Around the World

Egypt: Cairo

2007-06-01T03:11:00.000-07:00

"Holy crap, I'm in The Middle East..." That was my, very mature, first thought upon arrival at the airport in Bahrain. After coming from the lands of bare feet, shorts, and t-shirts, I was now walking past women wearing "abayas" and men in "dishdashahs" (dress-like garments that cover the body from the shoulders down to the feet). Luckily, I had chosen my most conservative looking outfit for the flight, however, having packed for "summer weather", my most conservative outfit consisted of capris and a t-shirt, so I felt a bit like a street-walker with my now four inch roots (tough to travel for long periods of time with highlights) and outfit, compared to the ladies in the scarves covering their hair, "hajabs", and sometimes even faces (leaving only their eyes showing).

After another four hour flight from Bahrain to Egypt (twelve hour travel time, in total, from Cambodia) I arrived in Cairo at 2:10 a.m. Luckily, I had obtained an Egyptian visa in Sydney as apparently there are "no guarantees" that the visa office will be open at the airport, and was taken by van to the Indiana Hotel in the center of Cairo.

I had the entire next day to myself, before joining the eight-day tour and group, the following day. While wondering the streets of Cairo, trying to find The Sheraton where it was recommended to change your currency, an Egyptian guy named Mohammad (it seems as though 98% of men in Egypt are named Mohammad or Ali - which is what we were also told by the locals - but I'm not sure if it is just to make it easier on the tourists, as in Bali where all the women told me their names were Debbie, Linda, Barbara, etc.). Mohammad gave me directions to the Sheraton and then asked what I had planned for the day. He took me over to his shop, a family owned business (the family unit is extremely important in Egypt and most families are fairly large and live close to each other) selling papyrus, essence, and various tourist souvenirs. He told me their business also gives tourists rides to some of the pyramids and sights around Giza. After agreeing on a price for a driver to take me around Giza for the day ($20) I told Mohammad I would be back after some breakfast. He told me to wait and pushed a small button on the wall next to him. A few seconds later, a young guy appeared at the door and after Mohammad asked me how hungry I was, he said something in Egyptian to the young guy who then nodded, left, and then returned a few minutes later carrying two small bags, which he then handed to me. Inside, was the typical Egyptian breakfast: fallafel and re fried beans inside a pita. Mohammad then asked me what I would like to drink, and again pushed the button on the wall and the young guy appeared with a Diet Coke. When I asked how much I owed for the breakfast, Mohammad told me, "No! This is Egyptian hospitality!" This is honestly how it works in Egypt. Everywhere you go, you are offered a drink of tea, coffee, soda, etc. and it is all chalked up to Egyptian hospitality, regardless of whether you buy something or not. After breakfast, an older man drove up to the shop to pick me up. He was, of course, a cousin of Mohammad and would be my driver for the day.

Driving down the freeways in Cairo was definitely a unique experience. You can see the pyramids of Giza in the distance, close to the city, and all of the "residential" buildings you pass look like unfinished warehouses. We later learned from our tour guide that the outsides of the buildings look as though they are unfinished but the insides are really quite nice and very much complete. Apparently, this is due to the fact that the government imposes high taxes on those living in the building once it is complete, but if it is unfinished, there are no taxes imposed - so much of Cairo appears to be buildings under development when in actuality they will remain unfinished in appearance, to beat the tax laws.

While driving along the freeway at 75 mph, you are also passing men riding in carts pulled by donkeys... It was absolutely crazy to be sharing an eight lane freeway with donkey-drawn carts carrying watermelons, peaches, herbs, etc.

Our first stop for the day, was a gold and silver shop / factory. The merchant at the shop explained what each letter of my name means in hieroglyphics and I had a "cartouche" (an oblong enclosure sort of oval in shape that used to indicate that the text inside is a royal name, but is now used in necklaces, key chains, etc.) made with my name inscribed inside. I asked to watch it being made and the picture (left) is from inside the factory.

Our next stop was a museum that housed a giant sculpture of Ramses II (one of, if not the most, famous Pharaohs in Egypt). Before getting out of the car, at every stop, my driver would tell me not to talk to anyone or let them tell me anything about where I was visiting because afterwards they would then tell me I needed to give them money (apparently some men stand around the sites acting as tour guides and pray on people walking alone - of which there were very few - and begin following people around telling them about the site, only to afterwards demand to be paid) so I was slightly nervous when the police officer with a machine gun on his back - all of the police where the same white uniform and have a machine gun slung over their shoulder (pictured left) - beckoned for me to come over to him. I hesitated, but he kept telling me to come forward and then, after asking where I was from, asked to shake my hand. With a fully extended arm (so I didn't have to get too close) I shook his hand, only to then be asked for $1 (while he was still holding my hand). I was slightly shocked to be being asked this by a police officer, one holding a machine gun no less, and I pretended to "not really get" what he meant as I backed away (I only had a $20 bill that I had to keep as a departure tax that must be paid in USD when leaving the country and I was not about to get into a discussion about currency exchange with a man holding a gun).

The next stop was a carpet school. There are many carpet schools around Cairo as the Egyptian government, in an effort to keep alive tradition as well as create more jobs for young people in particular, has played a big role in setting up programs for children to go from school to work in the carpet warehouses learning how to make the silk and wool carpets while also earning wages and helping to support their families. It is amazing how quickly they work with each knot being done by hand and even a small section taking a few months to complete due to how tightly they weave the carpets.

After carpet school, and prayer time for my driver (80% of Egypt is Muslim, which means the speakers calling to prayer go off five times a day and many of the men have what appear to be welts on their forehead from the amount of time their heads touch the ground in prayer), we headed to The Step Pyramid of Djoser at Saqqara, which rises to a height of around 197 feet and noted for many reasons, most namely the use of limestone being utilized for the first time on a large scale as a construction material, and it is thought that this was the first time the idea of a royal tomb in the form of a pyramid was first employed.

After returning to Cairo, Mohammad took me to lunch a local cafe where the menu was written entirely in Arabic and I was given more than a few stares considering I was both the only "Western" person in the place, but also the only woman. After asking me how hungry I was, the waiter brought me a huge bowl of "koushrey" (a traditional Egyptian dish of pasta, beans, marinara sauce, topped with bacon), which I then needed to walk off and decided to take a walk along The Nile, through the center of Cairo. I again received several stares, considering that I was wearing a tank top and shorts, and walking alone, compared to the few other women I saw on the streets and who were wearing the long dress-garments and scarves covering their heads and faces.

That night, back at the Hotel Indiana, I met the tour group and my roommate, Amy, an incredibly sweet Aussie girl my age who had been living and working in London for the past year and was taking some time to travel, as well. The rest of the group consisted of: Yanel and Ange (Aussie couple); Sarah and Andy(Scottish couple); Jody and Michelle (two friends from New Zealand); Tony, Simon, and Andy (three British friends), and Mark (American - and our comic relief on the tour as he was constantly in a state of panic about not being in a "westernized" place and kept asking questions like, "If I go outside right now, am I going to die?" in all seriousness...) and our tour guide, Rafike.

We had two full days in Cairo, beginning with a visit to the oldest section of Cairo, known as "Coptic Cairo", where three of the four, what are considered today the "major religions of the modern world: Christianity, Hinduism, Islam, and Judaism" are represented with a church (Christianity), mosque (Islam), and Synagogue (Judaism)

We next headed to the market - busy alleyways lined with shops selling water pipes, belly-dancing outfits, gold, silver, carpets, etc. There was an enormous mosque near the entrance to the market, so at 5:00 prayer, it became complete chaos with men leaving the mosque and tourists coming in and out of the market. Mark (the other American in our group) managed to buy a stuffed camel and ask our guide, "Why are there Egyptian people who aren't selling things, walking around the market?"... I am serious... he asked this. Our guide responded by saying, "Isn't it like that in the U.S.? People walk around wearing clothes and buying things, etc.?" in a very sarcastic tone. If it wasn't so hilarious a question and response, I would have been more embarrassed that we were sharing "American representation" in the group.

Our last day in Cairo, we had an early start to get to the Pyramids at Giza and The Sphinx. The Great Pyramid at Giza is one of the seven wonders of the ancient world (it is actually the oldest, and only remaining member of the seven ancient wonders), and absolutely incredible to behold. It's sheer size was overpowering. It is believed to have been completed over a 20 year period of time, finishing in the year 2560 B.C. While standing in awe at the base of the pyramid, there was a sudden chase between an Egyptian police officer and a local man selling camel rides. They were both on camels and neither Amy or I had an idea how fast those things could move until the whole Indiana Jones-esque chase unfolded before our eyes.

We then headed over to The Sphinx, the largest single stone statue in the world, and in between battling for space with the thousands of French tourists (again, tricky photography to leave out all the other tourists) learned that one particular legend of why the nose of the Sphinx is missing, is that Napolean had his troops use the Sphinx as a firing target and the nose was knocked off by a cannonball after such practice.

We ended our time in Cairo with a trip to The Egyptian Museum, where we saw the death mask of Tutankamen and the tomb in which his mummy was kept, along with many other fascinating Egyptian relics, tombs, mummies, etc.

After a whirlwind tour of Cairo, we were scheduled to board an overnight train down to Aswan, so that we could then board a boat to sail down The Nile for the next few days. Before boarding the train, we learned from our tour guide, Rafike, that the U.S., Aussie, and British embassies all require that the Egyptian police know where all of their visiting citizens are at all times (meaning everything from what time we leave our hotel, to what train car we will be sitting in, etc.). After telling us this, we watched and realized that everywhere we went, an Egyptian police officer met us upon arrival and spoke with our guide to give us clearance to continue on and log that we had in fact travelled to where our guide had submitted a request and received approval from the government. It was crazy to learn how much we had to be monitored and Rafike explained to me that it was actually illegal that the day before I had gone on my own with a private taxi and no police approval beforehand, to Giza and The Step Pyramid (that explained why I saw my driver give the police officer money, while shaking his hand, when we had arrived - it was to bribe for my entry). Rafike also told everyone not to eat any pasta for at least two days, as our systems needed to get used to the water that is used to wash the pasta. After I told him I had eaten "koushrey" for one of my first meals, he had a brief look of shock and then laughed and went and bought a bowl for he and I for the train ride to Aswan. Everyone gave me looks of sympathy and some with fear for what I was likely to go through in the sickness category, but apparently Cambodia and the rest of S.E. Asia had already prepared me for whatever water The Middle East had to offer and now "koushrey" is a favorite dish of mine.

More to come on Egypt and our cruise down The Nile.

Cambodia

2007-05-30T04:10:00.000-07:00

After obtaining a Cambodian visa and a crazy cab ride where the driver and I debated where he would actually be dropping us off (despite having paid in advance at the airport taxi stand) we made it to our guest house in Siem Reap, Cambodia.

We had left Laos at 6:00 a.m. so after having checked-in to our guest house we still had most of the morning and the rest of the day to explore Angkor Wat, the single largest religious structure in the world. We arranged a tuk-tuk driver to take us for the day to explore Angkor and after driving through wooded and tree-lined roads, we approached the large moat surrounding the temple.

Thousands of people from all over the world come to visit Angkor Wat each day and it is believed that in the not too distant future, the government will have to impose regulations restricting people from certain areas and from climbing and / or touching the temple grounds and architecture, but currently, you are able to explore at will - occasionally being notified that you are climbing the rater steep staircases at "your own risk" (I had read in the guide book that many a tourist falls to break bones and sometimes even death...).

We spent the day exploring the temple grounds which were so big that despite the number of tourists, you could find your own section and find yourself alone for lengthy periods of time.

Large murals are carved into the outer walls of the temple, reflecting stories of the Gods and of the history of those who inhabited Angkor and their battles with surrounding forces.

We decided to take a quick break from the heat and a rest before further exploration, and on our way to a cafe across from the temple, we were accosted by Cambodian children. Literally, we each had around five or six surrounding us and after asking where we were from and immediately telling us, "Oh, the capital of America is Washington D.C.!" they tried to sell us whatever they had in their hands. We had read and heard that you shouldn't buy anything from them or give them any money as they give it directly to their parents who then make the kids go back out begging / selling, which only perpetuates the problem, but it is not easy when an adorable little girl who looks about five-years-old is holding on to your arm and telling you she likes your hair and earrings... no wonder Angelina Jolie adopted from here.

Before heading back to our guest house, we spent more time wandering the grounds and watching wild monkeys run from the surrounding woods and through the ruins. We made sure to stick to the paths as we had all read that much of Cambodia is still covered in land mines and it is advised that you never leave a well-worn path. I'm sure that Angkor Wat is 100% safe, with the number of tourists that visit each day, but the warnings were enough for us to only follow the paths.

That night, after a swim and dinner in the main part of town, we called it an early night as we had a 5:00 a.m. wake-up call the next morning in order to explore some of the other temples (there are so many in Siem Reap, I don't think you could adequately cover them all even in a week's time).

The next morning, we made it to Bayon, an ornate temple at the center of Angkor Thom, before sunrise as we had heard that catching a sunrise at the temples is amazing.

Unfortunately, the day turned out to be slightly overcast but that did not take away from how spectacular the grounds are.

Bayon was my favorite of the temples as it is much more isolated than Angkor Wat and the surrounding forest combined with the ornate carvings in the temple walls, and faces carved into the facades of the tops of all the pillars in the temple, causes feelings both eery and awe-inspiring.

Two local women who looked to be in their eighties, handed the three of us sticks of incense and instructed us to bow our heads as they said a prayer aloud, telling us as we left that we should now have, "good luck".

We spent a bit of time exploring some of the other temples in Siem Reap, before jumping in our tuk-tuk to head back to the airport and our flight to Bangkok.

Once we landed in Bangkok Airport, I had to say goodbye to Jen and Kari as they were headed home to San Francisco and I would be leaving S.E. Asia to head to The Middle East. Next stop, Cairo!

Laos

2007-05-21T12:57:00.000-07:00

After being given a frozen towelette and a deep fried crab on croissant sandwich, combined with enough turbulence that I couldn't look at Jen and Kari because I knew they were freaking out as well, we landed in Luang Prabang, Laos. Our flight arrived ten minutes early and it took approximately ten minutes to get our visas (one passport sized photo and $35 USD) and luggage - it's amazing that some of these developing countries in Asia seem to be more efficient (or maybe just more lenient) at some things than the U.S. We jumped in the back of a tuk-tuk and rode into town.

Laos (pronounced "Lao" it was originally named Lao and the French later added the silent "s") is sandwiched between Thailand, Vietnam, and Cambodia so it is landlocked in terms of oceans/seas, but it does have rivers flowing throughout, including the Mekong River, which flows down into Cambodia. Luang Prabang is a quiet and quaint town situated between the Mekong and Nam Khan Rivers, with surrounding limestone cliffs. You can still see much of the French influence (the French occupied Laos until they gained their independence in 1953) with signs written in Lao and in French, and many of the buildings lining the main streets constructed in the French colonial style.

After several days of non-stop rain in Thailand, we were more than excited to have the abundance of sunshine in Luang Prabang. Laos was also my first country in a month-and-a-half that drives on the right side of the road like back home! (Of course, after I had finally gotten used to looking opposite ways when crossing the street...).

We went to check-in at The Sayo Guest House and although they were full, they told us they had a new location along the river if we would like to see that one (at guest houses and hostels in Asia and Indonesia, they sow you the rooms first before you agree to stay). I jumped on the back of the guy's motorbike to rid to the other location and after a quick look, we returned without bags in a tuk-tuk and checked in to the Sayo II Guest House - a huge room with large windows throughout, a marble tiled bathroom and a sitting area with a view of the Mekong, all for the price of $10 each a night.

That night, we headed to the infamous Luang Prabang night market - blankets and red tents set along the ground with lamps lighting your way as you bargain over handmade duvet covers, bags, jewelry, t-shirts, etc. Paying in Kip (the currency of Laos) can get a bit confusing as the exchange is roughly 9,600 LAK (Kip) so you receive such a large stack of bills for exchanging even a relatively small amount of US Dollars, you feel like you are in the mafia.

The next morning, Kari and I rented bikes ($1 for the entire day) and rode along the riverside and throughout the town passing wats, outdoor markets and cafes, as the locals rode past on motorbikes holding umbrellas to protect them from the sun and many young monks walked along the streets (the monks we saw in Laos all seemed to be in their late teens / early twenties, as compared to Thailand where most we saw seemed to be in their fifties or sixties).

Later in the afternoon, we took a van ride with several other travellers to the Kwang Si waterfalls and animal rescue. At the base of the falls, a rescue has been set up for bears and tigers to save them from poachers and black market trading for their fur.

After hiking up to see the waterfall, we walked along a wooded path down to several "swimming holes" - turquoise water situated around smaller waterfalls and surrounded by trees, including one in particular that had a rope swing. Jen, Kari, and I decided to start the rope out and we each climbed the tree and swung off, landing in the pool below. Soon after, people were lining up to swing, although they looked much more graceful than us (but we get points for being the first).

Our last day in Luang Prabang, we climbed over 200 steps to reach a temple and overlook with 360 degree views of the town below. While hiking down, we passed golden Buddhas, sculptures, and images within the hillside.

That night, we boarded an overnight bus to Vang Vieng. After strapping a motorcycle to the top of the bus (sitting upright, kickstand and all...) and realizing that when they make you pay extra for the "V.I.P." bus with air con, it really means that you will be riding in a bus that has air conditioning, and not that they will actually turn it on (which they didn't), we were off. Apparently, this stretch of road between Luang Prabang and Vang Vieng is one of the most dangerous in S.E. Asia as there are frequent hijackings, so when we pulled to the side of the road at midnight, with nothing but a few wooden shack style buildings surrounding us, in order to repair a tire on the bus, everyone was a little on edge - only made worse when a local riding the bus got off carrying what looked like a machine gun on his back, to serve as "lookout / guard" while the driver worked on the tire. That roadside stop, in addition to the fact that once we were back on the bus the driver took the winding roads so fast you'd think he was driving a Ferrari and not a 30-year-old Greyhound bus, all made the seven hour bus ride a bit rough. The bus pulled off to the side of the road in what looked to be the middle of nowhere, at 2:00 a.m. (although it had been scheduled to arrive at 11:30 p.m.) and the bus driver told the seven or so of us going to Vang Vieng to get off. After unloading our bags and the bus driving off, the seven of us sat in silence for a few minutes trying to figure out what to do next - everything was closed and dark in the town without a person in sight and none of us knew which way to go to get to a place to stay. After coming to a consensus on which way to walk, we made our way down a road and spotted a light on at one of the guest houses. The security guard (or older local man smoking a cigarette in the front, that I took to be the security guard) awoke the guy who ran the place and after paying the extra $3 for air conditioning (bringing our total for the room to $15 - $5 each) we passed out.

The long and treacherous bus ride was worth it, however, when we were dropped off by tuk-tuk the next day, to tube down the river. Vang Vieng is a small town in Laos famous for it's tubing. Many a traveller raves about the tubing and in our tuk-tuk alone we were packed in with several who had done it the day before, as well.

After sitting in your inner tube, you float along the river until you come to the numerous swings, zip lines, bars, and cafes set up along the riversides. The locals working there run over to the banks with a bamboo pole to either pull you in , or they will reach it over the water for you to grab to pull yourself over. In some cases where it is more shallow and not too rocky (or for those who have had one too many "Beer Lao" and can't manage the energy to hold on to the bamboo stick) they will walk out into the water and pull you in by your leg. Ladders made of wood or bamboo are propped up against tall trees for you to climb. Once at the top, a local pulls back the trapeze-type bar and you stand on the edge of a wooden plank before swinging out and over the water and dropping into the river. The highest one on the river had everyone a little fearful and after Jen and I went, our hands were shaking from the adrenaline rush. We were so glad we did it, although happy just to make it a one time thing as the guy who went after us got a bloody nose with the force in which he hit the water...

The next few hours we floated along the river occasionally hitting some rapids or bumping into others in their tubes, and then stopping for a drink before getting back in our tubes.

Vang Vieng is infamous for it's "Friends bars" - Nearly all of the restaurants and bars along the main street play the T.V. show "Friends" non-stop and all hours they are open. After tuk-tuks picked us up at the river, we ate dinner in a big couch-style table and watched a few hours of "Friends."

The next day, we took a bus to Vientienne, the capital of Laos and also our last stop before Cambodia. We had read about a popular bowling alley near our hotel and after a look of shock from the girls behind the counter when I told them my shoe size (I may have what are considered big feet in the U.S. but in Laos I think they are more in the "unheard of" range) we bowled alongside the locals.

We arrived in style the next day to the Vientienne airport as we had decided to have a splurge night after all those bus rides, and the hotel drove us in their Dick Tracey-esque car.

Laos and the tubing, in particular, were experiences to add to the long list of highlights for me on this trip. Now on to Cambodia!

Jack Talk Thai

2007-05-19T08:15:00.000-07:00

Thailand was the first country on this trip, so far, that I have been to before, however, I was equally as excited as I loved it the first time around and on this trip I was able to see some sites and spots I had not yet been. I arrived at 3rd Street Cafe Guest House in Kata Beach (one of three main beaches of Phuket, on the southwestern coast of Thailand) and felt as though I was staying at The Ritz Carlton (compared to the places I had stayed in Indonesia) with the air conditioning and TV in the room (I realized I hadn't watched TV in over a month). My first day, I checked out Kata - a small / quiet beach and town - followed by the Thai owner of the guest house having me try a fried worm... She told me beforehand that they tasted like french fries... WRONG, at least no french fry I have ever had. It tasted more like a sardine, but an experience nonetheless. That night Jen and Kari arrived and I was more than excited to see friends from home. After just having travelled for over twenty four hours to get to Phuket from San Francisco, they were slightly tired, so we called it an early night after some Thai food for dinner, on the beach.

The next day we took a boat trip to several islands, including the one featured in the movie, "The Beach" with Leonardo Dicaprio. The landscape of the islands was absolutely beautiful - limestone cliffs and jungle set against clear turquoise water and fine white sand. Disappointing, however, was the amount of tourists and the trash thrown into the water surrounding some of the islands and cliffs. It was like a cattle heard down the beach with so many tourists, it made it difficult to even find some space to sit. This being the beginning of the "low season", it made me wonder how intensely crowded it must be in the "high season". With some deceiving photo work, my pictures, like the tour books, don't show the hoards of tourists.

Next we visited Monkey Beach. The guides give the tourists bananas to feed the monkeys so they are waiting for you hanging in the trees and running along the sand waiting to be fed. With the number of tourists visiting the beach, we were told you have to time it right as the monkeys retire into the jungle to sleep off their banana feasts from the tourists, at some points throughout the day.

After some snorkeling, we travelled to Phi Phi Don Island. Miniature winding streets filled with food stalls, bars, cafes, guest houses, shops, and scuba diving offices (diving here is supposed to be amazing), all sandwiched between one beach lined with long tail boats and a ferry dock, and another beach which serves as a launching point for kayaking and scuba diving. We loved it so much we decided we would take the ferry back the next day and spend the night on the island.

That night, however, we took a tuk-tuk (an opened backed truck with a roof and benches in the bed of the truck) to Patong. We were told Patong is the "party" area of Phuket and our visit was definitely entertaining. We ate dinner at a crowded open-air restaurant that offered a view of the main road - perfect for people watching. Many "western" older men walking along with young Thai women and "lady boys" (this is what they're called in Thailand - we would say drag queen or transvestite) making their way through the busy streets. It started to rain (more like a torrential downpour, in my opinion) so we ran across the street for massages. My one hour Thai massage cost $6. Jen and Kari both had one hour foot massages and loved them so much that Jen was prepared to ask the masseuse back to San Francisco.

The streets are always lined with people selling different foods from carts, but late night in Patong there were also a few soup and curry stations set up where you choose your base (either a soup or curry) then sit at benches along the street and add vegetables or whatever else you would like to your own plate. It seemed that only locals were eating at these stations, so the three of us decided to sit down and try it. As we tried to act as though we knew exactly what we were doing, some local girls across from us started laughing and stopped us from eating what was apparently the stem of some form of eggplant. The laughing continued as they watched us dare each other to eat the dried out miniature fish sitting in a bowl in front of us (which we did eat - I preferred the worm from the day before...).

The next day, we took the ferry back to Phi Phi Don Island. Despite this island receiving much of the tsunami, a few years ago (200 people died on this island alone...), much has been rebuilt. We checked into our bungalow and I then introduced Jen to her first Thai pancake (they are similar to what we consider a "crepe" and you can get whatever type of filling you'd like). I am craving one again just writing about it.

After wondering through the shopping stalls and beach bars of the island, we stopped in to watch a movie at an outdoor cafe. This is one of my favorite things about the nightlife of Thailand beach towns - all the open cafes that play movies nightly. You can stop in for dinner or a drink and watch a movie before heading out for the night.

The next day we took the ferry back to Patong (the water was so choppy, as it had been stormy, that Kari and I got so sick on the boat I hope to forget about it forever after writing this) and spent one last night in Phuket before flying up to the north of Thailand, Chiang Mai, the next morning.

Chiang Mai is located in the northern, more mountainous area of Thailand and is said to be known as the "spiritual center" of Thailand. Two of Jen's friends from home, Steffanie and Josh, had been living in Chiang Mai for the past four months teaching English, and we met up with them for our first night starting with a dinner of vegetarian Thai food and then to a favorite bar of theirs where Kari, Jen, and I all ate a cricket... They have all of these carts and stalls around Thailand selling various types of bugs to eat, so we gave the crickets a go (the picture below shows us just before we tried them).

One of the highlights for me on this second trip to Thailand was the Thai cooking class we took in Chiang Mai. Usually, I not only am a horrible cook and dislike cooking as well, but this cooking school was amazing! We first went to the local market with our Thai instructor, Gaye, where she pointed out various foods and explained what they were and what they are used for. She also bought some pink eggs (literally the shells are pink) and bananas wrapped in sticky rice, for us to try for breakfast before cooking class. The pink eggs are soaked in ammonium so when you open them, the egg is black and the yoke is a purple gel. I wasn't a big fan of mine as I could taste the ammonium, but the others in the class (aside from us three girls, we were joined by an Israeli couple) seemed to like theirs. Gaye gave us each a cookbook and had us pick out four Thai dishes she then taught us how to cook. We made: khao soi , papaya salad, tom kah gai soup, and panang curry. We then all sat down together in the open kitchen and patio area outside and enjoyed what we had made.

After cooking school, we took a tuk-tuk to Doi Suthep, a Buddhist temple up in the mountain, regarded as a "must see" if you visit Chiang Mai. Since Kari and I were wearing shorts, they gave us wraps to cover our legs, as it is considered "respectful" to cover your shoulders and legs to your knees when entering the Wats (temples).

After leaving the Wat we made our way back down the mountain to Chiang Mai market for some shopping. Hundreds of stalls line the sidewalks selling everything from bootlegged DVDs, to silk pillowcases, to knives, to pashminas, etc.

We met up with Stephanie and Josh and went to see "Spiderman 3" for our last night in Chiang Mai. Seeing movies at the theater in Thailand is another unique experience. When you purchase your tickets, they show you a digital representation of the theater, showing which seats are taken and which are available so that you can choose where you sit. Your ticket then has your chosen seat number on it so that when you enter the theater you find your seat (as they are all labeled) similar to a concert, play, etc. Before the movie starts, they play the Thailand National Anthem and show images of the King and Royal Family, mixed with images of Thailand, and everyone in the theater must stand. Thankfully, this experience and the Thai subtitles on the bottom of the movie screen, made up for the movie...

The next morning we said goodbye to Stephanie and Josh and then said a few prayers before boarding our Lao Airlines flight into Laos - the airline is notorious for not releasing their flight / safety records and even the Lonely Planet says that the routes between bigger cities are "ok to take" but no guarantee on the trips between smaller cities... Some Lynard Skynard seemed appropriate for the ipod, and we boarded our propeller plane to Luang Prabang, Laos. More to come from Laos!

Indonesia: Lombok & The Gili Islands

2007-05-01T18:33:00.000-07:00

The boat to Lombok is supposed to leave Padangbai, Bali at 4:30 pm. Three hours and a cup of noodles later, we finally leave. Lombok is another island country in Indonesia, east of Bali. According to everyone we talk to, and the locals themselves, Lombok is today what Bali was 20 years ago - meaning much fewer tourists and commercialism. On the boat to Lombok, we are two of six "Westerners" (non-Indonesians) out of about 100 people. In Indonesia, the first question everyone seems to ask is, "Where are you from?" On Lombok, when I say I'm American they respond by saying, "Ok then you are rich!" Whereas on Bali, they have boards on every street corner showing the exchange rates for various countries and the Balinese know that I am "poor" compared to the British and Europeans.

After arriving at the port town of Lembar, we ban together with the other four westerners - a couple from Spain and a Dutch couple living in Bali teaching English - and haggle with some local taxi divers to take us the one hour drive north to the town of Sengiggi. We arrive around midnight and, thanks to a quick consultation of The Bible (a.k.a Lonely Planet: Bali & Lombok) we find bungalows for the six of us to spend the night, which include breakfast, all for the price of $4.

In the morning, after some Bali coffee (which consists of taking several spoonfuls of straight coffee grinds into your mug and then adding hot water - which leaves an inch of what looks like mud in the bottom of your cup when you are finished drinking) the Dutch couple, Marcus, and I make our way to the beach where our bags are thrown into a boat, followed by us jumping in (and having to time with the waves which keep throwing the boat back to shore). We ride out into the Java Sea towards The Gili Islands (three islands off of Lombok: Gili Air, Gili Meno, and Gili Trawagan). It starts to rain and we have to pull a tarp over all of our bags. We drop the Dutch couple at Gili Trawagan and Marcus and I continue on to Gili Air.

We stay at Sunrise Cottages, which are two-story bungalows facing the ocean. The whole bungalow is open, with a hammock and bed, including a mosquito net, on one level, then you must climb a ladder and pass through a trap door into the top level that has another bed, including a mosquito net. In order to "flush" the toilet, you have to fill a bucket with water and dump it into the toilet in the hopes that whatever is inside is "displaced" by the water you have just thrown in... Everything utilizes the salt water from the ocean, meaning you shower in salt water, brush your teeth with salt water (really tough at first, but eventually I got used to it). After three days, my hair was about one step away from dreadlocks.

There are absolutely no motorized vehicles on the islands. The only forms of transportation are walking, riding bicycles, or pony carts (as the name suggests, these are small carts pulled by ponies - yes ponies not horses...) It takes approximately one hour to walk around the entire island of Gili Air. These pictures show some local children who wanted to show us the Amore Eel they had just caught.
After a few days here, Marcus and I take the locals' "Island Hopper" boat to Gili Trawagan. This island is known as the "party island" as it's the most developped and even has an internet cafe. We rent some bikes and spend the day riding around the island. Most places in Bali and Lombok the locals are constantly calling out to you asking if you "need transport??" but on the island of Gili Trawagan, the locals call out to you asking "would you like magic mushrooms??" These are advertised everywhere as well, and although they are illegal in all of Lombok, the locals say "There are no police on the islands."
Our last day in the Gili's we meet a waiter, Deone, who agrees to take us back to the Lombok mainland and then by car to his cousin's place in the mountain town of Senaru. Driving along the coastline and into the countryside of Lombok, rather than dogs everywhere (as in Bali), there are goats in the streets, in the homes, etc. Marcus asks Deone what they do with the goats, and whether they are used for their milk, to which Deone responds, "Have you not had any beef or steak since you've been here?" This explains why the "beef/steak" on our pizza the day before, tasted a little odd...

Once we arrive in Senaru, we sit down to coffee with Deone and his cousin and negotiate a guide and porter (to carry our tents, food, etc.) on a two day trek up the Rinjani Volcano. We spend the night in Senaru and hike to the waterfalls just outside the main town, before sundown. We are the only non-locals.

The bathroom in our place had to be my favorite. In addition to the "bucket flushing system" that I had become accustomed to in the Gili's, the "toilet" was a hole in the ground. "Western toilets" were advertised down the road (meaning, they had toilet seats), but unfortunately we weren't staying there...

We awoke the next morning at 5:30 a.m. to meet out guide and porter (who were so small, I looked like a giant compared to them) and began the seven hour climb to the volcano rim. The first few hours took us through the jungle where we almost treaded over a snake, everyone (except me, thankfully) had to pull leaches off their feet and ankles, and monkeys jumped all around us in the trees overhead. Our guide told us to watch our cameras as the monkeys are notorious for swooping down and stealing them. We stopped for lunch and our guide asked us to watch the food and packs, while he went for water, as the monkeys would steal that as well. Sure enough, while we were cooking, a monkey came over and stole a few bananas. The entire seven hour ascent (ten hours, including stops for rest and eating) the only other people we saw were four local fishermen heading to the lake at the center of the volcano.

We reached the rim a little before sundown and set up our tents for the night. Our guide and porter started a fire and cooked us rice, fried egg, and prawn crackers for dinner. Once the sun goes down, it is around 30 degrees and to keep from freezing, we have to get inside our sleeping bags and think about how hot we just were the day before in the sweltering heat of the islands.

We awake at sunrise (after about 2 1/2 hours of sleep, as the cold is added to by the rains that come during the night and I wake to find my sleeping bag soaked through at my feet). All the cold, lack of sleep, and sore muscles from the climb are worth it, when we see the perfect view of the crater and lake at the center of the volcano, and then turn to see a view of the ocean, a volcano over on Bali, and the three Gili Islands we have just traveled from, in the distance.

The guide and porter start up another fire and make us pineapple pancakes and coffee, before we make the six hour descent back down the volcano.

We pick up our packs back at the Rinjani Homestay in Senaru and a 14-year-old with longer fingernails than me, who is smoking a cigarette, pulls up to take us back to the port in Sengiggi. I realize I have become completely comfortable in Indonesia when we pull over to get petrol and the 14-year-old driver hands an 8-year-old who is helping to fill the truck, a cigarette and I think, "how generous". I get slightly nervous when it seems as though our driver is going faster than anyone else on the road and passing everyone, but when I look at the speedometer I see that it's broken so I can't freak out because none of us know how fast we are going...

We arrived safely in Sengiggi (so the 14-year-old must have known what he was doing) and after a much needed shower in a non-salt water outdoor bathroom, spend our last night in Lombok.

On the double-decker pirate ship type boat the next day that is taking us back to Bali, there is a huge sandbox so the other travellers and ourselves can lay on mats in the sand as we sail back through the Java Sea. A group of dolphins begins swimming next to our boat and jump out of the water, and I have one of my many moments of feeling so lucky and grateful to be travelling and experiencing all of this. Aside from a few mosquito bites and some blisters from volcano climbing, I am leaving Bali unscathed, with my "ancient Chinese medicine" in hand, ready for my next trip back.

The locals are right, Bali is a paradise, and I am now on to Thailand for the comparison.

Indonesia: Bali

2007-04-27T20:35:00.000-07:00

My Bali Mastercard Ad:

Queen bed and private bathroom which includes a large rock formation: $14

Dinner, including main course, two side dishes, two beers, and coffee: $6

A woman who only has two teeth telling you that you need a pedicure: Priceless...

I arrive in Bali slightly nervous about not having already obtained a visa, and prepared for long lines, forms, etc. Turns out, all you need is $25 USD (or $10 if you are staying within 7 days). I jump in a taxi and as my Balinese driver teaches me some Indonesian (Telemakasee is "thank you" and Sama Sama is "your welcome"), we weave around motorbikes and other miniature cars (seems like everywhere else in the world the cars are of Mr.Bean size and we are driving tanks in the U.S.).

Kuta is the main tourist destination in Bali and I spent my first few nights staying slightly down the beach in the more local / expats center of Seminyak. I drop my bags off at The Blue Ocean - a hostel just off the beach. My room is huge and includes an old rusty fridge that appears to be broken, a hodge-podge of rusty dishes and silverwear, and what appears to be blood splatters on the wall. I feel as though I am Leonardo Dicaprio in "The Beach". I walk into the bathroom and see that it is "outdoors" (meaning no roof) and there is a rock formation forming half of the room. Meanwhile, the local guy who lead me to the room, has returned with a piece of paper on which I need to write my name and passport number. He hands me a towel and some toilet paper and says, "great, you pay later". Check-in is such a breeze in Indonesia.

The beach running from Kuta through to Seminyak is crowded with locals and tourists playing drums, dancing, and playing soccer and paddle ball in the sand, while older Balinese men fish in the ocean and the younger Balinese surf.
My first night, I sit down to dinner and a local sitting across from me, named Nadi, tells me that in Kuta you eat dinner around 10pm, take a nap, and then head to the bars and clubs around 2am to 6am. He gives me maps and a vile of what he says is "ancient Chinese medicine to combat 'Bali Belly'." Bali Belly is what most people contract who both live and visit Bali for longer than a week (or sometimes shorter) based on the conditions for cooking, preparation of the meals, etc. I thanked him and said a silent prayer that I both never contract Bali Belly and never have to consume the red pellets inside the tube he has just given me.

The next few days were spent lounging on the beach and wandering the streets of Kuta. I met a girl from New Zealand, Johanna, who was on her 3rd trip to Bali and working with manufactuers on her two fashion lines. Marcus (my friend from Australia) arrived that day and the three of us spent the next few nights in Kuta having dinners in outdoor restaurants and drinks on a rooftop bar called "Sky Garden". A few yards away is the empty lot where the club that was bombed several years ago used to be located. A few yards from that is a large memorial including a plaque with the names of everyone who was killed in the bombings (around 200). It seems impossible to think anyone could have done such a thing here. The people are all so kind and always smiling. They say that all Balinese never want to live anywhere else and view Bali as a paradise. Every local person I speak with tells me that Bali is better than anywhere on Earth and no matter where I go, Bali will be the best. It is also said that when the Balinese are reincarnated, as their Hindu religion believes, they will want to return to Bali.

The streets are full of dogs, but the dogs seem to be well fed and groomed. A taxi driver tells me that the Balinese believe when you are reincarnated you come back as a dog, so everyone must treat them well.

The family seems to be of great importance in Bali as well. There are children everywhere playing with their parents on the beach and surfing.

After some time in Kuta, Marcus and I decide to get a ride further north to the town of Ubud. Two Dutch girls I meet on the ride tell me that in six months of travel, I am the third American they have met and they ask why more Americans don't travel (I have been asked this in nearly every country I have visited). I tell them I'm not sure but hope that soon changes.

Ubud is known as the "cultural center" of Bali. The place we stay has pathways winding through the jungle and we must take a stone bridge across a stream, followed by many stairs up to the rooms. The entire place is gorgeous and costs $12 a night...

The streets, as in Kuta and the rest of Bali, are full of offerings (the Balinese create a new offering everyday and place it in front of their home / business).

Our first day in Ubud, we head to the market where I buy a sarong (you aren't given "beach towels" here...) which the woman blesses before giving it to me, and says I will now have "good luck." The next day we walk through "Monkey Forest" where monkeys run free all around you. Marcus sits down and a monkey tries to steal his water bottle.

We then wander through rice paddies and see a procession of Balinese women carrying fruit and other platters on their heads. The women in Bali carry everything on their heads - it seems incredible that they are able to balance it all.

The next day we wake up at 2:30 am and are picked up by a driver who takes us to the base of the volcano, Batur. We meet our guide and he gives us flashlights (as we will be hiking up the volcano in the dark, so that we reach the top before sunrise) and wraps white scarves around our waists, as the volcano is considered a holy place. A local who is going to sell bottles of Coke at the top, tags along with the three of us and we make our way in the dark up the side of the volcano. As we stumble/struggle up the side in our hiking shoes, our guide wears flip flops and a local woman passes us, barefoot and carrying a sack of rice on her head... It was so incredible to be climbing up an active volcano in the dark, with the only light coming from our 3 flashlights and the stars above.

We make it to the top before sunrise and our guide cooks us eggs and banana sandwiches with the steam from the volcano. As the sun comes up from the horizon where the sky meets the ocean, we can see a lake below us, at the center of the crater, and other volcanoes in the distance.

After sunrise, we hike to the summit, stopping to feel the steam coming out from crevaces in the volcano (that is steam rising in the photos below).

By the time we make it back down the volcano and back to our hotel, I have to sleep for about seven hours before going to see a Balinese dance troop perform that night. At the end of the performance, a Balinese man who looks about 85, comes out carrying a wooden horse and walks through a huge bonfire and then repeatedly across the hot coals. I think I was holding my mouth and closing my eyes for half of the time he was on the coals... unbelievable.

Leaving Ubud, we take a bus to the port town of Padangbai, in order to catch a ferry to the neighboring Indonesian country of Lombok, where we will spend the next week. Below is a map of Bali, for anyone who is not familiar:

More to come from Lombok, Indonesia!

Road Rules: Sydney to Brisbane

2007-04-09T17:45:00.000-07:00

I didn't realize Mercedes makes camper vans... apparently they do as that is what we've been driving, sleeping, eating in for the past 8 days / 1,022 kilometers / 639 miles, up the coast of Australia from Sydney to Brisbane.

Our first stop was Hunter Valley, the Australian wine country, where we sampled sparkling red wine (a first for Erin and I) followed by dinner with an Aussie family who Brad coaches in tennis (Brad and Marcus are our travel companions and thankfully do all of the driving as well).

Next stop, South West Rocks, a quaint beach town housing a famous old jail that sits on a cliff overlooking the ocean. After wandering around the jail grounds, we loaded ourselves back into the camper to make the drive to Byron Bay - one of the best beach towns I've ever been. Backpackers, surfers, and Indigenous people sit in coffee shops and cafes, in between spending time on the gorgeous coastline. A ship that has sunk just off the coast, provides one of the most famous surf spots in Australia, to which we had a view from where we were camped.
The next five days were spent in Byron, beginning with the famous "Blues and Roots Festival" (a week long concert featuring everyone from John Mayer and Wolfmother to The Roots and Paul Kelly (the Australian Bob Dylan). It rained both days we attended, which lead to mud everywhere (I don't know if my shoes will ever recover) and Marcus and Brad decided to try out some mud sliding.

My favorites at the concert included Missy Higgins (Aussie), John Butler Trio (Aussie), Katchafire (Kiwi), and Ben Harper who closed out the show and brought Jack Johnson out for a guest appearance, while everyone danced/sang along in the rain.

The last two days in Byron began with a breakfast of Lowens (oat cereal with dried fruit), followed by "boot camp" on the beach (the boys do this in Sydney and decided Erin and I should join in) which consists of a run through the soft sand on the beach, a swim in the ocean, and then sit-ups, push-ups, etc. The rest of the day was spent with some beach time, a walk along the coast with some other friends of Marcus and Brad, named Paul (Aussie) and Adriana (Brazilian).

Our last day in Byron we decided to make a trip to the Hinterland (inland) and check out the town of Nimbin. Imagine Australia as a country that is slightly hippie-esque and this town as the capital. Nimbin makes the Haight look like Pacific Heights. The entire town is trying to reform the marijuana laws. Rainbows, dreadlocks, bare feet, it felt as though we were in a movie set. These pictures don't do the place justice.

For my last dinner in Bryon, the boys said we had to try some Kangaroo. This was slightly difficult after having seen more than a few on our drive and never having thought of kangaroo as a meal... but I'm all about trying new things on this trip so for anyone who would like to give it a go, it tastes somewhat like steak with more of a gamy aftertaste.

Leaving Byron, we stopped at a wildlife preserve and were able to see many animals I have never seen/heard of before. We also were able to see some crocodiles and koalas as close as I have ever been (and as close as I would be comfortable, to the croc).

Next on the route was lunch on the Gold Coast / Surfers Paradise, which reminds me of Waikiki (high rises just off the sand), before making our final stop on the camper van tour in Brisbane.

If Sydney were New York City, then Brisbane would be Boston. It feels slightly more slow paced and even more of a suburban feel with tree lined neighborhood streets surrounding the water, and parks scattered throughout.

I had to say goodbye to Erin, Marcus, and Brad, to venture on my own for a one night stop in Perth (on the western coast of Australia) before heading on to Bali. Perth is another great city, and like the others, very suburban/park like atmosphere even with the downtown area high rises.

To close out my tour of Australia, my taxi driver taught me some more key Aussie phrases/terms: sheila (girl), bloke (boy), "She'll be apples" (no worries), "laid flat out like a lizard drinkin'" (sitting around drinking... I'm serious, this is what he told me it means), "good on ya" (nice work).

Much love for Australia!

Sydney

2007-04-04T02:50:00.000-07:00

We arrived at the Sydney Airport on Monday, to learn of the tsunami that had hit the Solomon Islands. All of the beaches in Sydney were officially closed due to the conditions caused by the tsunami, but in Australia this is seen as an opportunity among the surfing community - great waves and no crowds.

Marcus, our friend we are staying with in Sydney, decided the beach would also be a perfect first stop for our tour. After having a lunch along the coast and watching all of the surfers catching post-tsunami waves, we headed to Rose Bay, the neighborhood where Marcus lives. Similar to San Francisco, New York, etc. Sydney is also broken up into various "neighborhoods". The city feels like a huge suburb, however, with people out-and-about everywhere you go. It is amazing to be able to go from gorgeous beaches to a downtown area filled with tall buildings, bridges, ferries, etc. all in a matter of minutes.

Our first full day in Sydney began with a breakfast that included Vegemite - just like in the "Land Down Under" song. They really do eat it here. It looks like chocolate and tastes like cheese... I'm not necessarily a huge fan, but apparently it's good for you. Also coffee here seems to only come in the form of espresso. You cannot order "a coffee" and have that be the end of it. They ask you, "What kind?" to which you are supposed to say, "white, tall black, etc." I still have not figured it out and felt slightly cracked out our first day as I think I kept ordering double espressos, by accident.

Erin and I spent the remainder of the day on a walking tour through downtown Sydney that took us through the Botanical Gardens (aside from beautiful plants, there were spiders and bats everywhere - yes, bats (that's them in the picture hanging from one of the trees, but there were many more trees filled like this throughout the park).

Next, we walked along the waterfront towards the Opera House, and then made our way over to The Rocks (an area of winding streets filled with shops and restaurants). We ended the day by taking a ferry back to Rose Bay and then having dinner with some friends of Marcus, who taught us some of the key Aussie phrases they suggested we try out on this trip: "good'ay mate" (seriously they say this), "shit yeah" (I guess this is instead of our "hell yeah"?), "barbi" (barbecue), "avvo" (afternoon). More to come as we still have 10 days left in Australia and I'm sure we'll learn some more.

Our last full day in Sydney was spent at the beaches, Bondi (pronounced Bond-eye) in particular where the beach and surrounding coast is full of surfers and young backpackers. We walked along a beautiful coastline (pictured) which took us from Bondi to Bronte beach before heading out for dinner in the trendy neighborhood of Surry Hills with a group of Aussies, Brits, a Canadian, and a Dutch girl (gotta love how international Sydney is - seems as though half of the people are from somewhere else, and after stopping in Australia on holiday, they never left).

We are heading out today to make our way north up the coastline from Sydney to Brisbane (pronounced "Bris-bin").

More to come on Australia and our camper van (none of us have travelled in one before, not to mention the fact that Erin and I have never driven on the opposite side of the road, so it should be interesting!)

Bula from Fiji!

2007-04-02T01:11:00.000-07:00

I think I might be part Fijian as everything happens here on what they call "Fiji time", which is basically adding a few hours to whenever you say you are going to be somewhere or do something. It is fabulous.

After landing in Nadi, Fiji three hours later than our flight was scheduled to land, we jumped on a bus bound for the port and then a boat to take us to Beachcomber Island. The Fijian people are some of the kindest I have ever met. Every person you pass waves and smiles as they yell, "Bula!" which is apparently not only the word for 'hello', but also can be used as a thank you, agreement, or perhaps the person just feels like saying it for no reason. I think you could get about anything you need on Fiji by saying that word and "vinaka," which is 'thank you'.

Along the bus ride, we picked up another traveler, Rebecca, headed to Beachcomber, who is from North Carolina. She is a doctor who is making her way to the Solomon Islands to work at an Emergency Clinic, and she is taking this week to do some surfing before heading on to the clinic. The three of us boarded a boat to Beachcomber, an island in the Pacific Ocean surrounded by nothing more than miles of ocean and tiny neighboring islands. We were told that one of the neighboring islands is where "Castaway" was filmed. We are able to circle our entire island, on foot, in ten minutes.

Every night everyone staying at The Beachcomber eats dinner together and spends the night out on the beach listening to The Beachcomber Band (who seem to be the same staff also preparing the food and driving the boat to and from the island). On our first night we meet a group of other travelers from various parts of the world, some of whom have been travelling for months already.

We spend our first full day in Fiji, laying on the white sand for most of the morning and then taking several of the kayaks and paddling across the Pacific to a neighboring island (shown below). There is a beautiful reef surrounding both our island and the neighboring island ("Treasure Island") and it felt unbelievable to recognize that we were paddling from island to island, on the other side of the world from home. After checking out the baby turtles on Treasure Island (apparently the locals keep the babies until they grow to 3 feet, before releasing them back into the ocean), we headed back for our last night on Beachcomber.

When checking in for early departure the next day, we were asked if we wanted a wake up call. After responding that we would and that 5am ought to do it, the woman pointed to a large Fijian man next to us and responded, "Great, he will wake you up at 5." I believe we could learn a lot from the Fijian way of dealing with time and wake up calls... Our alarm clock coincided with our "wake up call" (a knock on the door from the Fijian man), and we boarded another speed boat, before sunrise, to head back to the mainland. Next stop Sydney!

Leaving tonight!

2007-03-29T17:28:00.000-07:00

Finally got it together and booked an around-the-world ticket! I've wanted to do this forever and don't want to fall into the "I'll do it later" thing... Plus, I have to get it done before they tell me I'm "too old to stay in hostels" - gotta love bunk beds and wearing flip flops in the shower.

I have packed in as many continents/countries/cities as possible, in the next two months. Here is the current itinerary: Fiji, Australia, Bali, Thailand, Laos, Cambodia, Egypt, Greece, Croatia, UK.

I leave tonight from LAX to Fiji (direct 11 hour flight)! Meeting Erin (one of my fabulous roommates, for those of you who don't know her) at LAX and we are off to Beachcomber island.

I'm working on a route map and pictures to come. I'll miss everyone and hope to hear from all of you!

In the meantime, for anyone who is contemplating doing any BIG trips or any sort of international travel, here is one of the best articles I've read in a while, hope you enjoy!

The Too-Weak Vacation
by Joel Stein; Men's Journal, October 2006

Wherever you go on vacation, one this is inevitable: You're going to run into a pack of drunk Australians arguing about some sport only they play. And they're not taking a long weekend, or calling in sick for the afternoon. No, they're taking a six-month holiday, or an entire year on walkabout. Aussies work less than Ben Affleck.

The French are almost as lazy, taking an average of 39 days off per year. In Sweden your bosses are required by law to give you 25. The Chinese, who can't have freedom of speech or second child, get three "golden" weeks. In fact, 96 countries have laws requiring vacation time, which was last under consideration in the United States under FDR.

When it comes to vacation we Americans are a passive, docile people. We accept our pitiful two weeks a year while the rest of the world takes off entire seasons. Even in Germany, where all they seem to do is work and drive too fast, the average worker takes 7.8 weeks off a year.

If you're reading this magazine, seven weeks off would not even begin to address your needs. It takes at least that long to summit Everest. And that two-month Antarctic dogsled trip you've always dreamed about? You better hope that sucker doesn't melt as fast as Al Gore says it will.

Yet most of our peers won't even take what little free time their corporate masters give them. The average American worker is allotted 14 vacation days per year but uses only 10 of them, because it's so important that we finish our PowerPoint presentations. You know that Swedish equivalent of a PowerPoint presentation? Me either, but it likely happens in a sauna.

Like everything else unfun about our country, this is all because of the Puritans. The scarlet letters are long gone, but we have yet to defeat their tireless work ethic. We are a fat, warmongering, porn-downloading people who nevertheless maintain that idle hands do the devil's work.

"We're in a competition to have less of a life than the next guy," says Joe Robinson, author of "Work to Live." Six years ago Robinson started a campaign to require companies to give us three weeks of paid leave, plus Election Day. "We have this phrase, 'Time is money.' But the meaning isn't what we think it is. It's the time itself that is the precious currency because our supply is so limited," say Robinson.

What he means is that we're all going to die, and it's better to die on vacation. Until then, vacations can help us lead better lives. One study showed that a lack of family vacation time leads to divorce, which leads to impoverished children. That's right: Your vacation actually helps poor kids.

It also helps your company. Studies have shown that job performance improves after a break; scans reveal that fatigued brains look just like sleeping ones. A nine-year study by two psych professors showed that vacations reduce heart attacks by 32 percent in men. Plus, longer vacations force companies to cross-train employees to do each others' jobs, which fosters team-building and, probably, hooking up.

Big business argues that mandatory vacation would lead to inefficiency (or, in Puritan terms, sloth). This is nonsense, as I realized on a recent trip to Australia. I expected it to be a mess: electricity flickering on and off, shops closed half the time, and waiters who can't get your order right. Kind of like L.A. But Sydney is like George Jetson's city. Everything sparkles and is equipped with toilets from the future. And these people are always on holiday.

We need to be more like Australia. Robinson is pushing mandatory-leave legislation, while also encouraging people to negotiate for extra vacation during the hiring process. To me, that's the wimpy way. Your bosses are not getting two weeks. They're taking off whenever they please. So is Congress. You should too, I say. For Four weeks a year, just don't show up. Leave the BlackBerry at home, load up the kayak, and dare the bastards to fire you. If it turns out someone in India can do your job via phone, it was time for a career change anyway.