inspire shedding clothes versus donning a wardrobe of new ones. Cu Cai is just a couple miles outside of Hoi An and its an attractive ride even just getting out to the beach. That trip is usually made via pedal bike or motorbike along a road that meanders along a river lined with rice fields and coconut trees. The beach itself is refreshingly still mostly undiscovered and untainted, as it seems to have yet avoided making it onto most traveler’s must-see lists although it seems to be increasingly popular with domestic visitors. But, it’s pleasant sandy beach fronting the South China Sea and a small forest of palm trees as its background seem to make it ripe for one day being mentioned in the same breath as Phuket or Bali. Regardless of Cu Cai’s potential future it was great to find this hidden gem before most of the rest of the world and spend the better part of a day walking its unspoiled beaches.

For my last day in Hoi An, I decided to put away the present day luxuries of tailor made clothing and basking in the sun and actually take in some history. About an hour’s bus ride southwest of Hoi An is a modest site of ancient temple ruins, called My Son. The temples were built centuries ago by the Cham people who once inhabited the area. It’s one of Vietnam’s UNESCO World Heritage Site’s that houses a series of small, connected temple complexes that were lost for hundreds of years, covered over by dense forest after the Cham people died out.

But, the ruins were finally re-discovered and remain preserved mostly in the state in which they were found although much of the brush that covered the temples has been removed. The temples are built entirely of bricks fashioned from the ground on which they stand and bonded together with a natural tree resin that the Cham people discovered and used frequently centuries before mortar or cement fulfilled the same role. They are not the most remarkable set of ruins I’ve ever laid eyes on, but they do make for interesting exploring.

Adding to the interest is the fact that they served as a hiding place for Viet Cong during the Vietnam War and two of the complexes were mostly destroyed by American bombing campaigns done to flush out the VC from the area. Although, the American Army evidently had no idea at the time that the temples existed and have since paid a sizeable sum to fund the restoration of the remaining complexes.

The nice part of the basic nature of the temples is that you are allowed to walk into any of them and see them as they were centuries ago untouched by restoration efforts for the most part. Inside are sacrificial alters, stone carvings honoring the various Cham gods and other carvings depicting sacred scenes and animals. Almost as interesting is the setting in which the temples are set - an overgrown forest of dense, leafy trees and ivy-like underbrush surrounded by similarly covered mountains nearby. It very much fit the picture of Vietnam I had in my head from every movie, magazine or other image I’ve seen about the country’s landscape in my lifetime.

So, after touching up my tan, refreshing my wardrobe a bit and checking out an interesting bit of history, I finally took my leave of the pleasant town of Hoi An and headed south to Saigon. But, my five days were time well spent as Hoi An let me immerse myself in a more natural slice of life in Vietnam’s rural countryside to see how most of the millions of Vietnamese citizens live daily life. It’s certainly one of the most naturally beautiful areas of the world I’ve found. One day maybe everyone else will discover this little slice of quintessential Vietnam and Southeast Asia. But, for now I’ll try to keep it my little secret.

HOI AN PHOTO ALBUM (click photo):

Hoi An '07

MY SON PHOTO ALBUM (click photo):

My Son '07

A Hobbling Happy New Year In Hanoi

2007-03-13T12:21:00.001-05:00

From Hanoi '07

Hanoi was one of those places that barely found the edges of my radar screen prior to embarking on this trip. This was mostly due to the numerous other cities I prioritized before it and the lack of research I did on the city due to such prioritization. I originally viewed Hanoi as a launching point to visit the nearby natural wonders of Ha Long Bay, figuring I’d at least check out the city while I was in the area. I figured even a brief exploration would provide fodder for comparison to the larger Ho Chi Minh City (Saigon) that I'd be visiting a few weeks later.

Thus, I arrived in Hanoi with few expectations. Four days later I departed Hanoi having found it to be one of my favorite cities in all my travels. My affection for Hanoi could be in part to the unknowingly auspicious occasion of my arrival. I set foot in Hanoi, and Vietnam for that matter, on the eve of the country’s biggest national holiday, Tet New Year. Tet is an age old celebration of the lunar new year, an occasion more commonly associated globally with Chinese celebrations. In fact, the day I arrived kicked off a solid week’s worth of celebration that had most local businesses closed for the duration as everyone dispersed around the country to visit friends and relatives. The effect of the all those people traveling at once is something that would come to affect me at my next stop in Hoi An.

The pending celebrations provided an ideal introduction to the country’s national capital. Before I was made aware of what was going on by the staff at my hotel, I sensed the city was unusually abuzz, which was further illustrated by the numerous stages and decorations set up at various points around the central hub of the city for concerts, acrobatic performances, parties and fireworks. However, the celebrations would not begin until after sunset which left me ample time to explore Hanoi.

The city’s epicenter is the picturesque Hoan Kiem Lake that’s encircled by a thin band of tree-lined parks. The lake’s attractiveness and simple surroundings coupled with the decided lack of any buildings over five stories - Hanoi boasts one ’skyscraper’ at a whopping twenty stories - contributes significantly to the unexpectedly old world feel of Hanoi. That old worldliness is enhanced by the city’s engaging French Quarter lined with most of Hanoi’s best hotels, shopping outlets and restaurants along wide, airy, tree-lined streets that seem almost ripped right out of Europe some fifty years ago. The sidewalk cafes and restaurants that fill the area and provide excellent atmosphere and sensational food at absurdly low prices - even for the most high end spots - add to the European-esque allure.

Hanoi’s Old Quarter, north of the lake, is a definite departure from the quaint French Quarter to it’s south, yet no less engaging. Replacing the French Quarter’s wide, airy streets are the tight, narrow ones of the Old Quarter which are packed with ramshackle storefronts and narrow tube homes built just 6ft-10ft wide, but typically 30ft-50ft back. The odd shaped housing is thanks to an old French-influenced tax scheme where homeowners were taxed on their street frontage instead of square feet/meters. Those homes and business remain long after the tax plan was abandoned and make for a densely packed, energetic area that provides a glimpse of the everyday life of most Vietnamese living in their capital city.

Regardless of the area of town or width, the streets themselves provide their own spectacle. Motorbikes are the main mode of transportation in Hanoi - more by need and affordability than perhaps preference - by a wide margin. Automobiles are reserved for tourist taxis or the rich and are found only infrequently. In fact most motorbikes serve as the family car and its not uncommon to see a family of four crowded onto one bike on their way to dinner or the market.

But, the better maneuverability of motorbikes seems perfectly suited for Vietnam’s roads which are among the most chaotic I’ve ever experienced. The only rule that applies on the roads of Vietnam is every man for himself. Motorbikes, cars, buses and trucks all swerve from one side of the road to another, including the oncoming lanes, with accidents narrowly avoided nearly every second as each driver uses every available inch of space to advance their own journey. The horn is seemingly the most important feature on any vehicle as it‘s used with migraine-inducing frequency to announce one‘s presence and demand that slower parties remove themselves from impeding the progress of faster drivers. Intersections are particularly hair raising as few include stop lights or stop signs and drivers fly through from every direction with seemingly little thought for crossing traffic.

Even crossing the street as a pedestrian in the middle of Hanoi is an ’at your own risk’ proposition. Pedestrians are an afterthought to anyone moving through the city on two or four wheels. My first attempt at crossing a Hanoi street happened to be on the widest and busiest street in the city, at rush hour no less. I spent a couple of minutes observing the sea of motorbikes constantly streaming past, as well as other pedestrians who managed to successfully complete their own crossings. Then, I stepped into the street and began to wade through the onslaught of exhaust-spewing motorbikes, picking my way step by step until I finally managed to reach the other side more or less unscathed. I got used to it after a few attempts and eventually strode through the tides of motorbikes with increasing confidence. But, whether a pedestrian or passenger, Vietnam traffic is not for the faint of heart.

Street-crossing obstacles aside, Hanoi’s small layout makes it an easily walkable city, the majority of which can be covered in less than a day. So, as nightfall came I’d managed to nearly complete my initial tour of the city and headed back to my hotel to prepare for the night’s exciting festivities. Much like NYC on New Year’s Eve, I noticed crowds beginning to pack the streets around the lake in anticipation of the fireworks extravaganza to be unleashed a few hours later. Signs and decorations began to glow as the daylight faded and stages began to show signs of coming to life.

But, on the way back to my hotel while scuttling across the street to avoid the oncoming surge of motorbikes, I felt a 'pop' in my right calf. I was suddenly rendered unable to walk, a fact that significantly infringed on my plans to celebrate the Tet New Year with the throng that night. I hailed a cab and returned to my hotel to evaluate my options for the evening.

As luck would have it, my hotel decided to host a New Year‘s Eve party for guests on it‘s roof deck. With the hotel just a block from the lake, it provided the perfect proximity from which to view the fireworks. What’s more, they were providing free food and drinks, including celebratory champagne. So, about twenty minutes before midnight, I hobbled up the stairs to the roof only to find out that I was the only guest to take them up on their party.

But, hanging out with four Vietnamese men on the roof of my hotel, as their most beloved holiday kicked off with an impressive display of fireworks, turned out to be one of the more memorable experiences I’ve had. Within just twelve hours of arriving in the country, I got a unique opportunity to experience a small slice of Vietnamese life. As the clock struck midnight, I joined in the toast for a prosperous New Year, which each man equally wished me as much as each other. I watched as the men exchanged excited smiles and wide eyes as the fireworks show thundered to life in the sky. They regularly turned to me to make sure I wasn't missing the best ones. About three quarters of the way into the fireworks, I even noticed as the excitement gave way to a quiet, almost introspective reflection and sense of happiness for the start of the new year as evidenced by the satisfied smile on each face.

As the fireworks died down, we did our best to make conversation, in their broken English and my lack of any Vietnamese. We traded tidbits about ourselves and life in our respective countries, about the weather - a conversational element that seems iniversal! - and our work lives. When I made to leave, having felt I’d stayed my welcome, they insisted I stay for another glass of wine eager to share their holiday with a complete stranger. Two more defeated intentions to leave later, I finally said a final ‘thank you’ and ‘goodnight’ which was met with a series of hearty handshakes and well wishes for a happy, healthy new year.

I spent a few more days in Hanoi relishing in the Tet New Year’s festivities that enlivened the city as well as it‘s day-to-day natural charm. I even made it out to Ha Long Bay which had been the initial reason for my stop in Hanoi. While Ha Long Bay turned out to as naturally stunning and interesting as expected, it ended up being upstaged by my visit to the unexpectedly alluring Hanoi. Perhaps a few glasses of wine, some fireworks, and four men going out of their way to be overly hospitable to a complete stranger on their most cherished national holiday had something to do with that.

HANOI PHOTO ALBUM (click on the photo):

Hanoi '07

HA LONG BAY PHOTO ALBUM (click on the photo):

Ha Long Bay '07

Thailand Recommendations

2007-03-07T09:13:00.001-05:00

Thailand’s well worn tourist path with fairly westernized retail outlets and accommodation in the typical foreigner hot spots makes it a good country for any initial foray into Southeast Asia. Bangkok itself is an excellent base from which to extend travels to the rest of the region with numerous discount air options launching from the regional hub (Singapore and Hong Kong also make good hubs). While a little more westernized and commercialized than most of its neighbors - save Singapore and Hong Kong - it still retains a firm foothold in its traditional culture and provides numerous historical attractions including ancient temples, age old forts and stunning palaces that make the country worth exploring outside of Bangkok. Plus, the fantastic, economical tropical beach islands in the south are a must stop for any visit to the area.

The following are some of the places and things I found enjoyable and useful during my stay in Thailand.

BANGKOK

The rampant modernization and commercialization of Bangkok is slightly off-putting as its familiarity can reduce the exotic allure of the capital city. But, Bangkok still retains some must-see sights, namely its Grand Palace, Reclining Buddha and Golden Buddha attractions which are definitely worth the stay in Bangkok. But, the familiar feeling surroundings of Bangkok can also help to with easing into a visit and change of cultures for any trip to Southeast Asia.

Airport Express Bus - located near door #8 on the lower level of the airport, the airport express bus runs 4 lines that run to different areas of the city. Just tell the clerk behind the desk your destination (hotel, train station, etc) and they’ll tell you which is the best one to take. Generally takes about an hour, but sometimes shorter if you’re one of the first stops. Costs about $4 for a clean, comfortable, efficient bus versus $12 for a taxi (which isn’t a bad option either).
Sirocco - a definite must for any stay in Bangkok. It’s an outdoor roof top bar/restaurant located on the 64th floor of the State Tower building (associated with the 5 star Leuba hotel) near the Chao Phraya River. Not just roof top, but open air so you can see the entire Bangkok metropolitan area unrestricted with an excellent vantage point and the bar/restaurant itself is very chic with great drinks and good food. One of the coolest places on the planet for grabbing a drink or a bite to eat.
Lumphini Park - a sizeable attractive park in one of Bangkok’s downtown areas that’s a nice setting for walking around or just taking a break from the bustling city.
Sun Lum Night Bazaar - located across the street from the southeast corner of Lumphini Park and easy to spot by the large ferris wheel that looms over it, Sun Lum comes alive after the sun goes down with a massive beer garden with nightly entertainment, hundreds of stores and stalls selling all manner of items, plus a plethora of food stalls and restaurants - all without being the least bit seedy or lurid.
Grand Palace/Wat Phrae Kaeo (Temple of the Emerald Buddha) - the star attraction in Bangkok with a series of ornately decorated, intricately detailed temples, shrines, statues and palaces in a sprawling complex in Old Siam near the Chao Phraya River. All of $7 for admission for hours of captivating sightseeing and a chance to see the venerated Emerald Buddha.
Jim Thompson’s House - just west of the Siam Square elevated train station at the end of a side street/alley (called a soi), Jim Thompson’s House provided one of the more interesting attractions for my stay. The house itself is incredibly interesting built from authentic Thai homes transported to this location and all built without nails. Built on stilts, with odd shaped doors, and cool open living room, plus numerous other fascinating rooms. It’s a cool glimpse into how Thai’s lived decades and centuries ago. Jim Thompson’s story and his contributions to Thailand are equally interesting.
Wat Pho (Temple of the Reclining Buddha) - the massive Reclining Buddha is an awe-inspiring sight for its sheer size alone. The rest of the complex is a little worn down and slightly uninteresting, but worth checking out just for the Reclining Buddha.
The Golden Buddha - located in Chinatown just a few minutes north of the Hualumpong subway station, and the main Bangkok train station, in a deceivingly uninspiring building. But, the sizeable Buddha made of pure gold is an interesting sight as are the gold leaf encased statues nearby.
Khao San Road - the famous, or infamous, mecca of the Southeast Asia backpacker trail lives up to its billing with a chaotic, intoxicating, claustrophobic, mesmerizing mix of backpacker hostels and hotels, restaurants, bars and clubs and street vendors all packed into one tiny sliver of Old Siam. Worth checking out just to see what its all about.
Siam Paragon Mall Food Court - one of Bangkok’s top shopping malls with level upon level of luxurious stores, the basement actually provides one of the most interesting food spectacles in an upscale market-like environment housing a couple dozen restaurants and eateries as well as an excellent grocery store with fresh fruit, a bakery and aisles lined with goods from around the world (especially for those wanting a little taste of home).
Suk 11 - a definite hostel, but a very cool place if you are looking for a budget option. Dressed up, rather authentically, on the outside and inside to look like an old Thai village with wood tiled walls and exteriors, wooden slats for sidewalks and hallways yet with modern conveniences in each room and wifi available in the open air lobby. Also features a popular art gallery, restaurant, and spa on the grounds and located in a central part of Bangkok. A great choice for anyone seeking a good low budget option (rooms go for about $17-$25/night with in-room bathrooms in most cases)

KO SAMUI

The somewhat more budget friendly, slightly less developed option to Phuket, Ko Samui is a beautiful tropical island with a nice series of beaches, accommodations to suit any budget and lively nightlife. Direct flights (via only one carrier who owns the island’s airport) fly in/out of the island regularly to/from Bangkok, Phuket and Hong Kong making it a good place to fulfill desires of spending a few days or weeks lying on the beach of a Southeast Asia island paradise.

Long Beach Lodge - great mid-priced beachfront hotel with an excellent central beach location, good rooms, and friendly staff. This is the hotel where I stayed for my week in Ko Samui and it was located near the heart of everything, yet secluded enough to provide a quiet retreat when that was necessary. It’s not as loaded with as many amenities as some of the fancier resorts, but still has plenty to address just about every need. A good quality, clean, satisfying property.
Chaweng Beach Resort, Amari Beach Resort, Tyara Beach Resort - for anyone looking for an upscale, luxurious resort on Ko Samui, these three properties were the best on the beach. The Chaweng Beach Resort actually seemed to be the best, offering five star amenities at three star prices. The Amari and Tyara were equally as good, but felt slightly more like a typical hotel resort while Chaweng had a bit more personality. Still, you can’t go wrong with any of them.
Best Bar/Restaurant - one in a string of restaurant/bars that provide on-the-beach lounge style seating and a wide array of food (Thai and international) and drinks. Best Bar had a slightly more laid back vibe and good music although its still just a few feet away from the bigger, more crowded, slightly more frenzied bar/restaurants on the beach. Food was good too and a great place for star gazing at night over dinner or drinks.
Motorbike Rental - driving on the streets of Ko Samui is not necessarily for the faint of heart, but it is a bit easier than it looks initially. Once you understand the general order to the supposed chaos, its pretty simple to make your way around the island by renting a motorbike for a day. It’s pretty cheap (approx. $8/day) and it only takes and about an hour and a half to get around the whole thing, although you can explore the interior sections as well. Just a day is plenty.

Palm-Fringed Paradise

2007-03-06T13:11:00.001-05:00

I strolled around the island of Ko Samui, leisurely mind you, for two days trying to figure out it’s appeal. It’s a more than attractive island, don’t get me wrong, and it has all the amenities you want in an island paradise. Sandy beaches, blue waters, and a rugged, mountainous interior cloaked in palm trees - all of which are drenched in sunshine and cooled by a light offshore breeze. There is an array of accommodation to suit any traveler with luxury resorts, cheap backpacker huts and moderately priced beachfront villas. It features a main street lined with stores, restaurants and bars to accommodate a wide range of tastes. But, it didn’t strike me as anything distinctly different or more captivating from islands found closer to home such as those in Hawaii or the Caribbean.

From Ko Samui '07

Then it finally dawned on me after a couple nights stretched out in my king size room with the large walk-in shower and beach facing patio for $40 a night and filling my tummy on a mere $10 a day. Ko Samui provides everything you want in an island paradise at dirt cheap prices. I knew it was inexpensive going in, but it really hit home once I was there for a few nights. Not just because I was saving money, but what I was getting for what little money I was spending.

Working out all the stress built up over the last thirty-five years via an hour-long, beachfront, full-body Thai massage was a splurge that set me back a whopping eight dollars. Sitting on the beach having dinner under the stars, I thought nothing of spending an extra buck for another Jack & Coke to extend my star-gazing a little longer. Tired of the style of sunglasses I've been wearing for the last four months, I engaged in a few rounds of haggling and walked away with a new pair of Ray-Bans (at least they looked like it) for all of $10. Even better, sleeping in until 9 a.m. and spending six to eight hours a day basking in the sun cost me nothing. It's no wonder people flock to Ko Samui, or similar Thai islands like Phuket or Kp Phi Phi with great regularity. Plus, it has a little more exotic cache than Hawaii or the Bahamas.

But, the bargain basement prices and sublime setting doesn’t come without a few downsides. While not overly crowded, the beaches are certainly well attended. Hawkers pushing fruit, ice cream, temporary tattoos, and sea-shell necklaces (and, if you listen to closely, more illicit options whispered under their breath), trod up and down the beach frequently interrupting my efforts to turn my typically pasty skin a few shades darker. But, my carefully honed furrowed brow accompanied by a shake of my head and a periodic dismissing wave of my hand seemed to keep them mostly at bay.

The main street is overdeveloped in a rather underdeveloped sort of way. While there is already a Starbucks and McDonald’s, the rest of the retail offerings are comprised of a series of densely packed basic stores fronts which lose their charm after just a few days time. Although, on the other end of the spectrum, there is evidence of burgeoning gentrification as new luxury resorts take the place of backpacker beach huts and develop accompanying shopping centers alongside their resort property. Hopefully Ko Samui’s future lies somewhere in the middle, retaining it’s laid-back, something for everyone atmosphere while upgrading facilities just a bit. Otherwise, Ko Samui, in ten to fifteen years time, could join the ranks of other high priced island hot spots.

But, regardless of those minor detractions, Ko Samui provides an ideal palm-fringed paradise that for eight days beckoned me to do nothing more than just relax and enjoy myself. And, my wallet got a bit of a vacation as well.

KO SAMUI PHOTO ALBUM: http://picasaweb.google.com/gscottie/KoSamui07

Watch Your Step

2007-03-05T13:08:00.002-05:00

On one of my few nights in Chiang Mai, in northern Thailand, I walked the small city’s streets at a rather brisk pace focused on making quick work of the twenty minute walk to my intended dinner destination for the evening. Making my best effort to avoid the touts along the way, I perfected weaving in and out of people lining the streets and sidewalks in my pursuit of a little sustenance.

About halfway into my speedy stroll, I came upon a group of three men heading my direction who spanned the width of the sidewalk. They seemed preoccupied with talking to each other and didn't seem likely to move so as to make a little room for me to pass by. Just as I neared them, I noticed a lamp post about halfway between us and decided to use it to veer around them as we all passed by it. As expected, once we all reached the lamppost, they veered to their right and I stepped in the opposite direction allowing me to successfully clear them and continue on my path. But, as I curled around the lamp post and prepared to step back into the middle of the sidewalk, I reared back in shock when I nearly ran into an elephant! In the dimly lit street, and my narrowly focused attention, I’d somehow managed to fail to see the substantial pachyderm trailing directly behind the three men.

More than a little taken off guard, I jumped back about two feet and right back into the same lamp post. Despite a now aching back, all I could manage to do was stand and stare in bewilderment at the baby elephant now passing me by. Transfixed, I simply watched in awe at the hulking pachyderm meandering down the narrow strip of bars and restaurants accompanied by the three men who were oblivious to the fact that I’d nearly stumbled into their seemingly prized possession. Although I'm not sure how much they might have noticed had that happened. While I was a foot taller than the baby elephant, it outweighed me by a good half ton. It goes without saying that I would’ve lost that battle and I don't know how much the men or the elephant would've noticed as my body crumpled under it's feet. Perhaps the child-like shrieking would've given me away.

I nearly forgot my hunger pains as I kept watching the elephant amble out of sight down the other end of the road. As I started again towards my dinner destination - but at a slightly slower pace, with my eyes scanning every inch of the sidewalk - I tried to fathom why the men might be taking their elephant out for a night on the town. I'm sure there were a myriad of reason from tourist bait to local culture and customs. In the end, I just decided to be thankful for a well placed, and well timed, lamp post that proved to be the difference that kept me one step shy of being trampled by a half ton pachyderm.

Visa Issues

2007-03-04T13:06:00.002-05:00

After I arrived in Bangkok I needed to take care of some official business, namely securing visas for Vietnam and India, countries I planned to visit in the next few weeks and who didn’t provide the more convenient on-arrival visa stamp.

Obtaining a Vietnam visa went surprisingly smoothly. I dropped off my passport at the Vietnam embassy one afternoon, paid twice the normal fee for overnight service, and twenty-four hours later picked up my passport with a shiny new Vietnam visa pasted onto one of the pages.

The next day I headed over to the Indian embassy expecting a similar experience. I walked into the embassy and checked the wall that outlined the visa process. Reassuringly, it indicated that visas were processed within 24 hours. So, I picked up the appropriate paperwork and waited for my number to be called. About thirty minutes later, I made my way up to the visa counter where the expectantly smooth process began to fall apart.

Here I encountered my first instance where a language barrier, or accent barrier in this case, caused a few road bumps in my travels. The clerk spoke broken English that I struggled to understand, catching only the general theme of what he was telling me. He explained that the instructions I read on the wall applied only to citizens of Thailand, of which I obviously was not. As a foreigner applying outside my own country, the process would actually take five days. Further, he indicated - or so I thought - that I would have to leave my passport for that duration and could pick it up once the process was completed.

Insert road bump. I'd already made plans to travel to Chiang Mai in Northern Thailand and Ko Samui in Southern Thailand during that time with plans beyond that which didn't leave a lot of room for change. I wasn't quite prepared to forego the hill country of Chiang Mai or beaches of Ko Samui to spend another week in congested Bangkok just for a sticker in my passport.

I left the embassy without submitting my application and headed back to my hotel to regroup. A quick search on the internet revealed an Indian consulate in Chiang Mai, my next destination, so I quickly devised a plan to extend my stay there another day and drop my passport off immediately at the consulate to pick up on my way out of that city. Afterall, I was going to spend my time in Chiang Mai in the hill country riding elephants and visiting indigenous hill tribes where I was fairly certain I wouldn't need a passport for much of anything.

After twelve hours on a grungy train, I arrived in Chiang Mai eager to set my plan in motion. I should've realized after spending forty-five minutes walking to a consulate that was supposed to be a quick ten minute jaunt, that things wouldn't be going as planned here either.

I pushed my sweaty body through the consulate doors, picked up the now-familiar application, and dropped it on the clerk's desk thinking I was almost home-free. The clerk took my passport, then a few minutes later handed it back to me. She explained that I could keep my passport with me until I had to return for my visa. Things seemed to be better already. She then advised that I could return for said visa in nine days. Insert road bump. After explaining my issues over the last 24 hours, she kindly clarified that both the embassy and consulate do NOT actually require that you surrender your passport for the time it takes to process the visa. They just scan it initially then ask that you hand it in for a few minutes on the day your visa is ready. Seems in my haste to obtain a visa, I'd misunderstood the embassy clerk and hadn't taken the time to clarify things. She also explained that while the processing only requires five days, it doesn't account for weekends and holidays, of which there were both in the upcoming few days. Hence, nine days until I could have my visa.

Elephants or not, I wasn't ready to spend nine days in Chiang Mai and the prospects for 'swinging through' to pick up my visa were nonexistent. Bangkok was my obvious choice, so I opted to forgo the elephants and booked a return flight to Bangkok for the next morning.

The next afternoon, I found myself in the Indian Embassy in Bangkok once more. More keenly aware of the process, I surrendered my passport again, retrieved it a short while later and prepared to return nine days later for my visa, something I could've had one or two days from that moment had I took the time to understand the process initially.

However, I spent the interim eight days sunning myself on the beaches of Ko Samui where any angst my visa procurement situation caused quickly vanished with each crashing wave on the island's soft sand beaches. Nine days later I returned to the embassy and picked up my Indian visa as well as my first lesson in international communications: listen very carefully.

CHIANG MAI PHOTO ALBUM: http://picasaweb.google.com/gscottie/ChiangMai07

Bustling Bangkok

2007-03-03T13:02:00.001-05:00

I went to Bangkok expecting a chaotic, slightly seedy city with rampant signs of a struggling economy and a government in the midst of upheaval. Instead, I found myself surprised by Bangkok’s rampant modernity including massive mega malls, a state-of-the-art subway and elevated train system, and a Starbucks or McDonald’s on almost every corner. It was almost disappointing in its familiarity, although it did provide for a more comfortable transition into Southeast Asia after a few months in Australia.

From Bangkok '07

Bangkok is far from the exotic national capital it often seems to be made out to be. It certainly retains touches of its old world reputation with a bit of scruffiness at street level, a slew of ’hostess bars’ (i.e. strip clubs and brothels), and smoggy, smoky air due in large part to the plethora of motorbikes churning out seemingly unrestricted exhaust emissions on the fairly well packed city streets. But, I almost had to go out of my way to experience the grungy fringe of an otherwise decidedly modern city that’s a heady mix of second world (unlike other parts of Thailand, it’d be tough to describe many parts of Bangkok as truly third world) meets first world.

Bangkok is a sprawling city that spreads itself out unencumbered on an expansive, flat stretch of landscape. It’s built more out than up and a handful of sleek, modest skyscrapers pepper the low skyline providing reference points for the various business and neighborhood clusters around the city. Those clusters are connected by a grid of wide, almost airy (if not for the constant churning of exhaust fumes) main streets packed with late model cars (mostly Toyotas of some sort) and an equal number of motorbikes.

Motorbikes, in fact, seem to be the preferred mode of transportation, likely for their affordability to the average Thai family. While the roads are normally well-packed, they typically fall short of locking up completely thanks in large part to the number of motorbikes that obviously take up less room on the asphalt they share with their larger counterparts. The compact size of the motorbike allows them to deftly, often with seeming disregard for personal safety, swerve in and out of their larger counterparts which ultimately serves to keep traffic moving at a moderate pace. Another factor that seems to foster traffic progressing with some regularity is the little regard given to traffic signs and road rules. It’s a look-out-for-yourself mentality with everyone switching lanes so often that lane markings seem a waste of paint.

I got a chance to experience the organized chaos in many modes of transportation, including on a three-wheeled tuk-tuk, but riding on the back of a motorbike taxi provided the most unique and hair raising experiences by far. Motorbike taxis are as prevalent as automobile taxis on the streets of Bangkok and can often be seen hauling multiple people as well as large packages or deliveries that seem like they should’ve caused the motorbike to tip over or spin out of control miles earlier. I hailed a motorbike taxi on one of my last days in Bangkok, taking that long to work up the nerve. As my driver careened between paper-thin openings between other motorbikes, cars and even large trucks I think I dug a few new fingernail marks into his shoulders hanging on for dear life. But, it was as exhilarating as it was terrifying and I nearly peed my pants for both reasons.

I found more sedate experiences just walking daily around the streets of Bangkok. While it’s office buildings and shopping malls may be ultra-modern retail palaces, the streets themselves are lined with thousands or rudimentary carts and tents offering a glut of offerings from food to handmade trinkets to clothes to the latest theatrical release mysteriously already on dvd. While far from lacking during the daytime, the number of street vendors seems to increase exponentially when the sun goes down resulting in crowded street bazaars that, once you’re amongst them, block out all evidence of the surrounding bricks and mortar retail outlets whose sidewalks they line.

While the vendors hawking wares (t-shirts, shoes, electronics, handmade trinkets) are unquestionably geared toward tourists, the food vendors seem to play more of a role with the locals. Offering a wide array of options - fresh, cut-as-you-wait fruit, a variety of noodle and soup dishes, and just about anything fried or barbecued - the food merchants provide inexpensive dining options for locals looking for a reason to get out of their homes. The food carts also seem to serve as the de facto epicenter of the nightly social scene in many neighborhoods with the sidewalks packed with friends and family partaking of the local cuisine as they catch up on each others’ lives.

The multitude of carts also provide one of Bangkok’s most distinctive characteristics. The city air is permeated by a kaleidoscope of pungent aromas, sometimes parading as pungent odors, emitted from the thousands of food vendors lined up along its sidewalks. A walk along its city streets provides an olfactory assault that becomes as much an experience of the city as any visual stimuli.

However, I failed to work up the courage to sample local fare from any street vendors, even when aromas seemed to be to my liking. Instead, I opted to indulge in the indigenous culinary offerings at more established locales. Luckily, I managed to find equally as authentic and rewarding dishes, even when what I ordered turned out to be a little more than I bargained for. On my very first attempt, I ordered a dish that I seemed a safe initial choice of chicken and noodles to ease into my samplings of authentic Thai cuisine. While I got just what the menu described, it was seasoned with spices that packed a considerable punch leaving my tongue burning, my eyes watering and my nose running. Still, I found it to be a tasty dish and a definite departure from the more sedate Thai food I tried (and still liked) at home prior to leaving. Other samplings proved to be an equal mixture of unexpected tastes and textures and, save for one ill-advised order, I found Thai food generally to my liking.

Outside of eating and walking around downtown Bangkok, I actually did some sight-seeing as well. Most of Bangkok’s main attractions are conveniently located in its historic district, Old Siam, and are easily walkable in a day’s time. The centerpiece is the aptly named Grand Palace which is actually a complex housing numerous official government buildings, sacred temples and the former palace for the country’s venerated monarchs. The current, long-standing monarch, admired with near-deity reverence, now lives in a new, bigger palace a few miles north.

The temples and palaces of the Grand Palace complex are some of the most ornately decorated buildings I’ve ever seen with what must have being painstaking decades of applying the finest minute detailing to every square inch of each building in the complex. It’s a visual feast with every panel of a building revealing a new detail that’s unlike other sections yet congruous to the whole.

The most scared of buildings in the complex is the Temple of the Emerald Buddha which houses a deceivingly (for all the adulation it receives) diminutive sitting Buddha that’s actually carved from jade but looks like emerald, hence the name. Inside the temple is an equally ornate interior with Sistine Chapel-like detail painted on every interior surface and the emerald Buddha seated twenty feet above the temple floor on an elaborate throne. On the floor in front of the sacred Buddha was a temple floor packed with ardent worshippers serenely engaged in prayer and rhythmically bowing their praises toward the country’s most sacred symbol.

A few blocks away from the Grand Palace, I found an equally impressive spectacle in a Buddha that was as big as the Emerald Buddha was small. Measuring at least a hundred feet from head-to-toe and forty feet from arm-to-arm, the Reclining Buddha sits on a huge pedestal lying on its side, propped up on one arm like it‘s spending the day on a lounge next to a pool. It takes a full minute to walk from one end to the other and that’s without stopping for pictures. There’s only about one angle in the whole building where you can capture a photo of the full Buddha thanks to its size. While there’s not much else to see outside of the Reclining Buddha, it remarkable just for its sheer magnitude.

Equally remarkable was another Buddha slightly further away in an unremarkable building in the Chinatown section of Bangkok. The Golden Buddha is so named because it is literally made of gold. It‘s valued at something around $15 million by sheer weight alone although there‘s evidently speculation that it‘d be worth considerably more if melted down. More interesting is the fact that it was almost lost to the world forever. To avoid seizure of the fixture by the invading Burmese armies centuries ago, it was encased in inch-thick stucco clay to cover it’s true golden nature. The golden fixture that lay inside was evidently forgotten until about 50 years ago when it was knocked while being moved and a portion of the stucco chipped away revealing it’s more alluring golden shell.

But, it was a museum dedicated to an American that I found to be one of the most interesting sights in Bangkok. Jim Thompson was a CIA intelligence officer who came to Thailand shortly after World War II. He retired not too long after and opted to remain in Thailand, enamored with the country. The large estate that he built in authentic Thai style and construction - amazingly using no nails in his multi-room house - serves as the museum in his honor. But, Thompson‘s real contribution to Thailand, and the reason for the museum, is that he discovered Thailand‘s dormant and nearly abandoned silk producing artistry. He’s credited throughout Thailand for single-handedly resurrecting and fostering the Thai silk industry into the powerhouse that it remains today.

Unlike Jim Thompson, I don’t know that I’m ready to settle permanently in Bangkok (I can hear my mother sighing in relief). But, Bangkok’s heady mix of first world modernity, third world underpinnings, ornate and intriguing ancient temples and centuries old culture made it a worthy city to explore, especially as an initial entree into Southeast Asia.

BANGKOK PHOTO ALBUM: http://picasaweb.google.com/gscottie/Bangkok07

The Waiting Game

2007-02-27T00:43:00.002-05:00

I’m becoming more familiar with some of the world’s least appealing international airports than I’d like. As with Lima and Oahu (surprisingly unappealing considering the destination) before, I find myself with another twelve hour layover in a small airport lacking for significant distractions to occupy the time. This time the airport in question is Hanoi in northern Vietnam. I was here five days ago, leaving the city after exploring it for four days, as I made my way south to the town of Hoi An in the middle of the country.

But, I unwittingly scheduled my stay in Vietnam during the country’s most popular and lengthy holiday- ten days of celebrations - the Tet New Year, or lunar new year, which has seats on all modes of transportation booked solid throughout the celebration. So, my plan to book a train or plane ticket on the fly in Hoi An, in order to continue further south to Ho Chi Minh City (Saigon), was thwarted by the throngs of Vietnamese taking time out to visit their friends and relatives. I finally managed to score a plane ticket departing two days later than I wanted to leave Hoi An, which now has me flying north to Hanoi in order to head south to HCM City, with a ten hour layover to boot.

The layover gives me ample time, however, to catch up on this blog which is something I’ve obviously failed to do for quite some time now. Since my last update, I’ve visited the sprawling and unexpectedly modern city of Bangkok. From there I headed north to Chiang Mai, in Thailand's hill country for a brief misadventure (to be chronicled shortly) before spending a relaxing week on the tropical island of Ko Samui in southern Thailand. Tanned and relaxed, I ventured into Vietnam, starting in the capital of Hanoi in the north and a side trip on a junk boat plying the waters of karst-ladden Ha Long Bay. From there I moved on to the small town of Hoi An near the country’s central coast and will now wrap up my Vietnam tour with a brief, two-day stay in the country’s largest city, Ho Chi Minh City. Once Vietnam is complete at the end of the month, I‘ll kick off March in India, meeting a couple of friends in Mumbai (Bombay) for a three week tour of the subcontinent.

Australia Recommendations

2007-02-04T10:01:00.001-05:00

If you’ve been paying the least bit of attention to these blog entries, then you’ve noticed that I hold Australia in pretty high regard and it’s more than earned whatever praise I manage to heap onto it. Australia’s cities are modern, attractive and friendly. It’s numerous attractions are spectacular and one-of-a-kind. Plus, the Aussie’s are, to-a-person, one of the most outgoing, friendly and enjoyable peoples on the planet. Not to mention that the country-continent is just shy of being as big as the continental U.S. with a fraction of the population (20 million) providing plenty of places where you can spread out and find a nook of the country all for your own.

It’s a long trip from anywhere in the U.S., but definitely well worth the flight and one of the easier places to acclimate to thanks to a host of similarities between American and Australian cultures. Two weeks is just barely enough to get to see most of Australia’s highlights, so a longer stay is more than recommended if you can pull it off. To help in that regard, the following are just a few highlights and recommendations to consider for any trip Down Under.

SYDNEY

A trip to Australia could encompass just Sydney itself and be more than satisfying. There’s plenty to do within the city and some great places for day trips just outside it as well.

Sydney Harbour Bridge Climb - a great experience and a unique way to see Sydney and it’s iconic bridge
Opera House - an icon of the city for good reason and in one of the best locations between Circular Quay/The Rocks and The Domain/Botanical Gardens; also definitely worth taking a tour inside or even catching an opera even if you’re not into opera (I’m not either)
Circular Quay & The Rocks - the area directly between the Harbour Bridge and the Opera House filled with great restaurants and bars to eat outside and enjoy the view
Bondi Beach - Sydney’s famous city beach that’s about 10-15 minutes via train & bus from downtown; it’s a can’t miss beach with a picturesque location and good restaurants/bars
Bondi-to-Bronte (or Coogee) Walk - a paved walk along the jagged cliffs between Bondi and Bronte that’s a can’t miss if you’re in Bondi; the walk continues to Coogee which doubles the distance
Manly Beach/Ferry - the ferry ride alone is worth the trip as it plies the harbor for 30 minutes between the Opera House and Manly near The Heads where the harbor exits to the Pacific. Manly Beach has it’s own promenade, a wide beach and good bars not far from the ferry dock
Museum of Contemporary Art - for a free museum its worth the trip; located in The Rocks with modern artists on display varying from aboriginal art to the avant garde
Art Museum of New South Wales - near Wooloomooloo, an extensive collection of art from different areas of the world and very good special exhibits
Kuring-Gai Chase National Park - just 15 miles or so from downtown Sydney with excellent forest trails, water inlets and views of the neighboring shores from West Head
Blue Mountains - a short two-hour train ride or drive west of Sydney for a good getaway into the scenic Great Dividing Range
Darling Harbour/Cockle Bay Wharf - the epitome of the tourist area of Sydney, but for very good reason; Cockle Bay Wharf (east side of the harbor) has the best restaurants and bars
Watson’s Bay - a secluded area near South Head that’s reachable by an excellent ferry ride; it’s an easy walk to the South Head trail and some tiny, but nice beaches; a must is a beer and surf ‘n turf at Doyle’s on the bay
Botanic Gardens/The Domain & Hyde Park - a sprawling series of manicured parks in downtown with plenty of activities going on each weekend as if the grounds weren’t attraction enough
Glenferrie Lodge - could be one of the best guesthouse/lodges in Sydney; a great location, good size rooms and clean bathrooms; good, free breakfast and friendly staff; within walking, train or ferry distance of just about everything

MELBOURNE

Melbourne wasn't my favorite, but talking to other people I seem to be in the minority. While I wasn't bowled over by the city there were parts that I found to my liking enough to recommend.

Royal Botanic Gardens - one of the best attractions in Melbourne with lush, manicured parklands and ponds south of town
Federation Square - a funky collection of buildings with avant garde design and some good museums that inhabit the buildings
St. Kilda - beach side town south of downtown with plenty of good outdoor restaurants and shops
George St Mall - the main shopping district downtown with a pedestrian mall that shouldn’t be missed

BRISBANE

Brisbane is a hidden gem as far as cities go in Australia and it's spot between the Gold Coast and Sunshine Coast makes it an ideal base for excursions in both directions.

Southbank - one of the best sections of the city just south of downtown along the river with good outdoor cafes & restaurants, parks and even a beach
New Farm - an up & coming part of town with new construction aplenty and good restaurants and bars
Queen St Mall - the centerpiece of downtown Brisbane with plenty of shops and restaurants, but exploring the surrounding streets provides even better options
Brisbane River Bike/Walk Paths - miles of excellent, scenic walking paths along the river that stretch from one end of the city to the other

BYRON BAY

My guidebook led me astray and I opted for another inferior beach town south of Byron Bay. When my bus passed through Byron on the way to Brisbane I immediately regretted the decision and cursed the guidebook. Don't make the same mistake. Head to Byron if you get the chance. It's one of the best beach towns in Australia with plenty of good restaurants, bars and shops and fantastic beaches as was confirmed by my 15 minute ride through the town as well as numerous people I met after I'd already made the mistake.

GEAR SHOPS

As would be expected, Australia has plenty of options for purchasing gear after you arrive. In many cases I found it to be cheaper than if I brought it from the U.S. (at least the same price at the very least).

Kent St (between Bathurst & Druitt) - essentially 'outdoor outfitter row' with more than a half dozen outdoor outfitters and sporting good shops to provide gear for any trip throughout Australia (recommend Paddy Pallin and Kathmandu) or anywhere else
Rebel Sport (Pitt St) - a sporting goods store chain that’s useful for more of the common, everyday sporting equipment & supplies

INTERNET CAFES

There are a plethora of Internet cafes generally everywhere in Australia, but I found one that had branches in most of the cities I visited.

Global Gossip - Internet cafe chain with branches throughout Australia and New Zealand. Good equipment, low rates, knowledgeable staff and also private phone booths for overseas calls

Spectacular Sydney

2007-02-04T09:59:00.001-05:00

Cities don’t come much better than Sydney. I learned that much during my first visit here and it still holds true six years later. It’s one of the planet’s true world-class cities, if not squarely at the top of the list. It’s perfect climate, superb setting, top flight attractions, thriving cultural and night life, and incredibly friendly populace make it tough to beat elsewhere in the world as a place to visit, as well live.

I’ve now spent nearly four combined months in Sydney during my two trips to Australia over the last six years and I could certainly spend another few years here and never tire of the city. Actually, that’s an idea worth more than just a passing thought and perhaps one day I‘ll see it through to fruition. But, for my last week in Sydney, I decided to settle for just a taste of life as a permanent resident by putting down the camera, backpack, and sightseeing agenda to try to experience life more as a local than a tourist.

The experiment bore more than enough fruit, helped in no small part to the guesthouse I found in the fairly quiet residential neighborhood of Kirribilli directly across the harbor from the Opera House. While just minutes via ferry or train from downtown Sydney, it feels like its eons away from the well-trodden tourist path (which isn’t necessarily a bad path to tread). In Kirribilli I found local restaurants to sample and mixed in with Sydneysiders enjoying a normal night out away from the frenzy of places like Darling Harbour or Circular Quay. I shopped in the local stores, sampled the very tasty and fresh wares from local bakeries and even found myself a deli market to shop from regularly as I might if I lived in the area. One of the daily highlights was riding the ferry to and from downtown Sydney as it left Kirribilli which passes in front of the Opera House, alongside the Harbour Bridge and docks on Circular Quay in downtown Sydney. If you live in Kirribilli and work in Sydney it has to be the world’s best commute.

But, I didn’t restrict my daily jaunts to just Kirribilli. I made my way into Sydney proper and made an effort to steer away from the places I’d been before to find new sections of the city such as Balmain, a yuppie-bohemian style area within shouting distance of downtown, but far enough for the locals to have it almost to themselves. There was also Paddington and Surrey Hills, both with a slew of local shops, restaurants and artist showcases that seem prime to be ‘discovered’ (and they have been to some extent), but quite content to be supported by the local denizens for the time being.

Despite my best efforts, I still couldn’t keep away from some of the typical tourist locations and ultimately I decided it was for good reason. Places like the Botanical Gardens, Harbour Bridge, Opera House and Darling Harbour aren‘t popular without good reason and they are as much a part of an experience in Sydney as the more secluded locals areas. But, my lack of agenda for the week let me just enjoy them as a local might - as a fantastic backdrop to an otherwise normal day living in one of the best cities in the world.

SYDNEY PHOTOS: http://picasaweb.google.com/gscottie/Sydney0607

Tennis Anyone?

2007-01-31T13:10:00.001-05:00

On my last night in Sydney, I found myself in front of the Sydney Opera House along the harbor. But, I wasn’t there for one last nostalgic look at the beautifully designed Opera House, or even an opera. Instead, I came for a tennis match.

My last night on the continent happened to coincide with the men’s championship of the Australian Open. While the tournament takes place a thousand miles south in Melbourne, tournament sponsor American Express erected a Jumbotron in front of the Opera House steps to bring the tournament to life in Sydney. They also set up a two-story hospitality suite and VIP viewing section for card members.

Since I happen to be a card member, I thought I'd take advantage of the free hospitality suite. While it was nice to enjoy a hospitality suite without feeling ultimately responsible for it somehow (a.k.a. my former work life), I was drawn out of the suite almost as quickly as I found myself in it. As hospitality suites can often do, it isolated me from the raucous crowd outside of over a thousand people who’d gathered on the Opera House steps to take in the match on the big screen.

However, the crowd was more than just random passersby who randomly decided to catch part of the match. This crowd had gathered for a purpose. Rather, two purposes. Decked out in Swiss and Chilean flags and painted faces, with patriotic chants to accompany them, half were there to support their Swiss champion, Roger Federer, while the other half were there to emphatically cheer on their burgeoning Chilean star, Fernando Gonzalez.

I might as well have bought a ticket to the match itself as my perch on the steps had all the elements of being live in Melbourne. Plus, the Jumbotron had a better view than any ticket I likely could’ve afforded. I found a place on the steps and watched the three set match amongst the throngs who cheered every ace, volley and point like it was happening on a court directly in front of them. Long rallies sent the crowd into frenzied cheers and applause, while questionable line calls for their respective players were met with disapproving boos, as though their disapproval might actually affect the call. The Chileans chanted Gonzalez’s name repeatedly and sang their national anthem with equal frequency while the Swiss cheered surprisingly loudly, they are Swiss afterall, for Federer though not quite matching the Chileans fervor.

But, both sides seemed to believe that their boisterous support from Sydney could somehow carry through the television and into Rod Laver Arena in Melbourne. I ultimately found myself enthralled with the match despite not having nearly the vested interest of the rest of the crowd. If anything, it was the crowd itself and the experience they created within which I had a vested interest. I also found myself with a new found interest to visit Chile as soon as possible.

When Federer ultimately prevailed at the end of the match, not a person moved as they waited even for the trophy presentation ceremony. Throughout both player's remarks, the crowd on the Opera House steps applauded in unison with those in down in Melbourne. When the telecast ended, the crowd dispersed, but chants from the Swiss and Chileans continued down Circular Quay, past the ferries and trains, and out into the city as they made their way home.

What started out as just taking advantage of some free hospitality, turned into one of my more memorable experiences in Sydney and Australia. While I’ll be lucky to remember who won, let alone who played, I’ll be hard pressed to forget my first visit to the Australian Open on the steps of the Sydney Opera House.

Hooked

2007-01-31T11:25:00.001-05:00

From Sydney '06-'07

I stood in the chest-deep, frothy warm water off Bondi Beach and scouted the horizon behind me. As low tide began to give way to high tide, the waves were breaking unusually high and strong for Bondi. It was a struggle just to make it through the riptides and breaking waves to get to the sand bar I was semi-standing/floating on about 75 feet off the beach. My muscles screamed from the effort it took just to stay in one place so I could keep my eye on the breaking waves behind me.

Finally, I picked out a good looking wave, watched it break, and kept my eye trained on the rush of whitewater streaming toward me in the aftermath of the wave’s collapse. About 10ft before it hit, I turned toward the shore, laid down on my board and began to paddle my heart out. Turning my head back, I saw the bulge of water just about to hit my feet and paddled even harder. Suddenly, the wave picked up my board and me with it, sending us both flying toward the shore. I grabbed both sides of the board just to try to hang on and dismissed the thought of attempting to stand up. Then, I inexplicably decided to give it a go anyway. But, my clumsy attempt to climb on top of the board instead sent it flying in one direction and me in the other. It also sent about five gallons of salt water directly into my lungs, a taste that wouldn’t leave me for the rest of the day.

So began my first foray into surfing. I have no explanation for why I waited until my last full day of a two month stay in Australia to finally take a lesson. But, the wait was worth it as the perfect blue, cloudless sky and unusually big waves proved out. Of course, the excellent weekend weather also brought a bigger crowd to the beach than normal, which was a more than intimidating environment in which to try to surf for the first time. If my ill-fitting wet suit wasn’t a dead giveaway that I was a novice, then my steady stream of blooper-reel quality wipeouts gave the onlookers the best clue for who to watch for some free amusement. Adding fuel to the fire was the fact that while providing some initial training on the beach, my instructor had to repeatedly point out that there would be no sand to support the foot I kept placing on the beach when we were practicing standing up on the board ("You need to place your foot directly on the board," he said repeatedly).

But, once I was out in the water with the dozen others in my instructing class, the waves were the only focus of my attention. Obviously, we weren’t learning on the big breaking waves that experienced surfers ride. Instead, we waited until the waves broke then road the surge that continues after the waves collapse. In the high surf and strong waves, those were still sizable mounds of water with more than enough force to send me flying uncontrollably toward the shore each time. My goal was to stand up at least once in the two hour session. I’d managed to figure out how to catch the wave and ride it out, laying down of course. But, standing up was a completely different issue and I failed to come remotely close to standing atop the somewhat unwieldy piece of foam.

About an hour and a half into the lesson, the stars (and waves) aligned. I found a broken wave with my name on it, jumped onto my surfboard and paddled furiously. The wave caught the board and pushed me swiftly toward the beach. I brought up my back foot, steadied myself and then brought my front foot forward managing to stay on the board. I pushed myself up and threw out my arms to balance myself as I stood awkwardly crouched on top of the board - but standing no less. For five seconds I got a taste of the exhilarating sensation of riding a wave, small as it might have been. Much like hitting that one good stroke in an otherwise miserable round of golf, it was all I needed to get hooked.

I didn’t manage to stand up again for the rest of the session despite my best efforts at a repeat. But, the one time was all I needed to leave the beach fully satisfied and hungry for more. As I trade Australia for Thailand, I’m more eager than ever to get back to the beach. I’ll no longer be satisfied to just stand on the sand and admire the crashing waves. Now, I’ve got a new obsession which will hopefully one day soon find me watching the beach again from atop a crashing wave as it heads toward shore.

Through The Fire

2007-01-29T09:08:00.001-05:00

About ten days ago I had the pleasure of exploring the Kuring-Gai National Park about 20 miles north of Sydney. For being so close to Sydney, its an expansive and impressive national parkland encompassing dense, mountainous forests scattered with aboriginal rock paintings and surrounded by inlet waterways formed by the confluence of the Hawkesbury River and Pacific Ocean on the northern edge of the park. I made the trip on the way up to the Hunter Valley, spending just a couple quick hours driving through the park and promising to return for further exploration before I left Sydney for good.

A few days ago, I had the unfortunate experience to find myself back near Kuring-Gai National Park only to watch it being consumed by a raging bush fire.

My train from Brisbane was stopped about two hours shy of completing its fifteen hour journey back to Sydney. We were advised that three large bush fires had erupted during the day causing the complete closure of all train lines as well as the major highway running north from the city. The sudden fires had engulfed the area in smoke and fire rendering them impassable. I was ushered onto a bus with my fellow passengers to attempt to make the final leg of the journey to Sydney through country back roads around the fires. But, with the highway closed traffic soon came to a standstill on the tiny roads with thousands of automobiles attempting to take the same circuitous route. For more than two hours our bus moved no more than a kilometer an hour.

Four hours later, within just 30 miles of Sydney, the pitch black sky began to glow red in spots on the horizon indicating where the fires were burning as well as their near proximity to our route. As we traversed the peaks of the undulating roadway, we began to glimpse startling views of the fires just a few miles away. Even in the darkness, the outline of large plumes of smoke were obvious as they stretched across the sky. A little closer to Sydney, and much closer to Kuring-Gai, a dozen or so fellow passengers began fits of coughing as the distinct odor of burning timber began to filter into the bus's ventilation system.

As we reached the fringe of the city, I looked out my window to see a sign indicating the train station for Kuring-Gai National Park which was just a few hundred feet beyond. As we passed the station, the image of bright red flames stretched out in a circle for miles all the way to the horizon with the closest edge just a few hundred yards from the street on which we were traveling hit home. The direction of the wind helped weary firefighters keep the smoke and embers at bay allowing the the flow of traffic to pass safely towards the city. But, as we passed, I could see the flames engulfing the beautiful landscape I'd been fortunate to see just a few days prior.

Unfortunately, for the next few days the firefighters came out on the losing end of a battle to keep the flames at bay as they refused to extinguish despite an all-out effort. The highways and train lines remained closed for over 48 hours until just a few days ago when the fire crews finally gained control of the blazes. But, not before a significant portion of the Kuring-Gai had burned.

As the height of summer begins in Australia, the risk of similar fires is unfortunately far from over. That danger is more critical this year than ever as the country suffers from the worst drought in the nation's history making conditions ripe to go ablaze with the slightest spark. Massive bush fires have already burned out a major swath of land and homes just north of Melbourne, searing hundreds of miles along the way. Now, it seems the area around Sydney may be ripe for suffering the same fate and its already taken it's first victim in one of the area's best natural attractions.

The Pendulum Swings

2007-01-24T09:15:00.001-05:00

Last week I spent six days at an idyllic beach about eight hours north of Sydney with a mile of silky sand nearly all my own. I then spent two days in the city of Brisbane and its the latter that I'm going to write about because I enjoyed it the most. Seems that just a few weeks ago, I struggled to chronicle my exploration of any city, more comfortable writing about places further afield. My, how the pendulum swings.

From Coff's Harbou...

From Brisbane '07

Actually, it hasn't swung quite that far. I’m still far more inclined to find my way outside of most cities (save Sydney) and explore the countryside, but the small town of Coff’s Harbor lacked much else worth chronicling other than it’s excellent beaches. A few paragraphs about the quality of the sand or the shape of the crashing waves would undoubtedly make for dull reading. Thus, the unexpectedly exceptional city of Brisbane will get the focus of this post, and not undeservedly so.

Brisbane is billed as Australia's most liveable city, and after just two days of exploring I’d be hard pressed to disagree, although I could definitely make the case for Sydney. It’s as if Brisbane took notes on its larger sister cities to the south and then patterned itself after just their best parts. The end result is a beautiful city with a sleek skyline, great neighborhoods, and a fantastic waterfront area all in a place that’s remarkably easy to get around despite not feeling all that small. Brisbane’s almost two million inhabitants are nestled midway between the fabled Gold Coast to the south and the equally fabled Sunshine Coast to the north. As such, there are far worse fates than to find yourself living in Brisbane.

The city is centered about eight miles inland from the ocean, along the shores of the Brisbane River which leads out to the Pacific. Brisbane makes great use of it’s river shoreline with it’s downtown on the river’s edge and superb parks, museums and neighborhoods stretched out along the length of the twisting waters. A terrific walking/bike path stretches for miles up and down the river also making for a great way to take in some of the city’s best sights.

I opted for the walking path for most of my two days of exploration, but I also found that one of the best ways to see the city is via the inexpensive river cat ferry. The speedy ferry plies the waters up and down the river going to the far edges of the metro area providinhg a great tour of the million dollar homes that tastefully line the riverfront as well as the many attractive bridges that span the shores. The ride up or down the river also gives a greater understanding of the city's expanse and its many pleasant neighborhoods.

Downtown Brisbane is as pleasant an urban center as you could hope to find. It's clean, well laid out and remarkably scenic with wide, airy streets and sleek modern buildings. The central point is the Queen Street pedestrian mall with its requisite shops and restaurants, but there is plenty more to see on the surrounding streets with a mix of historic buildings, monuments, museums and botanical gardens infiltrating the shopping and business zones.

Just outside of the central business district, lie a number of welcoming neighborhoods that accent each other well. It's remarkably easy to get from one neighborhood to the other on foot, making Brisbane a city where you can easily sample its many tastes in just a day or two. One morning I began my day in the funky bohemian enclave of Fortitude Valley with thrift shops and flea markets standing next to chic designer storefronts. A short walk later, I found myself in stylish Spring Hill neighborhood, home to welcoming cafes and tree lined streets.

By mid-afternoon, I followed a bridge across the river to Southbank, a neighborhood nestled along the river's edge directly across from downtown. If there's ever a case for urban development done right, Southbank is probably it. The half-mile long area along the riverfront is lined with big, leafy trees and dense gardens that nearly obscure the buildings across the water. In the middle of the parkland is a construction of sand and pools (supposedly the only riverside beach in Australia) that looks far from it's man-made origins and a long way from any similar water park construction. A few blocks inland, I found Southbank's strip of enticing, open air restaurants capped by a row of first-class museums.

By the time daylight was winding down, I took the river cat ferry to the eastern edge of town to visit the New Farm neighborhood. New Farm seemed like a quiet neighborhood that's recently been 'discovered' and had all the new construction and shiny new eateries to show for it. New Farm's location on a bend in the river provides it with the distinction of having two of its borders surrounded by the river. I made the beeline between the two shores and then followed the walking path along the river back to downtown just as Brisbane's skyscrapers were lighting up for the night and as the setting sun illuminated them from behind.

Due to my short stay, I didn’t get a chance to explore the Gold or Sunshine Coasts to the north or south of Brisbane which is a shame because it’s said to be some of the finest shoreline in all of Australia. But, exploring Brisbane was well worth visiting on its own for two brief days. It whet my appetite to return one day and make sure that I carve out some time to explore those outlying shorelines as well.

BRISBANE PHOTOS: http://picasaweb.google.com/gscottie/Brisbane07
COFF'S HARBOUR PHOTOS: http://picasaweb.google.com/gscottie/CoffSHarbour07

The Hunter

2007-01-23T01:43:00.001-05:00

I've spent the last six weeks traveling around Australia mostly via train. While a great way to see the varied landscape on the eastern half of the country, a couple of non-stop twelve hour hauls can make you long for the freedom of exploring by car. So, with the Hunter Valley just two hours drive from Sydney and not easily reachable by train, I opted for a rare indulgence in a rental car and the opportunity to give my lead foot an overdue workout while exploring one of Australia’s wine regions.

As seems to be the case with any wine country that I’ve been to, the ride out was scenic enough on its own to make the trip worthwhile. The route to the Hunter Valley wound through scenic river valleys and the northeastern fringe of the Blue Mountains along a few twisting back country roads that provided a much needed horsepower fix. After reaching the Hunter Valley, I took a drive around to scout out wineries for the next days' sampling and was surprised to find that the region was fairly compact. Dozens of wineries were lined up all within no more than 30 minutes drive in any direction of my guesthouse.

From The Hunter Va...

The next morning I awoke to begin exploring the dozen wineries I’d selected for sampling. Within a few moments of stepping out of the guesthouse, I discovered a unique characteristic of the Hunter Valley that I hadn’t experienced in other wine regions. The Hunter Valley gets hot - very hot. The temperature was easily 85F by mid morning and hovered around 90F most of the day.

As I learned during my tasting tour, the climate plays a big role in which grapes can be grown in the area, thus dictating which wines are produced by the Hunter region. Chardonnay and another white, Semilion, which I hadn’t tried before, are the area’s main product. While not a usual white drinker, the majority I sampled tasted very good. Merlot and Shiraz also thrive in the warm conditions, although I found most of those to be a bit lacking compared to what I was used to drinking in that style. The Margaret River Valley in South Australia, a more heralded wine region of Australia, seems to produce the best reds, but it was still interesting to try Hunter’s versions for comparison since Merlot and Shiraz are two of my standard wine choices.

The wineries themselves provided even more variety than the wine styles. Few opted for the standard wine estate look, instead most had a feeling of a ranches whose crop just happened to be grapes and wine instead of other produce or cattle and the ranch houses serving as tasting rooms. Each had its own character and style and the staff were more than willing to provide information and background on the wines and the area which I found immensely helpful to better enjoy the experience. A few embraced a more chic style with ultra modern design that seemed a little out of place in the laid back area but didn‘t seem to affect their popularity. Very few, if any, seemed like they were out to conquer the world with most seemingly happy with whatever level of business they currently enjoyed.

At most wineries I usually found just one wine that I liked, white or red. But at my favorite winery, Tulloch, I enjoyed all the wines sampled as they seemed to match my taste buds well. Unfortunately, as I found to be the case with most of the wineries in the Hunter Valley, Tulloch doesn’t export to the US so I had to settle for a few extra swishes around my cheeks before depositing the sample in the nearest spittoon. Toting a couple bottles in my bag for the next few months didn’t seem to be a viable option.

I made ample use of the spittoon during my day driving myself around sampling wines. But, I was glad to have booked a second night at my guesthouse to sleep away any possible effects the couple sips of wine that found their way down my throat could’ve had. It also gave me the opportunity to take a detour through the Blue Mountains on a long, twisty and scenic back country road on my way back to Sydney the next day. One last workout to satiate my lead foot for the next few months.

HUNTER VALLEY & BLUE MOUNTAINS PHOTOS: http://picasaweb.google.com/gscottie/TheHunterValleyTheBlueMountains07

The Olympic Village Goes Condo

2007-01-22T20:58:00.001-05:00

From Sydney Olympi...

While Sydney returned to post-New Year's normalcy, I decided to take a trip down memory lane. I actually knew better than to try to relive the experiences from my two months spent in Sydney during the 2000 Olympic Games. But, I was curious to see what had become of the place, after billions of dollars were spent constructing it, now that the attentions of the world had long since focused elsewhere.

Exiting the train station, as I'd done a few hundreds times before, I was happy to find the Olympic Park similar to the way I've recalled it over the last six years. Unlike perhaps any other host city, Sydney chose to build the majority of it's sporting facilities for the games in one massive complex. The impressive facility boasts no less than a dozen world class facilities including the Olympic stadium, a full tennis complex, two indoor arenas, a baseball stadium and an aquatic complex. That's not including the equally massive athlete village next door complete with its own athlete only shopping center and cafeteria.

The facilities continue to be used heavily for international and national events which seems to bode well for the complex as the many facilities continue to live up to their Olympic pedigree. Likewise, the grounds have maintained their immaculate landscaping which continues to enhance the venue. Anyone visiting the Olympic Park today can still get a sense of what it was like to attend the games there. That's helped by a few new installations found around the complex that attempt to recreate portions of the Olympic experience. Although I did find one of those installations a bit ironic. The former Olympic cauldron that held the Olympic flame high above the stadium has been removed from it's lofty perch and converted into, of all things, a water fountain in a park across from the stadium.

Otherwise, I was pleased to find that my memory had not failed me over the years and many of the details were as I remembered them. Although, that doesn't mean I remembered everything. Walking through the tennis center, I suddenly realized that I'd watched Monica Seles cruise through a quarter final match on her way to a bronze medal, something I'd long since forgotten. I'd also forgotten just how large the area is despite the tightly packed facilities. It took me nearly half an hour just to walk from one end to the other despite the opposite end looking like it was just a few minutes walk the entire time.

But, my visit to the athlete village provided the most interesting discovery. It seems the Olympic Village has gone condo. The village was made up of hundreds of small homes and apartments spread out like a subdivision. Each house, as I found out through personal inspection, sheltered about ten athletes in two or three rooms making for pleasant although slightly cramped quarters. The individual apartments were provided to the top tier athletes to provide a little more space and privacy. I was under the impression that the village was going to be converted to low income housing post-games. But, it's gone in the decidedly opposite direction.

The apartments are now condos with security gates, manicured parks and designer furniture. The homes now house upper middle class families of four with a couple new cars in each drive way and a brand new paint job on every house. While I was there in 2000, IBM hosted an internet Surf Shack for the athlete's in the village, which I staffed from time to time (my main assignment was at a city facility downtown). But, my search for the former surf shack location ended in the produce section of the supermarket that now occupies that space, next to a Blockbuster and Krispy Kreme.

While I was pleased to find that the site of the 'best games ever' hasn't lost much of it's Olympic glory, it was lacking one thing. It was a few million people short of recreating the energy that pulsated throughout the area and the city over a half decade ago. For that, I'll just have to rely on my memories.

OLYMPIC PARK PHOTOS: http://picasaweb.google.com/gscottie/SydneyOlympicPark07

The Red Center

2007-01-14T08:31:00.001-05:00

“It’s just a big rock in the middle of nowhere.” I heard that notion from a number of people who’d visited Uluru (Ayer’s Rock) before I came down to Australia. But, I arrived with an open mind only to find that those people weren’t too far off. Uluru is pretty much all by itself in the middle of the outback and just a little west and south of being the center of the country. Outside of one other rock formation, Kata Tjuta, 30 miles away, Uluru is the only aberration for hundreds of miles in the flat, desolate outback. But, it is a unique natural wonder that’s as formidable looking from a few miles away as it is a few feet away.

From Uluru (Ayer's...

A close up inspection is required to really appreciate Uluru. It’s really a small mountain that’s about 2.5 miles around with more of that distance being width versus depth. From a distance it looks a bit like a giant closed fist placed on the ground, but close up it reveals a more complex design with a surface that undulates vertically as well as horizontally. The standard postcard view hides a number of side canyons, eroded pock-marked caves and small water holes spaced around the landmass. The surface is unexpectedly smooth which Uluru owes to its composition from layers of sand compressed beneath the surface for millions of years until it was pushed above ground (about 80% of it remains below ground) to let thousands of years of rain and wind continue the shaping and polishing. In fact, you can sometimes see the lines delineating each layer as they run vertically (Uluru shifted on it’s side when pushed above ground) up the rock face. You can also see a few darkened streaks of rock marking where rainwater funnels down creases in the surface, on the rare occasions when it does rain, to form waterholes at the base. Some of those waterholes remain viable throughout the year providing needed hydration to the surprising number of thriving trees that hide in the side canyons near the water sources.

Uluru is also one of the most sacred spots on earth to Aborigines. As such, sections of Uluru are off limits to the public in terms of treading on or in them, but most are usually still viewable from a reasonable distance. Oddly, there is a climbing trail that leads up the mountain (seemingly difficult given the rocks smoothness eliminating natural areas for grip) which you can climb if you choose. But, just about every tour, signpost or piece of literature for Uluru pleads for visitors to respect Aboriginal wishes and not climb it. It would seem more cost-effective to save the cost spent on discouragement and forbid climbing altogether. At Uluru’s base, however, there are aboriginal paintings and carvings that you are encouraged to experience. I found one along the southern edge in a side canyon at a waterhole that’s considered an important site in Aboriginal lore. The rock paintings and carvings depict a regular pilgrimage to Uluru to pay tribute to a sacred serpent that lives in the waterhole and plays a role in the cycle of life and death.

But, I wasn’t up for such a pilgrimage, not one for tempting the cycle of life and death in the middle of a desert with the temperature hovering around 100F. So, I made a shorter journey back to my air conditioned shuttle bus which took me to the sunset viewing point where I’d be in prime position to observe Uluru light up in its classic red hues by the setting sun. Unfortunately, clouds rolled in and spoiled the party so the light show never materialized. Thus, I was left to enjoy Uluru in all its solemn brownness.

Unfortunately, once you’ve seen Uluru, there’s not much else to do. That can make life doubly tedious when you’ve chosen to camp out in one of the most inhospitable climates on the planet…in the middle of summer. The choice to camp out seemed reasonable enough from the cooler confines of Sydney, especially when I found that the cheapest room for hundreds of miles around Uluru was going for $150/night which was a long way from my budget parameters. Around 2pm each afternoon the temperature soared above 105F and my tent became a convection oven. Suddenly parting with $150/night seemed a much less difficult proposition. Luckily, my campground was part of a larger resort complex and I managed to find refuge in the nearby air-conditioned hotel lobbies, although I had to endure the questioning glare of front desk staff wondering who the big, sweaty guy was lounging on the lobby sofa and whether they should call security. Luckily, the temperature dropped about 20F at night making sleep reasonably tolerable. For a guy who hasn’t camped out in decades, I ended up managing just fine. If nothing else, I got a taste of life in the outback - one that will satiate any desire for a similar experience for some time to come.

Although it’s somewhat true that Uluru is a big rock in the middle of nowhere, I found my trip to Uluru worthwhile if for no other reason than to explore an interesting piece of geology and get a taste of the outback. But, one visit to the Red Center seems to be enough and I can now cross it off my ‘gotta see it’ list and focus my attention on getting to some of the other natural marvels elsewhere in the world.

ULURU PHOTOS: http://picasaweb.google.com/gscottie/UluruAyerSRock06